Page 6 of The Duke’s Spinster Bride (A Duke’s Game #2)

Chapter Six

“W hat is this?” Frederick frowned at the thick envelope Lady Andrea handed him.

They were sitting in his carriage on the way to Mosley’s. Lady Andrea across from him, with her maid beside them.

“It is the terms of our engagement.” Lady Andrea explained. “I thought it would be helpful if we both had a good understanding of our expectations and perhaps set out a few ground rules.”

“This seems like more than a few rules.” Frederick slit open the envelope and pulled out three sheets of paper. “When did you have time to write this?”

“Last night.” Lady Andrea covered her hand with her mouth, hiding a yawn.

Frederick’s eyes widened. “Did you not sleep?”

“This seemed more important.” She shrugged.

“And these are non-negotiable?” He glanced down at the papers in his hand. What have I gotten myself into?

“For the most part.” She furrowed her brow as though she were trying to remember exactly what she had written.

There was a moment of silence as he read through more of her proposed terms of engagement. A part of him was tempted to point out the humorous nature of the title, but he suspected it would not be well received.

“I was looking forward to coming up with a pet name for you. Perhaps something like my little Angel cake.” He grinned at her, waiting for her predictable sigh of irritation.

“No.” She replied flatly. “That will only lead to trouble.”

“You are no fun.” He laughed.

“This is not supposed to be fun. We are simply helping each other out.” She sighed. “This is a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“Oh, be still my beating heart. And they say romance is dead.” Frederick shook his head, giving her a mock severe look.

“Please be serious for once. We are talking about the rest of our lives.” Lady Andrea gestured to the paper in his hands. “We cannot afford to get this wrong.”

“Very well. Though I do think we can stand to have a little fun at least. Being serious for the rest of our lives sounds rather tiresome.” He winked at her.

She ground her teeth. “I am only asking you to be serious for this carriage ride. If you think you can manage such a thing.”

“For you? I suppose I shall try.” He read through the two sheets of paper. “Living apart makes sense, though I think for the sake of scandal it would be best if we had two weeks of honeymoon. If we move straight into separate houses that will set many tongues wagging.”

She looked as though she were about to argue, but then she nodded. “Very well. And where would you like to do that?”

“My estate. It gives us a chance to get out of London and gain some modicum of privacy. And you have already been there. So you will not need me to guide you around.” He made a vague gesture with his hand. “Caverton is big enough that we will not constantly be under one another’s feet.”

“That is true. I suppose it reduces the chances of us wanting to kill each other.” She tapped a finger against her lips thoughtfully.

“Was that a joke, Lady Andrea?” He laughed.

“Perhaps. I am capable of humour on occasion.” Her tone was dry.

“I would rather you indulge in humour than murder, that’s true.” Frederick read on. “And what is this bit about rings? No surprise rings? What does that even mean?”

“It means that you will get me the ring of my choosing in Mosley’s and not decide to surprise me with another, more extravagant one.” She pointed to the clause in question.

“Very well. What if I want to surprise myself with an engagement ring?” He canted his head towards her.

She threw up her hands in frustration. “You promised to be serious, remember.”

“Fine. No surprise engagement rings and I will be serious as the grave whilst we negotiate.” He squinted at the rest of Lady Andrea’s proposals, a prickle of irritation running through him. Who is she to tell me what to do?

Hastily, he pushed it away, not wanting it to show on his face. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, trying to pick his words carefully. “There is one thing I would like to add.”

“Just one?” Lady Andrea tilted her head towards him.

“I am not a very demanding man.” He shrugged.

“Are you implying that I am?” Her eyes narrowed.

He grinned. “I would never imply that you were a man.”

“Oh haha.” Her cheeks coloured slightly and she added, “Well, what is your addition?”

“I am not going to have you call me Your Grace or Duke Caverton for the rest of our lives. You can call me Frederick or Felty if you would rather. I hate all this titled nonsense.” He shuddered.

It was true. He loathed how the people of the ton bowed and scraped before him. He had always found the title of Duke to sit uncomfortably on his shoulders. He hated the way people seemed to expect him to be hard and arrogant as soon as they learned who he was.

“I think Frederick will be fine. Felty seems far too close to a nickname.” Lady Andrea made an addition to her papers.

“My cousins almost all call me Felty.” He pointed out.

“And I am not your cousin.” She retorted. “Are you hoping I will say you can call me Andrea?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“It seems rather intimate.”

“One would argue that marriage is rather intimate.”

“It will not be, not for us.”

“Does that mean we cannot even be friends?”

She surveyed him, an unreadable expression on her face. “Do you truly want such a thing?”

“Why not? It seems better than being constantly at one another’s throats.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“I suppose. We can at least aim for civility.” Lady Andrea chewed her lip thoughtfully.

“Very well.” He signed his name with a flourish and then gave her a mischievous smile. “As we have the formalities over and done with, we have no need to be serious.”

Andrea sighed. “Perhaps I should have dragged the process out a little longer.”

“Come now, in time you will come to adore my silly carefree ways. Who knows, maybe you will even pick up some of your own.” He chuckled to himself, the image of her being silly seemed so entirely unrealistic that it almost turned his chuckle into fits of laughter.

“I very much doubt that.” She replied folding her hands over her chest.

He shrugged but said nothing more. The carriage trundled through the country side, and before long they found themselves packed into Mosley’s.

Unsurprisingly, his fiancée was efficient in her selection of rings. She had lingered for a moment around some simple, but expensive designs but ultimately had left them alone. More to break the tension than anything else, Frederick tried on a few rings, wriggling his fingers at Andrea in an attempt to make her laugh.

It did not work. He ignored the stab of disappointment as she turned away from her. It is only because I am not used to being around someone so serious. That is why I want her to laugh.

“An excellent choice, madam,” Mosley said from the counter.

“So you have made a decision?” Frederick looked at the ring Andrea had picked out—a simple thing, made of white gold with a small sapphire at the centre.

“Your lady has excellent taste.” Mr. Mosley said, smiling broadly. “I was just showing her the matching necklace and earrings.”

Mr. Mosley gestured to the necklace and earrings that lay on the counter before them. Fredrick saw the way Andrea’s eyes darted to them, her fingers stretching as though to touch them before she shook her head.

“There is no need-” Lady Andrea began, but Frederick cut her off “We will take them and the ring.”

“Wonderful. I shall just fetch a box for them; be back in a moment.” Mr. Mosley disappeared through a small door at the back of the shop.

“We had an agreement.” Andrea glared at him.

“You said no surprise rings. And this is neither a ring nor a surprise. A win on both counts.” He winked at her, enjoying the faint flush that crept up her face. “Besides, it is clear you want them.”

“That does not mean you have to buy them.”

“Perhaps I just wanted to do something nice for you. Consider it a wedding present.” He smiled. “Now is the part where you say thank you.”

“I think I need some air.” An odd expression crossed her face, and she left before he could say another word. He hesitated only a moment before he followed her.

He bumped into her as she was frantically trying to put her gloves back on. Their collision made her start, and she lost her grip on the garment, letting it fall to the ground.

“I thought you did not flirt.” He picked up her glove from the ground, gently shaking the dirt from it.

As he stood, the back of her hand brushed his neck, and he gasped. The graze of her fingers against his skin sent a thrill across him. He swallowed and looked at her.

“I do not.” Her voice was hoarse. “You startled me. That is all.”

“Then it would seem that the least I can do is help return your glove to its rightful place.” He took her hand in his.

Her skin was soft in his hand as he slipped the glove onto her fingers. He was gentle, not wanting to hurt her. A part of him knew he should simply let her put the glove on herself, but he found that he liked helping her.

“Thank you.” She murmured, her voice oddly constricted.

“My pleasure.” His own voice was soft.

His mouth felt suddenly dry, and her eyes traced his face. He felt as though time had come to a stop. The breeze tugged at a strand of her hair. He took a step towards her.

The sound of the door opening behind him shattered the moment and he turned away, clearing his throat.

“Your items, Your Grace.” Mr. Mosley handed him the jewellery.

“Thank you, Mr. Mosley. How much do I owe you?” Adrian reached for his chequebook and wrote down the sum the jeweller told him.

He felt Andrea’s eyes on him as though they were a physical touch. When he turned around, he was surprised to find her already in the carriage.

He hesitated as their eyes met and his heart sped up. He glanced towards Caverton Castle. “I have just remembered that I have some business to attend to at the castle. It would be best if you returned to London without me.”

If she was surprised, she hid it well. Her face was an unreadable mask to him. “If that is what you want.”

He nodded. “I will see you at the wedding.”

He turned before he could change his mind.