Page 16 of Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Duchess
Kate widened her eyes, feigning interest. “Pray tell me.”
“The Earl of Manchester was spotted calling upon Lady Ellington. As you know, it has not been quite four months since her husband passed. She has forsaken her mourning period,” Constance sat back, triumphant.
“Perhaps he was paying his respects,” Kate said.
“Four months late? I think not. To be fair, Lord Ellington was reputed to be ill for some time before his passing, so perhaps shemourned him before he had even left this world.” Constance’s smile was sly but held no true malice. Like her mother, she enjoyed sharing tales from London society.
A discreet cough from Mr. Scoville saved Kate from acknowledging the gossip. “Shall we retire to the sitting room?”
As they strolled to the ladies’ sitting room, Kate watched Lady Uxbridge scan the hallway where servants had been working diligently the past two days to decorate with garlands of ivy intertwined with ribbons of scarlet and gold.
“I had heard that Miss Roves was to marry the Earl of Winfield here at Renwood Castle. I must say it surprised me after the young lady and your grandson broke off their engagement. I deemed it quite inappropriate,” Lady Uxbridge said as she took a seat at the small table.
Kate’s servants had quickly laid out plates of seedcakes and fairly cakes. Kate noted with satisfaction that the cook had included a plate of finger sandwiches with some of her favorites.
“As you know, Kate and Miss Roves are quite close, but if my grandson had not given his blessing then the event would not take place here at Renwood,” the Dowager Viscountess said.
Lady Uxbridge pursed her lips into a moue at the Dowager Viscountess. “I do hope that the Viscount learned his lesson. Once one is affianced, one expects more circumspection.”
Kate’s temper blazed and she opened her mouth to protest, but her grandmother discreetly laid a restraining hand on her knee. She stifled the bile that rose in her throat at the cruel mistreatment of her brother’s honor.
“My grandson had no lesson to learn as the scurrilous lies had no foundation in the truth. You are well-acquainted with how vicious the gossip columns are when they are in want of news.” The Dowager Viscountess picked up her tea and took a dainty sip. She looked quite pleased.
Lady Uxbridge looked discomfited at the small well-placed barb. Her own son had been the subject of gossip two years ago regarding his luck at the tables and had almost lost his membership at the club. She cleared her throat. “We hope to have a wedding ourselves in the coming year.”
Constance blushed which made quite a pretty picture. “Lord Darlington has come calling. He has asked me to save a dance for him at the wedding ball.”
Kate clapped her hands. “This is wonderful news for you! I am so happy. You and Lord Darlington will make a handsome couple.”
Kate was happy for Constance. Lord Darlington was a pleasant enough fellow with a large country estate. He did have an unfortunately disagreeable laugh that brought the image of a braying donkey to mind.
They spent the rest of their visit discussing games planned for the wedding and the guests who were scheduled to attend. Astheir visit wound to an end, it struck Kate that she had less than ten days until the wedding and after Andrew’s second abrupt departure, the planning fell to her. She should feel pleased but did not.
At Devonport, Andrew prowled around the sitting room like a wild cat searching for prey. Finally, his grandmother rapped her cane on the floor.
“Will you please have a seat? You are making me ill-tempered.” She pointed to the seat next to her by the fireplace. “You did not want to help plan the wedding and have now excused yourself. Again. You should be happy.”
Andrew flung himself into the leather chair and stared into the fire. He couldn’t tell his grandmother how much Kate needled him. The last time he had complained about her, his grandmother claimed that he liked her which was complete and utter balderdash. She was a sharp-tongued wasp and as obstinate as a cat refusing a bath. He couldn’t find himself attracted to a woman like that, could he?
“Do stop sulking.” The Dowager Duchess’s voice was stern. She rapped her cane on the oak floors again causing the cat to jump up and dart out of the room.
“I am not sulking. Sulking is what children do, Grandmother, and I am certainly not that.” Andrew shifted in his seat. He should visit his mistress. Perhaps spending the night with awoman as beautiful as Baroness Rathcliff would quench his need. He leaped to his feet. “Grandmother, I am out for the evening. I shall return in time to breakfast with you in the morning.”
“Wh-what?” His grandmother sputtered, but he was already stalking out of the room.
Later in his curricle, he smiled in satisfaction. Yes, a night with the baroness would be pleasurable and help him forget the displeasure of being cast as a villain in Miss Avery’s mind. When the horse slowed to a halt in front of the Baroness’s townhome, he was surprised to find it dark. He alighted from his seat and strode to the door. He knocked and waited for an answer, but after five minutes of standing on the steps, Andrew grew embarrassed. She was clearly not home, and it was presumptuous of him to assume the baroness wiled away her hours awaiting his arrival.
Back in his curricle, Andrew found himself wondering what Miss Avery was doing at this hour. Frustrated with the direction of his thoughts, he headed for home. Alone.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, Mr. Scoville brought a note to Kate. She recognized the seal of the Duke of Devonport and frowned. His penmanship was as bold as the man himself.
“Is anything amiss?” Mr. Scoville asked.
“No, Mr. Scoville. Prepare a room for the Duke of Devonport. It appears he has decided to return this afternoon to assist in completing the wedding plans. I shall let the cook know so that she can lay an extra setting this evening.”
“Very good, ma’am.” Mr. Scoville bowed and left her alone with her thoughts.
