Page 23 of A Duchess Disciplined (Dukes of Dominance #1)
CHAPTER 22
C atherine was determined to prove that she could be the duchess William wanted, although she was uncertain that he had given her much of a reason for why she ought to be. If she was not the perfect duchess, he would correct her behavior, but Catherine had grown to find that experience inappropriately pleasant.
As she lighted from the coach, she was aware of William’s eyes on her. Her buttocks still tingled faintly from his attentions the day before, and the sensation made her feel delightfully daring.
Lady Beckingworth’s gardens were large and extravagant, boasting a wide variety of colored flowers and sweeping grasses that partially covered the stone path that wove through the gardens. The lady herself was a woman well into middle age. She was quite plump and clad in a blossom-pink gown that did not quite suit her form, but she seemed happy with herself. Her smiles were infectious, and when Lady Beckingworth’s green eyes landed on Catherine, a warm feeling swept over her.
“Oh! This is the lovely duchess!” Lady Beckingworth exclaimed. “You are so beautiful, Your Grace!”
William nodded curtly. “Yes, she is the Duke of Reeds’s sister.”
“I know him well,” Lady Beckingworth said, “as well as his predecessor. God rest his soul.”
Catherine curtsied politely. “Regrettably, my brother has never spoken of you. I can scarcely believe why he would wish to hide such a delightful lady from me! What was he thinking?”
Lady Beckingworth laughed. “Who knows? I find that men are regrettably forgetful when it comes to introducing ladies to one another. Perhaps, they fear we shall become too powerful if we form alliances.”
Catherine shot a swift look towards William, who watched her with a sharp intensity. He seemed to anticipate her failing this interaction somehow. For the first time, Catherine felt herself soften a little at the sight of his concern. She had spent much of her admittedly short marriage being frustrated with William’s refusal to recognize that she was strong and independent and did not need a man to tell her how to be a proper duchess.
Seeing him look so obviously concerned made her realize that he cared deeply about appearances. She was unsure precisely why, but she sensed that it was not merely wanting to meet the usual expectations of the ton that drove him. There was something more to his motivations. This was important to him, so she would be perfect. For him.
“I am certain that is the case,” Catherine said, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It will displease His Grace deeply, but I would be honored if you would introduce me to some of your female acquaintances. We might forge more alliances, all the better to vex my dear husband.”
Lady Beckingworth laughed behind her fan. She snapped it closed and looked at Catherine with eyes that glittered with mirth. “Oh, I like you,” she said. “I think we will get along famously. Your Grace, might I borrow your lovely wife and introduce her to my ladies?”
William chuckled. If one did not know him well, Catherine suspected he would have appeared confident and composed, but she caught the minute twitch of his jaw. He wanted to protest.
“It would be nice to meet some of the ladies in the country,” Catherine said, looking aside at her husband. “Regrettably, we do not have many acquaintances in common, my lord.”
“That is true,” William said, gesturing for the ladies to go ahead. “Please, enjoy yourselves.”
“Follow me,” Lady Beckingworth said.
Catherine readily fell into step beside the lady, as they made slow progress through the garden. Dimly, Catherine was aware of William coming behind them. She resisted the urge to turn around and cast a glance at his expression. A duchess was supposed to be composed. She had learned that lesson well.
“It is unfortunate that I was unable to attend your wedding,” Lady Beckingworth said. “I am certain that it was a lovely ceremony.”
“It was very small and intimate,” Catherine said, ensuring that her tone was just the right amount of apologetic. “We wished to marry with all haste, so a larger ceremony was impossible.”
“I see,” Lady Beckingworth replied. “I must say that I am surprised to hear that His Grace wanted to marry so quickly.”
“Oh?”
Lady Beckingworth’s eyes darted about, and a mischievous expression crossed her face. “I do not wish for you to be offended,” she said quietly, “but I had thought that your husband would never wed.”
“I am surprised to hear that,” Catherine said.
“Indeed,” Lady Beckingworth said. “Some of the ladies had wagers about when or if he might wed.”
Catherine grinned. “I see. Did you win anything?”
“Regrettably, no. Ah—Mrs. Abernathy!” Lady Beckingworth exclaimed. “Please, come and meet Her Grace, the Duchess of Sarsen.”
An elegant woman with red hair twisted into a sleek chignon said a few parting words with her male companion before approaching Catherine and Lady Beckingworth. Mrs. Abernathy wore a pale green gown that glittered with tiny crystal beads, crafted into fanciful swirls and flowers. “A pleasure, Your Grace,” Mrs. Abernathy said, curtseying.
“Mrs. Abernathby is a close friend of the family,” Lady Beckingworth said. “She leads our little group of bluestockings when we are in the countryside. We meet monthly to discuss what books we are reading.”
“Bluestockings!” Catherine exclaimed. “How delightful! What manner of books do you read?”
“All manner of them,” Mrs. Abernathy said. “I am partial to Miss Radcliffe’s works myself, but my betrothed favors Greek and Latin texts. I will confess that he is slowly winning me to his side, so my reading has been remarkably varied of late.”
“Can you read Greek and Latin?” Catherine asked.
Mrs. Abernathy shook her head. “Of course not,” she replied, gesturing to her companion, who seemed involved in an in-depth conversation with another gentleman. “My betrothed is very scholarly minded, so he translates the texts for me.”
“I find the notion to be very romantic,” Lady Beckingworth said.
“Yes,” Mrs. Abernathy said, sighing happily. “He is quite different from my late husband.”
Catherine noted that Mrs. Abernathy did not sound particularly upset about her late husband’s death. She wondered if Mrs. Abernathy had married first for the advantage, second for the love-match. That was the strategic way for a lady to wed.
“Ah, I should have asked. How is marriage suiting you, Your Grace?” Lady Beckingworth asked, shooting a sly glance toward William.
Catherine’s husband had found his own acquaintances. He and a few other lords stood some small distance away, conversing together beneath a tree. Even though William was being regaled by an enthusiastic, dark-haired companion, Catherine sensed that his eyes remained on her.
How did marriage suit her? Catherine could not honestly say. It was complicated. She did not dislike it. Even though her husband still remained a stranger in many ways, there were certainly some enjoyable aspects of matrimony. If Catherine had not resolved to be the perfect duchess, she might have been able to find some subtle way of asking the ladies if they also found such pursuits to be pleasurable.
“I think it suits me well,” Catherine said. “His Grace and I complement one another well, and I love the girls.”
“That is wonderful,” Mrs. Abernathy said, her face soft. “The young ladies have been too long without a feminine presence in their lives.”
“Indeed,” Lady Beckingworth said.
“My betrothed appears impatient,” Mrs. Abernathy said fondly. “He keeps casting glances towards us. Shall I invite him to join us?”
“I think you ought to let the poor man suffer for a little longer,” Lady Beckingworth said, grinning.
Catherine chuckled. “How unkind!”
“A man ought to learn patience,” Lady Beckingworth said, clearly amused. “Shall I introduce you to more of my friends, Your Grace?”
“That would be lovely.”
Catherine braced herself for all the encounters. She had performed well thus far, and it was the thought of performance which Catherine used to keep her strong. She would just pretend that she was an actress playing a role in a French theater. During the garden party, she would be playing the role of the perfect duchess, and once the party was at an end, she would be herself once again.
Lady Beckingworth was a gracious hostess who introduced Catherine to a dizzying array of lords and ladies. Catherine made certain to smile at them all. She complimented the ladies’ gowns and feigned interest when the lords briefly recounted their favorite diversions. After what felt like an eternity of introductions, she joined William once more at the white pavilion, which had been pitched in the center of the gardens.
“You seem to be gathering a whole host of admirers,” William said, seating himself beside her.
They were at a large table, laden with food and drink. Catherine had already eaten a few delicate pastries and now sipped a glass of lemonade, as she surveyed the gardens and listened to the idle talk of the lords and ladies around her.
A light breeze blew, sending the fronds of a weeping willow sweeping across the path; the fronds were near enough that Catherine could have reached out and touched them. Her mind conjured a delightful image of weaving beneath the sweeping fronds of the willow tree and pressing herself against the trunk, while William seized her hips and pulled her close.
“You seem to have already gathered admirers of your own,” Catherine said. “I am working quite hard to find as many as you have.”
“You appear to be succeeding,” William said, eyes narrowing. “I wonder if I ought to be concerned, given your talk of alliances with Lady Beckingworth.”
“If you are concerned, it is a mess of your own making,” Catherine replied, taking a dainty sip of her lemonade. “You were the one who invited me to the garden party. If you had not, I might never have made Lady Beckingworth’s acquaintance.”
“It would have appeared strange if I did not arrive with my wife,” William said, “especially being a newlywed man.”
“True.” Catherine glanced about to see if anyone might be eavesdropping on them, but there was no evidence to the contrary. “Are you pleased? I think I am doing quite well.”
“I do not think it befits a duchess to brag about how great she is doing,” William said, his lips twitching in amusement. “But you have performed very admirably. I am proud of you.”
Catherine’s face warmed with pleasure. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“You are very welcome. The praise is well-earned.” William paused and seemed to deliberate on something for a few moments. Then, he pressed his lips close to her ear. “I will be certain to reward you handsomely for your good behavior.”
She shivered instinctively at the promise of a future amorous encounter. Catherine had, thus far, only seen his corrections. What might it be like to be rewarded by him?
Catherine let out a low breath of air. “I shall be ensure that you keep your word. If you do not, I shall never forgive you.”
His eyes crinkled in amusement. “And I shall keep you to your word. If you continue to do this well, you have no need to fear.”
“There is our new friend!” exclaimed Lady Beckingworth, gesturing to Catherine.
Catherine smiled. “I will keep my word,” she said, climbing to her feet and waving to Lady Beckingworth. “Join us!”
Lady Beckingworth spoke to yet another lady, and they both crossed the path to join Catherine and William. Catherine straightened her spine and composed herself. She pretended that she was marble, smiling and unmovable.
It was time to play the role of the perfect duchess once again.