Page 27 of A Virgin for the Ton’s Wolf (Ton’s Wolves #4)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
S carlett turned her face towards the sunlight with a soft smile, letting the warmth wash over her face. It felt good to be out after days upon days of debating over every single detail of the wedding. In the end, she had let her mama and the Dowager Duchess sort everything out by themselves—a task that both women only seemed too happy to undertake.
“Your Grace.”
She frowned and looked around her. There was no one in the gardens but her, Snowdrop… and the butler.
The man smiled again. “Your Grace,” he repeated. “Might I suggest getting used to your title?”
She laughed a little. “I am still Lady Scarlett Clarke.”
“Not for long.” His eyes twinkled.
No, not for another sixteen hours, at least. Two-thirds of a whole day, and then she would be the Duchess of Wolverton. Hudson’s wife.
“The wedding preparations were getting a little too much,” she admitted. “I thought I might have a bit of fresh air before…”
“Before everything gets too overwhelming?” he supplied.
She nodded. “There is so much to take in.”
“I would not worry so much, Your Grace,” the butler told her. “I think you would do exceedingly well. In fact…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I daresay that the entire estate has been waiting for you all this time.”
Scarlett laughed. Truly, the man had a glib tongue, in addition to his remarkable efficiency.
“Well, do not let the Dowager Duchess hear that,” she replied with a sideways glance. “I still cannot imagine how she managed to keep everything in this vast estate in order.”
“Oh, she was once just like you, I assure you,” he confided in her. “But… His Grace would definitely make a more patient husband than his sire.”
Scarlett paused at that. She had never met the previous Duke of Wolverton—save for his stern portrait looking down at her down the hallway. Hudson and his mother never spoke of him either.
“Was he a stern one? The previous Duke?” she asked.
The butler’s eyes looked shuttered, before he smiled. A little more politely, this time.
“He was… a very exacting man,” he said carefully, every word measured.
“Just like his son, then.”
The butler shook his head vehemently. “No, His Grace is nothing like his father, I assure you.”
“Should I be grateful for that or not?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Grateful. Infinitely grateful.”
So, his father was probably exactly like her own, demanding perfection where he failed to see his flaws. An inherent trait amongst men of their generation, she deduced. Most men she knew were only too eager to follow in their footsteps.
“Well, it remains to be seen whether His Grace will feel the same overwhelming gratitude—or regret—for having married me.” She smiled at the butler. “I am not without my faults either.”
“You are exactly what he needs, Your Grace, if I may be so bold.”
Scarlett laughed a little at that. If Hudson needed her so much, why did he spend so much time trying to avoid her? If he truly wanted her, why did he recoil from her as though her very skin was toxic?
“Thank you so much for your kind words,” she murmured.
“And I will offer them as long as you need them, Your Grace .” The butler bowed to her, the motion practiced over and over until it was smooth and flawless. “I shall leave you to enjoy your walk. Please do not hesitate to call for us if you need anything.”
She thanked him again before he left her standing in the garden with Snowdrop and the gravity of her thoughts.
Your Grace. Tomorrow, she was going to become a duchess. The Duchess of Wolverton.
“Ah, My Lady. How fortunate that I came upon you today!”
She turned around to find Lord Colton strolling casually towards her—well, as casually as the man could manage. He was still dressed quite formally for the country, as if he almost expected a ball to be sprung upon him at any given moment.
From behind her, Snowdrop let out a low growl, baring his tiny, sharp teeth at the intruding stranger. Scarlett noted how he recoiled from the puppy with an expression that looked strangely like disgust.
“Erm… that thing does not bite, does it?” he asked her.
“That thing is called Snowdrop, and I suppose he does bite,” she responded with a saccharine smile. “Otherwise, what good are those teeth of his?”
“Wolverton could have fetched you a purebred Pomeranian,” he muttered. “Instead of this… this… ”
She leveled a glare at him with an intensity that might have done her betrothed proud. “I chose Snowdrop, My Lord. His Grace had nothing to do with him.”
“Ah… I see. Interesting choice of companion, I daresay.”
And I daresay that this conversation is quickly losing its meaning.
“Did you seek my company merely to disparage my dog, Lord Colton?” she demanded.
“Oh, heavens, no , Lady Scarlett. I merely wished to offer you my best wishes in advance.”
“Oh.”
The man was being rather gracious for one who had lost the quest for her hand.
“Well, I do apologize for… for everything that transpired between us,” she said weakly.
She could be gracious, too, and as odious as he might seem at times, Lord Colton behaved with exceeding grace and forbearance in the matter of their messy betrothal.
His practiced smile set her nerves on edge for some reason. “Think nothing of it, My Lady. I did say that I would forgive you almost anything.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. How odd that he should use it again. That word. Almost. Lord Colton had first used it at the ball. Why did he keep emphasizing it as though it was supposed to mean something ?
But it was not like she cared anymore.
She offered him another practiced smile. One that would make a duchess proud.
“Thank you all the same, Lord Colton,” she told him, as courteously as she could manage. “I should return inside now. Mama must be looking for me.”
She did not wait for his reply. Snowdrop was already snarling at the Marquess. It would cause quite a stir if her dog attacked him after yet another attempt at securing her hand in marriage.
“I know he is not our first choice, Snow,” she murmured. “But sometimes, you really have to give a man a way out.”
Snowdrop, however, continued to growl all the way back to her bedchamber, as if he was a young child grumbling at having been made to wash his hands before supper.
Poor Lord Colton. It seemed that neither a scrappy puppy nor a full-grown Wolf liked him.
Hudson watched the scene from his window, feeling his blood run cold in his veins despite the warm afternoon sunlight streaming in. He shifted the glass in his hand a little before taking a drink. He seemed to be drinking more than usual, with very little to show for it except a raging headache when he woke up.
“Working up the nerve to walk down the aisle, eh?” he heard Ethan remark jokingly from behind him.
He quashed the urge to hurl the liquor in his friend’s face. Of late, Sinclair seemed to have made it his life’s mission to provoke him as much as humanly possible.
“Lay off him, Sinclair. Not all of us get to do our weddings twice,” Daniel drawled.
“The first one does not even count,” Ethan protested.
He walked up to the window and frowned when he saw what Hudson had been glowering at for the past few minutes—the Marquess of Colton staring after Scarlett as if he were some forlorn whelp in a tragic romance.
“Lord Colton seems unable to recognize when he has overstayed his welcome.”
“Lady Southford invited him in the first place.” Hudson shrugged and finished the rest of his glass. “I see no reason to antagonize my future mother-in-law by criticizing her poor judgment in wedding guests.”
“Then you must be one of the most obliging men for it,” Colin muttered. “I would have kicked him out at the very first opportunity.”
His friend would kick anyone out at the very first opportunity. He had even punched Daniel for marrying his sister behind his back—not that Ashton did not deserve it.
“Not,” Ethan snickered, “if dear Alice had any say about it.”
“Alice has never liked the Marquess either,” Colin countered. “None of the ladies do.”
Indeed, none of his friends’ wives—Scarlett’s closest friends—seemed to approve of the Marquess.
However, Hudson also recalled that Phoebe was not overly fond of him either, as she had made known in the orangery. Not that he did not deserve it, but he admired Ethan’s Duchess for standing up for her friend at that moment.
Courage and loyalty were rare in men. To find both in a woman who was nearly half his size was truly remarkable. Ethan was a rather fortunate idiot, he supposed—but still an idiot, nonetheless.
“Our offer still stands, you know.” Daniel smirked. “We can… take care of less desirable guests for you. As your groomsmen, it is only our duty, of course.”
Of course , Daniel was going to find an excuse to orchestrate the downfall of a nobleman. His opinion of the aristocracy had changed very little since he married Evelyn, although he was better able to tolerate more of them.
“That will not be necessary.” Hudson brushed him off with a grateful nod.
Colton might be a nuisance, but not so much that he deserved to have the Duke of Ash after him. The last thing Scarlett needed was another scandal surrounding their wedding. For her, Hudson could be a little bit more patient.
Just one more day . One more night, and I can finally be rid of these infernal guests.
Then, he would have the estate all to himself again. With his new bride. Whom he had promised not to touch.
Bloody hell .
“You know that you can also take your own advice, Wolf.” Daniel looked at him pointedly. “You can leave the past where it belongs and look forward with your Duchess.”
His own advice came to bite him in the arse the evening before his wedding. Just bloody wonderful .
“I seem to recall you did not take too kindly to the same advice, Ashton.”
Daniel simply smirked at him. “I never said it was going to be easy. I am simply saying that it would be in your best interests. For both of you.”
“Why are you so charitable with your advice now?” Hudson grumbled.
The Duke of Ash shrugged his shoulders. “I simply want my wife to be happy, and Evelyn wants her friend to have a happy marriage.”
So, it was still all about his wife, the damned traitor. It seemed that his betrothed had more loyal friends on her side than he had on his.
And when the morning came, his betrothed would become his wife. His in name and nothing else—and he would have no one else but himself to blame for that.
Hudson ran a hand over his face in frustration. That townhouse in London was sounding like a much better idea by the minute.