Chapter 10
Ten
Andrew dodged a child running to grab his leg, laughing as Norman Egerton, Duke of Wharton, rushed after the toddler. Little Alexander cackled, rushing to the side and dodging his father's attempts to capture him.
Kitty, Norman's wife, entered the room with a smile. "Andrew!"
Grinning, he gave her a hug. "Dearest cousin-in-law."
"You flatter me." Kitty dodged Alexander with ease, nearly tumbling into Norman.
"I swear, having Alexander is the greatest joy of my life, but he reached the age where he can reach everything and run fast, and nothing has been the same since.
Sometimes I long for the days when he had the physical abilities of a potato. "
Andrew snorted and shook his head. "You're going to have another one soon enough."
Kitty's hand moved to her swollen stomach, a loving look settling in her eyes. "All I can do is hope for a daughter now. I would love a little girl to dress as if she were a doll."
"Alexander barely keeps his breeches on." Norman appeared beside them with the toddler tucked under one arm, the boy giggling despite his capture. His dark hair was disheveled, his cravat slightly askew. "I no sooner dress him then the clothing is on the floor and he's dashing through the house."
"And what of your nanny?" Andrew stuck his tongue out at Alexander, making the three-year-old giggle.
"Here!" She rushed into the room, her cap crooked, her cheeks flushed. She curtseyed quickly. "Good morning, Your Grace."
"You deserve a holiday," Andrew said with a teasing smile as she took Alexander only to have him immediately wriggle out of her arms and take off running again.
"I love my job, Your Grace," she said before chasing the toddler out of the room.
Norman shook his head and crossed his arms. "I can't have you trying to charm Mrs. Maggie. It's a bad look and I can hardly afford to lose another member of my staff because you broke her heart."
"The chef was hardly my fault." Andrew shrugged before moving to the couch in the parlor and taking a seat. "She thought we were going to get married even though I told her I had no interest in anything serious."
"And that is the reason her heart broke," Kitty chided, sitting on one of the other couches.
Norman sat beside her, crossing his legs at the ankles. "Really, Andrew, I don't know how you do it."
"Well, Norman, it's a good thing you never visit the Mayfair Fox then. You would be astounded by the business dealings and the way men charm women."
"I didn't go there when I was a bachelor, and I certainly have no plans on visiting now." Norman stood, moving to the window and watching as Mrs. Maggie and Alexander made their way outside. "I ask again why you even bother keeping this business. You don't need the money anymore."
Andrew felt his jaw tighten. The words landed exactly where Norman intended them—a direct hit to his pride. "God forbid a duke wants to work instead of spending his day playing. I would rather keep busy than bathe in the gossip of the ton for my main source of entertainment."
"I hardly bathe in gossip."
Kitty snorted and shook her head. "Do you think I haven't caught you stealing my gossip papers every now and then?"
Norman rolled his eyes. "It's hardly stealing them when you have them all over the house, my love."
Andrew scoffed. "If the two of you are about to act like newlyweds again, it might be time to take my leave."
"So you can go back to the club and avoid whatever it is that drives you to work there?" Norman smirked, rounding the couch as one of the maids brought in a platter filled with sandwiches. He selected one, examining it as though it held great significance.
Andrew's humor vanished. He sat forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. "I have need to keep working there."
He didn't want to delve into all the reasons why he still ran the Mayfair Fox. Not when it served no purpose to the conversation. Norman was merely trying to provoke him, to extract some confession Andrew had no intention of making.
"I hardly see the need when all it brings you is trouble and a tarnished reputation." Norman took a bite of his sandwich, chewing with deliberate slowness. His eyes never left Andrew's face. "I rather wonder what you stand to gain from it."
The lecture was manifesting exactly as Andrew expected. He should have simply sent the wedding invitations by post and been done with it all. It would have saved him this particular ordeal.
Andrew forced himself to relax his clenched fists. He leaned back, affecting an air of nonchalance he didn't entirely feel.
"I merely wish to occupy myself productively instead of sipping tea all day." He didn't wish to fight with some of the few people who still regarded him with genuine affection.
Norman had every right to express concern. Andrew knew what he was doing was uncharacteristic, perhaps even reckless. But it was necessary.
It was a gamble he hoped would prove successful, though part of that gamble required projecting confidence about this marriage that he most certainly didn't possess.
Norman shrugged, though his eyes remained sharp. "And this has nothing to do with your father?"
The question struck Andrew and left him breathless. It had been entirely unexpected. Andrew felt his entire body go rigid, his jaw clenching so hard his teeth ached.
"Why must everything relate to my father?" Andrew shook his head, trying to dispel the bitter taste that always accompanied discussions of the late Duke. "I know you think I harbor an obsession with him, but I have moved beyond his shadow. I have created something worthwhile with my life."
"Those don't sound like the words of a man who has moved beyond anything," Kitty said quietly.
Her voice held no judgment, only gentle observation—which somehow made it worse.
"Really, it is quite acceptable to harbor anger toward him still.
Many people struggle with family difficulties long after the family member in question has passed. "
Norman nodded his agreement, his expression softening slightly. "Your father was hardly a good man, and he had his demons. You worked tirelessly to rebuild what he destroyed after he passed. You're permitted to resent him."
Andrew's throat tightened. He stood abruptly, moving toward the window to place distance between himself and their sympathetic gazes. He clasped his hands behind his back, his shoulders rigid.
"I would prefer not to discuss my father." The silence that followed felt weighted, expectant. Andrew drew in a slow breath, forcing the tension from his shoulders. When he spoke again, his voice was carefully controlled. "I came here to inform you that I'm going to be married."
The effect was immediate and dramatic. Andrew spun away from the window just in time to see the reactions of his dear friends. Kitty's jaw dropped. It opened and closed several times as though she were trying to formulate a response but couldn't quite manage coherent speech.
Norman's eyebrows rose, surprise evident on his face. "You're serious. You've actually found a woman whose father would let her marry you?"
"I hardly thought the day would arrive myself, but I've found a woman who agreed." Andrew's jaw tightened, his voice taking on a warning edge. "And Norman, if you continue to find this amusing, I'll have you written out of my will before the ink dries on the marriage certificate."
Norman's smile faded slightly, though his eyes still gleamed with barely suppressed mirth. "Easy, cousin. I meant no offense. I'm simply... surprised. Pleasantly so."
"But truly?" Norman leaned forward, his expression sobering. "You've found a woman whose father would let her marry you?"
"Yes." Andrew turned from the window, meeting his cousin's gaze directly. "That would generally be the sequence of events when one announces an engagement."
Norman's eyebrows climbed higher. "And who is this paragon of virtue willing to overlook your reputation?"
Andrew ignored the question entirely, changing the subject with deliberate abruptness. "I need you to speak with your sister. Inform her of the engagement."
"And why would I be the one to do such a thing?"
Andrew had the grace to look sheepish. "I may have requested Eleanor's assistance in finding a suitable wife and then proceeded to find one without her involvement. She's unlikely to be pleased about it."
Norman winced, his hand going to the back of his neck. "She's going to be furious, Andrew. Particularly if she's been speaking with prospective families and trying to convince their fathers to view you favorably as a potential son-in-law."
Andrew ran a hand down his face. "I know I'll never hear the end of it. Which is precisely why I need you to speak to her on my behalf. Please, spare me her wrath while I endure the trials of wedding planning."
"She merely wishes to help you," Kitty said, amusement curving her lips.
"She wishes to meddle in my affairs." Andrew shook his head firmly. "I cannot permit that at present. Not when I have secured the perfect match."
Norman gave him a skeptical look. "You've never considered any woman to be a perfect match for you. What makes you believe this particular woman is suited to you? You once told me that you preferred to love all women equally rather than shackle yourself to one."
Andrew stared out the window again, glancing up at the thick clouds drifting across the sky. He had known his past declarations would return to haunt him. If he had simply kept his opinions to himself, he wouldn't be forced to answer for them now.
Instead, he found himself bound to marry a wild, spirited woman—a fact that intrigued him more than he cared to admit. She was already beginning to soften toward him even though she refused to voice what she truly wanted.
The image of her flushed cheeks and hitched breath returned to him with startling clarity, sending heat through his veins. There would come a time, after they were wed, when she would come begging for his touch. He was certain of it.
Ideas were already forming in his mind—all the ways he might tease her, make her pliant in his very capable hands.
A soft touch on his arm pulled him from his thoughts. Kitty had risen and now stood beside him, her expression gentle. "If this is truly what you desire, then we'll support you. And Norman will inform Eleanor."
Norman made a sound of protest, but Kitty silenced him with a single look, the sort of look that spoke of years of marriage and understood communication.
Isobel came to Andrew's mind unbidden. While she was decidedly fierce—she had thrown a pillow at him, after all—he rather liked that quality in her. It might prove the source of future headaches, but she would at least be capable of holding her own in his world.
Provided, Lord Leyton wasn't present.
Andrew would need to address the manner in which she diminished herself before her father. Isobel possessed far too much spirit to allow someone as pathetic as Lord Leyton to dominate her.
Turning back to Norman, Andrew shrugged with affected nonchalance. "There's no means of knowing whether a marriage will prove a mistake until one is thoroughly entrenched in it. And at that point, it's far too late for alternative arrangements."
Norman's eyebrows drew together, disbelief still evident on his features. "And you truly believe you won't come to regret this decision? No reservations whatsoever?"
Andrew projected every ounce of confidence he could muster, despite the uncertainty churning in his gut. "None." He met Norman's gaze steadily. "This game unfolded precisely as it ought. I'm one step ahead."
Norman said nothing, but Andrew saw the warning in his cousin's eyes clearly enough, a silent message that spoke of concern and doubt.
It didn't matter whether Norman believed this marriage was wise. At the end of the day, Andrew would do what he must for his business and his reputation.
And if that meant salvaging his name by marrying a woman with a history of fleeing down the aisle in the wrong direction—well, he would chain himself to her side and drag her to the altar if necessary.