Page 73 of The Duke and the Unwanted Bride

“It is needed,” she pushed rightly. “And it is smart. With everything that has happened recently—concerning my aunt, I mean—I think we should make amends, and inviting her over for dinner is a sure way to do that. We don’t want to look petty.”

She could see Frederick struggling to contain his anger in front of his daughter.

“Again, I think this is something we should discuss in?—”

“Furthermore, it will give everyone a chance to see how far our marriage has come.” She took his hand again and squeezed it, looking into his eyes, making sure he saw the point she wastrying to make. “And that those nasty rumors were just that, rumors. Isn’t that what you want, after all?”

“I…” Frederick clenched his jaw, forced a smile for Amelia, and then looked at Hannah. “The timing is queer. Perhaps if we wait a few weeks and?—”

“No, no,” Hannah spoke over him, taking a little too much pleasure in the way it made him stiffen. “I insist we do it tomorrow night. I mean… this is my home too, is it not? I should be allowed to host a dinner party?” She chuckled as if it were a joke. “Unless there is a good reason that I cannot? Is there, Frederick? Surely, you would not begrudge me that?”

It was a nasty trick, but it spoke to Hannah’s desperation… and annoyance at her husband.

Knowing that Frederick hated the gossip that had surrounded their marriage, and his desperation for it to stop, a forced social setting like this one meant that he would have no choice but to display his affections. Furthermore, with her sisters and their husbands in attendance, he might see what a happy marriage looked like, the boon of bearing children and starting a family, as she knew both her sisters and their husbands were beyond besotted with their children.

And also, perhaps most importantly, he needed to be reminded that she wasn’t to be walked over and treated like an ‘other’ in this house. They were married. This was her home, too. And it would be that way from now on until her dying breath.

“It will give me something to do today,” Hannah continued triumphantly. “Seeing as you are away all day, that is. You don’t want me growing bored and complacent, do you? After all, a wife needs ways to fill out her day.”

Frederick looked at her ruefully, for surely, he could see what she was doing. The protest. The denouncement of the power he tried to wield over her. The announcement that this marriage wasn’t going to be on his terms only.

“Sounds like a wonderful idea,” he said carefully, keeping his anger at bay. “As you said…” He narrowed his eyes at her quickly, then gave her a smile. “This is your home too, and I would hate to begrudge you that.”

“Thank you, dear.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, which he accepted without hesitation.

Did Hannah want to raise a family? Did she want this marriage to be more than it was? She decided right then and there that she did. And while she suspected that Frederick was hoping to ignore what had happened last night, slowly letting things settle and then returning to how things had been, she needed to let him know that such fancies were not an option.

Consequences be damned.

Chapter Twenty-One

The dinner party got off to a very awkward start.

Hannah had tried to organize the arrival of her guests so that her sisters and their husbands would be the first to arrive, providing a much-needed buffer for when their aunt and their father were in the same room together. But for reasons that she would learn later—a sick child, and a horse that had thrown a shoe—her sisters ended up arrivinglate.

That left Hannah and Frederick to entertain her aunt Teresa, her cousin Selina, and her mother and father alone.

Upon their arrival, the two parties were directed to the drawing room for pre-supper drinks and what Hannah hoped to be some light conversation. She sat on a sofa with Frederick, making sure to hold his hand and stay close. Her mother and father sat on the sofa beside them, while her aunt and cousin sat directly across from them.

Close quarters. Father and aunt sitting opposite. Brandy flowing. The fire crackling. In hindsight, it was always going to be tense.

“This is delicious brandy,” her father said awkwardly, raising his glass and then taking a sip. “Where is it from? If you do not mind my asking.”

“Northern France,” Frederick answered. He had been quiet all evening, contemplative and very clearly not having as good a time as he might.

“Ah…” Lord Ramsbury nodded in understanding and waited for an explanation, but got none, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “You will have to give me the name of your supplier.”

“Gladly.”

“I thought you were cutting back on the drink, Phineas,” Teresa said politely. “We all know how you get when you have one too many.”

Lord Ramsbury narrowed his eyes at her. “Not that it is any of your business, Teresa, but I have made strides in that department. This here is my first drink in…” He turned to look at his wife. “How long has it been, dear?”

“Two weeks,” Lady Ramsbury said, taking his hand and squeezing it as if in warning. “And you have done very well.”

“Ah, but that is the way of it, is it not?” Teresa sighed as if she truly cared. “It starts off as just one, and the next thing you know, we’re being forced to carry you out the door. I think we all remember what happened two years ago at Christmas.” She tittered.

“That was not—” ’Lord Ramsbury bit his tongue, taking a calming breath. “I had food poisoning.”

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