Runaway Duchess (London Ladies Book 1)

by Jillian Eaton

  Charlotte mulled it over. “But you swore Annabeth to secrecy.”

  “And she swore on her mother’s life. A mother, by the way, who has been dead for nearly three years now.”

  “You should be a politician,” Charlotte said, shaking her head in amazement and no small amount of admiration.

  “Quite true,” said Dianna, looking inordinately pleased with herself. “Unfortunately, I fear that would not go over well in the House of Lords. Could you imagine if I showed up and demanded a seat?” Her lips curved. “They would laugh themselves silly.”

  They would indeed, but that was a battle Charlotte would have to fight another day. For now, she needed to ensure her reintroduction into Society as Lady Graystone went smoothly and without angst, for Gavin would have little need for a wife who was shunned by the ton.

  They considered him to be an outsider, but an outsider they accepted because of his wealth and the connections he had forged. Gavin needed those connections to keep his wealth, and his wealth to keep his connections. Without one the other suffered dearly, and there was no doubt in Charlotte’s mind that if she came to threaten either he would cast her aside as quickly as if she were an old shoe.

  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 Paine’s clutches that little else seemed important.

  “Do you think it will work?”

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

  Charlotte wished she felt the same.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  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, although quietly and when no one thought they were being overheard. After all, love in and 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 accompanied a lady marrying 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 still 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 more exclusive than the last, and at last Gavin had what he he’d always wanted: Society’s acceptance. 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, or 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, because while she knew her love for him was genuine, she feared any signs of adoration he displayed were only an act for the benefit of 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.

  Every evening, like clockwork, Gavin 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 emotionlessly wishing her a good night.

  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.

  At least she finally understood why Gavin was so opposed to love.

  Loving someone tore a hole in your heart. When they loved you in return, that hole was filled. But if they didn’t, it was nothing but a gaping, bloody wound.

  And 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 skirt 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 r
efreshments. 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 leaf—”

  “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 just 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.”

  Charlotte was unconvinced. “He needed a lady wife,” she pointed out. “One who would get him accepted into Society and run his household.”

  “Ah, yes, run his household. Funny you should mention that. How is it going so far?”

  “There have been a few minor hiccups—”

  “A few?” Dianna’s tone was ripe with skepticism. “You have absolutely no control, which is something your husband would notice, if it was something he cared about. He did not marry you so you could run his house, sweetling. Why, one has only to talk to you for two minutes to know you can hardly manage to dress yourself, let alone direct twenty servants.”

  Charlotte had no idea what point Dianna was trying to make this time, but she wasn’t exactly making her feel any better. “I can dress myself,” she grumbled.

  “Please. Your stockings do not even match.”

  They didn’t? Glancing beneath the table Charlotte lifted the hem of her dress and saw that Dianna was right. Huffing out a breath, she dropped her skirts and fixed her so-called friend with a frosty glare. “There a hundred other things in this world to worry about other than matching stockings, such as the division between the classes and equal wages for women and young girls being forced into prostitution and—”

  “And thank you for proving my point. If a common man wanted a snobbish lady wife who would manage his affairs and show him off to high society, you are absolutely the last woman on earth he would have picked. I say that, of cours
e, with love.” She stood up and grinned at Charlotte’s dumbfounded expression. “I can see my work here is done.”

  “Wait,” Charlotte said. “What do I do now?”

  Dianna pursed her lips. “Why, do exactly as I have told you.”

  “Which is?”

  “Your husband is a man who fights fiercely for the things he does not have. Right now he has you. Make it so he does not, and he will move mountains to get you back.”

  Could it be so simple? Had Gavin wanted her from the beginning? And if he did, why not tell her? Unless he did not want to admit it to himself, stubborn, hard headed man that he was. Admit that he wanted her, not because of what she could offer, but because of who she was. Admit that he loved her as she loved him. Admit that, as crazy it seemed, from the first moment they met there was a spark of connection neither of them could ignore.

  “Dianna, you are a genius.”

  Her friend shrugged. “So I have been told.”

  “But… how could you know all of this?”

  “I believe in love,” Dianna said simply. Toying with a curl, she tucked it behind her ear and smiled. “And I believe in happily-ever-after. You cannot have one without the other, and I believe you and Gavin are capable of both.”

  Charlotte shook her head slowly from side to side as she absorbed it all. “But what about—” She cut herself off short, horrified at what she had been about to ask. There were some things even best friends did not discuss, and Dianna’s fiancée was one of them.

  Something flashed in Dianna’s clear blue eyes. Something cold. Something fierce. It was gone before it had time to take root, and in the blink of an eye she was her gentle, amiable self. “I believe in love,” she repeated firmly. “Sometimes love comes quickly, sometimes love comes slowly, and sometimes it does not come at all. But you have to believe in it, or else what is the point?”

  “What is the point indeed,” Charlotte murmured. Jumping impulsively to her feet, she skirted around the table and embraced Dianna in a quick, tight hug that left them both breathless. “Thank you.”