Page 36 of The Icy Duke Claims a Bride

“We should eat.” Hugh then glanced at the dogs. “So should they, I presume. But can I invite you to continue this exploration? I will do nothing you do not want.”

Catherine affixed his mask to his face with a shy smile. “I want so much of you,” she murmured.

“And you shall have it,” Hugh promised. “In good time.”

He offered her his arm, and she took it after only a brief hesitation. Then, they proceeded together to the dining room as a married couple for the first time.

Despite a heartbeat of surprise as the Duke and Duchess entered the dining room arm in arm, Perkins moved quickly and without comment to set the Duke’s place at the head of the table. Hugh offered no explanation for his presence.

“Incidentally, it is Lady Tarleton’s ball tomorrow evening,” the Duke said to his wife as a maid began to serve the soup and a footman poured out the wine into crystal glasses. “Can I assume that you will do me the honor of accompanying me to that event? The whole ton will be there, and it is time that I introduced the Duchess of Redbridge to the world.”

“But you hate balls and social events.” Catherine frowned at this unexpected development, although he did not think she was displeased. “I knew we were invited, of course, but I assumed that you declined. I also thought we were going to stay here at Redbridge Hall until you had more answers to the poisoning incident.”

Hugh glanced briefly at the servants, careful with his words. “I do hate Society events, but I have a purpose in attending this one. Several purposes, in fact.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“The Duke and Duchess of Redbridge,” Lady Tarleton’s dignified and gray-bewigged butler announced at the entrance to the ballroom as Catherine walked through the wide doorway on Hugh’s arm.

It was an announcement that produced an immediate hush and one or two gasps from the crowd nearby. Catherine was conscious that hundreds of pairs of eyes had suddenly fixed on them from every direction. She knew that they were a striking pair, but this attention confirmed it.

Hugh was tall, dark, and somewhat ominous in his eternal jet-black suit and mask, while Catherine was arrayed in a fine white and gold silk gown gifted to her as a late wedding present by Hugh’s grandmother, courtesy of Madame Dupont’s skilled workers. Her lush dark blonde hair had been styled into ringlets, loosely held back by a delicate tiara of golden filigree and emeralds.

Telling herself that she was the Duchess of Redbridge and deserving of respect, Catherine met some of the more impudent gazes briefly and boldly before inclining her head politely to their hostess, a dazzling blonde widow of some forty years wearing a coral satin gown with a red-brown sash.

Sister to a minister and daughter of one of the wealthiest businessmen in England, Eveline Cavendish, the Countess of Tarleton, had not let the minor matter of her husband’s death five years earlier dethrone her from her spot as the ton’s foremost hostesses.

Invitations to Lady Tarleton’s events were always highly sought after. She was known for her talent of hooking the most unusual and elusive high-profile guests, including celebrated explorers, foreign royalty, and the wealthiest families in Christendom. Her personal life was faultless, and her social cachet was high enough that she had no need to worry about keeping company with unconventional people.

From the sparkle in her sky-blue eyes, Catherine guessed that Lady Tarleton regarded securing Hugh’s attendance tonight as a personal coup, despite his late confirmation. It was highly unusual for the Duke of Redbridge to accept invitations to any social events during the Season, and even Catherine was not entirely sure why he had chosen to do so tonight.

“I’m so very glad that you were able to join us this evening, Your Graces. May I also congratulate you on your recent marriage? I’m honored that you have interrupted your honeymoon to attend my humble ball.”

Hugh nodded cordially enough, and Catherine could not help but smile.

There was nothing humble about tonight’s event, from the grandeur of the mansion’s to the glittering crystal chandeliers hung with thousands of candles, or the numerous silver trays of fine champagne borne around the rooms by fleets of liveried footmen.

Lady Tarleton smiled back knowingly. “I always believe that if a thing is worth doing, it’s worth doing properly, Your Grace,” she said to Catherine before glancing at Hugh. “Although, I would not be surprised if His Grace disapproved of all this frivolity.”

“Not at all. I admire your purpose, Lady Tarleton, in all that you do.” Hugh bowed his head politely. “I would never think to call you frivolous in anything. Some of your guests, however, seem to spend their entire lives—”

“Hugh!” Catherine hissed, worried about offending their hostess.

But Lady Tarleton only laughed good-naturedly. “You have all evening and my blessing to caution all those you catch in excessive frivolity, Your Grace. I shall not defend them, so let them beware.”

Catherine was relieved when Lady Tarleton released them and moved on to the next arrivals. She knew Hugh was uncomfortable in such surroundings but determined to endure them tonight for his own reasons. Still, she hoped that his dislikefor balls would not manifest itself in berating or arguing with other guests.

“Christ!” he muttered beside her, his eyes scanning the room as though looking for someone. “I knew it would be like this. Look at them.”

He jerked his head towards the various groups of people gathered close together, speaking quietly while shooting them curious glances.

“How long since you last attended a ball, Hugh?” Catherine asked.

“Five years, and I left that one as early as I could.”

She looked around the room critically. “These aren’t all bad people, you know. Many of them are only curious about you and conventional in their outlook. When they become accustomed to your presence, they’ll stop staring.”

“Really?” he said cynically, throwing back his flute of champagne and snatching another one from a passing tray, his searching glances giving her the impression that he was searching for someone.

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