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“I have finished eating,” William said. “Have you?”

“So I have,” Lady Catherine replied.

Reeds cleared his throat. “I wish to speak to my sister first. This has all happened rather quickly.”

William considered declining the request, but the thought of his own sisters made him more inclined to mercy than he otherwise might have been. He offered the smallest nod of acknowledgement. “I shall wait in the gardens for my young bride.”

“For Lady Catherine,” Reeds said reproachfully. “She is not your brideyet.”

“Shewillbe. That is close enough.”

After offering a curt bow to Lady Catherine, William left the room and set a slow path to the gardens. Doubtless, the family would be arguing for some time. He hoped it would not take too long, though. Last night’s unexpected encounter with Lady Catherine burned strongly in his mind. He longed to be alone with her again, if only for a few moments.

William waited by the garden’s entrance and tried to decide if he was brazen enough to touch her. Would Lady Catherine be receptive to his advances? Or would she be appalled? Perhaps, all her boldness was merely a façade.

He knew some wayward misses like that. They were all fire and anger until presented with the unknown, and then, all their fire became extinguished in an instant. He hoped that she was not such a lady and that he had not been tricked into promising to wed such a boring bride.

At last, he heard the faint sound of slippers on the floor behind him. He turned his head and found Lady Catherine standing there, her lady’s maid a few steps behind. “You thought of a chaperone,” William said.

Adorable.

“Of course,” Lady Catherine said. “A proper lady must not be without one.”

“I was not under the impression that youwerea proper lady.”

William tilted his head in the direction of the gardens. He began walking along the well-maintained garden path. Sweeping grasses and cheerful flowers bloomed, as yet untouched by the faint autumn chill. If William listened very hard, he could hear Lady Catherine’s faint steps and the whispering of her gown as she walked beside him.

She seemed determined to put as much space as possible between the two of them. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that the same was not true of the insipid lady’s maid, who followed so closely that any illicit dalliance would be impossible.

They kept walking, and the more they did, the more Lady Catherine fidgeted. William hid a smile. She was as wild as the flowers around her, but with proper care, she could become a carefully cultivated rose.

Lady Catherine scoffed. “You insisted on this walk around the gardens, and you have nothing to say at all.”

He smirked. “This is your first lesson in manners, my lady. I expect my duchess to speak only when spoken to.”

Her face reddened until her cheeks rivalled the reddest of roses. Lady Catherine worked her jaw for a heartbeat, like she was trying to decide the best barb with which to wound him.

“We need to come to an understanding if I am to be your wife,” she said.

“I agree.”

“I am marrying you only to spare my sister this fate,” Lady Catherine said. “I do not intend to make this a pleasant arrangement. On the contrary, I intend to be so insufferable that you decide to abandon your search for a wife entirely. Then, it will beyourhonor that is besmirched, rather than mine or my sister’s.”

“I see,” William said. “And do you suppose that you will escape unscathed if I tell the tonthat you are a wild and aimless woman?”

“The tonalready knows that. They will believe that you are a foolish man who did not care to learn his wife’s character before marriage.”

“No. They will marvel at how I have made you a perfect duchess,” William said. “We spoke yesterday of Shakespeare. I am sure that you are familiar withThe Taming of the Shrew?”

“Not his best work.”

“A shrew would think so.”

“Are you frightened of ladies who have their own thoughts and desires?” Lady Catherine asked. “I will always be high-spirited, and I am not unshaped clay or some plaything that you can mold into what you want. I am not a pet or a pupil to be lectured.”

William said nothing. It was readily apparent that arguing with her was an exercise in futility. Instead, he merely gazed calmly at her, while Lady Catherine’s scowl deepened. That would vex her more than outright disagreement.

“You are infuriating!” she snapped. “Purposefully so!”