What the Duke Wants(65)

But of course, the time he tried not to think of something, was the time that he could only think of that very thing,

In every possible way.

Which was why he was still awake after that eternal night, and was now pacing the library, trying very hard not to imagine what she looked like with her golden hair resting across her pillow, her eyes softly closed in sweet blissful slumber, or how seductive her expression would be when woken up with a morning kiss.

He groaned in agony. When did a vicar awaken? He glanced outside, noting the increasing light on the horizon. Maybe an hour more? He could survive an hour. One hour.

Sixty minutes.

But not one moment more.

****

Carlotta couldn’t sleep. Every time she tried to close her eyes, his gaze would come into focus, stealing her breath and making her want to pinch herself. Just to make sure it was real.

All of it.

Biting her lip, she remembered his determined stride as he commanded her kiss, not caring for his own reputation but wanting her, needing her so badly that he was willing to do anything to have her.

He was brave enough for the both of them, because a part of her knew that if he showed even the slightest hesitation, it would have ended differently.

But it didn’t.

It was rather like a fairy tale. The idea made her smile wider.

With a small sigh she rose from bed, it was full daylight now and she squealed in excitement knowing that today, this span of daylight would end with her being married…to Charles.

Who also happened to be a duke.

A quite notorious duke.

Wonders never ceased. Ever.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her sweet musings. “Yes,” she called.

Three girls rushed into her room, all speaking at once.

She grinned at her own foolishness at not taking the Duke’s advice and locking her door. A reckless folly, to be sure, but one she was thrilled to indulge in.

“Do you know what you’re going to wear? Bethanny asked, immediately going to her wardrobe.

“Can I do your hair?” Berty asked as she was hugged.

“You’re getting married today!” Beatrix twirled, her face beaming.

“Yes, I am getting married today, girls! And I need your help! Bethanny? What do you think I should wear?”

An hour later, her dress was chosen, her hair braided, quite lopsided by Berty —she hadn’t the heart to tell her she couldn’t help, the braid was precarious enough that it would unwind on its own in a few moments, easily allowing her to seek the aid of a lady’s maid for a proper coiffure— and Beatrix had smiled the entire morning, her face awash with excitement.

“I’m starving, can we please eat now?” Berty whined, even though she had a smile still lighting up her cherub-like countenance.

“Yes, I’m quite famished myself,” Carlotta teased as she lightly touched Beatrix’s nose.

“Carlotta?” Lady Southridge’s voice called through the closed door to her chamber.

“Yes?” Carlotta opened the door.

“You’re a vision… except, well…” Her eyes took in the lopsided braid. But before she could comment, Carlotta glanced meaningfully to Berty, who was beaming. “Your hair is lovely.” She nodded.

Quick woman, that Lady Southridge.

“We have much to do if you’re getting married today. To think! No waiting for the banns, no church! Charles should be ashamed of himself.” It would have sounded like a scolding, had she not been smiling the whole time she said it, or clapping her hands excitedly. “You’ll be gossip of the year… of course I’ll make sure everyone knows it was a love match, an impatient one. Not one out of necessity.” She nodded sternly.

“Er, yes,” Carlotta agreed, her face heating. Of course, that would be easily proven false in year when she didn’t give birth to the duke’s heir after an exceptionally short term.

But it still was nice, knowing she had a force like Lady Southridge in her corner.

Because the woman was, indeed, a force.

“We’ll breakfast and then hopefully Charles will have returned. It seems he’s already left… strange man. You’d think he’d want to be with his future bride.” She clicked her tongue and led them all away towards the dining hall, the girls following behind, giggling and asking a million questions about the special day.

The question of the duke’s whereabouts was answered as they were finishing breakfast, when he arrived with a very disgruntled vicar in tow.

“Are you ready?”


“You can’t be serious!” Lady Southridge stood as she tossed her napkin on the table.

“My question was not aimed at you, madam.” The duke spared her only a glance.

“But it’s… simply not done! She needs to have her hair properly… er…” Lady Southridge glanced to Berty. “It needs to be re-braided,” she finished, which was the truth as it was slowly coming unwound.

“Oh! I can fix that!” Berty took the words as her cue and rushed around the table to re-braid the ends of her hair.

“Perfect! Now, are you ready?” the duke asked again, walking over towards Carlotta and placing a quick kiss on her lips.

“For?” she asked, quite perfectly pleased at his show of affection. She could get used to morning kisses at the breakfast table… dinner kisses, bedtime kisses. Especially bedtime kisses.