What the Duke Wants(29)

“Just because you arrive early doesn’t give you the right to cast judgment,” he ground out.

All morning his nerves had been frayed, his mind overworked with the anticipation and anxiety of seeing Carlotta again. His lack in ability to control his emotions was testing his patience and the last thing he needed was the dry sarcasm of Lady Southridge.


“I’m not an advocate of drinking spirits before noon, but I do think that perhaps you should have a glass of brandy, your eyes look positively wild.”

“If I need brandy it’s because I’ll be in a carriage for the next two days with you,” Charles muttered, but nevertheless poured himself a glass of brandy. Sipping it, he felt its warming trail to his stomach profoundly comforting. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and forced his mind to focus.

“See? I knew it would help.”

“Remind me again why you are coming?” Charles asked as he turned to face Lady Southridge.

“I was invited.”

“I don’t remember that part of our conversation.” Charles raised an eyebrow. “I rather thought you invited me to my own estate. But that can’t be accurate,” he replied wryly.

“I distinctly remember my presence being necessary.” She sniffed delicately.

“Which is far different than an invitation.”

“Do you want me to explain, again, why I want to spend time with your wards? Because I’m surely able to list the reasons both you and Graham should have married by now producing Lord knows how many heirs given both your reputations,” she challenged.

“I do believe I hear Murray. He must be coming to tell us the carriage is ready.” Charles cleared his throat, his cravat seeming oddly tight. Lady Southridge’s threat had hit its mark. The last thing he wanted to do was find himself in the middle of one of her matchmaking schemes.

Hearing about his ability to procreate was quite low on the list as well. Especially when approaching the topic with one viewed as a parent figure. Scratch that. It was definitely at the top of the list of things he never wanted to discuss, ever, with Lady Southridge.

Ever, ever.

However, he wouldn’t mind discussing the topic with Carlotta.

He swallowed as he ducked into the hall. Murray wasn’t anywhere to be found, but he hadn’t expected to see him. He’d only mentioned him in desperation to change the subject of conversation.

He only hoped Lady Southridge didn’t bring up the topic once they were in the carriage. He’d have no escape but to fling himself from the moving carriage.

But if she began speaking about his ability to produce offspring, he would be sorely tempted.

Charles walked a few steps down the hall, his mind wandering. It would take them almost two days to get to Greenford Waters. It was one of his favorite estates and its large landholding was the reason he sent the girls to that location. He had spent most of his boyhood in that home, and it carried fond memories for him still. It had been too long since he’d returned and he found himself anticipating their departure even more.

Of course, that Carlotta was in residence was an added siren call that couldn’t be denied. He’d have to watch himself, closely. Not only did he not want to repeat the same mistakes he made earlier, but he’d have a witness: Lady Southridge.

The woman had a memory like an elephant.

Good Lord, this was going to be a nightmare.

“Your grace? The carriage is ready.” Murray approached him from behind, bowing slightly.

“Very well. Please attend Lady Southridge. I’ll meet her at the carriage.”

Murray nodded and left, his back straight and tall as he walked to the library to alert Lady Southridge.

Charles strode to the circular drive where the carriage waited, pulled by his prized Blood Bays. The horses waited patiently, shaking their heads and chewing the bit.

Once seated in the well-sprung carriage, he closed his eyes.

“You’re not fooling me. I know you’re not asleep already. You aren’t that old.” Lady Southridge commented as she settled on the plush bench.

“Not sleeping, praying.”

“For?”

“Deliverance.”

She snorted.

“I do believe that was a snort. How unladylike,” Charles commented, opening his eyes and regarding her.

“When one speaks something so absurd, sometimes the only polite thing to do is snort. Any words I would have said would have been far less lady like.” She shot back, a grin teasing her lips.

“Very well.”

She leaned forward, as if about to disclose a great secret. “And for the record. I’ve been praying for deliverance as well… God keeps telling me to wait. At this point, I’m sure I’ll be near death. But I have hope for you still.”

“My heart beats with joy at your faith in me.”

“Someone has to hold on to hope for your blackened soul,” she quipped.

“How far is it to Bath, again?” Charles sighed heavily, glancing heavenward.

“As if you don’t have the miles counted already. Less than two days, darling. If I were you, I’d worry less about enjoying my pleasant company and more about important matters.”

“Such as?” Charles felt his eyebrow raise, his tone dubious.

“Such as whom you shall marry this season.” She beamed and leaned back, her eyes bright with hope.