Page 19 of The Icy Duke Claims a Bride

“It is an heirloom,” Hugh confirmed, opening his eyes and leaning forward to study the uniquely jewel-studded rose gold band on Catherine’s ring finger.

He took her left hand and turned it slightly so that the jewels caught the sunlight again and sparkled. Catherine held her breath at his touch, very conscious of his proximity. She wondered if this was the prelude to some rougher physical pass, but her new husband’s attention remained focused on the ring. Eventually, she exhaled and relaxed in her seat.

“The gold itself comes from some of my great-grandmother’s jewelry,” Hugh explained. “My grandfather, her son, had it melted down to make a wedding ring for my grandmother, whom you met today. He wished to give her something new but also with Redbridge’s legacy.”

“He chose the jewels, too?” Catherine inquired.

Hugh shook his head. “Grandmother chose that diamond set in the center with those tiny green sapphires around it. When my father gave the ring to my mother, they changed the setting and added the garnets because my mother loved them. That wedding ring has been rather a shared enterprise between couples.”

“Until now,” she pointed out. “I never even saw it before today.”

Hugh shrugged, his expression inscrutable, although she thought she felt a slight pressure of his hand on hers and shivered at the sensation.

“You may change the ring to your taste if you wish. It is yours until we pass it on to the next generation.”

Catherine quailed slightly at this further oblique reference to their presumably inevitable procreation, and again, she was very conscious of her hand in his. She hoped she managed to hide her nervousness sufficiently. The intensity of his blue eyes did nothing to help calm her. She felt as if she were naked. As if she couldn’t hide anything from his dark gaze. Not even the heat that was rising in her body.

“I will think about it,” she said in an even voice. “It is a fine design, but I am glad to know that I might make alterations.”

Hugh did not resist as Catherine slowly withdrew her hand and laid her palms back primly on her lap, directing her gaze there, too, so as not to meet his.

“It sounds as though there have been love matches in your family, Your Grace,” she observed.

“Indeed.” Hugh nodded. “My parents were certainly a love match. Everyone says that Father was heartbroken when my mother died. My grandparents also married for love, although I believe that Grandfather actually won his wife in a poker match first.”

“What?!” Catherine almost fell off her seat at this revelation, especially when delivered in such an utterly deadpan tone.

Her reaction made Hugh grin, and she noticed how handsome he looked when he smiled, despite the mask partially covering the right side of his face.

“Yes. Grandmother herself told me the story, so I believe it’s true. Their families were both attending a house party, and two other young dukes were also vying for her hand. The three suitors decided that they would play a game of poker to determine which of them would propose to her first.”

“So, your grandmother ended up being awarded to the winner,” Catherine commented critically, seeing only the same unfair social dynamics playing out yet again in an earlier generation.

“Not quite,” Hugh countered. “Her brother warned her of what was happening, so she went to the gaming table herself and whispered the hands of the other players in my grandfather’s ear. She had already decided to marry him, you see, and saw it as a great chance to speed things along.”

Catherine couldn’t help but smile at the steely elder lady’s way of getting what she wanted, even if that had been merely a man.

“What about your parents?” Hugh asked her, naturally enough. “Did they marry for love?”

“No,” Catherine said shortly. “I have no idea why they married at all.”

Now it was her turn to look away and close her eyes in silence.

The introduction to the servants of Redbridge Hall was as brief as the farewell to their families outside the church had been.

The butler, the housekeeper, the cooks, the maids, and the footmen had all assembled outside the grand century-old house, built on the site of an earlier Tudor mansion and a castle before that, as Hugh had explained to Catherine while helping her down from the coach.

Redbridge Hall itself was large and built of red brick and slate. The grounds were well kept, and the house managed to seemsomehow homely and welcoming despite its size. It was not really what Catherine had expected. Given Hugh’s appearance and the stories of his self-exile, she had been more prepared for a Gothic ruin with dungeons, dilapidated towers, and an overgrown garden.

“This is my new wife, Catherine Vaughan, the Duchess of Redbridge. From now on, please carry out her instructions without exceptions,” the Duke said briefly and then turned back to her. “Catherine, this is the staff of Redbridge Hall. You may ask Perkins or Mrs. Kaye for anything you require.”

That was it. The servants began to retreat swiftly, clearly expecting nothing more than this short presentation and a peek at their new Duchess. Even Hugh seemed about to move away from her once they were in the hallway. Catherine had to walk briskly after him to catch his arm.

“Where is my room, Your Grace?”

“Why, you have the suite of the Duchess of Redbridge, of course,” he answered. “It adjoins mine. Your trunks are already there.”

Eventually grasping her non-comprehension, he looked around the hallway at the remaining staff passing through. Catherine expected him to appoint a maid to show her to her quarters. Then, he seemed to change his mind and gave a resolute nod.

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