Page 4 of The Duke’s Spinster Bride (A Duke’s Game #2)

Chapter Four

“T hankfully the archbishop is a dear friend of mine, so he was more than happy to grant you a special license. Lady Andrea seemed to think that two weeks would be plenty of time to arrange things and was very open to the idea of a wedding here.” The Dowager Duchess surveyed him as she sipped from her glass of sherry.

Two weeks? Frederick made a noncommittal noise. He had been staring out of the window of his London house, watching as servants scurried about, cleaning up after the impromptu engagement dinner his grandmother had arranged the evening before.

He had only just managed to convince her not to throw a full ball, and only with Lady Andrea’s help. Absently he touched a hand to his lips. They had barely spoken since their kiss; it seemed like everyone in the ton was determined to speak to each of them on their own.

“That is good.” He murmured absently and then he realised what his grandmother had just said. “You have spoken to her then?”

“I was visiting with her this morning.” The Dowager Duchess took another sip of her sherry. “She was worried about a reading of the banns, it seems her father is still rather against the whole thing, so I assured her it would not be an issue.”

Frederick nodded. “She did seem worried that he might be an obstacle to our union.”

“And so he might have been. It is rather lucky the two of you found one another, for if she had chosen someone like Duke Havilliard she might have had to go through the reading of the banns.”

“She was going to marry Tolly?” Frederick felt something stir within his chest. Poor Tolly, I suspect he would have found himself rather blown away by the force that is Andrea Cowper.

Benedict Tolliver, Duke of Havilliard was one of his oldest friends. “I was planning on having him be my best man.”

“There is nothing to stop him doing so. After all, as far as I know they never even got around to introducing themselves.” His grandmother laughed. “Though, no doubt her Father would have hated their union just as much as yours.”

“Apparently, he wanted her to marry Lord Crossley.”

It made no sense to him. Lord Crossley’s poor character aside, the man was a baron with not even a tenth of the wealth Frederick held to his name. What kind of man would want such a thing for his daughter?

“The kind of man for which polite society has no words.” His grandmother’s eyes darkened.

Frederick had not realised he had spoken aloud, but before he could ask the Dowager Duchess to elaborate she continued, “And I will note, that she still does not have an engagement ring, Frederick.”

His grandmother gave him a stern look. “Need I remind you that it is tradition that the men of this family give their intendeds such a ring?”

Frederick ran a hand over the stubble on his jaw. “I suppose there is still time to get to Mosley’s.”

Mr. Mosley was a jeweller in the village on the Caverton estate and crafted some of the most beautiful jewellery in the country. Frederick tried to think if he had ever seen Lady Andrea wearing jewellery. What kind of ring would she want?

He shook himself. The ring scarcely mattered, nothing between them would be real. Why even their kiss had been for show! He pressed a hand to his lips, the memory of her jasmine scent lingering despite the passage of time.

“It certainly felt real.” He murmured, remembering how their bodies had melted into each other.

He could almost feel the warmth of her spreading through his body again, his arms wrapped around her, lips pressed together.

“Pardon?” His grandmother’s voice broke through his memory.

“Nothing.” His cheeks coloured, and he shifted uncomfortably. Stop thinking about the kiss.

His grandmother pursed her lips, and he tried to placate her with his usual easy smile. She looked unconvinced, drumming her fingers on the arm of her chair as she watched him.

Frederick swallowed, but resisted the urge to tug on his collar. His grandmother would probably ask what he was thinking about and he had no wish to share those details with her. Besides, she will take it entirely the wrong way. Just because it was enjoyable does not mean it meant anything. She is probably just a good actress.

“Is there anything else you wished to speak of, grandmama?” He poured her another measure of sherry.

“Your clothes. For the wedding.” She gestured to him. “When are you going to get to the tailor?”

“The tailor? I had thought to wear something I already own.” Frederic shrugged.

“You cannot be serious? Frederick, you will go to the tailor at once and commission at least one new set of tails. Preferably two.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“I have already told you that I am in need of a good wedding, Frederick. I know that the fashion of the ton for men is rather drab, and I am eternally grateful that you seem all too happy to embrace colour, but I want you to be resplendent when you are married.” She smiled fondly. “Your grandfather wore the most beautiful outfit, I swear seeing him in it made me love him all the more.”

“You are such a romantic, grandmama.” Frederick smiled.

“I know. Sometimes it feels like romance is wasted on the young.” She made a shooing gesture with her fingers. “Get yourself to the tailors. And whilst you are in town, perhaps you could pick up my hat from the modiste. She is only next door.”

“Is there anything else you wish me to fetch for you?” Frederick teased. “Perhaps the latest Byron poems?”

“Insolent boy.” His grandmother pinched his cheek affectionately.

“I try.” He swept into a bow, and left the room.

He decided against taking the carriage. The sun was out and the breeze was cool. The tailor was not too far from Caverton manor.

“A walk will do me good.” He swept his hat onto his head, shoved his hands in his pockets and began to whistle to himself as he walked through the busy London streets.

Every so often, he tipped his hat to a passerby, smiling and stepping out of their way. He had to admit, it was rather enjoyable being able to be cordial without worrying that he would find himself accidentally engaged.

He wondered if Lady Andrea felt the same. Why do I keep thinking about her? He shook his head, frowning. He supposed it was only natural to think about someone you were going to be married to. It did not mean anything.

He was so distracted that he almost walked in front of a hansom cab. The driver shouted at him, and Frederick darted back so suddenly that he collided with something soft behind him.

“Do you mind?” an irritated voice snapped.

Frederick turned and found himself staring at Lady Andrea. “Speak of the devil.”

His fiancée flushed deep scarlet, embarrassment and indignation written across her face. Her grip tightened on the bundle of books in her arms.

“My apologies, my Lady, I was caught up in my own thoughts, and was almost run down for my troubles.” He gestured to the road behind them, adjusting his top hat for good measure.

She nodded, some of the colour fading from her cheeks slightly. “You should be more careful.”

He grinned at her. “It is rather sweet that you are so concerned for my wellbeing.”

She rolled her eyes. “I simply have a vested interest in your survival.”

“Careful, dear lady, lest your romantic heart win me over even more thoroughly.” He clutched a hand to his chest, his grin widening as his eyes met her green ones.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but he could see a small smile playing about the corner of her mouth. “Are you capable of taking anything seriously?”

“I see no point in being overly serious. Life is far more enjoyable that way.” He shrugged and flipped his hair out of his eyes.

She shook her head, shifting the books in her arms. “We really do live in different worlds.”

“For now, but soon enough our worlds will be one.” Irrationally, he found that her words had irritated him and his tone was rather deeper than he had intended.

“What?” she took a hasty step back, her eyes flitting to his lips as her cheeks coloured even more.

“When we are married, as far as the law is concerned, our worlds will be one.” He forced his irritation back under control, and arched an eyebrow at her, fixing an airy smile on his face. “It was a joke.”

“Oh.”

There was silence between them. He watched as she shifted from foot to foot, clearly struggling with the weight of her books which had been knocked in their collision.

“Let me help you with those.” He reached for a few of the more precariously placed volumes.

Their fingers brushed and she let out a soft gasp, and he felt the warmth of her touch spread through him. Quickly, he took some of the volumes into his arms and stepped away.

He cleared his throat and tried to arrange the books in his arms so that he would not drop them. His eyes took in their titles and he shook his head.

“Quite the collection you have here.”

She glared at him, her shoulders stiffening. “You need not sound so surprised. Women can read, you know.”

“I am very aware of that, thank you, Lady Andrea. My surprise was simply at the variety amongst your titles.” He indicated them with his free hand.

“Some of us like to have things that stimulate the many corners of our minds.” She replied, her tone as sweet as honey, while her eyes flashed dangerously.

“I would argue that farming practices of England are rather the opposite. I know the subject is not the most exciting, but there is no excuse to write in such a dry and convoluted fashion.” Frederick caught Lady Andrea’s eyebrows raise just slightly, and realised that he had let himself slip without thinking.

He had learned at an early age that people were often discomforted by strong opinions. Add any amount of knowledge and people expected all sorts of things from you.

He shrugged and added, “At least, what little of it I read.”

Lady Andrea sighed, and Frederick let himself relax. Light and breezy. That was the way he had to live his life. It would not do to be anything else.

“If you hand me my books, I shall let you be on your way. No doubt you have somewhere important to be.” She looked at him expectantly.

“Not important. I am just on my way to the tailor. To order myself appropriate clothes for the wedding and the ball.”

“Do men usually do such a thing? Men’s fashion seems to be rather uniform these days.” She frowned. “I had thought to wear something I already owned, but I was told in no uncertain terms that this would be unacceptable.”

“By your father?” he asked, puzzling at the man’s sudden change of heart.

“No. Father is too busy being furious about the matter to bother commenting on my choice of dress.” Her smile did not reach her eyes, and her tone was more bitter than humorous as she added. “Suffice to say, several good friends have given me rather an earful about my dress. I have been told categorically to pick something... colourful.”

“Well, one should not look dull and dreary at a wedding. Imagine, wearing brown!” He shuddered in what he hoped was a theatrical way.

“Are you saying I look like that?” She glared at him.

“What? Oh…” He realised that she was wearing a plain brown dress.

“Sombre colours may not be exciting, but at least one knows they look good.” She stiffened.

He blurted. “Are you telling me that you truly like those colours?”

“What does liking have to do with any of it?” Lady Andrea chewed on her lip. “Just because you like a colour does not mean it would suit you.”

“I find it hard to imagine a colour that would not suit you.” Frederick replied honestly.

Even as she glowered at him, he had to admit she was pretty. She had fair skin, and an almost regal bearing. Though the brown dress was plain, all it did was not draw attention to her.

“Then perhaps you should try harder, for I assure you that there are many.” She shook her head.

“You look rather wonderful in purple, and I imagine you would suit shades of blue and yellow as well.” Frederick winked at her. “And if you were looking to be truly scandalous, you could wear something red.”

“Blue is actually my favourite colour.” Her eyes widened and Frederick got the impression that she had not meant to say that. “All shades of blue, though I am partial to the deep blue of sapphires.”

“Then you should make that the colour of your wedding dress.” He tried to keep the shock he felt from his face, focusing instead on broadening his grin. “Blue is my favourite colour too.”

“You are just saying that.” She eyed him suspiciously.

“I am not.” He gave her a mock hurt look. “Though, on the subject of sapphires, I need to get you an engagement ring.”

“A what?” Lady Andrea almost dropped her books in shock, and Frederick found himself smiling at her little squawk of indignation.

“An engagement ring. It is tradition in my family.” He shrugged. “I thought that I might journey to Mosley’s in a few days. Perhaps you would join me? You may as well pick out the ring, that way you can sell it if anything goes wrong between us.”

“Is this your way of telling me you have changed your mind about the engagement?” Was she teasing him?

“No. And I am unlikely to in two weeks.” He shifted the books in his arm again. “You do not have to come. Though it would probably be easiest as we will be able to size the ring then and there without having to go back and forth.”

“I shall have my maid join us. We may be engaged, but we will still need a chaperone.” Lady Andrea nodded to herself.

“Then you will join me?” Frederick asked.

“If it is a tradition, then we should follow it.” Lady Andrea shrugged.

“I shall send a carriage for you in the morning. It will take us a few hours to get there, but we should be able to return to London before nightfall.” Frederick glanced around. “Now, where is your carriage? I am getting tired of holding these books.”

“Surely a strong man like you can handle the weight of such things.” She arched an eyebrow at him.

He laughed. “Careful, Lady Andrea, it almost sounded as though you were flirting with me.”

Her face flushed. “I do not flirt.”

“Are you sure?” he canted his head towards her.

“Quite.” She shook her head. “Besides, everyone knows; it is poor form to flirt with one’s husband.”

And without saying another word, she turned and walked away, calling over her shoulder. “Keep the books. They will end up in your library after we are married anyway.”

Frederick watched her go, glancing at the books in his arms. “What on Earth have I gotten myself into?”