Chapter 10 #2
The carriage had barely stopped before a footman hurried forward to assist her down. Charlotte gathered her skirts carefully and reminded herself that she was perfectly composed.
I'm absolutely not composed. I'm a wreck. Seeing him… no, I will go straight to my room and hopefully escape his presence.
The moment she entered the foyer, Mr. Baxter appeared as though summoned by magic from the walls themselves. The butler accepted her gloves with practiced calm before inclining his head politely.
“Miss Brown,” he said, “His Grace is expecting you in his study.”
Charlotte’s stomach tightened immediately.
Of course.
“Oh,” she managed.
Mr. Baxter gave nothing away, though Charlotte sometimes suspected the man secretly knew every scandal occurring within a five-mile radius. “If you would follow me.”
Charlotte forced herself to smile politely. “Thank you, Mr. Baxter.”
As they moved through the long corridors, Charlotte found herself smoothing her skirts repeatedly for no reason whatsoever. Her pulse quickened with every step closer to Victor’s study. It irritated her enormously that merely being alone with the man now made her nervous.
Ridiculous.
He is only a duke. A very handsome duke. A very handsome duke who kissed like sin itself.
Charlotte nearly walked directly into Mr. Baxter when he stopped before the study doors.
The butler knocked once. “Miss Brown, Your Grace.”
Victor’s voice sounded from within immediately. “Send her in.”
Mr. Baxter opened the door for her. Charlotte stepped inside while the butler withdrew quietly behind her.
“Close the door,” Victor said.
Charlotte hesitated only briefly before doing so.
The study felt warmer than she remembered.
Sunlight spilled through the tall windows behind Victor’s desk while the faint scent of leather, ink, and sandalwood lingered heavily in the air.
Victor himself stood near the fireplace in dark clothes that somehow made him appear even broader and more imposing than usual.
Entirely unfair.
Charlotte clasped her hands together tightly. “You wished to see me, Your Grace?”
“Yes,” Victor replied smoothly.
He moved away from the fireplace and slowly circled around the desk toward her with the same calm confidence that always unsettled her. Charlotte hated how aware she became whenever he approached too closely.
“Where were you?” he asked.
Charlotte blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“This afternoon.”
“Oh.” She straightened slightly. “My family arrived in town. They are staying with my uncle, the Viscount of Lambourne.”
Victor nodded. “Indeed.”
“I left a word with Mr. Baxter before taking the carriage.”
“Yes,” Victor said lightly. “Baxter informed me.”
Charlotte frowned faintly. “Then why ask me?”
Victor’s mouth curved slightly. “To see what you would say.”
Charlotte stared at him in disbelief before huffing softly. “You truly are impossible.”
“I have heard that often,” he smirked.
“I know you still do not trust me,” she continued, “but I am nothing if not honest.”
Victor studied her for a moment with that unreadable expression of his. Then, without responding directly, he began circling her slowly as though assessing her.
Charlotte immediately became suspicious.
“What are you doing?”
“Hm…” he said as though giving an item an inspection.
“Your Grace?” she questioned, feeling the heat take over her.
Victor glanced deliberately toward her gown. “You will require something more suitable.”
Charlotte frowned. “Suitable for what?”
“Society, of course,” he said.
She looked down at herself instinctively. “There is nothing wrong with this dress.”
“There is if one intends to attend society beside a duke and his grandmother,” he said as he stopped circling her.
Charlotte blinked in surprise. “The opera?”
Victor moved toward his desk and lifted a large box resting upon the floor beside it. He placed it carefully atop the polished wood before gesturing toward it.
“Open it,” he said.
Charlotte hesitated. “What is it?”
“A crocodile,” he teased.
She narrowed her eyes. “You are mocking me.”
“Yes,” he agreed easily, “and it is diverting, but now open the box.”
Charlotte approached cautiously before untying the ribbon and lifting the lid.
Her breath caught instantly. Inside rested the most beautiful gown she had ever seen.
Soft yellow silk shimmered beneath the sunlight like liquid gold while delicate embroidery trailed across the bodice and sleeves in elegant detail. The fabric looked impossibly expensive.
Far too expensive.
“Oh,” Charlotte whispered.
Victor watched her closely. “Do you like it?”
Like it?
Charlotte could scarcely stop staring. “It is beautiful,” she admitted softly.
Victor leaned one shoulder casually against the desk. “Good.”
She carefully touched the silk with hesitant fingers. “What is it for?”
“My grandmother wishes to attend the opera,” Victor explained. “You shall accompany us.”
Charlotte looked up immediately. “Truly?”
“Yes.”
“And… the misunderstanding?” she asked.
Victor nodded once. “The opera is precisely the sort of event where news travels quickly. We shall appear together publicly and clarify matters before the entire ton invents wedding invitations.”
Charlotte laughed despite herself. “I fear that may already be occurring somewhere.”
“Perhaps, but we must stop it,” he said.
She looked once more at the gown. “You purchased this for me?”
Victor shrugged lightly. “None of your country gowns would survive the opera.”
Charlotte gasped softly. “That is rude.”
“It is honest,” he said.
She ought to have been offended. Instead, she found herself smiling.
Infuriating man.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “For the gown… and for inviting me.”
Victor’s expression shifted slightly at her gratitude. “You have attended the opera before?”
“Only once,” Charlotte admitted. “Years ago.”
“And did you enjoy it?” he asked.
“I spent most of the evening terrified I might sneeze at the wrong moment.”
Victor actually laughed quietly. The sound startled her. It transformed him entirely when he laughed genuinely rather than offering those sharp, calculating smiles he wore like armour. Charlotte’s attention drifted downward before she could stop herself.
To his mouth…. A mistake.
Victor noticed immediately.
Of course, he noticed immediately.
Slowly, deliberately, he stepped closer. Charlotte’s pulse quickened at once.
“You are staring again,” he murmured.
“I was not,” she said.
“You were,” he said as he closed the space between them.
Charlotte opened her mouth to argue, but Victor reached out before she could speak.
His fingers tilted her chin upward gently but firmly until she had no choice except to meet his gaze.
The touch sent warmth spiraling through her far too quickly.
“Since we shall be appearing together publicly,” Victor said quietly, “I expect you to remain on your best behavior.”
Charlotte frowned despite the dangerous fluttering in her stomach. “My behavior?”
“Yes,” he said.
She scoffed softly. “You speak as though I am the scandalous one between us.”
Victor’s eyes darkened slightly with amusement. “You barged into my private room wielding a candlestick. Your behavior is not exactly restrained.”
“The sounds frightened me,” she said defensively.
“Then you insulted me.” His brow rose.
“You deserved it,” she said.
Victor’s thumb brushed lightly against her chin before withdrawing. “You are remarkably argumentative.”
“And you are remarkably arrogant,” she said.
“Yet here we are, despite our traits,” he said.
Charlotte hated how close he stood. Worse, she hated how much she noticed it. The warmth radiating from him. The roughness in his voice whenever he spoke softly. It unsettled her completely.
“I promise to behave perfectly,” she said stiffly.
Victor raised one dark brow. “That sounded painful for you.” His mouth twitched slightly. For one dangerous moment, neither of them moved. The silence stretched.
Charlotte became painfully aware once more of the last time they stood this close, the argument, the kiss, the shocking heat of it. Her lips tingled traitorously at the memory.
Good heavens. I need distance immediately.
Charlotte stepped back quickly. “I should check on the dowager.”
Victor remained still for a moment before inclining his head once. “Yes,” he said quietly. “That is probably a good idea.”
Charlotte nodded perhaps too quickly. Then she gathered the gown carefully into her arms and turned toward the door with far more composure than she actually felt. Behind her, Victor’s gaze followed every step.
And somehow, though he said nothing further, Charlotte could feel it all the way down the corridor long after she escaped the study.