Chapter 6

Chapter Six

NOT LIKE THIS

" W hat do you mean?" the Duke asked softly, matching Charlotte's low tone to avoid being overheard. "I am currently enjoying a quiet walk in the gardens with my intended."

Charlotte glanced over her shoulder to check how far the maid was from them. As she did so, subtle scents of pine and juniper washed over her. She breathed in deeply before realising that she was smelling the Duke. He caught her eye, a smile on his face that was all too knowing. I know that look. Charlotte shook her head as if to clear it, trying to see if the maid was close enough to hear them.

She was standing apart from them. Not so far that it would breach propriety but far enough to afford them some modicum of privacy.

Turning back to the Duke in a way she hoped conveyed shy earnestness to the maid, she said, "You know exactly what I mean. Why on Earth would you accept my father's invitation?"

"Why would I not? Your father is an interesting man, and who am I to turn down such hospitality." The Duke canted his head towards her, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow at him. "You are a duke. You could easily make up a very real and believable excuse so as not to see my father for any longer than necessary."

"If you are worried that I will give the game away, do not worry. I have far too much invested in this venture. Besides, I am rather partial to whiskey and a bit of Byron." The Duke glanced over his shoulder as he said it, waving politely at their chaperone before turning his gaze back to Charlotte.

"I expect Lord Byron is something of a hero to you." She was unable to keep the disapproval from her words.

"You do not care for his work?" Duke Verimore asked curiously. "I thought women loved it. After all, he is the quintessential romantic."

"His poetry may be beautiful, but at the end of the day, pretty words do nothing to mask his character." Charlotte gestured around them and used the motion to move a little further from the Duke. "Besides, whether or not you enjoy Byron is neither here nor there. You need to stop this at once."

"Stop what exactly?" Duke Verimore asked.

"The way you have been behaving all night. Being charming and funny with my family." Charlotte scowled at him. I do not recall a time that we all laughed so much. Not since… Well…

She felt an odd pang in her chest as she realised that she did not think she had had a family dinner that had felt so enjoyable and full of camaraderie since her mother had died. The realisation did nothing to temper the annoyance she felt, instead only adding to it.

"And you expected me to be what? Surly? Broody?" the Duke teased.

"No. Of course not." Charlotte shook her head.

"Then I do not see a problem." The Duke shrugged, the corner of his mouth quirking into a small smile.

Charlotte struggled not to throw her hands up in frustration, only managing it because she did not want the maid to think they were fighting. Even though that is exactly what we are doing. "And that is the issue! You do not see a problem, but it is still there. And you need to stop!"

"We are not even married and already you think you can just order me around?" the Duke teased, and Charlotte was tempted to stumble and ‘accidentally' tread on his foot.

"I do not think anything, but I refuse to simply stand by and let you trap us into something neither of us want because of your foolishness." Charlotte gave him a hard look.

"And what exactly do you think I will trap us into?" The Duke moved closer towards her, arching a brow.

"Marriage," Charlotte said simply.

"Marriage? I hardly think that likely. Besides, is it not rational to get them to like me? After all, they are much more likely to let you come to the estate with someone they trust." Charlotte recognised his tone as the same one the grooms used to calm anxious horses — it made her want to kick and stamp her own feet.

"Being trusted and liked is different. Besides, you have practically made them fall in love with you." Charlotte shook her head. Who would have thought it would be so easy to win their allegiance?

"Are you jealous because I have not managed to win your heart? Do not worry, just give me time." The Duke laughed softly, winking at her.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, glad the dim light hid the light flush of her cheeks. "There is no amount of time in the world that would let you win my heart. And behaviour like this just proves it."

"And what do you mean by that?" Duke Verimore asked.

"Well, it is obvious you do not think before you act. After all, can you not see the dangerous situation your actions are creating?" Charlotte took a steadying breath, trying not to let her voice get too loud.

"Dangerous situation? What on Earth are you talking about?" Duke Verimore asked.

"My family. If they love you, they are unlikely to let our engagement end. Not without a fight. And especially not when it is a match of such status." Charlotte thought of her stepmother's earlier glee and had to supress a shudder.

"I am sure we can manage them. After all, they are already rather charmed with me." The Duke smiled at her.

"And that is exactly the problem! You are the uncatchable bachelor, and now, you appear to have been caught. Lady Bellmore is practically beside herself with the joy of it." Charlotte scowled.

"As she should be; any mother would be delighted to have me as her son-in-law." The Duke's tone was light, teasing.

Charlotte replied sweetly, "But not any woman would delight to have you for a husband."

"I am told many would like such a thing." His hazel eyes sparkled, and Charlotte blushed more deeply.

I must not get distracted. She looked away from him. "Neither you nor I even want to be married. Or must I remind you of that fact?"

"Would it truly be so terrible to be married?" He stepped in front of her, walking backwards and forcing her to look at him.

"Yes. This engagement is not even real, and the last thing we need is for this sham to become shackles that tie us both together in perpetuity." Charlotte continued to walk, trying subtly to move past him.

"You say that as though it is the worst thing imaginable." The Duke stopped and fell into stop behind her, and Charlotte caught a note of something in his voice: annoyance.

"It is. Marriage is awful, and I have no intention of ever getting married. Especially to you." Charlotte shuddered.

"What exactly do you mean? Especially to me?" The Duke stopped walking, frowning at her.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Why on Earth would I want to be married to you?"

"My dashing good looks? My rapier sharp wit? My charm and good humour?" The Duke grinned.

"And let us not forget your humility," she added sarcastically.

"How could we forget that?" He swept her an overly dramatic bow.

"It beggars belief," Charlotte said flatly, refusing to be taken in by his act.

"You see, you might enjoy being married to me. Look, what a sparkling conversation we are having already!" Duke Verimore gestured between the two of them.

"Yes, so witty it is a wonder I do not already fall at your feet." Her voice was coolly detached as she smiled daggers at the man.

"Do not worry, I would catch you." He winked.

Charlotte felt her cheeks redden once more but refused to give in and instead replied as nonchalantly as she could, "Do you use that line with every woman you encounter?"

"Only the very lucky ones."

"And this is why I would never marry someone like you." Charlotte threw her hands up and began to walk away from the Duke.

He caught up to her in one stride, his brow furrowed as he asked, "Someone like me? You seem to be implying there is something somehow lacking in my character."

"Is there not? Are you not a rake?" Charlotte turned to face him, her arms crossed, accusation in her eyes.

An odd look crossed the Duke's face before he shrugged and replied, "That is my reputation. It does not mean that there is anything wrong with me per se ."

Charlotte snorted. "I may not want to be married or even expect love in a marriage, but I would expect at the very least respect."

"And you do not think I would respect you?" Duke Verimore asked.

"I think that a man with a reputation like yours would rather be cavorting with every woman under the sun than honouring his vows. He would be out carousing and drinking whilst I wasted away at home. I have no desire to be made a fool of." I will never be made a fool of, and I will not trust a rake. Not again . Charlotte met the Duke's gaze with defiance in her eyes.

"You seem rather certain that is what would happen. Have you not heard that reformed rakes make the best husbands?" His voice was soft, a teasing edge to it.

"If there were such a thing, then perhaps it would be true. I have known too many men like you." Charlotte fought back a memory, the embarrassment and anger welling within her.

"Have you now? How very sordid." The Duke took a step closer to her, and once more the scent of evergreens washed over her.

"Just because your mind creates sordid imaginations does not mean they are a reality." She refused to move, to give him the satisfaction.

"I was not the one who said she had known too many men," the Duke pointed out, his lips curling into a smirk.

"Perhaps one is too many," Charlotte replied.

"Are you suggesting that I am too much for you?" His eyes glittered again.

"Do you always assume that what a woman is saying is in fact about you?" Charlotte asked, exasperatedly.

"Do you always avoid questions with another question?" the Duke retorted.

"Only when I have no wish to answer." Charlotte looked up at the Duke.

For a moment, the air around them seemed to still. A cool breeze washed over them. They stood, neither willing to back down from the other.

"Then it seems we are at an impasse," the Duke murmured.

"It would seem so," she agreed, still refusing to back down.

Her heart was beating fast, and she was aware that she was standing very close to a man she had barely spent more than a handful of hours with. Yet she did not move away. He needs to know that he cannot push me around.

"Then there is only one course of action available to us," he said.

"Which is?"

"Negotiation." The word hung between them, heavy with meaning.

"What do you propose?" Charlotte canted her head towards him.

"I will tone down my charm though it may break your family's heart. But you must do something for me." His eyes glinted, a calculating look that reminded her of a wolf sizing up its prey.

"What?" she tried to sound wholly unruffled but was not sure how successful she had been, especially not as he grinned at her.

"Well, we need to sell this falsehood to my family and yours, or the entire thing will have been for nothing." Dominic gestured around them.

"If you are suggesting what I think you are suggesting —" she began, but he cut her off, laughing softly, a challenge in his eyes.

"What exactly do you think I am suggesting?" His voice was full of temptation.

"Something lewd, no doubt."

"I would never suggest such a thing. Not to a paragon of virtue such as yourself," Dominic teased and then became more serious. "No, my request is much more… personal."

"What is it?" Charlotte folded her arms across her chest.

"I will keep my distance from your family if you call me Dominic."

"You want me to call you by your Christian name?" Charlotte took a step back, shaking her head.

Just thinking the word felt oddly intimate. She wondered if he had felt the same when he said her name at dinner. Perhaps he is so used to over familiarity that such things do not bother him at all.

"When we are around people, yes. We must seem as though we are in love with each other, and if we are being overly formal, then it will seem rather strange," he pointed out reasonably.

"Fine. As you have already used my Christian name, it would make sense that I use yours," she agreed.

"Good." Dominic grinned a predatory grin. "Then say it."

"Right now?" Charlotte arched an eyebrow at him, her heart speeding up as she did so. I cannot let him see this.

"Yes."

"Dominic." The word fell from her mouth, evoking that sense of impropriety, of being too intimate. Perhaps with practice, I will grow used to it.

"Very good." Dominic stepped away from her and bowed low. "Then I will make my excuses to your father."

"Thank you." She hesitated a moment and then added, "Dominic."

For a moment, he looked surprised, and then he smiled. "I see you are already practicing."

"Practice makes perfect." Charlotte shrugged.

"So it does, my dear Lady Nettle. So it does." And there was something in the way he said her last name that made it feel as though he had said her first.

As he walked away from her, Charlotte stared after him, an odd feeling in her chest. She shook her head. It was just a name. It meant nothing and the Duke — no, Dominic — was right. They needed to convince everyone of the truth of their engagement.

"This is purely a practical decision. It means nothing," she murmured aloud.

Then why does it feel so dangerous?