Page 7 of The Icy Duke Claims a Bride

“My uncle, Edwin Vaughan, has also done a great deal to ensure good management of the estate,” Hugh admitted. “I came into the title young. My uncle and my grandmother have both done a great deal for the family.”

Lord Sedgehall’s brow creased slightly as he tried to recall the circumstances of Hugh’s succession. “Of course, you did,” he muttered after a moment of reflection. “There was that terrible fire. The whole ton was in mourning for months, as I recall.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Hugh shrugged. “I was kept at Redbridge for a long time afterwards, with physicians and nurses. I’ve never spent much time in London or out in Society.”

“Well, when you’re a married man, I’m sure that will change,” Lord Sedgehall said. “The right wife can be a great boon to a man.”

Hugh nodded in agreement. He wondered with dark amusement when his prospective father-in-law would finally get round to mentioning the matter of his scarred face.

“Do you always wear the mask?” Lord Sedgehall finally asked, as though Hugh had magically implanted the thought in his mind. “I suppose it was the fire, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, the fire. I always wear the mask in company.”

Hugh’s polite but clipped answer gave no indication of how hard his heart beat when the subject of his scarred face was raised. The marks on his face always felt like a public, undeniable brand of his guilt as the carrier of the curse that had killed his family. When people stared at him, he felt as angry as if they were publicly accusing him of murder.

To Hugh’s relief, Lord Sedgehall moved on quickly without further probing. He would not be provoked to any angry outburst this afternoon.

“Well then, I think I shall go explain all this to the ladies,” Lord Sedgehall said. “Catherine can take any initial displeasure out on me. You can then return tomorrow morning after she has had time to think the matter over and hopefully come round to the idea of being your bride and the Duchess of Redbridge. Shall we say eleven o’clock?”

There was a smile of real satisfaction on Lord Sedgehall’s face as he talked. The chance to marry off his difficult eldest daughter without having to pay a penny clearly outweighed many other considerations, including the acquisition of a reclusive son-in-law with a scarred face.

“Very well, I will come back tomorrow at eleven o’clock and will hope to formalize my betrothal with Miss Wright. I trust you will assure your daughter of my best intentions and all the privileges of her future position as my wife.”

Lord Sedgehall nodded. “You may rely on me to convey your proposal in the most favorable light, Your Grace. This marriage would clearly benefit both families and estates. While she might initially resist the idea, Catherine has the intelligence to accept this, too, I’m sure.”

“Until tomorrow, then.” Hugh bowed his farewell to Lord Sedgehall in the study.

There was nothing else left to say. He returned to the hallway, where the butler was already waiting at the front door with his coat and hat.

This call had not been a pleasant experience, by any means, but it had still proceeded better than Hugh had anticipated. He was leaving with relief and the sense of a task at least partially accomplished.

Lord Sedgehall had immediately taken his side. Persuading Catherine might require greater effort and courage, but Hugh was no coward. He was prepared to meet with resistance and overcome it with reason, reassurance, and resolve.

“I’ll see His Grace out, Elford.” An authoritative feminine voice suddenly drew him out of his reverie. “You may go.”

“Very good, Miss Wright.” The butler nodded and walked away.

Hugh was surprised when Catherine closed the front door and put a hand on his arm to draw him into a smaller sitting room off the main hallway. While shocking for an unmarried young lady of good breeding to lay hands on a gentleman, it amused Hugh, and he allowed himself to be steered by her.

“In here, please, Your Grace. I believe we need to talk. Now.”

Her long blonde hair was still hanging down her back, and her feet made no noise on the floor. Hugh realized that she had removed her shoes and was walking around in her stockinged feet as though it were perfectly normal, something he had never seen a woman do. Except perhaps Rose.

A memory of his sister making barefooted cartwheels across the front lawn of Redbridge Hall, her golden-red hair fluttering freely in the breeze, flashed in his mind. What would Rose have made of Catherine?

No, he could not allow himself to ponder that question.

“I have already fully explained my intentions to your father, Miss Wright, and we are in agreement. I believe he intends to talk to you himself before I return tomorrow. It would be best for you to comply with his wishes.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Catherine retorted immediately. “It would be best if you tell me exactly what is going on and show me basic respect by treating me like a woman of five-and-twenty rather than a child subject to my father’s will. What exactly did you and my father just agree on in the study?”

“That you should be my wife,” Hugh said simply.

He quickly realized that he had made a major error, as those few words set Catherine’s green eyes ablaze with fury.

“I will not be your wife!” she declared. “I do not intend to be any man’s wife. How dare you? I don’t even know your name.”

“I meant to say that your father and I agreed that I should propose to you, Miss Wright, and that he would support it. Believing you to be a woman of intelligence and good sense, Itrust that you will also see the benefits of such a marriage and agree to it quickly.”

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