Page 45 of Wedded to the Ruthless Duke

“I never jest.” Aaron shook his head.

“What do you think of her?” Philip asked, somewhat eager for his friend’s opinion. When Aaron’s eyes raked down Grace’s figure, Philip regretted asking. “I don’t want to hearthosethoughts, Aaron.”

“Calm yourself,” Aaron said with a small smile. “She’s yours now.”

Not quite yet.

He had to get her alone first for that.

“I like her,” Aaron said after a minute or so. “Strong, willful, witty. She’ll suit you. Shame about the cousin.”

“The cousin?” Philip muttered. “You’ve spoken to Lady Tabitha?”

“You could say that.”

“What do you mean by that, Aaron? Do you not like her?”

“Not at all.” Aaron chose not to elaborate anymore. “You chose the finer of the two, though, I’ll say that.” He turned away. “I see your mother is enjoying herself greatly.”

Philip’s eyes turned to his mother. She had rarely been seen out in public since she had lost her husband, preferring instead to be tucked away in the country estate they had in Dorset. Today, though, she looked very merry indeed.

“I haven’t spoken to her in years. I shall pay my respects to her for her loss.”

“Thank you, Aaron,” Philip said woodenly as his friend stepped away.

Philip’s eyes slid back to Grace when he saw exactly why her mother had approached her with such purpose. Grace had been given a slice of the wedding cake on a plate. She had the fork halfway to her lips when her mother snatched the fork from her hand.

Eleanor was so amazed that she tried to take the fork back but with little success. Next, the plate was taken from Grace’s grasp too.

That demon which had been slumbering in his chest over the wedding breakfast suddenly raged to life. It was breathing fire now as he glowered at Lady Garton.

Putting down the empty glass that was still in his grasp, Philip crossed the room toward his bride and her mother.

“Lady Garton,” Eleanor was saying pleadingly, “it’s her wedding day. When else can she enjoy her wedding cake?” She took the plate out of Lady Garton’s hand. “Grace, eat.”

“You shall not eat.” Lady Garton took it back again. “Look at you. Look at the display you are making of yourself. How could you do this to the dress we arranged for you? You have butchered it,” she seethed under her breath, no idea that Philip was now so close, he could hear every word. “Every shameful part of your figure is on show.”

“Shameful?” Philip cut in just as Grace parted her lips to say something. As he halted behind her, Grace jerked her head around to look at him. “I thought I told you I would not stand for you to talk about my wife like that, Lady Garton.”

He extended his hand toward Grace. She didn’t take it at first, apparently too dumbstruck.

“Dance?” he said huskily. She nodded then placed her hand in his.

CHAPTER15

“Your mother,” the Duke mumbled angrily under his breath.

“She has a habit of getting under everyone’s skin. Don’t let her do that to you too.” Grace scurried to keep up with him as he marched purposefully toward the dance floor. As the music changed, they stepped onto the floor to join the other dancers.

Grace stumbled a little to which his eyes widened, but he caught her around the waist. The way he took hold of her, as if she was as light a feather, made her quite breathless.

Struggling to find her voice, she let the Duke lead her into the opening movements of the waltz.

“If you wish to eat cake, you eat it, Grace. You understand?” he said, his voice quite determined and resilient. “Remember that freedom I promised you? Well, it is yours now.”

Grace smiled. A strange warmth was spreading through her chest, not just because of his words but because he had come to dance with her at all. She’d feared he would ignore her for the whole wedding breakfast. His hand on her waist shifted a little, moving around to her back, so that she danced an inch closer to him than before.

This near, she could smell the cologne he liked to wear. That vanilla and pine scent bled into her, making her remember everything they had experienced in that carriage together.

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