Page 37 of A Game with the Rakish Duke
“I was just showing Catherine the family,” the Dowager Duchess declared in an imperious voice. “She needs to understand the proud lineage you come from, Thomas.” Her eyes widened. “And where the portraits of your children will one day hang as well. The wall is waiting for them, my dears.” She chuckled, moving away from them.
“She knows,” Catherine hissed.
The Duke raised his eyebrows, looking amused. “What does she know?”
“She knows that we are not trying for an heir,” Catherine whispered. “The housekeeper tattled.”
The Duke shook his head incredulously. “I must hand it to her,” he said, glancing at his grandmother. “She is determined. There is nothing she cannot find out if she really wants to know.”
“She is impossible.” Catherine frowned. “How can we get her to desist? All she talks about to me is having babies! It is driving me to distraction.”
The Duke sighed. “She is old, Catherine. She wants to see the next generation before she shuffles off this mortal coil. She wants the continuation of the line. Just humor her.”
Catherine’s frown deepened. “Humoring her is not enough. I can see her always scheming. She has something up her sleeve. I just know it.”
“Probably,” he relented, smiling wryly. “But that does not mean she is going to get her way, does it?” He took a step closer to her, gazing down at her. “After all, we are both committed to the path we agreed to follow. She cannot force us to produce an heir.”
Catherine swallowed hard. Why did her nervous system always go haywire when he stepped just a little too close to her? She didn’t like it at all. Why couldn’t she stop reacting to him in this way?
It does not matter. Ignore it. It has worked, so far. Eventually, it will go away.
“I am sorry for snapping at you yesterday,” he continued in a softer tone. “Can we be friends?”
Catherine stared at him cautiously. “Just friends? That is all you want?”
He laughed ruefully. “I am sorry I have been pressing you for more. A momentary madness.” He hesitated. “It would be better if we could be friends and not at each other’s throats. At the very least, it will get my grandmother off our backs.”
Catherine gazed at him warily. “I suppose so. We can try.”
“Why are you whispering?” The Dowager Duchess was back, gazing at them expectantly. “Is there anything you wish to tell me?”
The Duke laughed. “No, Grandmother. Nothing at all.”
She nodded. “Well, that concludes the tour of the house,” she said, smiling slightly. “I must get to the kitchen to talk with Mrs. Gray. There is a lot to organize.”
The Duke frowned. “What do you mean? What are you organizing?”
The Dowager Duchess smiled. “Oh, did I forget to tell you? I am hosting a garden party here the day after tomorrow.” Her smile widened. “We may as well take advantage of this glorious summer weather while it lasts. Do you not agree?”
Catherine sighed. The Duke didn’t look happy.
“A garden party?” He frowned. “But why?”
The Dowager Duchess shrugged. “Just because I wish to do it.” She sailed away, followed by yapping dogs clamoring at her heels. “Come along, Mimi. You are waddling already, you wanton hussy!”
The Duke turned to Catherine. “I am sorry, I guess we will have to go through with it.”
Catherine sighed again. “It is only a garden party.” She looked thoughtful. “Perhaps I can invite Oliver and Beatrice. And Patrick and his wife if they are able to come.”
The Duke shrugged. “Invite anyone you like. My grandmother will commandeer the guest list as it is. I might invite some friends of my own as well.” He smiled.
Catherine’s heart flipped. Was he going to invite a certain fair-haired lady he had spoken to in the village the other day? And why had that thought suddenly lodged into her mind like an arrow, refusing to budge?
Chapter Eighteen
“Isay, this is good sport,” Oliver remarked, gazing around the gardens, taking in the marquee and guests mingling on the lawn. He turned to Catherine, his eyes shining. “Will you play a game of croquet with me? It will be like old times.”
Catherine laughed, taking her brother’s arm and gazing at him affectionately. “Oh, I have missed you, Oliver! It seems likemonthssince we last saw each other.” She gave him a dazzling smile. “Of course, I shall play a game of croquet with you.”
