Page 60 of A Game with the Rakish Duke
Catherine jutted her chin. “He likes ladies, that is no secret. You have probably seen him look the same way at any number of them.” She pursed her lips. “Such as Lady Isabella.”
“Ah, but that is where you are wrong,” Kenneth said in a droll voice. “Usually, he would be looking at that lady in the way you describe, but he is not.” He paused. “The only lady he is seeing at the moment isyou, Catherine.”
“It will pass,” Catherine argued quickly, her heart giving a painful thump. “It means nothing…”
“It most definitely is not nothing,” Kenneth insisted, gazing at her pointedly. He hesitated. “My friend finds it hard to express his feelings. He has good reasons for this.”
“What are they?” Catherine missed her step, trying to hear his reply. She felt a bit ill. “He will not talk to me about such things. Can you tell me?”
She held her breath as she watched him. Unfortunately, at that moment, they separated in the dance, moving away from each other.
Catherine felt as if she were about to burst with impatience. When they finally met up again, she gazed at him imploringly.
“I wish that I could,” Kenneth said, shaking his head, “but it is not my story to tell. I am afraid that he is the only one who can tell you.”
Catherine bit her lip. She felt like shaking the gentleman until he told her what she wanted to know. But the Duke of Dunford had an implacable look on his face now. She had pushed her husband’s friend as far as he would go on the subject.
The dance ended. She gazed around. With a jolt, she realized that her husband was standing on the sidelines of the dance floor with a thunderous look on his face.
What wasthatall about?
“Whatisthe matter with you, Thomas?”
Thomas spun around. He had been lost in his reverie, watching Catherine and Kenneth dancing, the jealousy biting him like a cobra. His grandmother was standing there, leaning on her walking stick and staring at him.
“What are you talking about, Grandmother?” His voice was filled with frustration. He ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing is the matter with me at all.”
The Dowager Duchess chuckled sardonically. “You always were a terrible liar, my boy.” She cleared her throat. “Have you and your wife resolved your problems now?”
Thomas was silent.
“Ah, I see that you have not,” she sighed heavily. “For the love of our Lord, Thomas, when will you realize that she is nothing like your mother?”
Thomas bristled. “Grandmother?—”
The Dowager Duchess raised a hand in the air. “No, let me finish. If I do not speak, this will keep festering, and I will be turning one hundred before I see great-grandchildren.”
She sighed heavily, shifting her weight on the walking stick and fixing him with a steely look. “I repeat—she isnothinglike your mother. I knew your mother well, Thomas. I knew she was flighty years before she abandoned you and your father. I had my suspicions that she was going to do it.”
Thomas’s face darkened. He swore beneath his breath.
“But your wife is a different character entirely,” the Dowager Duchess continued. “I have talked with her enough and haveobserved her keenly. She has spirit and fire in her belly. She will always be a handful.” She paused. “But she is also loyal. And she will lay her heart at your feet if you only let her do it.”
Thomas shook his head vigorously. “No…”
“Yes.” The Dowager Duchess’s eyes narrowed. “You must listen to me. I have not got to this age without learning a thing or two about people. Your wife is a wonderful person, Thomas. She will never abandon you. You must stop pushing her away.”
Thomas felt sick. He ran a hand through his hair again, gazing around, desperate for an escape. He didn’t want to talk about any of this—not his fickle mother, nor his new wife, nor the abandonment that had left a gaping hole in his life and destroyed his father.
“Give her a chance,” the Dowager Duchess urged in a quiet, insistent voice. “Stop running away from it. You will be running your whole life… and for what? You will end up lonely and embittered. A shell of a man. And you will have lost your chance to start anew.”
Thomas glared at her. “You are only saying all this because you want great-grandchildren.”
The Dowager Duchess chuckled. “I must admit that I have a vested interest in seeing you a happy man, my boy,” she said, giving him a half smile. “But my main reason is foryou. I want to seeyouhappy. I want you to finally heal. Think about what I have said, Thomas.”
She turned, hobbling away, pushing through the crowd which parted like the Red Sea before her. Thomas watched her for a moment, before turning back to Catherine. The dance had ended, and she had walked away, taking a glass of champagne and sipping it with a pensive look on her face. Kenneth had vanished.
Thomas took a deep breath. At that moment, Catherine turned, looking straight at him. He felt as if he had been punched in the gut.
