Page 130 of Unmasking the Diamond
Charlotte rose earlier than she ever had before—far earlier than was proper for a lady on her wedding day. But sleep had been impossible. Not even the melody of birds chirping merrily outside her window could soothe the flutter of nerves in her chest. No, her mind had been far too full—of Luca, of vows, of everything that was to come.
She pressed a trembling hand to her middle as she descended the staircase.He loves me. He truly loves me.It still astonished her. Luca Dexter—stubborn, infuriating, wonderful Luca—had gone down on one knee and asked her,again, to be his wife. And this time, she had been ready to say yes with her whole heart.
Her booted steps carried her into the dining room, where Alistair sat at the head of the table, reading the newssheets. The familiar rustle of paper filled the air, and the comforting scent of chocolate and toast greeted her.
When he noticed her, he made to rise, but she waved him back down with a smile. “Good morning, Brother.”
He glanced towards the long clock in the corner. “Do you realize what hour it is?”
“I do,” she replied. “But I found I could not sleep. And I must eat before we depart for the chapel.”
“That you must,” Alistair said, folding the newssheets. “I have discovered something rather interesting in the newssheets. It appears that Mr. Fairchild now writes forThe London Gazette.”
“It is true.”
He lifted his brow. “I thought you wished to pursue more serious subjects?”
“I do,” she said, reaching for her cup of chocolate. “But I intend to write those under my own name.”
“Are you sure that is wise?”
She met his gaze. “Yes. Luca supports the idea,” she replied. “Besides, I am rather done with hiding who I am.”
Alistair set the newssheets aside and studied her. “I cannot believe I was so blind to it all—your secret writings, your investigations—happening under my own roof.”
“Do not fault yourself,” she said. “I am quite talented at keeping secrets.”
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I simply wish you had told me sooner.”
Charlotte felt a pinch of guilt, but she managed a small smile. “I know. And I am truly sorry.”
“You need not apologize again.” His voice gentled. “I want you to know, Charlotte, that I am proud of you. Of all you’ve accomplished.”
Her throat tightened, and tears welled unbidden. “Thank you, Alistair.”
He reached across the table and took her hand. “You deserve to be happy.”
“I am,” she replied. “It is rather freeing, not pretending anymore.”
A grin curved his mouth. “Happiness suits you.”
Before she could reply, Malone entered the room and announced, “Lord Luca, my lord. Miss.”
Charlotte’s heart gave a flutter as Luca appeared in the doorway, sunlight glinting off his dark hair. He crossed the room in that confident stride of his and bent to kiss her cheek. “Good morning, my love.”
She beamed up at him. “Not that I am complaining, but why are you here? I thought we were meeting at the chapel in an hour.”
“I found I could not wait to see you,” he confessed, pulling out the chair beside her. “Besides, I hoped to be the one to escort you there.”
Alistair lowered his cup with an unimpressed look. “Is that truly necessary?”
“Perhaps not,” Luca said easily, “but I find myself quite anxious to marry your sister.” He added a playful wink in Charlotte’s direction.
Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek to hide her grin and returned to her breakfast, though she hardly tasted a bite. She was far too anxious to get married.
Luca leaned forward conspiratorially. “I did come bearing news. Rather interesting news, in fact.”
Setting down her fork and knife, Charlotte gave him her full attention. “You have piqued my curiosity.”
