Page 37 of The Icy Duke Claims a Bride

“Come,” she urged, tugging on his forearm. “Let me introduce you to a few people. After seven Seasons, I believe I must know everyone, if only in passing. Only short conversations, I promise.”

“Very well,” he relented grudgingly and allowed himself to be steered into the crowd.

“A most propitious marriage!” Lady Farnworth beamed. “Your father must be delighted, Catherine.”

“Most propitious,” Lady Cora, her spinster sister, echoed, her voice quavering.

“Oh, yes, I’m sure he is,” Catherine said, forcing a smile and hoping she looked more relaxed than Hugh, who had the rictus grin of a showman playing Death onstage.

“There will be only Miss Jemima for him to marry off now, and then that will be a job well done,” Lady Farnworth continued. “This is her second Season, is it not? My two girls will be coming out in the next few years, and I can only pray for their success. In the marriage mart, options can be limited. So much is down to luck.”

“My sister has many options,” Catherine returned as politely as she could. “I hope Jemima takes her time and is happy with whatever gentleman she chooses.”

“One can wait too long, though.” Lady Farnworth sighed and shot her sister a slight glance. Both ladies were in their mid-fifties and had little hope that Lady Cora would marry, not evento an elderly widower or an untitled man. “Surely any husband is better than… the alternative.”

“Ah, I see an acquaintance I must speak to,” Hugh said suddenly, his eyes trained on someone across the ballroom. “You must excuse me, ladies.”

“Shall I accompany you?” Catherine asked eagerly, only too keen to escape the clutches of Lady Farnworth and her sister, and the well-trodden conversation she felt they had now had with at least five people.

While he wasn’t enjoying himself, at least Hugh seemed more comfortable in the ballroom and was no longer dealing black glares to all and sundry who made the mistake of looking in his direction. Perhaps they were making some progress in getting Society accustomed to the Duke of Redbridge and vice versa.

“No, you would be bored, Catherine,” he replied shortly. “I will leave you with these good ladies, for now.”

While irritated by this abandonment, Catherine could only watch as her grim-faced husband stalked away. She turned back to Lady Farnworth with her best attempt at an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid I must go to the ladies’ retiring room. Do excuse me.”

The retiring room, unfortunately, offered no balm to her annoyance. On the contrary, even as Catherine was relieving herself behind the discreet silk panel screen, she heard her name and title being bandied about by gossiping women in front of the mirrors.

“Of course, the Duchess of Redbridge likely knows nothing about her,” one voice said. “But the Duke of Redbridge must certainly have been apprised of her presence.”

“Did you see the way he was glaring at everyone when he first came in? I felt quite terrified!” a woman with a younger voice than the other two, perhaps a younger sister or cousin, commented.

“I heard he only accepted the invitation yesterday,” the first speaker stated confidently. “Why so late? Unless he was waiting to hear about another guest.”

“It’s a surprise, though,” the second woman added thoughtfully. “Who would have thought it? With a wife as beautiful as Catherine Wright—even if she is a little… over-ripe?”

“Like cheese!” the third, more girlish voice suggested with a giggle, and they all laughed. “But why marry Catherine at all if he prefers a face as frightening as his own?”

“One woman for public life and one for private usage.” The first speaker laughed. “If you don’t understand that, Louisa, you must ask your husband when you catch one…”

Furious but confused, Catherine waited for the three women to leave before making her way to the wash stand and frowning at her reflection in the mirror as she sought to make sense of the exchange she had overheard.

Hugh and another woman?! What could this mean? Was she to be publicly humiliated by her new husband so soon, despite his kisses and seductive promises?

Well, she could not hide in the retiring room forever. She must go out there and discover the facts for herself.

Catherine took a deep breath and struck out for the ballroom.

“Mr. Lucas,” Hugh asked, putting a hand on the arm of the amiable man currently deep in conversation with a middle-aged lady and her two giggling daughters, “may I speak with you?”

Mr. Lucas looked around at Hugh in surprise before bowing his head and then glancing apologetically at his three companions. “Your Grace, naturally. If Lady Hannah could save the dance in the third measure for me and Lady Lucinda in the fourth, then I would be a very happy man. But now, do excuse me, Lady Helburton.”

Displeased at the interruption, Lady Helburton bobbed a small curtsey as her daughters shot curious and rather wearisome glances at Hugh’s mask. He ignored them all at the expense of appearing rude.

“Is there somewhere quiet we can go, Mr. Lucas?” Hugh asked. “I’m not familiar with the layout of Lady Tarleton’s house, but this is a private family matter.”

“Alfred, please. Let’s not stand on ceremony at this late date. Come with me, old man,” Alfred Lucas said, friendly and helpful despite the fact they had not spoken for some years and Hugh had just chased away young women in whom he evidently was interested.

Alfred Lucas was several years younger than Hugh but had an air of quiet confidence that made him appear older than his years. Shorter and slimmer than the Duke of Redbridge, with a smooth face beneath his neatly clipped and pomaded chestnut hair, he had the air of an elderly schoolboy or a very sprightly old man, although he was neither of those things.

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