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‘I’ll see to it.’ Thornton paused at the door, and his demeanour turned serious. ‘I like your new wife, Alaric. She’s a good influence on you—you’ve been far too melancholy of late.’

‘I have responsibilities—’ he started to say, but Thornton cut him off.

‘Your most important responsibility right now is to her. You need an heir.’ His expression turned serious, and he added in a low voice, ‘It’s clear enough that you haven’t consummated this marriage yet.’

He didn’t like the direction of this conversation. ‘That’s none of your affair.’

‘Let go of the past, Alaric.’ There was a flicker of discontent on Thornton’s face, but he masked it. ‘Your future could be a good one with Charlotte.’ With a smirk, he teased, ‘Has anyone had The Talk with you? Do you know what to do? How to please a woman?’

‘Goodbye, Thorn.’ He gave his brother a light shove outside. It was snowing again, and the flakes quickly coated his brother’s dark hair. ‘You have quite a drive ahead of you.’

‘Indeed.’ He clapped Alaric on the shoulder. ‘Make certain you buy something special for Christmas for your wife. She deserves it for putting up with you.’

Alaric watched his brother depart and then returned to the drawing room where Charlotte stood beside the window watching the snow fall. Her face was pensive, and she pressed her hand to the glass. When he drew closer, she turned to him and offered a tentative smile.

‘Why did you really invite my brother to pay a call?’ he asked. ‘He lives some distance from here.’

‘Because I wanted to buy you a Christmas present that would be meaningful.’ Her voice was soft, almost gentle. ‘I wrote him a letter to ask for his help, and he came to tell me, in person, what you would want.’

He crossed the room to stand beside her. ‘Something I would want more than socks?’

‘Yes.’ She took his arm, and the slight touch unnerved him. Not because it was unwelcome, but quite the opposite. Instead, he considered pulling her closer.

The afternoon light was waning, but she stood beside him, watching the snow fall. He couldn’t deny that he found his wife beautiful. But he was starting to see the thoughtfulness within her. He had never imagined she would write to his brother or that she would already know how he took his tea. She looked after others, and it made him wonder how she would respond if he did the same for her.

Had anyone ever looked after her? Her parents had certainly kept her at a distance, which he still didn’t like.

She’d been so nervous the day he’d pulled her onto his lap. If he ever did kiss her, he suspected she would freeze up. She was wary of him, and he didn’t know how to bridge that distance. Or even if he should.

But he covered her hand with his as silence descended between them.

Chapter Five

Rule 5: There will be no public displays of affection.

It was Christmas Day, well before dawn. Charlotte hadn’t been able to sleep a moment longer, so she’d crept downstairs in her dressing gown. It was quiet in the household—for the first time in nearly three weeks. Although she was glad of the roof repairs, the incessant hammering had made it impossible for a moment’s peace. Right now, she wanted to sit by the window in the blessed quiet.

She tiptoed barefoot into the drawing room and set her candle down by the window. Outside, the snow fluttered down in icy flakes, covering the landscape in a blanket of white. It was serene in the early morning, and she glanced over at the pile of gifts she’d carefully wrapped for the family. She’d already given the servants’ gifts into the care of the housekeeper, Mrs Newton. Part of their gift was time off to share with their own families, with full wages, and she’d instructed Mrs Newton to send them food as well.

It was still hours before Christmas, but Charlotte eagerly awaited the morning festivities. It was the first time she’d ever had the chance to host a holiday and make plans of her own for the celebration. It had been far more fun than she’d imagined. Even now, she had filled her husband’s stocking with sweets and smaller gifts. She’d also filled Thornton’s stocking.

Her own was empty, but that didn’t matter. She hadn’t really expected anything, since no one had ever filled her stocking. It wasn’t something her family did, but she had wanted to start the tradition here.

Charlotte drew up her knees beneath her nightgown and leaned back against the settee, closing her eyes for a moment. Despite her attempts to sleep last night, she had been distracted and excited. She couldn’t help but feel like a young child, eagerly awaiting her husband’s response to the Christmas presents she’d bought. Thornton had sworn that the duke would be pleased by her gift, although it had taken some time to make the arrangements. Regardless of the way Thornton had teased him, it did seem that the marquess wanted his older brother’s happiness.

So did she. But more than that, she wanted to understand the duke better. No, Alaric, she corrected herself. She needed to get more accustomed to using his name when they were alone.

She ought to feel more comfortable with him now, after three weeks of marriage.

And yet it still felt as if she were married to a stranger. Ever since the day he’d pulled her onto his lap, Alaric had kept her at a physical distance.

She told herself that it didn’t matter. She had the garden of her dreams, a pleasant husband, and her life was exactly the way she’d anticipated it would be.

Why, then, did it feel as if something was missing?

Her cheeks flushed as she wondered whether it was their impending consummation of the marriage. Alaric hadn’t mentioned it in weeks. If they kept to their original timeline, the consummation would happen tonight or tomorrow. The very thought filled her with trepidation.

Maybe her husband had forgotten? The last thing she wanted was to remind him of it, although she knew her duty. Her maid Moreen had guessed the truth and had offered her sympathetic looks, but she’d refrained from saying anything. It made Charlotte feel as if she’d displeased the duke in some way.