Page 14 of The Duke’s Christmas Redemption

“Thank you, Your Grace.” She met his eyes steadily. “I hope you’ll find that I can be an adequate partner in all aspects of our life together.”

Something flickered in his grey eyes before his usual reserve reasserted itself. She rather thought that she’d surprised him again.

“The carriages will be ready shortly. We should begin our farewells.”

*****

The afternoon sun bathed London’s streets in warm light as their carriage pulled away from Alverton House. Charlotte’s father had maintained his composure during their goodbye, though she had seen the emotion that he tried to hide. Edmund had been less restrained, embracing her tightly before helping her into the carriage. It had taken every bit of strength she had to maintain her own composure.

Now, sitting opposite her new husband as they began the journey to Alverton Grange, Charlotte felt the full weight of the day’s changes settle over her. The pearls at her throat - her mother’s pearls - seemed to grow heavier with each passing mile.

William sat in apparent absorption with some papers from his correspondence case, though she occasionally felt his gaze touch her face when he thought that she wouldn’t notice. The silence stretched between them, filled with all of the things that neither of them knew how to say.

“I trust that you’ll find Alverton comfortable,” he said finally, looking up from his papers. “Mrs Walden will help you settle into your duties as mistress of the house.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Charlotte smoothed her skirts, choosing her next words carefully. “I look forward to learning everything necessary to support you and the estate properly.”

His eyes held hers for a moment longer than necessary.

“You may call me William, you know. When we’re private.”

The concession, small as it was, made her heart flutter unexpectedly.

“Thank you... William.” His name felt strange on her tongue, intimate in a way that made colour rise to her cheeks. “And you must call me Charlotte, of course.”

He nodded once, returning to his papers, but Charlotte thought that she saw his shoulders relax slightly. She wasn’t sure that she could relax, herself, yet. That would come, she hoped, when she reached her new home. At least all of her personal belongings, her clothes, her jewellery, such as it was, her books and small keepsakes, had already been sent ahead.

Familiar things might make her feel better, when everything else had changed – at least that was what she told herself while, outside, London’s buildings gave way to open countryside as they began their journey towards whatever future awaited them at Alverton Grange.