What the Duke Wants

Epilogue




“You’re beautiful! Miss Lottie!” Berty spun around her chambers, her dress sailing out like an umbrella. They had debated on what the girls should call her now, technically she wasn’t a ‘miss’ any longer, but old habits die hard, and well… it was quite nostalgic to hear their voices call her ‘Miss Lottie’ still. Though Charles had requested they used ‘your grace’ in front of company.

Which wasn’t often.

Thank goodness. It had been several weeks and she still couldn’t quite believe she was a duchess.

Duchess.

No matter how many times she repeated it, it never stuck. But she suspected it was because she didn’t actually care for the title, rather she simply cared for the man who gave it to her.

Charles.

“Are you ready yet, Love? There’s a fine line between fashionably late and simply late,” Charles teased as he made his way into the room. But before he could finish the teasing remark, he paused.

“Take it off.”

“What?” Carlotta blushed crimson and glanced to Berty, who had paused mid twirl with a very confused look on her face.

“You cannot wear that!” Charles’ gaze darkened, much like it did when alone with her… and she was well… taking it off.

“Charles!”

“Not—” He glanced to Berty quickly. “—like that.” He shook his head as if her coming to that conclusion was insane. “You… It… I’m a jealous man, Carlotta, and if one dandy so much as blinks in the direction of your… charms…” He coughed with a quick glance to Berty, who was watching with rapt attention. “Well, I’ll not be responsible for my actions,” he finished.

“But… this is what Lady Southridge picked for me to wear to our first ball.”

“Bloody hell, I should have guessed. That damn woman will kill me.”

“I think she looks like a fairy princess,” Berty added, helpfully.

“Berty.” Charles paused then walked gently to the little girl. Bending down he met her at eye level. “Carlotta is the most beautiful, most perfect princess in the world. Never once did I mean that she was not. Forgive my outburst, young lady. If you are so set on the dress, then she may wear it. Provided… she doesn’t leave my side and she wears a very large fur cape.”

“Large fur cape?” Carlotta asked with a daring raise of her eyebrow.

“Very, very large.”

“But then no one will see her dress!”

“Exactly.”

“You never use to be so stuffy,” she crossed her arms, narrowing her childlike gaze at him.

“I—” He closed his mouth. Narrowed his eyes and… then grinned.

“I suppose finding out I have a heart after all does that to a man,” he teased, tickling her nose with his finger.

Carlotta held her smile in check, she was so thankful for the deepening of the relationship between the girls and her husband. Being married had brought out a protective side she would have never assumed existed.

But exist it did, quite fiercely.

Heaven help the suitors who pursued the girls.

“Your grace.” Berty rolled her eyes, but grinned. “So she can wear the dress?”

“Yes. But if I injure a man. I’m blaming you.”

“Very well.” She shrugged and walked away, leaving them alone.

“So yes or no?” Carlotta pointed the dress, spinning slowly.

“Only if I get the honor of taking it off… and possibly mangling it so that you cannot wear it again,” he teased as he strode forward and kissed her favorite spot just at the base of her neck.

“We’ll be late.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yes you do.”

“No. I do not. Quit arguing with me.”

“I—”

“Miss Lottie!” Bethanny strode in, her face flushed and her eyes dancing.

“Yes?” Carlotta backed away from his embrace, cheeks flushing as well, but quite curious as to Bethanny’s expression.

“You have guest. Actually two guests, but Lady Southridge isn’t exactly a guest, she’s family.”


“Oh? Who is the other guest?” Carlotta asked before Charles could make a remark.

Bethanny blushed deeper, her eyes lowering for a moment. “Lord Graham, her brother. I’ve been informed that he’s just returned from Scotland.” She finished, but her tone was far more breathless at the end of her statement then at the beginning.

What if…

“We’ll see him immediately,” Carlotta nodded, her curiosity flaring.

“We will? Yes…”Charles cleared his throat.” We will.” He gave Carlotta a confused expression and then furrowed his brow as his gaze dipped lower, and then rose again a question in his eyes.

“Later,” she whispered, then followed Bethanny out.

Not for the first time, Carlotta took note of how Bethanny was growing up, growing into herself. Her long chestnut hair was heavy and curled just enough to make it a dream to work with. Her figure had filled out as well, and like a mother watching her baby chick try to fly, Carlotta felt her throat constrict at the idea that someday, possibly soon, she’d test her wings.

They arrived in the red parlor in their London home. The same parlor that had been filled, utterly filled with well wishers, and the insanely curious, ton upon their arrival not so long ago. The ball tonight was to introduce the Duchess Clairmont to the world.

Lord Graham was facing the window; looking very much like the first time she had met him. His sandy blond hair and green eyes were every bit as dangerous as Charles, but there was a teasing light to him, a lack of brooding that gave him a far less intimidating manner. His face lit up in a warming grin when he turned around upon their entrance.

“You devil! I didn’t think you’d actually take my advice!” Lord Graham teased, striding forward and shaking Charles’ hand.

“And you, Duchess Clairmont. A pleasure.” He bowed and lifted her hand to his lips, his eyes dancing with a teasing light.

Charles growled.

“Possessive, are we?”

“Yes. Very. Now back off, Graham. I’m in no mood.”

“I can see that… and here I thought marriage would have turned you into a p-ssy cat… or at least a lap dog.”

“Ha!” Carlotta laughed, covering her mouth with her glove too late.

Lord Graham cast an amused grin her way.

Carlotta took that moment to find Bethanny. Sure enough, she hadn’t left, but was watching Lord Graham with rapt attention, her eyes soft.

“Have you met Bethanny, my lord?” Carlotta asked.

“Yes, I believe I have, but not formally. Miss Bethanny, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Bethanny’s face blushed vermillion, her smile was beatific, her eyes took on a flirtatious glint Carlotta didn’t know she could do, and of course, at that moment Lady Southridge walked in.

But the two being introduced didn’t notice her.

Carlotta did… and saw the smile… the raised eyebrow and the overjoyed nod that accompanied her quick assessment of the situation.

Good Lord, here we go again.





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