Page 34 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke
Even now, the smokey scent of wood wafted about her head, and Thalia found herself unable to be rid of it, even with a few changes of clothing. Of course, a majority of her changing had been due to Charlotte’s choice in activity–horseback riding–as the younger Harding had bought a number of equestrian garbs for her to try on.
“I know you technically told me I could replace your dress, but this directly ties into your promise, so, it still makes us even!” Charlotte had then proudly proceeded to devour the last of her toast and jam before scurrying up to her room, no doubt to dress in her own riding attire. Thalia, meanwhile, managed a light sigh and savored whatever breakfast she could before Charlotte came thundering back downstairs.
It wasn’t as terrible as she was making it out to be, of course. The morning was fairly pleasant, if not a bit chilly, with dew still clinging to the low-cut lawn. Occasionally, Thalia could spot sunlight between the gray sheet of clouds, providing a touch of warmth to the somber atmosphere.
For a moment, she wished Charlotte had chosen painting instead. The scenery was really quite inspiring, stirring her into an artistic mood she hadn’t felt in quite some time. And the duke had to remain back at the estate for work matters, meaning there would have been a greater chance of them crossing paths if she’d remained behind.
Thalia paused, shaking her head furiously.Out with you, already!
“Oh, don’t worry, Thalia!” Charlotte reassured, arms wrapped around the neck of a familiar chestnut stallion. “I’ll be taking Wanderlust for our little jaunt. He gets absolutely green with envy if I ride anyone else.”
Thalia blinked, realizing she’d completely missed what Charlotte had been saying entirely. “Ah. Yes, that… comes as somewhat of a relief. I admit, it’s been some time since I’ve ridden, and… Wanderlust… seems quite the proud creature.”
“Oh, he’s just a big baby,” Charlotte insisted. “But, he would probably be a bit too much for you; he’s a bit too much for Gabriel sometimes, too.”
Thalia chuckled lightly, trying not to imagine such an undignified sight. “I must admit, that’s hard to believe.”
Charlotte simply grinned, glanced around the barn in search of the right steed. Her eyes immediately lit up as she pointed towards the stall across from hers. “Oh! Why don’t you take Forget-Me-Not? She’s a bit older, but has a much better temperament for… beginners, I suppose?”
Thalia laughed, mockingly crossing her arms with a huff. “I said it’s been a moment! I’m not entirely inept, you know.” Still, she crossed to greet the horse in question—a beautiful palomino, clear of any blemishes or markings along her body and face—and gave her a gentle approach with her hand. True to Charlotte’s word, the mare was quick to warm, nuzzling Thalia’s hand with a gentle snort.
“Perfect—she likes you already!” Charlotte beamed, already pulling Wanderlust out of his stall to set his saddle.
Thalia opted to let the stable hands help her, stepping to the side as she observed the fitting. Her conversation with the duke still buzzed around her head, and she couldn’t help but sigh in frustration. He seemed distant one moment, then desperate to close said distance the next. Cold, yet inviting; an absolute enigma of a man.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to try and wiggle your way out of our agreement?” Charlotte asked.
“Oh—no, nothing of the sort,” Thalia reassured.
“Then what on earth has you sighing in such a matter?” Charlotte tugged against the belt of her saddle, ensuring it sat firmly in place. “Miss Thalia Sutton, it is far too early and nice a morning to make such a forlorn noise.” She paused, moments away from grasping her reins, and turned to face Thalia with a gasp. “Wait—what did my brother do? He’s upset you somehow, hasn’t he?”
Thalia hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of her glove as she debated her next question carefully. “He… showed mePride and Prejudice.”
Charlotte blinked, clearly confused. But after a moment to reflect, the realization dawned across her face. “Oh.”
“Y-yes, I’m afraid so.” Thalia’s brow furrowed, the evening fully arranging itself clearly in her mind. “I don’t mean to pry, of course—your family business is your own—but the way he spoke of it seemed so… so…?”
“Wistful?”
Thalia nodded.
Charlotte slipped the reins over Wanderlust, coaxing him to bite the bit before straightening out the straps. Another beat passed between them, and she let out a heavy sigh of her own. “I don’t remember too much of Mother, honestly. Only what Gabriel says of her.” Her hand stroked the length of her stallion, her shoulders visibly stiffening. “Which doesn't always paint her in the kindest of lights.”
“You don’t have to…”
“It’s not exactly a big secret,” Charlotte insisted. “The whole ordeal, I mean. Lots of people know of it, but no one’s foolish enough to dredge up old gossip while Gabriel’s still alive.” She paused, hastily wiping her face as her back remained to Thalia. “Father went to defend mother’s honor, and he died because of it.”
“You don’t have to speak of it if it’s too much,” Thalia insisted.
Charlotte shook her head, but she remained turned away. “No, it’s just—it seems so stupid, whenever I think of it. I mean, Father said he’d do anything for Mother, but to throw your life away in some ridiculous show of masculinity—she didn’t even wait for his body to be cold in the ground, Thalia!
“Her ‘honor’ means far less than my Father’s life, and he so stupidly—if my future husband ever told me he were getting involved in a duel for my honor, I would think him to be the selfish one, protecting his own, fragile, misshapen–!”
Thalia quickly moved to Charlotte, her arms grasping around her in a tight hug. She heard a slight gasp of surprise, her body trembling horribly as she tried to catch her breath. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. That must have been a terrible thing to carry around.”
Charlotte suddenly turned, burying her head into Thalia’s chest. Her arms wrapped fiercely around Thalia’s waist, and though she continued shaking, Charlotte fought valiantly for a breath to speak with. “I d-don’t even really remember them all that much. But—but I could have, if F-Father hadn’t… if Mother wasn’t so…”
She paused, a fresh wave of tears slipping down her face. “Gabriel becomes terribly c-cross—well, crosser than usual—I think… this is the first time I have really… talked about it, though.”
