Page 11 of Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Duchess (Wallflower Season #3)

“Will there be anything else, ma’am?” Mr. Scoville stood waiting for further instruction.

Kate waved her hand. “No, thank you, Mr. Scoville.”

“Very good. Tibbs could do with a bath. He found something distasteful on the grounds and somehow managed to make his way into His Grace’s bedchambers and leave it on his bed. Perhaps that is why he left in such haste.”

Kate grinned. Tibbs was always there to defend her.

At Devonport, Andrew alighted from his carriage.

The note he had left for Kate had been a welcome respite from his own frustration with his behavior.

He disliked causing distress to any woman, and for some reason, seeing Kate’s face so pale disturbed him more than he liked.

His meeting with his cousin, Harry, Earl of Winfield, was the perfect excuse to leave Renwood Castle.

Kate had certainly shown herself a capable mistress of her household akin to his own grandmother who was a tough woman in her own right.

Something he did not often see in women within his social circle.

Despite his grudging admiration of her capabilities, he found himself at odds with her whenever they attempted to engage in a civil conversation.

Her continued insistence that he was the perpetrator of the gossip about her brother, Nicholas, Viscount of Pembrooke disturbed him.

When he entered the parlor, his grandmother looked up from her needlework and frowned. “I thought you wouldn’t return for some days yet. Are the wedding plans complete already?”

Andrew bent down and kissed his grandmother on her cheek. “No. I promised Harry I would meet with him this evening to discuss arrangements. I have been frustrated to no end trying to plan the wedding with Miss Avery. She disagrees with me at every turn.”

His grandmother raised her brows at his declaration. “I know the Dowager Viscountess quite well, and although Lady Pembrooke is an obstinate woman, I doubt that Miss Avery would be disagreeable. Lady Pembrooke would ensure that her granddaughter displayed all of the appropriate social graces.”

Andrew snorted. “Social graces, yes, but Miss Avery voices her opinion on everything. It’s maddening.”

“Come sit with me and tell me more about your visit and the state of the wedding plans.” She set her needlework aside. Next to the fire, Cinder, her black cat and constant companion opened one green eye. Seeing it was Andrew, he closed his eye and returned to sleep.

Andrew sat down next to the fire. A storm had started to brew outside as his carriage pulled up to the house and the air had turned cold. He felt a small moment of satisfaction that he had been correct to insist on the wedding being held indoors.

“Miss Avery is quite outspoken. She spends more time with her books than she does with her peers. I fear it has made her quite obtuse. She fought me at every turn.” Andrew stared at the fire. His countenance grew grumpier by the second.

The Dowager Duchess gave him an indulgent smile. “So she is not the wilting flower like most of the girls who’ve tried to capture your hand in marriage?”

“Quite the opposite. Her tongue is sharp, and she frustrates me,” Andrew said.

“Perhaps you simply like the girl.” She turned to him, but he looked away from her watchful eyes.

His grandmother’s pronouncement startled Andrew and he scowled.

“Certainly not. She is a wallflower and a bluestocking. I shall be quite glad when this wedding is finished so I can see the back of Miss Avery. In fact, I shall tell her tomorrow that my time is too valuable to while away the hours on such nonsense as a wedding. Every decision can be hers.”

“Is that wise? You promised Harry that you would assist him.”

“I’ve made up my mind. Miss Avery is on her own.” His decision made, Andrew couldn’t help but feel the matter wasn’t quite done.

The Dowager Duchess looked down at her needlework. She made a small noise of disbelief. Andrew gave her a sharp glance trying to discern his grandmother’s thoughts, but she simply gave him a thoughtful look and smiled.

“Cousin, you are in a foul temper,” Harry said.

Andrew and Harry strolled to the stables to inspect the newest stallion the duke had acquired. Harry had arrived that afternoon, and his eagerness to marry Miss Roves caused Andrew to stifle his urge to excuse himself from returning to Renwood Castle and Miss Avery.

“Are you well-acquainted with Miss Avery, the Viscount of Pembrooke’s sister?” Andrew asked, clasping his hands behind his back as he turned to Harry.

Harry raised a quizzical brow. “I have had occasion to speak to her as she is Julia’s closest friend. She seems a pleasant enough girl despite her bookish ways. Why do you ask?”

Andrew opened his mouth to vent his frustrations about Kate, but Harry had asked for his assistance as family. It would be churlish of him to complain. “I find her difficult to please,” he said finally.

Harry nodded. “Excellent. I am pleased that she is paying such close attention to the details of the wedding. This must be a glorious affair. I am eager to please Julia and start our married life on the heels of a grand wedding.”

Andrew did not correct his cousin’s assumption that Kate was difficult to please because she wanted the very best for the wedding.

Although, he had to admit she did seem to want things to be fabulous.

Perhaps it was boorish to say otherwise to Harry.

Instead, he held his tongue. It would be better for everyone if he simply agreed to everything Kate suggested and left the planning to her.

He would acquiesce to her every suggestion.

He had far greater things to occupy his time with than a wedding and all that accompanied it.

“Your attention to your bride’s wishes is to be commended, cousin,” Andrew said. “Miss Roves is fortunate that you were there to heal her broken heart.”

Harry didn’t speak for a moment. When he did, he kept his eyes fixed on the paddock watching the stallion prance across the green grass while a stable hand tried his best to hold tight to the lead.

“I long admired Miss Roves from afar. She is a spirited and beautiful woman and a man like Lord Pembrooke would have been a poor match for her. When news of her broken engagement reached me, I admit it pleased me.”

Andrew called to the stable hand to bring the stallion to the fence.

The chestnut stallion stood a good fourteen hands and would make an excellent ride for him.

He didn’t like his horses docile. He wanted some spirit in his ride that with a firm hand he could control, but not break.

When the horse whinnied as the boy brought it to the fence, Andrew reached out a hand and stroked its neck.

“It surprised me that the Viscount would act in such a heinous way toward his fiancée. And then for the gossips to attribute the rumors to issue from me was even more surprising,” Andrew said, his voice bitter.

Harry stood back from the fence. “Andrew, I’m not sure that stallion can be broken. It might be better to sell it and be done rather than risk harm to you.”

Andrew laughed. “He won’t harm me. All I have to do is look in his eyes to see that he is an excellent choice.” He turned to his cousin. “Now, tell me your plans for the evening.”

“I thought we would visit the gaming halls. My fingers itch which is a sign that luck is on my side. I feel tonight will be a big win for me.” Harry’s voice rose in excitement.

Andrew didn’t say anything, but inwardly, he sighed. His cousin had lost more than he won over the years. The estate his father had left him would only fund him for so long if Harry continued with his losing streak. When Andrew had counseled him, Harry had brushed him off.

“Unfortunately, cousin, I shan’t join you. If I am to return to Renwood Castle on the morrow, I will need to make an early night of it. I wish you good luck.”

Andrew returned to Renwood Castle late the following afternoon.

Kate had expected him to return that morning, so they could finalize the dances and plan the entertainment for the guests in the days leading up to the wedding.

When he hadn’t arrived by midday, she tamped down her frustration.

She would try to be more agreeable upon his arrival.

He could try her patience to no end, but she would persevere and not allow him to distress her.

When Mr. Scoville announced his arrival as she stood on the grounds taking note of areas that needed maintenance before the pre-wedding games, she stopped her discussion with the head gardener and greeted him. “I am pleased you were able to return, so we can continue our plans.”

“I am sure you have affairs well in hand,” Andrew said, his tone betraying nothing.

Kate narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “I thought yellow and red chrysanthemums should adorn the walkway the day of the wedding,” Kate said. She kept her voice neutral.

“Don’t you think they will appear rather plain?” Andrew asked. He noted that the gardeners had finished trimming the hedges on the path to the chapel. The stone walkway had been freshly cleaned and the stones had been leveled. Something he, himself, had noticed but dismissed as a minor issue.

Despite Kate’s promise that she would be agreeable, his immediate dismissal of her suggestion caused her temper to fray. “Must you argue with me on everything?”

Andrew’s own temper blazed, but he clamped it down.

He would not let this wallflower prick his skin with her words.

He shrugged and looked across the wide expanse of lawn rather than meet her eyes.

“Anything you decide is fine with me. I’ve decided that planning this wedding is a trifling affair I don’t wish to be burdened with.

You may decide what you wish, and I shall agree to your every request.”

“You can’t be serious!” Kate exclaimed. “What brought about this change? You have countered my every suggestion thus far, but now you lay down as if you were a lamb rather than a lion.”

He cocked his eyebrow at her likening him to a lamb, but rather than roar at her as she expected, he turned away.

“Oh, but I am serious,” Andrew said, his expression indifferent. He plucked a leaf from the hedgerow next to him in Renwood Castle’s garden. He strolled along the stony path. Kate hurried to catch up to him.

“I should have expected no less from a man such as yourself.”

He spun on his heel and loomed over her. “A man such as myself? And what, pray tell, do you mean by such words?”

“A rake and a scoundrel,” Kate stuttered, thinking of his kisses and how they made her feel. Only a rake would break his word.

Andrew lowered his gaze. His blue eyes focused on her throat, and he reached out a hand to touch her pulse. It fluttered beneath his touch. His smile turned from dark to seductive. “Perhaps I should demonstrate what a rake and a scoundrel truly is, Miss Avery.”

Kate’s mouth went dry. “Wh—what do you mean?”

His hand cupped her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. “You claim to know what kind of man I am. You say I am a rake and a scoundrel.”

“Yes.” Kate’s pulse quickened with each breath. “You can’t be trusted.”

He released her and she stumbled away from him. “Be careful, Miss Avery. You tread on dangerous ground to speak of dishonor.”

“You, sir, have done innumerable damage to my brother and his honor. You have little room to talk.” Kate’s words tumbled from her mouth lest he realized how his touch made her long for more.

He pulled her back to him, his jaw tightened.

“I am tired of my name being bandied about over such a trifle as your brother’s infidelity.

I have done many things that some may consider depraved, but spending my time gossiping like an old aunt is not one of them.

I am done defending myself regarding the Viscount and Miss Roves.

I know nothing of your brother and his affairs or lack thereof.

” His voice had grown in volume, so much so, that a bird took flight from a nearby bush disturbed by his anger.

Kate heard the sincerity in his voice and it rang of truth to her.

She had misjudged him. She wanted to argue that it must be him as many had said so, but the look in his eyes took the fight from her.

In a moment of clarity, Kate realized she believed the same wagging tongues that had accused Nicholas of scandalous behavior.

The gossips had harmed both her brother and the duke.

“I—I don’t know what to say,” Kate’s voice caught in her throat.

She pulled herself from his grasp and fled toward the house.

Andrew blew out a breath, and considered going after her, but decided that there was nothing more he could say. He stalked away toward the stable. Perhaps a ride upon the black stallion would staunch his frustration with the lovely, but exasperating Kate Avery.