Chapter 66 - Not Used To Rejection (1/2)
Charles Lancaster, the Duke of Orla, was not used to rejection. Everyone had been willing to lick his boots from a young age when he took over his father's old and prestigious title.
He worked hard to live up to others' expectations and was lauded as a prodigy among the nobility. So why? Why did the one thing he actually wanted have to be taken away by someone so useless?
The first time he saw Catherine du Pont he was intrigued by how she put her brother Edmund, one of the most ridiculous people he knew, in his place. His curiosity only grew when he saw her reading such advanced political texts in her father's library.
She was as sharp as she was beautiful. The perfect duchess—unlike his mother, who wasted her days on needlepoint and gossip.
The dukedom of Orla was barely beneath the archduke in terms of power and prestige. Yet Catherine had chosen a useless, forgotten prince with no political power of his own simply because he made her laugh.
He couldn't forget what she said that day in the back garden. How could such a beautiful mind be wasted on a buffoon!
Used to quelling any and all emotion because that was what dukes were meant to do, Charles was surprised by the rage that rose within him when he saw Catherine, beautiful and breathless with sparkling sapphire eyes, laughing with her idiot husband in the snow.
It was even worse when he put his arms around her right in front of him and she did not protest. She practically used Prince Alpheus as a shield and hurried away as quickly as possible to avoid him.
”Sigmund, something must be done about the third prince,” he declared resolutely as he returned to the office.
Charles came upon that hallway solely by chance after taking a walk to clear his head because he had been stuck in the palace for the duration of the storm and worried about the state of affairs back in the dukedom.
Court had closed for the season and he was meant to go back three days earlier. The walk hadn't worked. If anything, his head was more muddled than before.
”Why, what did he do?” Sigmund asked sharply, looking up from a pile of paperwork on his desk.
His hands balled into fists. ”I saw him and Princess Catherine in the hallway, coming back inside from the snow. Who in their right minds would go outside in this weather unless they were up to something?”
Sigmund's eyes narrowed and he set down his pen, clasping his hands together under his chin.
”That is suspicious…the other day I heard from some servants that they were spotted coming back inside soaking wet as well. They may be meeting with someone. Alpheus would never start something on his own so it must be Katie's doing. He is obnoxiously infatuated with her and lets her drag him around the castle—oh, sorry, Charles.”
He cut himself off when he noticed his friend's knuckles growing progressively whiter. Rising from his chair, he strode across the room and clapped a hand on Charles' shoulder.