by Leah Conolly
“Her name is Charlotte Hackney,” Duncan said, his tone as firm as his gaze. “And, yes, that is precisely who I mean.”
His mother’s eyes widened with anger. She put her hands on her hips and took a step toward Duncan.
“Are you mad?” she asked. “That woman is a criminal and a fraud.”
Duncan glared at her.
“If she is either of those things, it is because of you, Mother,” he said.
Helena’s mouth fell open in protest.
“It was not I who lied to you,” she hissed.
“It was you that brought the authorities into it. It matters not what a flower is called,” he said, thinking about one of his favorite plays. “What matters is its sweetness and beauty. Charlotte has both, and that is more than real enough for me. I will marry her, Mother, and that is final.”
Helena’s face reddened. She picked up a glass paperweight and threw it into a nearby bookcase. Then she turned to the desk, shoving stacks of papers onto the floor. Duncan stared in shock. He had known that his mother would not take his news well, but he could never have imagined that she would be reduced to a childlike tantrum.
He stood and waited while his mother raged. When at last she turned to face him, breathing heavily from exertion, Duncan folded his arms and stared at her.
“Are you quite finished?” he asked, annoyed at his mother’s outburst.
“You absolutely will not marry that girl,” Helena hissed, still panting. “I guarantee it.”
Through his annoyance, he smirked at his mother once more.
“You are behaving like a child, Mother,” he said. “So, I shall treat you like one.”
Helena stared at him silently, and Duncan was glad that he had dumbfounded her. He expected that what he said next would absolutely astound her. He was, at last, ready to properly stand up to her, because his love for Charlotte was far greater than his desire to placate his mother. He took advantage of Helena’s silence to deliver his ultimatum.
“You will either agree to make peace with my Charlotte,” he said, speaking each word slowly, as though he were, in fact, talking to an unruly child. “Or you will be entirely cut off and cut out of all business decisions. Permanently.”
Helena gasped loudly.
“You would not dare,” she said, fury beginning to build within her again. “I will never allow you to do any such thing, any more than I will allow you to marry that woman.”
Duncan scowled at her.
“I have every right to cut you out of my business dealings,” he said, thinking of his embarrassing conversation with Paul Larson. “I have a witness to the fact that you are completely unaware of my schedule, and that you arrange meetings without my knowledge while I am previously obligated to attend to other business matters.”
Helena continued to glare at Duncan.
“I do what I feel is best, both for you and for the business,” she said.
“You are missing my point,” Duncan said, keeping his voice calm and careful. “You have no say in whom I love nor marry. Truthfully, you would likely be displeased with anyone I chose. Heaven knows you scared off many women before Charlotte.”
Helena’s face fell, and Duncan thought she looked more of a child than she had during her tantrum.
“They were no good for you,” she said. “She most certainly is not.”
“That is not for you to decide,” Duncan repeated. “Just as it would not be for me to decide whom you chose to marry.”
Helena snorted.
“As if I would ever remarry,” she said, her voice full of disdain.
Duncan looked at her, an idea occurring to him. His mother had not even attempted to attract any men since his father had died, and he suddenly realized that it was part of the reason why she was so overly involved in his business and his life.
“Truthfully, I think that would be a marvelous idea, Mother,” he said thoughtfully. “It would give you a companion, and someone to help you with your portion of the business.” Then, perhaps, you will stay out of mine, he added silently.
Helena’s eyes widened once more.
“Are you ordering me to remarry now?” she asked, incredulous.
Duncan nodded.
“Indeed, I am,” he said.
Helena cackled, putting one hand on her chest.
“Or what, you will cut me off?” she asked. “You have already made that threat, Duncan.”
Duncan nodded.
“That still stands,” he said. “Now I am telling you that you must find a suitor to marry within a fortnight.”
Helena stared at Duncan, her mouth agape once more. She seemed to be searching for some sort of retort, but she could find none.
“I believe that we are done here,” Duncan said. “I will have someone show you out.”
Helena stood there for a moment longer. At last, she clenched her hands by her sides, her face still red with anger.
“No, thank you,” she said curtly. “I will show myself out.”
With that, she turned and stormed out of the study, and shortly thereafter, out of the front door.
Duncan straightened his jacket and took a deep breath. He looked around the office at the mess his mother had made. He called to a passing maid, and apologetically requested that she clean it up. Then he went to fetch Charlotte.
Chapter 31
“Oh, Ruth,” Charlotte said as she heard the duchess storm out of the house. “What if she has upset Duncan again? What if my agreeing to marry him has made things worse?”
Ruth hugged Charlotte.
“He loves you,” she said soothingly. “He has told you so himself. He wants to marry you. I don’t think that anything his mother says or does is going to change his mind.”
Charlotte nodded.
“That is what I fear,” she said. “If she is displeased with his decision, what can she do to him?”
Ruth pushed Charlotte to arm’s length and looked at her.
“She cannot do anything to him,” she said. “Duncan is the duke and the head of the family. She cannot force him to do something he does not wish to do, nor can she prevent him from doing what he wants. Trust me; everything will be alright.”
Just then, the door to the drawing room opened slowly. Charlotte approached the door, wringing her hands. Duncan entered, smiling at her. She ran over to him and took his hands.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
Duncan nodded and brushed a rogue strand of hair from her face.
“Everything is fine, darling,” he said. “My mother will not be a problem any longer.”
Charlotte’s brow furrowed.
“I do not wish to come between you and your mother,” she said.
Duncan shook his head.
“My mother has been the one coming between us,” he said. “It is she who creates the troubles between us. Our problems are because of her, not you.” He kissed her hand. “I was determined not to allow her to come between us any longer. You are the woman that I choose to marry, and she must come to terms with that.”
Charlotte smiled. Hearing him say the words made the entire world feel right. He seemed so happy and calm.
“Are you sure that you would not prefer Miss Christine Becker?” she teased.
Duncan’s eyes sparkled as he looked at her.
“I do not care if your name is Thomas John,” he said. “I adore you for who you are in here.” He gently pointed to her heart, and then tapped her lightly on her temple.
The three of them laughed.
* * *
The following days were the happiest of Charlotte’s life. It felt strange, adjusting to life in Duncan’s home as his betrothed, rather than his employee, but it was bliss. Ruth continued to serve as Charlotte’s personal maid. One night, as Ruth helped Charlotte dress for bed, the maid suddenly embraced Charlotte fiercely.
“I am so happy for you,” she exclaimed.
Charlotte laughed.
“What is all this about?” she
asked.
Ruth beamed.
“I am just very proud of you,” she said. “Rather than resign yourself to a life with the horrible Comte, you followed your heart.” Ruth clasped her hands by her face and sighed. “It is like something out of a story book.”
Charlotte smiled and hugged her friend again.
“I am just glad that things are going well for you, too,” she said. “I cannot tell you how guilty I felt about the whole mess.”
Ruth giggled.
“Well,” she said. “At least we shall both have interesting stories to tell our children.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes.
“I think those stories are best forgotten, and never told to anyone,” she said with a laugh.
The next morning, Duncan knocked on the door to her room, just as Ruth had finished helping her dress. A kitchen maid followed carrying a tray laden with three plates of breakfast in her hands. Charlotte smiled warmly at the maid, as she set down the tray. The woman promptly curtseyed and exited the room. She looked at Duncan and raised her eyebrow.
“Oh, my,” she said. “What is all this about?”
Duncan’s smile was warm, but his eyes were pensive.
“I wanted to catch you early this morning so that I could speak to you about something,” he said.
Charlotte furrowed her brow.
“This sounds like bad news,” she said.
Duncan shook his head.
“Not precisely bad news,” he said. “Just, perhaps, a difficult subject.”
Charlotte bit her lip, ignoring the plates for the time being. She looked at Duncan and smiled.
“Well, I do love a challenge,” she said. Her voice was light, but her stomach did a little flip. She was not sure what Duncan was about to say, but his tone worried her a little.
Duncan looked at her as he took up one of the plates, his eyes full of affection. Her heart swelled with love for him, and suddenly she felt as though she could handle any difficult news.
“I am glad,” he said, pushing his food around the plate. “Because I really would like to get your father’s blessing before we wed.”
Charlotte’s heart stopped. The Comte’s last words to her came rushing back, and she looked at Duncan with wide eyes.
“I do not believe that we will ever receive my parents’ blessing,” she said. She had not realized until that moment that the idea of not having her parents at her wedding weighed heavily on her, especially now that she would be married in London, rather than across the sea in France.
Duncan put his plate aside and took her hand.
“I think I can make your father see reason,” he said. “If not, I will simply marry you anyway.”
Charlotte looked into Duncan’s eyes again. The love and confidence she saw there made her smile.
“Well,” she said. “I am prepared to try if you are.”
Duncan nodded.
“I would like to go this afternoon, if that is agreeable,” he asked.
Charlotte took a deep breath. She wasn’t prepared to face her father, but she knew it would be best to face the ordeal as soon as possible.
“That sounds perfect,” she said.
The day passed too quickly for Charlotte, and, before she knew it, she, Duncan, and Ruth were boarding the carriage to travel to her parent’s home in Plymouth. Her stomach was in knots. She tried to keep herself calm, but she was terrified. Part of her feared that the Comte would still be on the estate, waiting to drag her to France if she should ever return to her family’s home. However, she had Duncan now, and she knew that he would never allow such a thing to happen. She held onto that thought fiercely, as the carriage finally stopped at her parent’s front door.
The butler greeted them warmly and led them inside. A moment later, Charlotte saw her parents slowly approach them where they stood in the entryway.
Charlotte held her breath as her parents moved toward her. When her mother drew closer, Charlotte could see that she was crying. Without warning, her mother rushed toward her and wrapped her arms around Charlotte.
“Oh, darling,” she whispered. “I was so worried about you.”
Charlotte returned her mother’s embrace, both comforted and confused.
“I am quite well, Mother,” she said, releasing her mother. She opened her mouth to ask about the Comte, but she hesitated to broach the subject.
Her father stepped forward again, and Charlotte instinctively stepped back toward Duncan. His face was grim, and Charlotte clasped her hands in front of her nervously. But as her mother had done, the earl opened his arms and took his daughter into them.
“Charlotte,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Please, forgive me.”
Charlotte pulled back in utter surprise.
“What?” she began.
“The Comte was a terrible man,” her mother said quickly, interrupting her. “He barged in here, ranting and raving and saying terrible things about you.”
Her father nodded solemnly.
“You were right about him all along, my dear,” he said. “He tried to fight with the butler when we had him escorted off our property. He refused to leave until he got what he came for, or enough money to make an even trade, and then he threw one of my crystal scotch bottles at your mother when we ordered him to leave.”
Charlotte stood staring at her parents in shock. She felt terrible for the things the Comte had done. She regretted that they had had to find out what kind of person Francois was in such a fashion. Her eyes filled with tears, and she hugged her father again.
“Can you ever forgive us, darling?” her father asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
She released her father just enough to hold out an arm to her mother, too. Her mother joined them, and she hugged them both tightly, her heart full of love.
“Of course, I can,” she said.
From behind them, Duncan softly cleared his throat. Charlotte released her parents gently, then stepped back to allow Duncan to stand near them.
“Mother, Father,” Charlotte said, suddenly feeling nervous. “You remember Lord Willeton?”
Her mother and father curtseyed and bowed, respectively. When they looked at Duncan’s face, both were smiling warmly.
“Of course,” her father said. “It is good to see you, Lord Willeton.”
Charlotte glanced up at her father’s face and saw that he was smiling, and his eyes glinted with humor.
“I would like to apologize to you, but mostly to Charlotte, for the way I behaved over that ordeal with the constables,” Duncan said sincerely.
To Charlotte’s surprise, the earl bowed his head and nodded.
“As do I,” he said. “I treated poor Charlotte shamefully, and she did not deserve it.”
Duncan smiled warmly at the earl.
“Well, perhaps there is a way that we can make it up to her,” he said.
The earl looked intrigued, and the sparkle had returned to his eyes. Charlotte suspected that he knew what Duncan was about to say, and she held her breath once more.
“I wish to marry Charlotte, and I would like your blessing,” he said.
The earl studied Duncan for a moment. Suddenly, Duncan seemed as nervous as she felt.
The earl turned to look at his wife, and Charlotte could not help but follow suit. She was standing there, looking at Charlotte and Duncan with a dreamy smile on her face and tears in her eyes. She gave Charlotte’s father a small nod, and he turned back to face the couple.
“Lord Willeton,” he said, emotion filling his voice once more. “I would be honored to give you my blessing.”
Charlotte covered her mouth with her hands, tears of joy filling her eyes. Her mother rushed over to embrace her, as Duncan and the earl exchanged a hearty handshake.
“Oh, Father,” Charlotte said, releasing her mother to once more hug her father. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how happy you have made me.”
The earl hugged his daughter tightly.
“You
deserve all the happiness in the world, darling,” he said.
* * *
The surprises were not finished for the day. As Charlotte and Duncan arrived back at his home, they noticed a familiar carriage sitting out front. Charlotte looked at Ruth and then at Duncan, with wide eyes. Duncan took her hand. Without a word, they entered the house.