Page 101 of Duke of Sapphire

“And yet?” Lavinia prompted.

Charlotte looked toward the field. Henry and Tristan were near the edge of the blanket, discussing something, while the boys darted about with the kind of energy that made her palms itch with concern. Ian had found a stick and was waving it as if it were a sword. James followed, chanting some nonsense about dragons.

“And yet he does things,” Charlotte said quietly. “Small things. He keeps Ian’s favorite biscuits in his study and pretends not to know how they appear. He brings me accounts to look at. He listened to me about the northern venture. He stood between me and my father until the Earl could not take a single step toward me.” She paused. “He wrapped my ankle when I was foolish near that coaching inn.”

Sophia’s eyes widened. “He wrapped your ankle himself? Not the footman?”

“Yes.” Charlotte looked down at the blanket.

His hands were steady. He did not scold when he touched me. He only muttered about my inability to follow instructions.

“That is not a small thing,” Lavinia said. “That is care. Henry expresses himself poorly with words. He has always done so. You may have noticed.”

“I have,” Charlotte said. “He claims he experiences nothing. Then he looks at Ian when the boy laughs and it is all over his face.”

Lavinia smiled. “Then believe his actions. Look for his heart there. Men like Henry hide it behind ledgers and schedules. They forget that they are seen.”

Charlotte toyed with the fringe of the rug.

Look for his heart within his actions. He asked me to marry him like a business proposition. Then he kissed my hand at the altar as if it mattered more than he wished to admit. He told my father no one would take me from Sappherton. He does not treat that as a contract. He treats it as truth.

“It is difficult,” she said. “To know what is real and what is duty.”

“Duty can be real,” Lavinia replied. “But it is different from affection. Affection rearranges everything. It makes a man leave his papers to sit on the grass and watch his wife talk.”

Charlotte glanced toward Henry. He was standing now, arms folded, as Tristan gestured toward the stream. She found his profile. He was not looking at the food. He was looking at her.

Her breath caught.

There it is again. The way his gaze finds me, as if he is checking that I have not vanished.

“He watches you,” Lavinia said, very mildly.

Charlotte’s cheeks warmed. “It is not as it appears.”

“Is it not?” Lavinia raised one dark eyebrow. “Your actions and your husband’s would suggest otherwise, my dear.”

“Then perhaps I should ask him why he watches me.”

Lavinia touched her hand. “You may not need to ask. Just listen when he forgets to guard himself. It happens more often than he thinks.”

A shout interrupted them. “Charlotte! Come play!”

Ian was sprinting toward them, wooden sword held high. James trailed after, clutching a leather ball nearly as large as his head.

Lavinia sighed. “Here we are. Drafted into battle again.”

“What is it this time?” Charlotte called as Ian skidded to a halt near the blanket.

“We’re playin’ ‘Squads and Sentinels’,” Ian announced. “Tam taught me. Ye stand in a circle and pass the ball, and if ye drop it, ye’re taken prisoner by the enemy.”

“That sounds entirely unreasonable,” Tristan said, arriving with Henry at his shoulder.

“It sounds delightful,” Sophia said, already rising.

James flung the ball down and clapped. “Prisoners!”

“We shall keep the rules modest,” Lavinia said. “I am not being dragged to any imaginary gaols.”