Page 53 of The Icy Duke Claims a Bride

“Yes, I will,” she said as brightly as she could and then fell silent again, wishing he would leave as quickly as possible.

Hugh’s presence in her bedroom tonight disturbed her in so many different ways. His proximity made her long for the comfort of his size and strength, the scent of his skin, the breadth of his chest, and the soothing beat of his heart. Tonight, she also inexplicably yearned to talk to him, to explain why her father’s announcement pained her so much.

It was unthinkable. Even more unthinkable in her present frame of mind was the idea visibly forming on Hugh’s face as he regarded her in the last light of the setting sun outside. She knew how much he liked to see her hair loose, especially around her naked breasts.

“Will you come to my bed tonight, Catherine?” he asked, the desire already roughening his voice. “I want you very much, even when you’re angry with me…”

The temptation to throw herself into her husband’s arms was strong, but Catherine resisted it.

“I can’t,” she said while desperately searching for some convincing excuse that would not require her to reveal anything more of her current emotions. “I have my monthly courses.”

“Never mind.” He sighed in resignation. “Perhaps it’s best. But you are feeling better?”

As Catherine had hoped, Hugh instantly accepted her statement and did not pursue the possibility of coupling this evening any further. She wondered how many days she might use the same excuse before he tired of hearing it or stopped believing it.

Catherine had actually lost track of her period in the upheaval of her betrothal and marriage and could not remember when she had last bled. She made a mental note to resupply her stock of rags. Mrs. Kaye would surely be able to help.

Still, Hugh was lingering, concern evident on his face.

“We could just talk if you want, Catherine. I don’t seek your company just for… I mean, I hope you don’t believe that I really think of you as a broodmare—”

“No, of course not,” she interjected quickly, not wishing to revisit that difficult interlude in the garden. “Those were foolish words only spoken because I was so shocked by the news of my father’simpending wedding. You are being very courteous, Hugh, but there is no need for further concern. I only need rest.”

Despite the doubtful expression on his face, Hugh stepped back towards the door. “Well, I hope you feel better tomorrow, Catherine. I’ll ring for someone to light your candles and draw the curtains, shall I?”

“Thank you, Hugh. Good night.”

After shutting the door behind him, Catherine closed her eyes tightly and tried to silence the racing thoughts in her head. She would try again tomorrow to come to terms with the shape of the world and her life. Tonight, it was all just too hard.

Catherine rose, washed, and dressed early the following morning, but despite her best intentions to breakfast downstairs in the dining room, the thought of her father’s impending nuptials again provoked a wave of nausea that brought her to her knees over the chamber pot.

“Is Her Grace ill?” she heard another maid ask Janey, who had come upstairs to take away the chamber pot.

“I wouldn’t know, Elsie,” Janey answered and then hurried away.

Catherine cursed the nosiness of the staff.

A few minutes later, Janey brought back a cup of steaming peppermint tea and crackers, courtesy of Mrs. Kaye, who had evidently made her own diagnosis of the situation. Catherine found that this was all she could stomach. It was well after ten o’clock before she felt like herself again and decided to go downstairs.

The front door was wide open when she reached the hallway, and she was surprised to see Hugh accompanying Lord Sedgehall and Jemima into the house.

“Your home is so beautiful, Catherine!” Jemima exclaimed, appearing even more radiantly happy than she had been the previous day. “Will you show me around?”

“But of course!” Catherine smiled, stepping forward to kiss her sister after a stunned pause. “But I wasn’t expecting you this morning.” She then turned to Lord Sedgehall. “Father.” She nodded politely but made no other attempt to engage with him.

“Come into the drawing room, Lord Sedgehall, Jemima. I’ll ring for tea. Then, Catherine can take you around the house and the grounds. My stables are at your convenience if you’d like to ride before luncheon.”

“We do have some further news for you both, Your Grace,” Lord Sedgehall announced. “You left the garden party so suddenly yesterday, and I did want to let you know—”

“More details of your impending nuptials with the Dowager Countess of Harvey?” Catherine drawled, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

“Catherine was unwell yesterday,” Hugh said quickly. “But she is much recovered today, I believe. You said that you have news, My Lord?”

“Well, it ismynews, really,” Jemima piped up, her blue eyes dancing. “Do you remember Captain Wadsworth? We are to be married!”

This news brought fresh tears to Catherine’s eyes. Jemima was still so young, and now she was to be married and suffer all the inevitable indignities of that state. Still, her younger sister seemed so happy that Catherine could only embrace her again and wish her well.

“My heartiest congratulations!” Hugh beamed. “I hope that he is a good man and that you will be very happy together, Jemima.”

---