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Authors: Jillian Eaton

BOOK: The Runaway Duchess
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She
should have thought of the repercussions that could form due to their hasty
marriage before they ever left for Scotland, but she had been so desperate to
escape the duke’s clutches that little else seemed important. Now she found
herself in a fine mess of things and were it not for Dianna and her quick mind
all hope would be lost entirely instead of dangling by a very thin thread. A
thread that was, ironically enough, being held between the pudgy fingers of
Lady Annabeth.

“Do
you think it will work?”

“It
will,” Dianna said confidently. “I am sure of it.”

Charlotte wished she felt the same.    

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

 

 

Four Weeks Later

 

 

It
worked.

Courtesy
of Annabeth’s penchant for spreading gossip, news of Charlotte and Gavin’s
wedding spread like wildfire through the
ton
.

Courtesy
of Dianna’s creative spin on the truth, everyone believed the newlyweds were
madly in love and Charlotte was not only forgiven, she was commended, albeit
quietly and when no one thought they were being overheard. After all, love in
itself was not a traditionally acceptable reason to marry, but it carried with
it a romanticism that all women, no matter their age or social standing,
dreamed of one day finding for themselves.

There
was also a sense of intrigue and excitement that went with a lady wedding a
commoner. A commoner who was accumulating wealth hand over fist even as
England’s most prestigious families were losing their fortunes by the day.

Changes
were in the air. The old ways were fading to make way for the new, and many were
whispering Charlotte was only the first to find her husband outside of the
peerage.

Oh,
there were some who touted it as the largest scandal to hit London since Lady
May was found with Lord Thatcher in the drawing room with her skirts up around
her ears, but they were few and far between and quickly shushed when they
raised their voices in opposition against the
ton’s
newest darlings.

Invitations
poured in, each one more exclusive than the last, and Gavin was what he had
always wanted to be: accepted by his peers. Their lives should have been
perfect, and to some degree they were, with one glaring exception…

They
treated each other like strangers.

Oh,
they were polite. Painfully so, to Charlotte’s mind, but when it came down to
it they exchanged less than a dozen words per day. Gavin kept busy with work,
while she divided her time between visiting Dianna and gardening. The only time
they behaved as a true husband and wife was when they were under the scrutiny
of the
ton
.

Charlotte
lived for those moments when she could hold Gavin’s arm when they walked into a
ballroom, sit beside him in an opera box, or simply gaze upon him without
having to disguise her affection. The few times she caught him staring at her
in a similar fashion only made her feel worse instead of better, however, for
while she knew her love for him was unfading, she feared any signs of adoration
he displayed in her was feigned for those around them.

As
the days became weeks Charlotte drew further and further into herself and
Gavin, obsessed with his work, drew further and further away. She grew
terrified the invisible wall that had come to exist between them was
unbreakable; the stone too hard for even the heaviest hammer to crack.

The
only sliver of light in an otherwise dark and dreary world was the knowledge
that Gavin was not finding solace in the arms of another woman.

Every
evening, like clockwork, he returned home at half past six. He changed for
dinner, ate across from her without looking up from his newspaper, and went to
bed, alone, after pressing a chaste kiss to her temple and wishing her an
emotionless goodnight.

She
quickly came to hate those kisses. She also hated all of the pretending.
Pretending she did not secretly yearn for her husband every second of every
day. Pretending his cool aloofness did not cut her to the bone. Pretending
things would get better in time.

She
did not
want
to feel this way, and at least now she knew why Gavin was
so adamantly opposed to love. When you loved someone it tore a hole in your
heart. If they loved you in return the hole was filled, but if they didn’t it
was nothing more than a gaping, bloody wound. 

Charlotte
found herself bleeding all the time.

The
only thing that served to distract her from thinking about Gavin were her
visits with Dianna. Today her dear friend had come to call on her at Shire
House to divulge all of the delicious rumors that had sprung up since the last
time they saw each other.

“Did
you hear where you spent your honeymoon?” Nipping into a pastry, Dianna brushed
crumbs from the lap of her yellow muslin dress and grinned ear to ear when
Charlotte shook her head. “The coast of France, bathing in the healing waters
of the
Golfe du Lion
.”

Releasing
an unladylike snort of laughter, Charlotte stood up to refresh their drinks. A
light breeze played through her hair and she tucked a stray curl absently
behind one ear as she went to the edge of the freshly stoned courtyard to fetch
a large pitcher of lemonade.

With
renovations continuing inside the house, she had taken to spending most of her
time outside, tucked away from the noise and Dobson’s never ending glares.

For
whatever reason the butler had taken an instant dislike to her. No, not
dislike. Hate was a better term. There was hate in his dark eyes whenever she
caught him staring at her. An oily, venomous kind of hate that had poisoned the
rest of the staff against her. Oh, they certainly hopped to when Gavin was
about. But when he was away – which was the majority of the time – both she and
Tabitha were outright ignored. It made running an effective household
impossible, which was why, weather permitting, she remained outside.

Amidst
the towering oak trees and overgrown gardens behind the estate no one bothered
her, not even Dobson. She could have reported his insubordinate behavior to
Gavin, of course. Dianna and Tabitha had urged to do just that on more than one
occasion, but she was hesitant. After all, one of the reasons Gavin had married
her was so she
could
manage the day to day affairs of Shire House and
telling him of Dobson’s blatant disrespect would be the same as admitting
failure.

Hefting
up the full silver pitcher of lemonade she refreshed Dianna’s glass and then
her own before setting it down on the wrought iron table between them. Together
– she had not bothered to waste her time going inside to ask for help – they
had dragged the heavy table from the middle of the courtyard to the far corner
of the lawn where afternoon shade was abundant.

Stray
filters of light trickled down through the branches, highlighting Dianna’s
ivory skin and delicate, doll like countenance. “I still do not understand why
you do not have that awful butler thrown out on his ear. It would serve him
right after how he has treated you.” She took a sip from her glass, puckered
her lips, and set it quickly aside. “And while I know you mean well, your
lemonade tastes dreadful.”

“You
did not complain about it before.”

“Only
because I was dying of thirst.”

“It
is rather bitter,” Charlotte was forced to agree after taking a sip herself. “I
will have to remember to add more sugar next time.”

Dianna
made a face that had nothing to do with the bitterness of her drink. “You
should not have to remember anything, because you should not be making your own
refreshments. What is the point of being wealthy if you do not have servants
that serve you? Where is Dobson, that mangy cur? I should like to give him a
piece of my mind!”

“Do
sit down,” Charlotte said in exasperation when Dianna shot to her feet. “You
are behaving… Well, you are behaving like me.”

“Like
you used to behave, you mean.” Dianna settled gracefully back into her seat,
crossed her legs primly at the ankle, and proceeded to ruin the ladylike effect
by rolling her eyes, a habit she no doubt picked up from her best friend.
“Nowadays you are timid as a mouse. What has happened to you? Are you” – her
eyebrows lifted as her voice lowered – “
in the family way
?”

Charlotte’s
laugh was as sour as the lemonade. “No, no there is no chance of that.”

“No
chance? Then you mean…”

“We
have been sleeping in separate rooms.”

“My
parents have always kept separate bedrooms, and yet here I am.” Her lips
curved. “Do you need me to explain the birds and the bees to you? I think
someone
is under the impression that a baby is delivered by a stork or found under
a cabbage—”

“We
do not have relations!” Charlotte cried. She flung one hand out and knocked her
glass aside, spilling lemonade in a watery stream across the table. “There. Is
that what you wanted to hear? We were together – once! – and never again. Gavin
does not want children. Not,” she muttered sardonically under breath, “that we
are in danger of creating any.”

Dianna,
who had frozen like a deer in the crosshairs the moment Charlotte raised her
voice, stood up without a word to fetch a handful of linen towels from the
serving tray across the courtyard. Returning, she handed one to Charlotte to
blot at the spots of lemonade on her dress and used the rest to the clean the
table in ever widening circles. “You have never said anything before and, well,
truly you both seem so happy when I see you together. Are you sure you haven’t
had a spat? A lover’s quarrel, perhaps?” she said hesitantly, pausing
mid-swipe.

“An
act to curry the favor of the
ton
, nothing more.”

“I
see.” Dianna attacked the table again, more vigorously this time. “And of
course the reason you have not told me any of this before is because…”

“I
was ashamed,” Charlotte whispered. It was, at long last, time for the truth to
be spoken out loud, not only for the sake of Dianna’s ears but hers as well. “I
keep hoping things will change, but they never do. We live like strangers when
we are alone. Barely speaking. Never touching.”

Concern
was etched across every inch of Dianna’s pretty face. She set the damp towels
aside and clasped Charlotte’s hands before sinking into her chair. “Do you
think there is someone else? You know how men can be, especially men freshly
married. Perhaps he simply needs some time to adjust.”

“No,
Gavin’s work is his mistress. The most horrible part is he
told
me this
is how it would be from the beginning, and I refused to listen. ‘A business
arrangement’, he said. That is what he wanted, and that is what I agreed to,
but now…”

“Now
you have changed your mind,” Dianna finished when Charlotte’s voice broke.

Miserable,
she nodded. “Yes. Almost from the first moment after we were wed I began to
fall in love with him. There were times when I thought he was doing the same,
but he is such a hard man. I never know what he is thinking or feeling. He
hides himself behind a wall that I can never seem to get past.”

“And
you love him still? Even now?”

“Even
now,” Charlotte said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I know how foolish it
sounds. How stupid. I do not even know
why
I love him. He is short
tempered, brooding, mysterious—”

“Handsome
as the dickens,” Dianna interceded.

Charlotte
picked up one of the lemonade soaked linens and dabbed at her eyes. She hated
to cry, especially when other people could see. “Yes, he is quite easy to look
at, isn’t he?”

“Exceedingly
so.”

“But
that is not why I love him.”

“Maybe
not, but it certainly does not hurt.”

Oh,
Di, what am I going to
do
?” Leaning back in her chair, Charlotte dropped
her head and looked up at the sky. It glimmered through the canopy of leaves in
flashes of blue far above her, so easy to see yet impossible to touch. Gavin
was like that, she thought. Around all the time, yet somehow always out of
reach.

“I
do not know.” Dianna’s shoulders lifted and fell in an uneasy shrug. “Is there
a chance he could ever feel the same way about you?”

Charlotte
dropped her chin with a sigh. “Yes, and that is the most frustrating part. I
know with all my heart he could love me if he simply let himself, but he
refuses. We could be good together. I don’t know why, but we could. When I
decided to marry someone else to escape the duke, I never imagined I would fall
in love with him. It was supposed to be a marriage of convenience, nothing
more.”

Dianna’s
smile was small, and just a little sad. “Fate has a way of reminding us that
nothing is in our control, not even love. Has he talked to you about his life
before? Maybe if you knew more about him…”

But
Charlotte was already shaking her head. “No, nothing. He shuts me out,
consistently and completely. He is consumed with his work and making money. It
is the only thing he allows to be important to him.”

“Because
until now that is all he has had. Do not forget, we were born with wealth and
privilege. Your husband, by all appearances, was born with nothing. Everything
that we take for granted he has fought for, doing heaven knows what to get.”

“I
did not ask to be born a lady,” Charlotte said defensively. “And what does that
have to do with anything?”

“Don’t
you see?” Dianna’s eyes were wide, her color high. “It has to do with
everything
.
If you truly want Gavin, and I can see that you do, you must make him desire
you. Be a carriage.”

“Be
a carriage?” Charlotte sputtered. “What in the world does that mean?”

“It
means you must make yourself irresistible to him.” One golden eyebrow shot up.
“The problem, as I see it, is that you have been far too attainable. Has it not
crossed your mind that if he did not want to marry you he would not have done
so? I’ve no doubt Gavin is all of those things you have said he is. Boorish,
brooding—”

“I
never said he was boorish.”

Dianna
fluttered a hand in the air. “Boorish, ill tempered, same thing. What I am
trying
to say is that he is not a man who would allow himself to be talked into
something he did not want to do. He married you because he wanted to, not
because he had to.”

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