Chapter 8
As expected, Gerard hosted an exquisite dinner.
Lewis imagined that the duchess had spent the better part of the day deciding on the menu and directing the staff to ensure that every detail of Lewis’s short visit was beyond reproach.
She was a proper duchess, and Lewis could only hope that the younger Leedway sister proved to be equally suitable.
Thus far, his future wife had spent most of the evening gazing at her food and drink with unusual intensity, as though the meal had somehow personally offended her. When the roasted pheasant arrived, the lady nearly speared it with her fork.
“How is the Dowager Duchess?” the Duchess of Greenway asked suddenly.
The same as she always is, utterly mad.
“She is well,” Lewis lied. “Her Grace is visiting Bath at the moment, so she is unable to join us. I do not know if she will even be in attendance at our wedding.”
“You say that as if you are going to be married tomorrow,” Elias said, taking a sip of his wine.
“Not tomorrow. But I imagine two weeks will suffice,” Lewis said. “That is how long it will take to obtain a special license.”
“And you have already decided upon this?” Elias asked. “We have not even agreed to your proposal, Wheelton.”
“But you will, Elias. There is no need of having this whole show, where you pretend as though you have other options,” Lewis said. “You do not. Your sister must marry me or be ruined, and we both know which you will pick.”
Elias’s easy smile wavered. He chewed a piece of pheasant, which Lewis suspected was an attempt to hide his reaction. The poor man could try to hide his feelings all he wanted. Elias was lacking in any manner of subtlety.
“Of course,” Lady Bridget said. “Two weeks is entirely satisfactory.”
Interesting. Lewis took a small bite of his meal, savoring the sharpness of the rosemary with the warmth of the fowl and the faintest taste of something softer. He had an admittedly limited knowledge of spices, but anyone would be able to tell that Greenway’s cook was excellent.
“What?” Elias asked, all but gawking at his sister.
“You heard me,” the lady said sweetly. “I have considered my options, like you asked me to, and I agree that His Grace is right. I have no choice but to marry him, and if that is so, why delay? I imagine that will only give the ton more to gossip about.”
“I…I suppose that is true,” Elias said haltingly.
Oh, it was. Lewis did not believe for an instant that Lady Bridget was suddenly so compliant, though. The woman was plotting against him, likely trying to find some escape from this marriage. He could not decide precisely how the young lady imagined that would work, but that was clearly her aim.
It might be entertaining to see how long Lady Bridget could maintain her resolve. Lewis imagined that she loathed pretending that she was a proper lady.
“Yes,” Lewis said. “I am glad that we are in agreement about the timing of our nuptials, my lady.”
“As am I.”
The rest of the table was so quiet that Lewis could almost believe it was just Lady Bridget and himself seated together.
“And I hope that you will find something else amenable,” Lewis said. “We ought to meet once a week, so I can assess you and your growth.”
Lady Bridget’s smile faltered. “I beg your pardon?”
“Well, I must ensure that you are appropriately suited to the role of Duchess of Wheelton, of course. Seeing how you conduct yourself in the weeks leading up to our wedding will tell me if you are truly worthy of being my wife.”
He imagined the phrase truly worthy would be sufficient for conjuring her fury, and to his delight, a flush of pink spread across her fair cheeks.
“I—I am more than worthy!” Lady Bridget exclaimed. “Lest you forget, Your Grace, I come from a well-respected family. My brother is a Duke, and I am quite aware of how a duchess ought to behave and manage a household.”
“Well, I hope so.”
“Both of Bridget’s sisters are excellent duchesses,” Elias said with a quick glance to the Duchess of Greenway. “I have no doubt that Bridget will be equally adept.”
Plates were removed and replaced, this time with warm, apple tarts that had been cooked to perfection. Lewis’s mouth watered just from the aroma of the dessert rising in the air.
“I will rise to the challenge,” Lady Bridget insisted. “After all, I was taught by the best.”
She looked towards her elder sister, whose brows furrowed. Some emotion flickered in the duchess’s eyes. Was it hurt? Concern? Lewis could not quite discern what it was, but Her Grace did not seem to believe that the comment was entirely sincere.
Maybe Morington had been wrong, and there was something flawed about this seemingly close family.
That was not unsurprising. Although Lewis had no siblings himself, he knew well about the difficulties posed by one’s relations.
It would be less believable if these siblings never quarreled with one another.
“My duchess is a remarkable woman,” Gerard said warmly.
Husband and wife shared a long look, and Lewis fixed his attention on the apple tart.
The pair seemed to be genuinely fond of one another, but that was likely because they were only newly married.
Soon, Lewis imagined that a man like Gerard would tire of this new man he had become.
He would want to return to his rakish ways, and his wife would be tired of him.
It would end poorly for all involved, but at least Gerard would have his wife and heir. Soon, Lewis would have a wife. Given her fiery disposition, it might take some time before Lady Bridget would be amenable to giving him an heir, but he could wait.
“You mentioned a Dowager Duchess,” Lady Bridget said, turning to her sister.
“Yes,” she said.
Was that Lady Bridget’s game? Did she know of the rumors circulating about Lewis’s grandmother and his treatment of her? He clenched his jaw.
No, that could not be it. If Lady Bridget had known something so damning, she would have mentioned it already among her litany of protests.
“My grandmother,” Lewis said smoothly. “Evelyn. She is a woman like no other.”
That was not the entire truth, but it was certainly undeniable.
“Is she your only family?” Lady Bridget asked.
“Of course not,” he said. “Now, your family is also my family.”
Lewis tried to match her sugary sweet smile, but given that he had never been a man who smiled all that much, he doubted he achieved more than a pained grimace.
“Oh, how kind of you to already think of them as your own!” Lady Bridget exclaimed.
Lewis narrowed her eyes. Lady Bridget gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence and ate a small piece of her apple tart.
His eyes lingered shamefully long on the sight of her plump, coral lips.
Her tongue darted out just the smallest amount to lick a little sugar that she had missed.
Lewis shifted uncomfortably, for he suddenly had a treacherous thought of how he could put her mouth to better use.
Eventually, of course. Lady Bridget had much to learn about being a wife before he could indulge in that manner of behavior.
“It is a good family to join,” Gerard said.
Lewis could not determine if the man was oblivious to Lady Bridget’s odd behavior or if he was making a valiant effort to spare them all from further discomfort.
“And it will be all the better with you a part of it,” Lady Bridget said.
“Thank you,” Lewis said tightly.
Lady Bridget smiled like an angel, but her eyes shined with a devilish delight. She enjoyed his torment. But why? Was Lady Bridget just vexing him because she had no other choice but to marry him? Or did she have something more planned?
Whatever it was, Lewis would find out. This sweet, compliant bride would not last forever.
“Well, shall we go to my study?” Gerard asked.
There was his moment.
“And the ladies to the parlor,” Lewis said smoothly. “I do hope that you are not too bereft without my company, my lady.”
“I shall try to be strong,” Lady Bridget said. “And I hope you will also.”
They slowly rose from their chairs, and Lewis’s eyes darted to Lady Bridget. If he was going to unravel her plans, he would need to meet her alone. But how was he to accomplish such a task? His eyes narrowed.
“I shall have to manage,” Lewis said.
Lady Bridget met his gaze evenly, as if in anticipation of his next move. She averted her gaze with a demureness that appeared entirely forced to his eyes.
It would be difficult to separate Lady Bridget from her sister.
That was, unless they decided to part ways early in the night.
It would not be too difficult to find her bedchamber, would it?
Lewis had not been invited to stay the night, but he dared indulge in the delightful fantasy of engaging in a secret, amorous encounter.
“I have a truly marvelous brandy, which you may delight in trying,” Gerard said.
“Wonderful,” Lewis muttered.
He had never before detested the practice of lords and ladies going to their separate rooms following dinners, but Lady Bridget presented much more fascinating company than the other two men.
They gathered in Gerard’s study. It was an unremarkable room, filled with all the expected trappings of a gentleman’s study. Lewis’s eyes darted to the doorway, as he planned his escape. He would have a drink or two, and then, he would simply insist that he needed a little air.
Lewis had not quite figured out how he would get Lady Bridget alone, but he could decide upon the appropriate course once he had made his escape.
“Will the Duchess of Sarsen be joining us for the wedding?” Gerard asked, producing three crystal-cut glasses and a decanter of brandy.
Elias looked askance. “We shall have to see. Two weeks is not much time to get word to her in the countryside.”
“I will tolerate no delay,” Lewis said, seizing a glass of brandy the moment Greenway had filled it.
“You have made that abundantly clear,” Elias muttered, dropping into the nearest chair.
“You could be a little more enthusiastic,” Lewis said.
Elias sighed. “I could be. I am grateful to you, Wheelton. It is only that the past couple of days have been…unexpected.”
Gerard pressed a glass into Reeds’ hand. He drank a generous gulp of the brandy, likely steeling himself for further unpleasantness.
“For all of us,” Lewis said dryly. “I did not anticipate finding a wife in such a matter.”
“There are worse ways to go about finding a duchess,” Gerard said.
“That is also true,” Elias said.
Lewis took another sip of his brandy, which was as marvelous as Gerard had promised that it was. The drink had a robust taste and just the right amount of bite for it to burn his throat without being unpleasant.
“If Bridget is married, I suppose my wife will have to turn her energies to finding you a suitable duchess this Season,” Gerard said slyly. “What do you say, Reeds?”
Elias wrinkled his nose. “Do not.”
“I would warrant your sister will disagree,” Gerard said, grinning. “I think she would agree that it is well past time for you to find a Duchess of Reeds.”
“Not a chance,” Elias said.
Lewis silently sipped his drink and glanced at the clock across the room. He decided that a quarter-hour would be sufficient time for him to sneak away.
And then, he would find Lady Bridget alone. If she wanted a game, he was ready to play.