Page 39 of A Game with the Rakish Duke
“Here I am,” she declared in a high-pitched voice. She stepped closer to him and the lady, fixing her eyes on her. “I do not think we have had the pleasure of being introduced.”
The Duke coughed into his hand. “Catherine, this is Lady Isabella Lyndon. My wife, the Duchess.”
“Your Grace,” Lady Isabella said in a prim voice, bobbing a curtsey. “It is an honor.”
“Indeed,” Catherine replied in a haughty voice. “You live locally, Lady Isabella?”
She studied the fair-haired lady more carefully. Lady Isabella reallywasbeautiful with a heart-shaped face, snub nose, and wide, disarming blue eyes. Her complexion was flawless.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Lady Isabella replied, smiling prettily. “My family resides on the other side of the village.”
“How perfectly charming,” Catherine said, returning the smile. “Do you go to London often?”
“Oh no, Your Grace,” Lady Isabella replied with a slightly condescending smile. “My father, the Earl of Farquar, likes to stay in the country. He believes that London Society shall surely ruin me.” She laughed.
“Well, that is a bit unfortunate for you,” Catherine said tightly. “How shall you manage to find a husband here? There is so much more scope in the city. That is, if youaretrying to find a husband, of course. I should not assume.”
Lady Isabella’s cheeks turned pink. “Of course, I am trying to find a husband, Your Grace. That is the goal of every lady, is it not?”
“Not necessarily,” Catherine replied airily. “Some ladies prefer to flirt with whatever gentleman they can and never commit until they are forced to do so.” She let out a bark of laughter, fixing her with a hard stare. “I suppose they must hone their skills somewhere.”
Lady Isabella’s blush deepened. She looked a little shamefaced. Catherine felt a rush of triumph. So, she hadn’t been imagining it— Lady Isabellahadbeen flirting shamelessly with her husband.
Just because she is flirting with him doesn’t mean that he is flirting with her as well. Or that anything is going on between them at all.
She ignored the small voice in the back of her head. Of course, he was flirting with Lady Isabella as well, if not more. What gentleman could resist a beautiful lady such as Lady Isabella,who was practically throwing herself at his feet? Especially a gentleman with a reputation for liking the ladies a little too well?
Why do you care? You are going to lead separate lives. What does it matter if he flirts or carries on with a dozen or more ladies?
Catherine took a deep breath. It didn’t matter. She had proved her point to herself, and now, she needed to leave before she said anything more that she might live to regret.
“Well, it was perfectly lovely meeting you, Lady Isabella,” she said, smiling politely. “I must continue circulating. I hope you have a lovely time.”
Lady Isabella curtseyed again. Catherine could feel the Duke looking at her in an odd way. She flashed him a dazzling smile before walking away, her heart beating uncomfortably in her chest.
“Who is that talking to your husband?” Patrick asked when she joined her friends and brother again, staring at the Duke and Lady Isabella.
“Her name is Lady Isabella Lyndon,” Catherine replied, trying to keep her voice neutral. “She lives locally. Her father is the Earl of Farquar.”
Patrick raised his eyebrows. “Your husband and Lady Isabella seem… close. I noticed it immediately. Are they old friends?”
Catherine’s heart flipped. “I really have no idea.”
Patrick looked pained. “A leopard does not change its spots, does it? Even if the leopard has only been wed less than a week.” He stared at her. “I did try to tell you, Cathy, but you refused to listen to me. The Duke of Newden is well known for such things.”
Catherine’s stomach tightened. “You do not know anything about my husband’s acquaintance with Lady Isabella, Patrick. You are making assumptions, which is hardly fair.”
“Am I?” Patrick looked unconvinced. “I guess we shall see, will we not?”
Catherine felt a flash of anger, and she turned away from him. She had no idea why she felt so furious with Patrick for pointing out something that she had been thinking herself after all. And yet, she did.
Against her will, her eyes drifted back to her husband’s circle. Lady Isabella was chatting with his other friend now. The Duke of Dunford and the red-haired lady were still chatting animatedly, but her husband was standing to the side, sipping his champagne, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Suddenly, their eyes met across the marquee. Catherine felt a frisson snake down her spine. Hastily, she looked away.
“Let us play croquet, Cathy,” Oliver suggested, interrupting her thoughts. “You promised me, remember?”
Catherine took a deep breath. “Yes, I did.” She linked her arms with her brother. “Come on, then!”
