Page 14 of The Duke’s Spinster Bride (A Duke’s Game #2)

Chapter Fourteen

“I can see why you married her.” Thomas jerked his head in the direction Andrea had walked.

Frederick’s eyes kept drifting after her as she walked towards the stables. His chest felt tight as he watched her leave, especially after seeing how she had been with Thomas. The sound of her laughter had filled him with warmth when he had first heard it, pulling a smile to his own face.

His smile had faded when he heard his cousin’s laughter. He had frowned at the sudden heaviness on his chest. She was being friendly. That is all, she is the Duchess after all. Still, he had to force himself to unclench his fist as he turned to face his cousin.

“What do you mean?” Frederick frowned. “You know that our marriage is not one formed of sentiment. It was simply a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

To love is to lose. The memory of his father’s tear-streaked face swum to the forefront of his mind. The crackle of thunder filled his mind as a casket was lowered into the ground. Finding his father alone, lost in his cups, having just buried his wife. “To love is to lose, Frederick. Never forget it.”

He pushed the memory from his mind. His eyes wandered back to where Andrea had been walking, but he caught himself and focused on his cousin instead.

Thomas arched an eyebrow at him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And I suppose this is why you kissed her with such passion it set every tongue in the ton wagging?”

Frederick faltered on the steps into the castle, colour going to his“It does not take much to light the wildfire of ton gossip, you know that.” Frederick stumbled as he made his way up the castle steps. “Besides, I had to kiss her.”

His cheeks flushed as the memory of the kiss surfaced. Beside him, Thomas’s grin broadened, and Frederick straightened, striding into the house as he tried to compose himself.

The smell of Andrea’s perfume filled his nose as he entered the castle. It was so strong, he could have sworn she was beside him. He almost turned to face her, before he caught sight of servant carrying a bundle of her clothes to be washed.

What is wrong with me?

“So you are telling me you had to kiss her? And I suppose her looks had nothing to do with the carnal desire that swept over you at that moment.” Thomas teased darting out of reach as Frederick half-heartedly swiped at him.

“There was nothing carnal about it.” Frederick made a dismissive gesture. “It was just a kiss.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his tongue running along his bottom lip as he did so. He shifted as the hair on his body stood on end.

Thomas laughed. “That is not the way the grandmama tells it. She said the sparks between the two of you were enough to set the grounds ablaze.”

“We put on a good show, that is all.” Frederick could not quite bring himself to look into his cousin’s eye and stared determinedly ahead of them, shrugging as he did. “We had to make it convincing.”

“Of course you did.” Thomas gently bumped into him.

Frederick threw his hands up in exasperation. “Without it, her father would not have permitted the match. If I had simply asked for her hand and there was no scandal that bound us, he would have said no.”

“But why were you so desperate to marry her in the first place? One moment, you are swearing off marriage forever and then the next I hear you are embroiled in scandal and married so quickly I could not even make the ceremony.” His cousin pouted as they walked through the corridor. “And you know how much I like a good wedding! There is dancing, revelry. And the best part is I am not the one getting married!”

“We had to move quickly. And as to your question about why we needed to get married. Well…” He let out a disgruntled puff of air. “Grandmother tricked me. She announced, very loudly, that I was in want of a wife. I was getting mobbed by practically every eligible woman in the ton – one of the debutantes hid in a bush, no doubt to waylay me, and if Andrea had not discovered her, the plan may very well have worked.”

Thomas stopped walking, his arms folded across his chest, eyes wide with disbelief. “So to thank her you decided to marry her?”

“What? No.” Frederick dug his knuckles into his forehead, and threw open the door to the study, striding towards the decanter and pouring two glasses of wine. “I went to thank her and over the course of our conversation I learned she had no wish to be married, and well, it seemed like the perfect way to solve both of our problems.”

Thomas flopped into one of the armchairs, throwing his legs over one of the arms and leaning back. “Your problems being the attention of the ton’s debutantes?”

Frederick handed him a glass, resisting the urge to dump the contents into his cousin’s lap. “You try being hounded like that and tell me how you like it.”

“Oh you poor thing, to be so wanted by so many women.” Thomas’s tone dripped with sarcasm as he arched an eyebrow at Frederick.

The motion reminded him strongly of Andrea and he found himself smiling as he sipped his wine. “That is what And- the Duchess said to me. Though with more disdain than you have managed.”

“Your marriage is making even less sense by the minute. Why on Earth did she agree to it?” Thomas took a swig of his drink, running a hand through his hair.

“To avoid marrying Lord Crossley.” Frederick scowled at his drink.

“Lord Crossley? Why would she marry him? He is utterly vile by all accounts.” Thomas shuddered.

“Her father made the match and apparently had his heart set on it.” Frederick’s grip tightened around the glass as he thought about Andrea’s father and the words he had said to her on the day of their wedding. “He is the reason we were married so quickly, so that he could not cause any problems for us.”

Why did she agree to it? Why would she listen to him when he treats her like he does? Frederick forced himself to stop grinding his teeth and loosened his grip on the glass.

“Problems? But you outrank Lord Crossley! No man would choose him over you.” Thomas shook his head in disbelief, swinging his feet off the arm rest and onto the floor so he could sit up straighter.

“The Earl is not like most men.” Frederick kept his voice as neutral as he could while a tidal wave of anger washed over him. “He likes control.”

“So you married her to save her from a marriage to Lord Crossley? A rather gallant thing to do.” Thomas swirled the contents of his cup staring at them rather intently.

Frederick stiffened and shook his head. The last thing I need is Elington reading into the situation. “That is not why I did it. Neither of us wanted a marriage, yet neither of us could have avoided it. It was the most logical thing to do.”

He stared into the fire, running a hand across his jaw. “This way we both get what we want. She will go back to her life, and I will go back to mine. Once the honeymoon is over… It will all be over.”

He rubbed a hand across his chest, trying to ease the tightness he felt. Out of the corner of his eye, he sensed Thomas watching him intently.

“Then there really is nothing between you?” Thomas asked.

Frederick shook his head. “We are friendlier than we were, but that is all. We are just working towards a common goal.”

“And that is how you wish for it to remain?”

“Of course. I have no desire to go back to the way things were at the start of our marriage.” He thought of the way her eyes had flashed whenever he entered the room, the constant bickering.

Though when he thought of the more flustered and halting exchanges they had had of late, he found himself almost missing the bickering.

“There must be something wrong with me.” He murmured.

“Oh, there definitely is.” Thomas agreed, making Frederick realised he had uttered his thoughts aloud. “But I’m fond of you regardless.”

Frederick laughed, but the tightness in his chest remained.

* * *

“And there was Felty holding the cake above his head, grinning like a triumphant maniac.” Thomas poured out another glass of wine, leaning back on the sofa as he did. “And then we hear footsteps coming down the hall.”

He and Thomas had convinced Andrea to join them in the drawing room after dinner for wine and games. His surprise at her acceptance had grown into something considerably more prickly as time wore on.

He managed not to fold his arms across his chest by digging his fingers into his thighs. I must keep smiling. His cheeks ached with the effort of it.

Frederick gritted his teeth. “Perhaps we should speak of something else, I doubt the Duchess wants to hear the rest of this story. It is not very exciting.”

Her eyes flicked towards him before returning to his cousin, gesturing for him to keep speaking. “But I want to know what happens next. You cannot simply end the tale with him holding the cake above his head.”

“We have not even gotten to the best bit.” Thomas grinned at her.

Andrea’s face brightened. “It gets better?”

“I really do not-” Frederick began but his cousin cut him off with a wave of his hand that sent several sploshes of wine spilling to the floor.

He frowned at the spilled liquid. Why has that irritated me so much? It was hardly the first time his cousin had spilled wine on the carpet, nor would it be the last. Perhaps it was because he cut me off?

“- shush Felty. I am telling a story.” Thomas stood up, swaying slightly as he ran a hand through his hair. “Now, where was I? Ahhh! Yes. So Felty is in the kitchen, cake held aloft.”

Thomas demonstrated this by raising his arms above his head, placing one leg on the sofa as though he were an explorer planting a flag upon a mountain top. Frederick saw Andrea smile at his cousin’s ridiculous antics. His brow furrowed even more.

Thomas made a show of peering around the room. “Footsteps sound. We know we’re done for if the cook catches us, but Felty will not abandon the cake. Mind you, he’s a pipsqueak of a boy at this point. A stiff wind would carry him away.”

“Because you were so much taller than me, cousin.” Frederick replied, sarcasm dripping off his every word.

“I was.” Thomas dropped his arms and straightened. “Just because you are the taller of us now, does not mean you were then.”

“Then your memory is failing you.” Frederick straightened as he looked down at his cousin. “I was definitely taller than you at that age.”

“I rather like the image of a small Duke clutching a giant cake.” Andrea looked between the two of them and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “There is something rather sweet about it.”

“She thinks you are sweet Felty!” Thomas reached over and squeezed Frederick’s cheek.

Andrea giggled from the sofa, and Frederick batted his cousin’s hand away, massaging his face. “And you are drunk.”

“No, you are.” Thomas poured himself another drink. “And if you are not, you should be.”

Frederick watched as his cousin poured Andrea a healthy glass and then poured Frederick a glass. He then proceeded to drink wine from the bottle.

He expected Andrea to chastise his cousin, but she did not. He looked at her and arched an eyebrow, but his wife looked away, cheeks a delicate shade of crimson.

He took a steadying breath and said, “at least drink from the glass, cousin. We might have wanted more of that wine.”

Thomas grinned at him, wagging a finger. “You are just being difficult because you know how this story ends. And you know what a fool you will look like.”

“I was not the one who spent the entire next day unable to leave the chamberpot.” He gave his cousin a smug smile as Andrea’s eyes widened. Now let us see who looks the fool.

He took another sip of his drink, resisting the urge to glance at Andrea while he held his cousin’s gaze.

“Oh ho! You would have shared my fate if you had eaten the cake rather than worn it.” His cousin added in a stage whisper to Andrea, “He dropped the cake on his head, you see. And then proceeded to fall off the counter and almost crush it. I simply did not want to see all of our efforts go to waste and I had a snack.”

“But why did you then have to spend all day next to the chamberpot?” Andrea looked between them, confusion clear on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Grandmama had counted on some kind of tomfoolery. I am not sure what she had Cook put in the cake, but I do not think I have ever been so unwell.” Thomas clutched a hand to his stomach and shuddered.

Andrea laughed again and Frederick was struck by how pretty the sound of it was. How often does she laugh like this with me? The warmth spreading through his body at the sound, halted abruptly. It felt as though someone had thrown a bucket of icy water over him.

Forcing himself to return to the present, he looked at Andrea, trying to catch her eye as he said, “She intended to rid us of our midnight feasting habit.”

“It worked for a little bit. But not very long.” Thomas perched on the edge of one of the sofas. “Felty is particularly stubborn when it comes to midnight snacks. I am surprised you have not encountered him in the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning.”

“I do not often venture to the kitchens late at night.” Andrea smiled at Thomas, and Frederick felt something slick and oily stir within his chest.

Get a hold of yourself. He needed to smile. He had to smile. Why is it so hard to smile?

“Then you should. No doubt the cook has several excellent cakes secreted about the place.” Thomas gave Andrea a wink, and Frederick had a violent urge to shove his cousin off the sofa. “And now that Felty is married, I doubt Grandmama is tampering with the baking.”

“Are you willing to put that theory to the test?” Frederick caught himself as he took half a step towards his cousin, his voice coming out less amused and more frustrated.

“If the Duchess wishes it.” Thomas met Frederick’s gaze before turning to Andrea.

Something inside him snapped, and Frederick strode between them, gripping his cousin by his upper arm and moving him away from his wife. “I think it is time for you to go to bed.”

“But I am not tired.” Thomas whined.

“You are, however, drunk, cousin.” Frederick gestured to the butler, Mr. Jenkins. “Please could you escort the Marquess to his room, I doubt he is sober enough to find it on his own?”

“I am perfectly sober! You are just trying to get… OH!” Thomas slapped a hand to his forehead, eyes wide with understanding. “Ah, I see! Say no more! You want some privacy with your la-”

It was all Frederick could do not to clamp a hand over his cousin’s mouth “Cousin, shush.”

Thomas laughed and swept into a bow, slapping Frederick on the shoulder as he left the room with Mr. Jenkins for an escort.

“Lead on.” His cousin called over his shoulder. “I shall see you both in the morning.”

Frederick scowled after him, his heart flung itself at his ribs. There was a roaring in his ears that he did not understand. When he turned around, he found Andrea watching him, her expression unreadable.

“You did not need to chase your cousin away, we were having a perfectly nice evening.” Andrea jerked her head towards the door.

“So I could see.” He muttered to himself before adding in a louder voice. “I did not chase him away, he was drunk, and I did not want him to be a nuisance.”

“He was not being a nuisance. I thought he was rather funny.” She tapped a foot on the floor, her lips pursed.

Frederick scoffed. “Clearly. I do not think I have heard you laugh as much as you have this evening.”

“And yet you sound as though this has displeased you?” Andrea arched an eyebrow at him. “Do you wish for me to not enjoy anyone else’s company?”

“Of course not. I am glad you and my cousin get on.” He growled and found himself adding, “I just do not understand why you seem so willing and able to laugh when you are with him and yet not with me. I have told you that joke about the bishop and the actress before, and yet when Elington told it, you laughed as if you’d never heard anything so amusing.”

Andrea’s cheeks flushed but she said nothing, simply looked at him with that same odd expression on her face. He did not let it deter him.

It felt as though a dam had broken within him, words tumbling from his mouth before he could stop them. “All evening, you have been chatting with him as though you were the oldest of friends. I might as well not have been there. You seemed so at ease together, just relaxing in each other’s company. Yet if I spoke, you stiffened. What is it about him that puts you so at ease? What is it about me that does not?”

“Are you jealous of me and your cousin? Because I laughed at his jokes and talked to him?” Andrea’s eyes widened as she took a moved towards him.

“No.” He knew he sounded petulant, but could not seem to keep it from his voice. “No.”

He stood in the doorframe, folding his arms over his chest.

“Really? Because that is what it sounds like.” She gestured at him, leaning against the door. “Just look at you, you look as though you have sucked on a lemon.”

“I do not. It is just… It is frustrating. I thought we had reached an understanding and yet… You are not like this with me.” Frederick’s eyes met hers.

She laughed. “Careful, Frederick, you almost sound like a real husband.”

“I am your real husband.” He whirled around bringing his hands down on either side of her, his voice little more than a growl.

Her eyes met his, glittering in the moonlight. His heart hammered in his chest, the scent of her perfume was intoxicating. Her lips parted, eyes darting from his lips to his mouth and then back again.

Her breath tickled his skin. His own breathing was ragged. This is the closest we have been since we kissed. The memory of it seemed to fill the space between them.

A pressure built in his chest, an invisible string tugged him towards her. It would be so easy to give in. He wanted to give in. His eyes fell to her lips. With an effort, he tore himself away, adjusting the lapels of his coat.

“Frederick…” Andrea’s hand brushed against his arm but he jerked away.

“Good night, Duchess. I will see you in the morning.” He strode into the darkness.

He could feel her eyes on his retreating back, boring into him like the sun through a magnifying glass. He did not turn around. He did not trust himself to turn around.