Page 30 of The Duke’s Spinster Bride (A Duke’s Game #2)
Chapter Thirty
“W hat are you doing here?” Frederick blinked blearily up at his grandmother as strode into his study.
It had been days since he had last seen Andrea. He had tried to put her out of his mind, but everywhere he turned, there was some cruel ghost.
A painting she had moved, a book she had ordered. Her perfume lingered on his sheets; he had taken to sleeping in his study just to avoid it.
He patted his left breast pocket, where he had tucked the silver pocket watch. He still had not opened the small box. That was in his trouser pocket, though he had no idea why he did not simply hide the thing in his desk.
I wanted to do something nice for you.
“Really Frederick, is that anyway to greet your grandmother?” The Dowager Duchess clucked in disapproval, glancing at the state of disarray around them.
Frederick ran a hand across the stubble that lined his jaw. When did I last shave? Forcing himself to his feet, he moved towards his grandmother who was surveying him as she leaned on her cane. His shoulders and back cracked as he stretched.
“My apologies, Grandmother.” He inclined his head to her. “It is… It is good to see you.”
“I wish the same could be said of you. You look awful.” She wrinkled her nose. “Which reminds me of the most salacious bit of gossip I heard…”
Frederick frowned at her. “Gossip?”
“Yes.” His grandmother waved to a passing servant. “Could you be a dear and have some tea and biscuits sent to the drawing room?”
The servant cast a look at Frederick who nodded. “Of course, Dowager Duchess.”
“Excellent! There is nothing worse than swapping scandals on an empty stomach.” His grandmother looped an arm through his, pulling him out of the study and towards the drawing room. “And this is quite the scandal, let me tell you.”
He surveyed her out of the corner of his eye. What is going on? He forced himself not to look at the coat stand that held one of Andrea’s riding cloaks as they passed it. He stiffened and swallowed.
A hand went to touch his breast pocket, but he caught hold of himself and jerked his hand to his thigh.
His grandmother gave no indication that she had noticed him stiffen. “You know, I had a thought about my annual ball.”
Frederick narrowed his eyes at her. “What about it?”
“I am bored of pheasant, I think this year we ought to try something more exotic. I mean obviously we will still have to get in something more… pedestrian for some of the more beige members of the ton, but that does not mean the rest of us cannot get something a little more exciting.” She tapped a finger to her lips thoughtfully and then looked at him with a quizzical eyebrow. “What, no quip?”
“I am all out of them, today.” Frederick shrugged. Surely she is going to bring up Andrea at some point?
“Pity, you are usually my most amusing grandson.” She let out a theatrical sigh as they entered the drawing room and she sat down on one of the sofas, gesturing for him to take a seat in an armchair.
He sat stiffly, trying to ignore the feeling of walking into some kind of trap. He watched her for some sign of the subject he knew she would broach.
“Ah, and there are the refreshments.” His grandmother clapped her hands together as a servant entered the room with a tray of biscuits and a teapot, with cups and saucers.
The servant placed everything on the table, bowed to him and then his grandmother and then left.
“I suppose you are expecting me to pour the tea?” She arched an eyebrow at him. “Honestly, youth and their manners.”
Is this some kind of dig? The lady of the house was the one who was supposed to pour tea, and that was Andrea. The smell of jasmine threatened to overwhelm him but he pushed it away, forcing himself to smile at his grandmother even while the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
“Now, as I was saying. You will never guess what Miss Carmichael saw between Lord Yately and the Widow Mary.” She poured out two cups of tea, paused and then added a healthy measure of something from a hip flask to her own drink. “She found the two of them ensconced in quite the embrace. She practically swooned when recounting it, not that I put much stock in that. The woman truly has a flair for the dramatic.”
Frederick snorted. “As though you do not care for such things.”
What game is she playing? Suspicion and frustration warred within him. He curled his fingers into the soft arm of the chair, fighting to keep the smile on his face from turning into a frown. Any moment now, she will talk about Andrea. She is just trying to trick me.
“You know I love nothing more than drama. Well, perhaps love, but the two are so often entangled.” She gave him a meaningful look.
He bit his tongue. Now we will get to the truth of things. No doubt, she is going to tell me what a fool I have been. Yet to his surprise, his grandmother simply sipped from her drink and said, “It is like I was saying to Lady Thistlby, you remember her of course, Frederick. The one with a daughter who looks like a plum?”
“I do.” He dug a knuckle into his forehead, his head ached.
“Honestly, the poor girl has the most unfortunate complexion. And apparently her mother has tried everything, powders, tinctures, you name it and she has tried it. She is at her wits end.” His grandmother helped herself to one of the biscuits. “Are you not eating? Rather unlike you.”
Frederick’s frowned deepened, irritation bubbling to the surface. “Did you seriously come here just to talk about the latest ton gossip?”
His grandmother arched an eyebrow at him, crossing her ankles over each other. “What else would I be here to talk about?”
He gaped at her. “Oh, I do not know, maybe the fact that I let Andrea walk out of my life?”
“What you do with your wife is no business of mine.” She made a dismissive motion with her hand.
He ran a hand through his hair, his mind whirring. “You really expect me to believe that you did not come her to tell me to go after her? To call me a wool-brained fool for letting her leave in the first place?”
“And why would I do that? You know the situation far better than I do.” She wrinkled her nose at the tea and then added another measure of whatever was in her flask before smacking her lips together. “Besides, you are a duke and no one should tell a duke what to do.”
“As though that has ever stopped you.” Frederick felt as though he was trapped in some sort of alternate world. I must be going mad.
“I do not tell you what to do, dear boy. I simply… encourage you to do the things you already want to do.” She took another sip of her drink.
“So you are not going to tell me that I should have put up more of a fight? That Andrea is the best thing that ever happened to me.” He got to his feet and began to pace around the study, not looking at his grandmother. “You are not going to tell me that I am making the biggest mistake of my life?”
This is your home. Not anymore. The words bounced around his head, the sound of slamming doors echoing in between the sound of each of his steps.
His grandmother sipped her tea and replaced the cup on the saucer before crossing her hands on her lap. “Whatever for?”
“To convince me to go after her! You are the one who says that love is the thing that makes life worth living. I expected you to tell me that I was a complete and utter fool. I thought you would march in here, grab me by the ear and tell me to pull myself together.”
“Well, you know how I love to subvert expectations.” His grandmother’s lip quirked upwards. “Life would be terribly dull if I started behaving predictably.”
He thrust his hands into his pockets, kicking at the floor. “You are supposed to be berating me! Calling me all kinds of names and telling me that this is the biggest mistake I will ever make.”
“That sounds far too melodramatic for me to say.” His grandmother sniffed disdainfully.
“Argh.” He let out a frustrated growl, throwing his hands up in frustration.
The small box tumbled from his pocket, landing on the floor and bursting open. Something shiny glittered on the floor in front of him.
He picked it up, still speaking. “I expected you to tell me that I was being a coward and – and…”
He trailed off as he realised what he was holding in his hand. It was a cygnet ring, and beneath it was a tiny canvas with a dazzling blue eye.
He turned it over in his hand, a note falling into it. It was folded so small, he struggled to unfold it without breaking it.
You never did get yourself an engagement ring. And as I have finally captured the blue of your eyes, it seemed like the perfect time to propose. You are my real husband, after all. May this ring remind you of that.
His heart tumbled into his stomach, as he slipped it onto his finger. Realisation dawned on him, and he smacked himself hard in the head. “Oh God.”
“I knew you would get there in the end.” He glanced over to see his grandmother looking so smug he could not help but laugh.
“I cannot believe I have been such a fool.” He tugged at his hair.
It has been days, days since I let her go. Why had he let her go? Why had he just let her slam the door and leave? He should have gone after her.
She wanted him. He wanted her. He loved her.
“I can. Men often are.” She smiled fondly. “And your grandfather was the biggest fool of them all, God rest his soul.”
He swept towards her and planted a kiss on her forehead. “You will have to forgive me, but there is somewhere else I need to be. I have to make things right.”
“You really should shave, dear boy. I doubt your wife will take kindly to whatever this is.” She wrinkled her nose.
Frederick grinned. “That is just a risk I will have to take. I have wasted enough time already.”
He sprinted from the room, as his grandmother called out, “She is staying at Charlotte’s by the way, before you go haring off in the complete wrong direction.”
“Thank you.” He shouted back, barely breaking his stride.
He was fairly certain he heard his grandmother say something about “men” and “fools.”
I just hope I am not too late.