Charming Artemis, page 6
He breathed and rolled his shoulders. “I know this has been Philip’s domain for more than a decade, but this room always makes me think of Father.”
“I feel the same,” Mater said. “Philip has instituted very few changes in this space. Perhaps it reminds him of your father also.”
“I wish Father were here.” Charlie leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I always wish that, but right now . . . ” He swallowed.
Mater rubbed his back in long, slow circles. She used to do that when he was tiny and overwhelmed by emotions he’d been too young to sort through. “I cannot guarantee to know precisely what your father would tell you in this situation, but I can tell you a little of his experiences in this area.”
Charlie closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe.
“Our parents arranged, agreed upon, and announced our betrothal without our input, approval, or knowledge. We started on a very similar footing to what you are anticipating.”
It was not the same though. “You two didn’t choose each other, but you also didn’t despise each other. That is not an insignificant difference.”
“I know you and Miss Lancaster do not get along and do not particularly like each other, but I think if you ponder it honestly, you will have to admit you don’t actually despise her.”
He wanted to insist he did, wanted to list all the reasons he was justified in utterly despising her. This latest debacle only added to the feeling. No one could possibly blame him for it. And yet, despise did feel like too harsh a word.
Another breath didn’t ease any of his tension.
“I will not discount how distressing your situation is at the moment,” Mater said. “And though you might not be ready to admit it, I am certain you are a little afraid. But take comfort from one who faced that same worry: there is hope, my sweet Charlie. Do not give up. There is hope.”
He wanted to believe it. “What if in the end, we simply dislike each other more? What if everything proves even worse than I fear it will?”
“But, darling, what if it doesn’t?”
He straightened his posture a little and looked over at her. “You’ll still love me either way?”
Mater put her arms around him and leaned against him. “I have loved you all your life, my boy. And I will love you always. No matter what.”
Her love had been the sure foundation in his life for so long. When he’d struggled to find his place in the world and in his family, she had loved him. When he’d gotten himself into one bit of unintentional mischief after another, she had loved him. When his memories of his father had dimmed with the passing of years, leaving that gentleman as little more than a vague idea in the recesses of his childhood, when he’d found himself wondering if his father had loved him as much as his brothers were sure he had loved them, Mater’s love had given him reassurance.
When he had needed her most, she had not neglected him. He knew she would not do so now.
“I’m struggling not to feel defeated, Mater.”
“You mustn’t give up before you’ve even begun,” she said. “Promise me you will try.”
It was a request he did not take lightly. He knew he had been a disappointment in many ways, but he had never broken his word to his mother. He didn’t mean to do so now. “I will do my best,” he promised her. “I only hope it will be enough.”
Chapter Seven
Charlie had been present for his brothers’ weddings. Those had been inarguably happy occasions. But the feeling in Grosvenor Chapel the morning he was to be married was more that of a funeral than a wedding.
I promised Mater I would try. He had repeated that reminder to himself countless times over the past few days. He’d promised to try, and he would not break a vow to his mother.
He did his best to appear happy and at ease while waiting in the chapel for Artemis to join him. Nearly all her siblings and siblings-in-law were there. Her group of close friends, the Huntresses, were as well. They were, to a one, glaring him into the grave.
His family was relatively well represented as well. Philip and Sorrel were in attendance, along with Layton and Corbin and Jason and his wife, Mariposa. Crispin, Lord Cavratt, who was an honorary member of the family, and his wife were present as well. Mater sat in the midst of them all. Harold stood at the altar. The vicar of Grosvenor Chapel was a friend of his and had given him permission to officiate at the wedding. Toss and Newton were there also, along with Sorrel’s brother, Fennel, who was a newer addition to their close-knit group of friends. It was hardly a grand and elaborate wedding with an extensive and impressive guest list. But both he and Artemis had supporters there. Considering the circumstances, that was as good as could be hoped for.
Artemis arrived at last, in the company of the Duke of Kielder. Her father had passed away some years earlier, and her brother-in-law acted in the role of guardian. In this moment, he would take the place of her father.
She and the duke stopped directly beside him. This was the point where a father traditionally “gave” his daughter to her new husband.
I promised Mater I would try. Though his heart was sinking, Charlie was determined to make the best of the situation.
He met His Grace’s gaze, fully expecting the fearsome anger the duke was so infamous for. He saw sternness and immovability, yes, but he also saw a surprising amount of empathy and more than a bit of sadness. Sadness for their forced union? Or sadness at “losing” his sister-in-law?
The duke nodded, then stepped back, leaving an awkward and ill-matched couple to face their forced fate alone.
Try.
One thing Charlie could say for his soon-to-be wife: she was gorgeous. He had, of course, noticed that from the very first moment he’d met her. One could not help but notice. But their animosity had grown so quickly and become so enormous that it had hardly seemed worth mentioning. It was something he could say in the moment that wasn’t a complaint or a prediction of doom.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
She could hardly have looked more surprised. “Thank you.” Artemis didn’t appear necessarily more at ease, but at least she didn’t seem more unhappy. “You look very nice yourself.”
“Philip’s valet, Wilson, insisted I not arrive in the raspberry-stained clothes that put us here.”
She nodded. “That was wise. And the waistcoat he chose is both bang-up and appropriate to the occasion.”
“Wilson can always be relied upon.”
It was, quite possibly, the most cordial conversation they’d ever had.
“If you two are ready,” Harold said.
“Patience, vicar,” Charlie said. “We’re discussing fashion.”
“Pardon me,” Harold said with an overblown air of apology.
Artemis actually smiled, something Charlie had not at all expected to see from her on such a difficult occasion. “Somehow the oddity of this is very fitting.”
“Absurdity seems to be the theme of the day, doesn’t it?”
She laughed lightly, pulling an answering chuckle from Charlie. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Mater. She watched him with a look of approval.
Try. Her advice was proving sound.
* * *
Philip had been calling His Grace “Brother Adam” through the entirety of the wedding breakfast. The odds of the Dangerous Duke murdering Charlie’s oldest brother were growing by the minute.
Artemis had retreated to a guest chamber, along with her sisters, to change for the wedding journey. They were to leave London that day to begin their trek to Cumberland. Many couples did not embark on the very day of the ceremony, but leaving Town and the whispers residing there had been deemed necessary to thwart the increasingly vicious gossip surrounding the two of them.
“I thought we would not be family until our children inevitably married one another,” Philip said to the duke, using that tone the brothers all referred to as his buffoonery voice. Did His Grace know this was a jest? “Our siblings managed the thing years ahead of schedule, Broth—”
“If you call me that one more time, we will all have to return to the chapel for a funeral.”
Philip pressed a dramatic hand to his heart. “Shocking!”
The duke’s mouth pulled tight. He turned his attention to Charlie. “A moment of your time.” It was absolutely not a request.
Charlie followed him from the drawing room and into the small adjacent sitting room, where they were alone.
“First,” the duke said, “you will discover that all of my brothers-in-law call me Adam.” His expression was stern, without a hint of familial welcome. “You, however, have not earned that right.”
“I understand,” Charlie said.
“Second,” His Grace continued, “life has been vastly unfair to your new bride. Do not add yourself to the list of reasons why.”
“You’re asking me not to mistreat her?”
He skewered Charlie with a look one generally didn’t see outside of swordfights and pugilistic bouts. “I am warning you not to.”
Lud, the man was terrifying. All Charlie could do was nod in silent agreement.
“Artemis will drive you absolutely mad with frustration. She will push you away and throw up walls and hide behind her air of superiority”—this was not terribly encouraging—“but that show of arrogance and her dependence on theatrics is a shield not a window.” He paused. Nothing in his expression indicated what he was thinking. When he spoke again, he was quieter. “She has lived with me since she was very young and, in that time, has never once been fully trusting of me. Her walls crumble for no one. She is independent, at times to a fault. That does not seem likely to change.”
In other words, he was going to be as unneeded and unnecessary in his own marriage as he had been in his family growing up. Fitting. Discouraging, disheartening, yes, but fitting.
“And yet, with all that,” the duke said, “do not ill-treat her, no matter the provocation. She deserves better than life has offered her thus far. Don’t hurt her further. Don’t add to that pain.”
“I do not intend to, Your Grace.”
“I have faith in you beyond what you have shown yourself to deserve,” His Grace said. “But I do believe you can live up to that unearned trust, in part because I live less than a day’s journey from where you will reside. I could arrive at your doorstep at any moment, unannounced.” The duke’s gaze had hardened once more, his tone icy. “And I have no qualms about inflicting punishments as I see fit without the slightest worry about repercussions.”
Charlie nodded once more.
“Now”—the duke pointed to the doorway—“go wait for your bride. Do not make her wonder if you’ve turned tail and run.”
Charlie deposited himself in the vestibule, waiting for Artemis to descend the stairs. While he stood watch, his family filed past.
Layton came first. “Don’t let her catch you out pretending to be listening to her whilst your mind is actually wandering,” he said. “Better yet, don’t pretend to be listening in the first place. She will always catch you when you do.”
Spoken as if from experience.
Corbin stepped up next. “Be—be kind to her.”
Charlie nodded. That was actually good advice, a shocking thing from any of his brothers. And it was an entire sentence, a rare thing from Corbin.
Jason approached, his wife at his side. “Abandon logic, ye who enter here. Logic has no place in marriage.”
Mariposa swatted at her husband. “You are terrible.” She looked to Charlie. “Don’t listen to him.”
“I never do.” He earned a smile for that rejoinder.
Harold was next in line.
“If you quote scripture at me, I will swear,” Charlie warned. Had he said such a thing to his very church-minded brother a year earlier, he likely would have been lectured about propriety. Harold had softened since his now-wife had become part of his life.
“I was going to remind you that murder is frowned upon. It is one of the significant ten, you’ll remember.”
“I don’t plan to murder her,” Charlie said.
“Yet,” Harold tossed back as he gave way to the next in the farewell procession: Toss.
“Do you have advice for me too?” Charlie asked.
“What advice could I possibly have?” Toss scoffed at the very idea. As always, he couldn’t hold entirely still. No one had the pent-up energy Toss did. “I’m not married. I’ve never even courted anyone.”
“You’re not in one place long enough for courtship,” Charlie said.
“A great deal of truth in that.” Toss slapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck to you, my friend. Try not to die.”
“Lovely.”
Sorrel and Philip, a child in each of Philip’s arms, approached next.
“I’m assuming you mean to share words of questionable wisdom,” Charlie said dryly.
“Of course,” Philip said. “But Sorrel told me to keep my toast trap firmly shut. ‘Toast trap.’” Philip scoffed and shook his head. “Could she not have chosen veal vestibule or pudding pocket, some food with a degree of refinement?”
“There is nothing refined about a pudding pocket,” Sorrel said, shaking her head minutely.
Philip’s expression turned rather hilariously pompous. “My dear, a pudding pocket is only as elegant as the one who possesses it.”
Sorrel eyed him with a hint of misgiving. “We are speaking of your mouth, aren’t we? I certainly hope you don’t actually have pudding in any of your pockets.”
“And risk the wrath of Wilson?” Philip shook his head firmly. “He would murder me.”
Sorrel turned to Charlie. Though she put on a brave face, she did not at all keep her pain hidden. Her already shattered body had not recovered well from the birth of her children. After such a demanding day and despite the hour not being late at all, she likely needed to lie down.
“Come visit us as often as you can,” she said. “Not for Philip’s sake—he and his pudding-filled pockets don’t deserve visitors—but for the children. They will miss you.”
Sorrel liked to give Philip a difficult time. One look at his grin whenever she executed a verbal jab testified to his enjoyment of their banter.
“I am half tempted to take the children with me.” Charlie took Julia’s tiny hand in his and chucked Kendrick under the chin. “But to quote my pudding-pocketed brother, Wilson would murder me. And the twins need their mother. And grandmother. And Layton and Marion and their children. And they might even miss Philip.”
His oldest brother pretended to be offended. “After a comment like that, I will not do you the favor of remaining here to see you off on your journey. I will take my children and my wife and trudge off.”
Charlie knew perfectly well that Philip was taking his family away in order to allow Sorrel to rest. He loved her too much to see her continue to suffer but also didn’t wish to embarrass her by revealing to everyone within earshot that she was too weak to continue standing.
A moment later, Mater stood at Charlie’s side in the otherwise empty vestibule. She set her arm around him. “I was proud of you today, Charlie. You managed to make your bride smile in a moment when she must have been terrified. Your father had a knack for that too.” One could not mistake the hint of tears in her voice. “Be patient with her. Treat her with compassion.”
“The duke gave me the same orders.” Charlie hugged his mother in return. “He spoke kindly, something I suspect he almost never does.”
“He has a more tender heart than he lets on,” Mater said.
“And how do you know that?”
She looked up at him. “Have you not yet realized, my sweet Charlie? I know everything.”
He allowed a silent laugh. “I wish I were going back to Lampton Park with you instead of dragging my miserable wife to Brier Hill.”
Mater patted his cheek. “Have faith, my boy. The two of you will find your way.”
Artemis appeared at the top of the stairs in a carriage dress of deep green. It made her eyes even more emerald.
Mater slipped her arm away from him but took his hand in hers. “She is, without question, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. It is almost shocking.”
“The first time I saw her at your house party two years ago, I couldn’t even speak to her,” Charlie said. “I’d never met anyone so beautiful and poised and confident. I was overwhelmed.”
“What changed that?” Mater asked.
“She spoke to me and broke the spell.”
Mater squeezed his hand. “You discovered she was human?”
“I discovered she was a pest.”
Mater bit back a grin. “Charlie.” Her scolding tone fell a little short of the mark.
He laughed lightly. “I am trying, I promise. I’m simply not always successful.”
“So long as you keep making the attempt.”
Artemis was there with him only a moment later. “I suppose we had best be on our way.”
He nodded and motioned her toward the door. The carriage would be waiting for them. She offered a few breezy farewells to her family and floated out. He knew she did not feel as light as she pretended to be. She had often shown herself to be a good actress. He didn’t even know the true Artemis.
Mater hugged him fiercely. He called on the emotional tourniquet he’d learned to utilize during his Eton days when leaving his mother and home had left him teary. The teasing and prodding had been unbearable, so he’d found a way to keep it all at bay.
“Come visit the Park,” she instructed, still holding fast to him. “You know you are always more than welcome.”
