Page 31 of A Game with the Rakish Duke
“It is nothing, dearest,” she replied before taking a deep breath and turning to Beatrice. “Nothing at all. I am simply tired, that is all.”
“Are you sure?” Beatrice was looking at her closely. “You seem overwrought, Cathy. I noticed it at the dinner table as well. Are you still feeling a little ill?”
“That must be it,” Catherine said quickly, flashing her a small smile. “I shall probably retire early this evening if you do not mind.” Then her smile widened. “I am so happy you called and then let me persuade you to stay the night. You are a jewel, Bea.”
Beatrice leaned over, patting her hand. “I was happy to do it. Miss Vickers needed a little persuasion, but she agreed in the end.” She glanced at her companion, who was sewing in a corner of the drawing room, then back at Catherine. “When are you returning to London?”
“In four days,” Catherine replied, rubbing her neck. She felt as tense as a high wire at a circus. “The Dowager Duchess, my husband’s grandmother, is coming here tomorrow to stay a few days…” she trailed off.
The gentlemen had returned. Catherine tried not to look at them as they walked into the room, chatting together, but then she couldn’t resist. It was as if her eyes had a mind of their own.
She started. Her husband was staring at her, a quizzical look on his face. Hastily, she turned away, her heart thumping hard in her chest.
He could talk to any lady he liked. It had nothing to do with her. An agreement had been made. So what on earth was wrong with her?
Chapter Fifteen
“Are you all right?” The Duke lowered his voice, glancing at Catherine as they walked together down the hallway towards their chambers. “You were awfully quiet in the drawing room after dinner. Are you truly feeling unwell?”
Catherine glanced at him warily. She hadn’t wanted to walk with him to their chambers, but he had insisted. The Duke of Dunford had left a half hour ago, and Beatrice was already ensconced in a guest chamber in a separate wing of the house.
“I am fine,” Catherine said, snapping just a little. She took a deep breath. “Honestly, I am just tired. That is all.”
“I like what you have done with your gown,” he admitted, his eyes flicking towards her bodice. “And your hair.”
Catherine blushed. She had forgotten she had ordered her maid to remove the lace on the bodice of the gown. It had been aspontaneous decision, and it had taken Jean only five minutes to unstitch the lace. The gown just hadn’t looked right to her anymore. Was it too prim and stuffy?
It was the same with Catherine’s hair. She had seen a similar style on a lady she had admired at a ball some time ago but had thought it too dramatic for herself. Tonight, however, she had decided to try it. It was always good to change things from time to time, wasn’t it?
“Thank you,” she said, forcing a smile on her face, feeling a stab of pleasure at his compliment that she tried to suppress.
“Catherine…” The Duke suddenly reached out and took her hand in his own. “I am sorry for teasing you about those ladies over dinner.” He smiled ruefully. “I got a bit carried away. You looked so affronted by the thought of me chatting with them that I just could not resist…”
Catherine stiffened, her heart racing, and she pulled her hand away. “What are you talking about? I was not affronted!” She scoffed. “That is rather presumptuous of you to think so.”
He stared at her. “Oh, you do not have to be like that,” he said, with a half-smile. “I could tell you were jealous…”
“Jealous?” She stopped walking, her gaze fixed on him. “I was not jealous! Why would I be jealous? That would mean I feel something for you… which I most assuredly do not.”
“You feel nothing?” He took a step closer to her, gazing down at her, studying her face. “Nothing at all?”
A shiver ran down her spine. She took another step back.
“You feel something for me?” Her heart was beating hard. “Is that what you are telling me?”
His eyes flickered. “Of course, I do,” he said in a low voice. “You are so beautiful. A man would be a fool not to see your beauty and respond to it.” He hesitated. “I want you, Catherine. So much…”
Catherine felt an answering throb within her. Desperately, she tried to repress it, remembering the way he had gazed at the lady who had dropped the handkerchief that day. He was a rake who felt desire for many women. It wasn’t anything special, and she couldn’t afford to get swept away by it.
“That is a pity,” she returned, trying to keep her voice even. “Because you know the terms of our agreement. You agreed to them. We both did.”
“Could we not suspend our agreement… for just one night?” He stared at her closely.
Catherine gaped at him. “You wish to suspend the agreement for one night? And after that, you will never suggest we do such a thing again?”
He nodded mutely. “Yes.”
She barked out a derisive laugh. “What kind of a fool do you take me for?” She glared at him witheringly. “I will do no such thing. The agreement stands. We both know the reasons we married.”
