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‘Thank you. I can…take a different coach if you’d rather I didn’t share yours.’

He didn’t miss the guarded hurt in her voice. ‘It doesn’t matter. If you want to travel with me, I’ll be leaving after breakfast in the morning. If you’d prefer to travel on your own, you may.’

‘I’ll have Moreen pack my belongings, then,’ she said. But as she turned to leave, it felt as if he’d somehow widened the distance between them.

He told himself it was what he’d wanted—a marriage that would remain a polite arrangement. There could be friendship and a strong physical relationship, he reasoned, but their emotional boundaries had to be maintained.

For he refused to let himself be weakened in the same way his father had.

Two days later

Charlotte was now realising that her decision to return to London with Alaric had been a mistake. At the time, she’d wanted to ensure she wasn’t left behind for another month—and it had also been a means of seeing her sister. She needed advice from Evelyn on how to navigate her marriage.

Everything had been so much easier before she had shared her husband’s bed, before she’d known what it meant to feel such fulfilment in Alaric’s arms.

Her heart ached with confusion. She’d mistakenly believed that consummating the marriage would be like any other duty. Her mother had never seemed to care much about it. Evelyn hadn’t, either.

Was there something wrong with her? Was she supposed to simply behave as if their intimacy hadn’t cracked apart the foundation of what she’d believed marriage was? How could Alaric simply behave as if marital duties meant nothing at all? He seemed to think they were a shared moment of pleasure that could simply be ignored after they were over.

But he hadn’t found release inside her since that first night. It was almost as if he wanted to avoid having children, which made no sense at all.

After she’d gone to her own bed, she’d lain awake for hours, wondering what it all meant and what she was supposed to do now. Already she suspected that her carefully laid boundaries were falling apart. The idea of existing in a marriage where her husband refused to love her—especially after she’d bared everything before him—seemed impossible.

And heartbreaking.

With every moment she spent at his side, she wanted more from him—and yet he was still abiding by their rules. Why had she ever imagined she could have an arranged marriage, remaining distant from Alaric and living the parallel life she’d promised? It wasn’t working at all. Instead, it was like having a delicious slice of cake within reach and not being able to take a single bite. She wanted far more than he’d promised—but she had no choice but to do everything possible to shore up the weaknesses of her heart.

Charlotte couldn’t let herself fall in love with him. She had to do whatever was necessary to prevent it from happening, even if it meant isolating herself from the duke. She’d deliberately chosen a bedchamber at the opposite end of the hallway, far away from his, in an effort to avoid him.

And while she was in London, she would pay a call upon her parents and her sister and remind herself of what her life had been like before. Maybe then she could shield herself from wanting more than she could have.

Evelyn had urged her to attend Lady Selwyn’s ball this evening. It was a good idea, even if others would expect the duke to attend with her. Charlotte knew how much he despised balls, so this was a reasonable way to spend time apart.

She was nearly dressed when Alaric knocked on her door, and he seemed surprised to see her in her crimson ballgown.

‘Are you going somewhere tonight?’ he asked.

Her maid handed her a pair of long white gloves, and Charlotte began putting them on. ‘My sister and I are attending Lady Selwyn’s ball.’

The sudden reaction in him was so swift, it startled her, before he masked it. ‘Absolutely not.’

She exchanged a look with Moreen and quietly dismissed her maid. After the door closed behind her, Charlotte reassured him, ‘You needn’t worry. I will simply attend on your behalf, as we agreed. You don’t have to go.’

‘You’re not going there alone.’ His voice was clipped as he added, ‘You should have told me about this, Charlotte.’

‘I am attending with my sister, not alone,’ she pointed out. ‘And besides, I did try to tell you. Lady Selwyn’s invitation came a few days ago when I was going through your father’s letters. I tried to give it to you then, but if you remember, you ordered me out of the study.’

He stared at her for a time and then ran a hand through his dark hair. ‘Give me a quarter of an hour to get ready, and do not leave without me. We’re going together.’

Now, that was certainly a strong response, one she hadn’t anticipated.

‘I thought you hated balls. Rule 2, isn’t it?’ She adjusted her gloves and saw that he was quickly changing his clothing behind her. She caught a very nice glimpse of his muscular chest before he pulled on a clean shirt. He didn’t answer but began searching for a cravat.

‘Shall I ring for your valet?’

‘I can dress myself. You may ring for the carriage, if you wish.’

She’d never seen him in such a hurry. Why was he insisting on attending this ball with her? It made no sense.