Page 25 of The Duke’s Spinster Bride (A Duke’s Game #2)

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Y ou simply must come up North! I have no doubt you would love it.” Lady Arlham exclaimed, flicking her wrist towards Andrea. “The scenery you could paint would be simply magnificent. The way the light hits the hills!”

Andrea smiled at her, resisting the urge to glance over the woman’s shoulder to see if she could see where Frederick had gone. He said I could do this, no doubt he will be back soon.

The group of people around her had grown. Lady and Lord Arlham had been joined by Viscountess Bircham and Miss Windhelm. All of them looked at her expectantly.

“I am sure I would, though I would have to discuss it with the Duke first of course.” Andrea glanced over her shoulder, but could see no sign of Frederick. Where is he?

“Of course, of course! You must both come. You and I can paint, and the boys can do … Well, whatever it is that men do when they spend time together.” Lady Arlham let out a laugh and Andrea joined in. “Perhaps they can go out for a ride or a spot of hunting. Though if that is the case, we will need to get the timing of your visit right.”

“I am sure we will be able to arrange something. I have been meaning to see more of the country.” Andrea swallowed, thinking of just how little she had seen.

“And you simply must visit Bath!” Miss Windhelm placed a hand gently on hers.

“Oh, I am sure my daughter would love to oblige you. After all, she seems to have become quite the well-travelled little thing.” Her father’s cold voice cut to the heart of her as she felt his fingers dig into her shoulder.

She turned, staring into his eyes. Her mind had gone completely blank. The only thing that filled her was a roiling panic. She had no desire to let him hurt any of these people.

“I do not suppose you would mind if I borrowed Andrea for a moment?” Her father inclined his head towards the people gathered around her. “I shall return her to you once we have had our little chat.”

Andrea wanted to tell him that she had no wish to talk to him, but how was she supposed to deny his request without causing a scene? Where is Frederick?

She had no doubt her father would never have dared approach her if Frederick had been by her side.

“Oh, of course.” Lady Arlham frowned. “I am sure we will speak later, dear girl.”

Andrea nodded, unable to find the words as her father moved her through the crowded ball room to one of the large doors that led out into the grounds.

He smiled and nodded at the people they passed, but no sooner had they stepped out of the doors and into the grounds, than his smile vanished.

He rounded on her, voice little more than the hiss of an adder that has been stepped on. “Have you no shame?”

Andrea recoiled, tugging free of her father’s grasp. Her heart thundered in her chest, blood rushing in her ears. She met his cold grey eyes as they bored into her.

“Of course I have shame. You made sure of that, Father.” She shook though whether it was out of fear or anger, she could not be sure.

“Clearly I did not do a very good job or you would not be dressed like that.” He wrinkled his nose and gestured to her. “Really, Andrea, such finery only highlights how very lacking your features are. I see marriage has not only robbed you of shame, but your senses as well.”

“It has done nothing of the sort.” Andrea clenched her fist, indignation rising up within her.

“How can you say that when you kissed the duke like some harlot not just once, but twice! In full view of the ton!” He took a step towards her, lips so thin they were barely there. “You have the gall to stand there and lie to me. I warned you there would be consequences.”

“I am not lying to you. But I will not let you speak to me like this. I will not let you bully me just because I am finally happy.” She straightened, looking down at him over the bridge of her nose.

If he wanted to be miserable, then let him. But she had no wish to let him drag her with him. She would not let him bring her down with him.

“Oh of course you are happy. You do not give a damn how your behaviour might impact me.” He thumped a hand hard across his chest, spittle spraying across her face. “I wager you did not even spare a single thought for how your wanton disregard of propriety would impact my health. Or had you forgotten that I am dying, Andrea? Have you forgotten my promises?”

His words were like a punch to her gut and she winced. She had let his threat slip from her mind, let the safety she had felt with Frederick cloud her judgement. Though, Frederick had been the one to kiss her and not the other way around, she doubted the ton or her father would care about that particular point of clarification.

“I did not want to hurt you, Father. I just… I just wanted to be happy.” She dug her fingers into her thighs, forcing her breaths to come in long measure bursts.

“And yet you did not think of my happiness? After everything I have done for you, after all the sacrifices that I have made? Were you so desperate to make a spectacle of yourself by acting like some common who-”

“- I would think very carefully about your next words, Lord Statton.” Frederick’s voice boomed out in the darkness and Andrea spun around to see him walking towards her, holding an envelope of some kind. “After all, you are talking to my wife, and I happen to be rather fond of her.”

Andrea saw her father sneer at Frederick’s approach, but beneath the bluster, she noticed the way his eyes darted from Frederick to the doors to the ballroom and then back to Frederick again, as though he was plotting his escape.

As soon as the smell of Frederick’s cologne washed over her, she felt like she was able to breathe again. Without thinking, she leaned into his touch as he slung an arm around her, drawing strength from it.

Her father’s lip curled. “Clearly my daughter’s immorality has rubbed off on you, or perhaps you are just as indecent as her. Either way, neither of you seem to care how your behaviour affects me.”

“If anything, it is I who have rubbed off on your daughter, Lord Statton.” Frederick gently squeezed Andrea’s upper arm.

“I see she has infected you with her callous nature, or you would not be so dismissive of the consequences of your actions.” Her father glared at Frederick.

“And what consequences would those be?” Frederick arched an eyebrow at him. “After all, it is not like you are dying.”

Andrea frowned at him, looking from Frederick to her Father. Lord Statton was apoplectic with rage. “Are you a physician now, Your Grace? Who are you to make such proclamations about my health?”

“No, but I am a duke, and unlike you, I look after my family.” Frederick’s voice was cool, his smile dagger sharp, but his words sent a jolt of warmth through Andrea that twisted her heart into pieces. “I had someone look into you. I thought, if you were dying, perhaps I would pay for your care so that you would leave Andrea alone. Imagine my surprise when my man revealed that not only are you not dying, but according to your doctor, you are in fact in rather rude health.”

Andrea rounded on her father. “You are not dying?”

“Be quiet when men are talking, simple girl,” her father snapped.

Before Andrea could stop him, Frederick had moved in front of her, towering over her father. Every bit of cavalier charm had vanished as he dwarfed her father. “Do not mistake my kindness for foolishness, Lord Statton. You have tested my patience to breaking. Take that tone with my wife again, and I will show you what it means to be on the wrong side of the Duke of Caverton.”

Her father sneered. “All this false bravado means nothing.”

Frederick took a step towards him, rage coming off him in waves. “Are you so willing to put that to the test?”

“Frederick, no.” She rested a hand on his chest, her eyes meeting his. “He is not worth it.”

“Yes, Duke, listen to your lady wife. It is clear to see who is in control in your relationship.” Her father’s sneering voice filled the space between them, the word ‘control’ echoing into the night.

“Be thankful she is here, and willing to show you more mercy than you deserve.” Frederick growled but did not attempt to push past her. Andrea rounded on her father. “I will deal with you in a moment.”

She turned back to Frederick and took a shaking breath. “He really is not dying?”

“He never was.” Frederick answered, though she could tell from his gaze he was still keeping an eye on Lord Statton. “He lied to you. And if he even dares lift a finger against you, I will ruin him. I will show everyone just what kind of man he is. They will see him for the liar and the thief that he is.”

Andrea swallowed, a lump forming in her throat. “I need you to let me do this by myself. Please.”

“Are you sure?” Frederick reached a hand towards her as though to touch her face.

“I am.” She kept a hand on his chest, the feel of his heart against her soothing. “But if you are worried, you can stay close and if I need you, I will shout for you.”

“Very well. But if he looks for a second like he might lay a hand on you, then I will not wait for your invitation to act.”

He shot an angry look at her father before retreating a little way into the shadows. Andrea clenched her fists and whirled on her father.

“You lied to me.” She took a step towards him, drawing herself up to her full height so she could glare down at the man who had made her life a living hell. “You told me you were dying just to control me? Just to try and force me to marry a man who is old enough to be my grandfather and more lecherous than even the worst rake?”

“You really believe him over me, your own father? Use what little common sense you have, Andrea, and think about it. What would I have to gain from this?” He gestured around them but did not raise his voice.

I suspect you are worried about Frederick if you do. It was too much to imagine her father might have tried to control his own emotions. “Whatever business deal Lord Crossley offered you—probably a parcel of land or some such thing. It would be like you to trade me for next to nothing.”

“This from the woman who married a man so cowardly he would not treat with me directly.” Lord Statton spat. “Pathetic.”

“The only pathetic person here, is you, Father.” She shook her head. “I do not know how I did not see it before—well, no actually, that is a lie. You made sure I would not see it before.”

“What utter nonsense are you talking about? Speak sense for five minutes, surely even you can do that?”

“This! This is what I am talking about! All of my life you have made me feel ugly and plain. You have made me feel stupid and small. At every opportunity you have sneered at me, made it clear that you think I am the worst thing that happened to you.” Her voice shook with barely controlled emotion, but she forced herself to step towards him. “You are my father, you are supposed to protect me.”

“Why should I when you took the one person I loved in this world from my side? When looking at you is a reminder of nothing but pain. You who claim to be my daughter but do not even look like me.” His eyes darkened as he folded his arms across his chest. “You are not mine, and yet I look after you still.”

The words stung, but she pushed past them. After all, she had heard some version of this all of her life. “You know I look like my grandmother. You have seen her portrait.”

“Portrait? Portrait? What does that prove? Nothing. She has been dead for years, and everyone knows that portraits are hardly some objective capture of an individual’s face. All they have to do is ask the painter to create a more flattering version of themself.” He sneered at her, gesturing around them. “I thought you were an ‘artist’; surely you would know that?”

“But that just proves it, after all, you frequently complain about my planeness and yet, if that is the case, why would someone ask a painter to make their portrait more flattering and have it turn out to look like me? So much like me that at the time I thought it was a cruel joke.” Andrea shook her head. “I am done playing by your rules, father. I am finished making myself smaller just because you cannot stand to see me shine. You are not dying, you will not harm anyone else or you will be ruined.”

“Brave words from a girl who killed her own mother.” Her father hissed, his voice cracking across her like a whip. “You killed her and now you stand here painting me as the villain.”

“Because you are! All my life you have made me feel small and stupid and weak and insignificant. You have broken me down so often, I scarcely knew who I was.” She swallowed as she remembered the many awkward conversations with men, the way she had grown flustered when she realised she cared for Frederick. “I could barely string together a sentence in front of someone I cared for, thanks to you.”

“Do not blame me for your deficiencies. You came into this world with blood on your hands, ripping your mother apart for your own survival.”

“I am just trying to be happy. And with Frederick…With Frederick I am final happy.” Andrea glared at her father, chin jutting forwards.

“You do not deserve to be happy. You do not deserve to be a loving wife, and god forbid you ever decide to become a mother.” He smirked at her, glancing up and down. “Though perhaps it would be for the best. After all, if you are dead, my problems end.”

Andrea had slapped him before she even realised what she was doing. He stumbled backwards, falling to the floor as he clutched his face. Her hand stung from the impact of it and she shook out her palm. With satisfaction, she saw a red handprint on his face.

“You do not deserve to be in my life. So get out. Leave me alone and do not ever contact me again. If you ever so much as breathe near my home or my family, I will set the dogs on you.” She glared at him. “If you want to spend the rest of your life a miserable old man, be my guest. But you will not drag me down with you; not any more.”

She turned on her heel and started to walk away. Frederick met her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She buried her face into his chest.

I am free.