very sorry it had come to such a horrible situation for her father.
“How did you ... how did you even come to know what happened?” he wondered, turning his body on his side so that he could look down on her face. Even at this angle, he hoped his facial scars were still mostly hidden in the shadows of the dark room.
He could feel her shrug but also heard a faint gasp, as if she were suddenly in pain. “I ... a footman delivered the news the day after it happened,” she whispered, her eyes opening so that she looked into his. “And I spoke with the doctor at St. Bartholomew’s where I volunteered as a nurse in the children’s ward. We left for Sussex that very afternoon. I was so very frightened you would not survive. Most who are burned as badly as you were do not,” she spoke quietly.
Joshua furrowed his brow, shocked that news of his injuries could incite such a response in a woman who had only danced with him at a couple of balls. “But you barely knew me,” he countered.
Charlotte fought back tears. “You were my betrothed. I have spent my entire life preparing to be your wife,” she replied, her breath catching at the end.
Shutting his eyes for a moment, Joshua considered her words, still stunned by her conviction to duty. For that was all it was. Her true betrothed was his brother – had been since the two were quite young. With his brother’s death, perhaps she was his betrothed now. But she did not know him, did not know his character or how he treated his servants or how he conducted the business of the duchy. She is a fool, he thought suddenly. But he cursed himself, thinking that, if she was, then so was he. If he hadn’t been the only surviving son of the seventh Duke of Chichester, he would not have been required to take on the duties of the duchy. He could have continued his life as the second son, enjoying the fruits of the duchy and the life of bedding mistresses, of gambling all night in gaming hells, of attending balls and soirées without any intent to marry. He could have had that life had he not been the one remaining son still alive after the disastrous night of the fire.
All the responsibilities of the duchy were now on his shoulders.
“Given the situation, I ... I would insist ... I should insist that you find another, more worthy candidate to be your husband,” he whispered, thinking that if he got her out of his bedchamber without a servant seeing them together, her reputation would remain intact and she could still be considered biddable.
“No!” she nearly shouted, her body wiggling up the front of his so that she could better make eye contact. The mere movement of her satin-covered breast against his chest sent desire shooting through his loins. It took all of his resolve not to take her maidenhood right then. “I do not wish to be married to another,” she added quietly, knowing her comment sounded naïve to him. But it was too early to tell him that she had fallen in love with him during the days she’d spent at his bedside, the endless hours holding his hands and tending to his wounds. It had been torture for her to have to hurt him when the doctor insisted she be the one to remove the burned skin with tiny tweezers, sure that each touch of the bare metal teeth to his raw flesh sent searing pain through him. “He will not cry out if a woman is doing it,” the doctor explained, his comment sounding so cruel she nearly had him removed from Joshua’s care. “I have an obligation to ...” You, she had almost said. “...This duchy. And I intend to fulfill my obligation.”
Especially now. Especially after everything else that had happened since Wisborough Oaks had burned, killing Joshua’s family and rendering half the main estate house useless. Once she was sure Joshua was on the mend, but not yet being old enough to marry, Charlotte had returned to society life in London. She attended balls and socials and insisted her betrothed would be as good as new when
“How did you ... how did you even come to know what happened?” he wondered, turning his body on his side so that he could look down on her face. Even at this angle, he hoped his facial scars were still mostly hidden in the shadows of the dark room.
He could feel her shrug but also heard a faint gasp, as if she were suddenly in pain. “I ... a footman delivered the news the day after it happened,” she whispered, her eyes opening so that she looked into his. “And I spoke with the doctor at St. Bartholomew’s where I volunteered as a nurse in the children’s ward. We left for Sussex that very afternoon. I was so very frightened you would not survive. Most who are burned as badly as you were do not,” she spoke quietly.
Joshua furrowed his brow, shocked that news of his injuries could incite such a response in a woman who had only danced with him at a couple of balls. “But you barely knew me,” he countered.
Charlotte fought back tears. “You were my betrothed. I have spent my entire life preparing to be your wife,” she replied, her breath catching at the end.
Shutting his eyes for a moment, Joshua considered her words, still stunned by her conviction to duty. For that was all it was. Her true betrothed was his brother – had been since the two were quite young. With his brother’s death, perhaps she was his betrothed now. But she did not know him, did not know his character or how he treated his servants or how he conducted the business of the duchy. She is a fool, he thought suddenly. But he cursed himself, thinking that, if she was, then so was he. If he hadn’t been the only surviving son of the seventh Duke of Chichester, he would not have been required to take on the duties of the duchy. He could have continued his life as the second son, enjoying the fruits of the duchy and the life of bedding mistresses, of gambling all night in gaming hells, of attending balls and soirées without any intent to marry. He could have had that life had he not been the one remaining son still alive after the disastrous night of the fire.
All the responsibilities of the duchy were now on his shoulders.
“Given the situation, I ... I would insist ... I should insist that you find another, more worthy candidate to be your husband,” he whispered, thinking that if he got her out of his bedchamber without a servant seeing them together, her reputation would remain intact and she could still be considered biddable.
“No!” she nearly shouted, her body wiggling up the front of his so that she could better make eye contact. The mere movement of her satin-covered breast against his chest sent desire shooting through his loins. It took all of his resolve not to take her maidenhood right then. “I do not wish to be married to another,” she added quietly, knowing her comment sounded naïve to him. But it was too early to tell him that she had fallen in love with him during the days she’d spent at his bedside, the endless hours holding his hands and tending to his wounds. It had been torture for her to have to hurt him when the doctor insisted she be the one to remove the burned skin with tiny tweezers, sure that each touch of the bare metal teeth to his raw flesh sent searing pain through him. “He will not cry out if a woman is doing it,” the doctor explained, his comment sounding so cruel she nearly had him removed from Joshua’s care. “I have an obligation to ...” You, she had almost said. “...This duchy. And I intend to fulfill my obligation.”
Especially now. Especially after everything else that had happened since Wisborough Oaks had burned, killing Joshua’s family and rendering half the main estate house useless. Once she was sure Joshua was on the mend, but not yet being old enough to marry, Charlotte had returned to society life in London. She attended balls and socials and insisted her betrothed would be as good as new when
Similar Books
