Page 29 of The Icy Duke Claims a Bride

“There’s no need for that on my account, and not just due to the talk of poisoning in the house. I ate breakfast not an hour ago and did not come here for tea. No, I came by only to see how the two of you are faring in married life.”

Rebecca’s cool blue eyes looked straight at Catherine and seemed to see easily past all possible evasions and prevarications she might make.

“We are… as you find us,” Catherine stammered.

“Hugh outside, conducting a cat’s funeral, and you in here, talking about poisoning? I had hoped that marriage and a wife’s influence would render my nephew’s behavior a little more conventional, but this is not quite how I or the ton would expectto find the Duke and Duchess of Redbridge spending their honeymoon.”

“We did not expect to find poison in his drink either,” Catherine pointed out, unwilling to accept even this slight implication that she was already failing as Hugh’s wife.

“Hugh’s drink, you mean?” Rebecca asked, now shocked more than disapproving. “I thought you said someone tried to poison the cat.”

“I smelled the poison in Hugh’s drink and threw the glass before he could touch it,” Catherine explained. “The cat licked up the mess and was dead within a quarter of an hour.”

“You’re saying that someone tried to poison the Duke of Redbridge rather than the cat? It couldn’t have been a mistake?”

“I have been here for less than a week, but I believe that Hugh is the only one who drinks a rum toddy at eleven o’clock each morning. I smelled bitter almonds in the drink and recognized the smell immediately. The gamekeeper agreed that the cat showed symptoms of cyanide poisoning, and one of the maids who cleared up the mess has confirmed that she smelled bitter almonds, too.”

The Dowager Duchess considered Catherine’s explanation thoughtfully before nodding to her. “I am going to choose to believe you, although many would write you off as a hysterical woman on account of such a wild claim. You must be careful not to repeat it to anyone you might not trust. I know your familywell enough to know that there is no mental illness in your line. But what does Hugh think?”

“I have no idea,” Catherine replied. “He has not spoken to me since it happened.”

“Then you must make him speak about it. This is a very serious matter and could have ended in tragedy if it had not been for your quick thinking. A second attempt might be made on his life, and this cannot be ignored.”

“Tell me how to make your grandson listen, and I will speak to him,” Catherine said rather boldly. “I have asked him to eat dinner with me, invited him to come to town with me, and suggested that we call on neighbors together. Currently, he chooses not to listen.”

“You do not need to say more on that subject. I know my grandson, and I see how it is between you,” Rebecca stated coolly. Catherine thought that she might have overstepped the mark, but then the silver-haired woman smiled. “You would never have married without that contract, would you? But now, here you both are, and I believe you will make the best of it.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Catherine smiled back, polite but self-conscious. “We still do not know one another.”

“In the biblical sense or any other, I suspect,” Rebecca observed. “Never mind. It is only as I expected, at this point. Believe me, the two of you are actually very well-matched. I would not have endorsed your marriage if this were not the case.”

“Did you not approve of the agreement between our families when your husband drew it up?”

“Did I approve? Ha! Do send for that tea, after all. I’d like to tell you a story about family weddings while Hugh is finishing that ridiculous ceremony in the rose garden…”

The Dowager Duchess was an excellent storyteller, and Catherine quickly became engrossed in the tale of how the document that precipitated her marriage to Hugh had come to be.

“So, the next morning, I came downstairs and found them passed out in the dining room, spilled ink and wine all over my mahogany table. Perhaps you observed the dark red stain on the document? No? Finest burgundy. Terrible waste, but never mind… Anyway, my husband and your grandfather were in a disgraceful state. I read that document and then poured a jug of water over their heads.”

Catherine gasped and then laughed.

“Yes, that woke them up,” Rebecca continued. “At first, they could barely remember the previous evening, never mind the details of what they’d agreed on while in their cups. When I made them re-read the document and told them that it had no legal value, they still seemed to think that it was a fine idea and that their descendants might find it useful. I only hoped that they were right.”

“My grandfather didn’t even have daughters or granddaughters twenty-five years ago,” Catherine noted. “His eldest son had died, and my father was already married.”

“Still, old Sedgehall had hopes for the future, and your mother was already pregnant with you when the document was written. They couldn’t have known whether you would be a boy or a girl, but my husband had two sons, two grandsons, and a granddaughter. There were ample opportunities for a future marriage.”

“What I don’t understand is how we never knew about the document until Hugh brought it to my father’s house. My grandfather never talked about it at all, as far as I know.”

“The agreement was put away in a drawer after that night and was forgotten for years by everyone. If my maid hadn’t done a particularly thorough spring cleaning this year, we might never have found it. When my grandson announced his determination to marry, I was glad to have it in my possession. I could not have him marrying someone unsuitable or foolish. He needed a wife like you.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Catherine said carefully, not wanting to give the formidable old lady any indication that she would rather not have married her grandson or anyone else.

“Now, I mentioned family marriages in the plural earlier, didn’t I? There was another reason I was initially opposed to that arrangement. Your grandfather had already made a mistake by matching your parents, and I thought he was setting himself upto make the same error all over again, but this time involving my own descendants.”

At this casual reference to her parents’ marriage, Catherine felt as though all the breath had been knocked out of her, leaving only enough for a single word.

“What?!”

---