wives, Vivian, Duchess of Trent, and Olivia, Duchess of Durham, both lovely women in their own right, and both immediately kind to her, giving her new insight into the workings of her husbandâs mind, and especially his apparently well-known sense of humor. She had yet to experience it for herself, but then sheâd gotten to know him under somewhat trying circumstances. In due time she expected to grow to appreciate him, his disposition, and whatever he did to occupy his time. At least that was her hope.
For now, she had to give him high marks for allowing her full reign of his home and servants, even redecorating her bedroom suite for her arrival. She wouldnât have known that, of course, if it werenât for his housekeeper, Trudy, a middle-aged, buxom widow with four grown children and a mightily stern temperament. Sheâd only been in his employ for the better part of three months now, but the woman took it upon herself to make sure she understood that heâd fairly gutted her room of all furniture and adornments, then had it repapered in lilacs and lace to match new white lace curtains, purchased a large wardrobe, a canopied bed, and a small, white velvet sofa for the bedroom proper, all matching the vanity, at which she now sat, in her connected withdrawing room, its wood painted white and splashed with inlaid gold. To complete the look and add warmth, thick lavender rugs were placed generously across most of the polished wooden floor. She admired it at first sight, and couldnât wait to lower herself onto her new bed and pull the floral quilt upover her shoulders for a good week of sleep. But that would have to wait.
Suddenly the door behind her creaked open, and her thoughts returned once more to the present when she realized her new husband had entered her bed chamber unannounced. She inspected him for a moment through the mirror, noting how handsome he still looked even after such a tiring day, his face bathed in lamplight, his expression unreadable as he glanced first to her, then to Yvette, who had stopped brushing her hair in mid-stroke at his entrance.
âYou may leave us now,â he said brusquely.
âYes, sir,â Yvette returned with a curtsy. Then she laid the hairbrush on the vanity and quickly made her departure through the hallway exit, closing the door behind her.
Charlotte sat perfectly still, her eyes on him, caught a little off guard by his intrusion and even slightly embarrassed that heâd allow her maid to see him enter her room through their private, connecting door as if he couldnât wait to take her in marital consummation. He still wore his wedding clothes, though heâd removed everything but his trousers and shirt, unbuttoned to a âVâ at the neck, hinting at soft curls that grew upon the broadness of his chest just beneath the fine, silk fabric. The sight made her toes tingle even as she swallowed hard in an attempt to quash her nervousness.
âI still need a bit of time, your grace,â she said, hoping to sound haughty, securing her satin robe at her chest with a lightly closed fist.
He didnât respond to her comment, and he didnât give the room a second glance. For a moment he juststudied her face, her long, softly brushed hair as it draped over her shoulders, and the base of her throat where she clutched her robe, his eyes narrowing in some sort of thoughtful contemplation. Then a slow smile crept across his handsome mouth as he brought his hands out from behind his back.
âFor you, my darling wife,â he replied at length, his voice low and husky as he began to saunter in her direction.
Charlotte remained rooted to her chair, her uncertainty growing with each passing second as she lowered her gaze to the shimmery gold box tied with a red satin ribbon he held out in one large palm.
âA gift?â she asked, confused and attempting to crack the tension that threatened to envelop the
For now, she had to give him high marks for allowing her full reign of his home and servants, even redecorating her bedroom suite for her arrival. She wouldnât have known that, of course, if it werenât for his housekeeper, Trudy, a middle-aged, buxom widow with four grown children and a mightily stern temperament. Sheâd only been in his employ for the better part of three months now, but the woman took it upon herself to make sure she understood that heâd fairly gutted her room of all furniture and adornments, then had it repapered in lilacs and lace to match new white lace curtains, purchased a large wardrobe, a canopied bed, and a small, white velvet sofa for the bedroom proper, all matching the vanity, at which she now sat, in her connected withdrawing room, its wood painted white and splashed with inlaid gold. To complete the look and add warmth, thick lavender rugs were placed generously across most of the polished wooden floor. She admired it at first sight, and couldnât wait to lower herself onto her new bed and pull the floral quilt upover her shoulders for a good week of sleep. But that would have to wait.
Suddenly the door behind her creaked open, and her thoughts returned once more to the present when she realized her new husband had entered her bed chamber unannounced. She inspected him for a moment through the mirror, noting how handsome he still looked even after such a tiring day, his face bathed in lamplight, his expression unreadable as he glanced first to her, then to Yvette, who had stopped brushing her hair in mid-stroke at his entrance.
âYou may leave us now,â he said brusquely.
âYes, sir,â Yvette returned with a curtsy. Then she laid the hairbrush on the vanity and quickly made her departure through the hallway exit, closing the door behind her.
Charlotte sat perfectly still, her eyes on him, caught a little off guard by his intrusion and even slightly embarrassed that heâd allow her maid to see him enter her room through their private, connecting door as if he couldnât wait to take her in marital consummation. He still wore his wedding clothes, though heâd removed everything but his trousers and shirt, unbuttoned to a âVâ at the neck, hinting at soft curls that grew upon the broadness of his chest just beneath the fine, silk fabric. The sight made her toes tingle even as she swallowed hard in an attempt to quash her nervousness.
âI still need a bit of time, your grace,â she said, hoping to sound haughty, securing her satin robe at her chest with a lightly closed fist.
He didnât respond to her comment, and he didnât give the room a second glance. For a moment he juststudied her face, her long, softly brushed hair as it draped over her shoulders, and the base of her throat where she clutched her robe, his eyes narrowing in some sort of thoughtful contemplation. Then a slow smile crept across his handsome mouth as he brought his hands out from behind his back.
âFor you, my darling wife,â he replied at length, his voice low and husky as he began to saunter in her direction.
Charlotte remained rooted to her chair, her uncertainty growing with each passing second as she lowered her gaze to the shimmery gold box tied with a red satin ribbon he held out in one large palm.
âA gift?â she asked, confused and attempting to crack the tension that threatened to envelop the
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