Page 19 of The Duke’s Christmas Redemption

“It’s growing late,” William said after the footman had departed. “You must be tired from the journey.”

Charlotte recognised the dismissal in his tone, though part of her longed to stay in this peaceful room with its books and flickering firelight.

“Yes, I suppose that I am.” She rose, smoothing her skirts. “Thank you for the madeira, and for explaining my duties.”

“I’ll have a footman escort you up.”

William moved to pull the bell rope, his tall figure casting long shadows in the lamplight.

“There’s no need,” Charlotte said quickly. “I’m sure that I can find my way.”

She needed a few moments completely alone to sort through her impressions of this complex man who was now her husband. William hesitated, then nodded.

“As you wish. Good night, then.”

“Good night... William.”

His given name still felt strange on her tongue, intimate in a way that made colour rise to her cheeks. She thought that she saw something flicker in his eyes at the sound of it, but he merely bowed slightly as she left the library.

The grand staircase was lit only by moonlight now, streaming through the tall windows. Charlotte ascended slowly, her mind full of the day’s events. From nervous bride to Duchess in the space of a few hours - it seemed almost unreal.

In her chambers, she found Sarah waiting to help her prepare for bed. As the maid unlaced her gown, Charlotte caught sight of herself in the mirror. She looked different somehow - not just tired from the journey, but changed in some indefinable way.

Perhaps it was the weight of her new responsibilities already settling onto her shoulders.

Or perhaps it was the memory of William’s unexpected moments of warmth, like brief glimpses of sunshine through storm clouds.

He was not the completely cold man society painted him to be - she had seen that clearly tonight. The question was, could she find a way to bridge the careful distance he maintained between them?

Sarah helped her into her nightgown and turned down the bed, its pristine sheets welcoming after the long day.

“Will there be anything else, Your Grace?”

“No, thank you, Sarah. You may go.”

Alone at last, Charlotte moved to the window of her new bedchamber. She was acutely aware, then, of just how completely alone she was in another way. She had no family or friends here, only the rather distant man that she had just married, and for a moment, loneliness made her throat close as she swallowed the impulse to release a small sob.

She shook those thoughts away, and turned her eyes to what she could see outside the window. Moonlight silvered the formal gardens below, and in the other wing of the house, she could see a light still burning in the library. William was down there, perhaps thinking about their conversation, perhaps already absorbed in estate business again.

She turned away from the window and moved across the beautiful chamber towards the bed. A momentary soft tapping sound at the connecting door to his adjacent chamber made her heart leap, but it was only the house settling. Of course, he was down in the library and, anyway, he wouldn’t come to her - not yet, perhaps not for some time. This was, after all, a marriage of convenience, in his eyes.

But as Charlotte slipped between the cool sheets, she remembered the vulnerability she’d glimpsed in his expression, the way that his voice had softened when speaking of his mother’s conservatory. There was more to William Hawthorne than he allowed the world to see, and she was beginning to understand that uncovering those hidden depths might be the work of months or even years.