Page 5 of Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Duchess (Wallflower Season #3)

Kate pushed past him and wrenched open the door not caring if someone saw her departing the chamber.

She scurried down the hallway as fast as her legs would carry her without running until she was close enough to the ballroom to slow.

She slowed her breathing and placed a hand on her bosom.

For a moment, she flashed upon Andrew’s lips as they traced the curve of her neck down to her décolletage.

She pushed the image from her mind. He was a horrible man, and she wished to forget this evening had ever transpired.

Not even bothering to find Julia, Kate pushed her way through the throngs of guests and escaped into the cool night air and away from the disaster that had almost befallen her.

Several weeks later, Kate was unable to push away the memories of the night of the masquerade ball.

She had immersed herself in preparations for Julia’s upcoming wedding, but it was to no avail.

She was filled with both anger and desire.

How could she have experienced such pleasure at the touch of so odious a man as Andrew Fitzwilliam?

Perhaps she was wrong to think she could enjoy the touch of a man without consequences.

No, she decided. She would remain a spinster and passion would have to belong to others.

It was something she would deny herself rather than risk such embarrassment again.

Kate stroked her terrier’s wiry fur. “Tibbs you will remain my sole companion. You are much more entertaining and a better listener than any man I know anyway.”

She heard the sound of footsteps outside her study door. Julia must have arrived. She had sent a note that she would bring a gown for Kate to wear to the ceremony. She pushed aside her foul mood.

“Ah, Kate. Hard at work, I see.” Julia hurried in, her blue eyes sparkling, and her cheeks flushed from the cool autumn air. “Come walk with me through the gardens, so you might enjoy some of the beauty of the grounds rather than your dusty old tomes for a change.”

“My books are not dusty. Mr. Turner would be quite distressed to hear you disparage the maids’ hard work.” Kate gave Julia a fond smile. “Have you brought the dress?”

Julia nodded happily. “Yes. I have given it to the maid to hang so that it shall be ready for you to don the day of the wedding.”

“May I see it?” Kate did not follow fashion, but she wanted to show Julia she was invested in the nuptials.

Julia wagged her finger. “No, you may not. It is to be a surprise for you. I don’t want you to even peek. I gave the strictest instructions to Molly that she is to hide it from you until the day of the grand event.”

Kate sighed. “You shan’t have me dressed like a pumpkin, will you?”

Julia’s laugh echoed in the hallway as the two of them walked to the entrance that exited onto the front grounds.

Outside, the hedges that lined the carriageway had been trimmed and the trees were being shaped by the gardeners into various shapes and fantastical creatures in preparation for the wedding.

“I would never dress you as a pumpkin, although I am sure that you look lovely in orange. Now, I brought you outside so you could tell me all about your evening with the rake. You dashed out of the masquerade ball so quickly, that I scarce had time to even see you flee. Did it not go as planned?”

Kate felt her cheeks flush as thoughts of her evening with Andrew filled her mind. “It was… memorable.”

Julia’s brow furrowed. “I sense some sadness on your part. Pray tell me what happened. Did he mistreat you?”

“Oh, no. Nothing of the sort.” Kate shook her head “It was Andrew Fitzwilliam, Duke of Devonport, who appeared in the room. He is no gentleman, but a scoundrel and a rake. There was no night of pleasure. Only harsh words and raised voices.”

“The Duke? He is Harry’s cousin. I am sad to hear you speak of him in such low terms.” Julia’s bottom lip poked out, and she frowned. Her eyes shifted away from Kate's. “It wasn’t the duke who I had arranged to attend to you at the masquerade.”

“It was he who spread such vicious lies about Nicholas. I know you have no reason to believe him, but my brother would never have abused your trust in him so sorely as what the gossips would have you believe. If not for Andrew Fitzwilliam and his deceit, you would be wedded to Nicholas, and you and I would be true sisters.” Kate felt tears well in her eyes at what might have been.

Julia threaded her arm through Kate’s. “You know what my opinion of this matter is. But I do not want us to have that same argument again. Perhaps it must have been fate that Nicholas and I did not wed. But, Kate, you mustn’t be angry at Andrew for he is Harry’s only family.

It is Harry’s dearest wish that Andrew be his best man at the wedding.

Harry has already asked Andrew to help arrange the wedding. ”

“If it would not be unladylike, I would let loose with a curse that would turn even a sailor’s face red,” Kate grumbled. “I can’t work with him, Julia. Not even for you. I despise him. Especially not after…that.”

“But you must, Kate.” Julia turned pleading green eyes to Kate. “Please. I cannot lose Harry as I lost Nicholas. I would be ruined and would be banished to spinsterhood forever if another engagement was broken.”

“Spinsterhood isn’t so terrible, you know,” Kate said, biting her bottom lip to keep from saying more.

“I am sorry. I spoke without thought for your feelings,” Julia said, a small tear trickling down her cheek. “It would break my heart to know my words hurt you. Please forgive me.”

Kate sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I know that I shall never marry. Destined to be the bridesmaid, but never the bride. At least that is one gift I can give you for both of us. Your dream wedding here at Renwood.”

“And you’ll work with Andrew to prepare for the wedding?” Julia said, a hint of wheedling laced through her words.

Kate looked at her dearest friend and felt herself waver, but then she thought of his behavior and felt her spine stiffen. “I could barely tolerate being in the same room with the man, let alone plan your wedding. It is simply impossible.”

Julia gave a small shrug. “I understand. And I am sure Harry will, too.” She disentangled herself from Kate. “I must dash and return to town. I have so many things to do, and Mother wishes me to meet with the milliner for several new bonnets.”

Before Kate could protest, Julia hurried toward her carriage.

As it drove away, a new carriage turned down the drive.

Even at a distance, Kate spotted the crest on the door.

It was the same one from the night of the masquerade ball.

Andrew Fitzwilliam, Duke of Devonport, and despite her shock, the dishonorable rake had arrived.