Page 50 of Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Duchess
The Viscount of Surry wiped his mouth. In a quiet voice, he asked, “Do you think Miss May DeClancy would entertain the thought of me courting her?”
“I don’t think you stand a chance with her, my friend,” Andrew answered before Kate could form words.
The Viscount cast his gaze down to the other end of the table and considered it. “I suppose you are right. I fear she is much too outspoken for polite society.”
“She is,” Kate agreed. “Which makes her absolutely perfect.”
The breakfast was almost finished when Mr. Scoville came in bearing a note. It was addressed to Andrew, but Kate recognized the writing on the envelope.
“It’s from Nicholas!” she exclaimed.
Andrew handed it to her without opening it. “You read it.”
Kate broke the seal and read the neat handwriting that she knew so well.
Dearest sister Kate,
I hope you are not too vexed with me for eloping with Julia. Life is much too short to not spend it with the one you love. And I love her, Kate. I love Julia so much that my heart aches at the thought of not having her as my wife. We married this morning as soon as we could wake up a curate to perform the ceremony. We plan to travel for a few weeks to allow the gossips to have their say far from our ears. When we return, I pray a new tidbit of gossip will allow us to build our lives in peace.
I hope you will allow me to give you a piece of advice. You are usually very smart about most things, but when it comes to love, you are not quite so well-versed. Love doesn’t live within the pages of your novels. It doesn’t come from fancy words or declarations from rose-strewn balconies. It comesfrom actions. From small gestures. From acceptance of both your good and your bad. I may be wrong, but I think there is someone who has demonstrated all those things if only you and he could see it. Perhaps in time, you will.
Give Grandmama my love and tell her not to be too angry. I shall see you in a fortnight.
With love, Nicholas
Kate wept tears of happiness. At Andrew’s questioning look, she said, “They married this morning.” She thrust the note at him so that she could wipe her eyes. To the rest of the guests, she said, “My brother and Miss Roves married this morning.”
“It’s about time. They should have married long ago,” Lady Uxbridge said.
Finally, the guests finished their breakfast and departed to their respective bedchambers to nap. A ball had been planned for Julia and Harry’s wedding and would still take place that evening. Additional guests from nearby estates would attend. Kate allowed May and Viola DeClancy to take over the arrangements, surprised by their generosity.
Eliza Chambers pulled Kate aside from the well-wishers and said, “I hope Nicholas and Julia will be happy.”
“They will be,” Kate said. “But what about you, my dear Miss Chambers? Your father will force you to marry, and you will be miserable.”
Eliza shook her head. “I have accepted a position as a governess for Lady Uxbridge’s widowed brother. The woman is a terrible gossip, but she has a tender heart. Her brother lives somewherein the wilds of Scotland. It will be cold, dark, and miserable, but I will be unattached and blissfully happy. I leave shortly, so I’m afraid I will miss the ball this evening.”
“I am sorry that we will not have a chance to become better acquainted.” Kate hugged her. “Good luck, Miss Chambers.”
“And to you, Your Grace,” Eliza hugged her back.
Andrew grabbed her hand and pulled her away. “We should rest before the ball this evening.”
His blue eyes smoldered and Kate blushed. She knew he had no plans to rest. He led her upstairs to her bedchamber. Sally tried to follow behind to assist her, but Andrew gave her a warning look and Sally laughed and scurried away.
“I think I’ve demonstrated that I can undress you quite well myself, wouldn’t you say, wife?” Andrew’s voice was husky.
Kate gave him a haughty look. “I shall insist on having all my needs met, husband.”
He tugged her close and growled, “You aren’t going to bend easily to my will, are you?”
Kate reached up and cupped his jaw with her hand. “Never.”
He leaned down and captured her lips with his own. He lifted his head and said, “You are more than a wilting wallflower. You are spice and fire mixed with a hint of honey.”
Kate pressed herself against him. “Is this a bad thing, Your Grace?”
Andrew tugged the tie of her dress, then lifted it over her head. She reciprocated by unbuttoning his coat and removing it before flinging it on the chair. “You will make the maid quite cross-throwing things about the bedchamber.”
