Page 15 of Dueling with the Duke
Bridget wished she could stay in bed all day, but that was not an option. Still, she remained in bed far longer than necessary in the hope of missing breakfast and not having to face the Duke.
She did not mind the banter, and it had been enjoyable to mentally spar with him, but after the incursion of her father, the day had been ruined, and she knew the slightest quip from the Duke would set her off. She would rather keep the peace for the sake of her sister.
Finally, she got out of bed and ventured out into the main house. She glanced at the breakfast room from afar and saw the maids cleaning up. That brought her some relief, even if she was hungry. She could hold on until lunch and have a larger portion.
Someone touched her back, and she jumped. She whirled around, ready to fight with the Duke, only to find her mother standing before her.
“Where have you been?” Penelope asked. “I was beginning to get worried. I was about to send a maid to rouse you.”
“I must have been tired,” Bridget said.
“And you are jumpy. Are you feeling well?” Penelope asked.
“I am feeling fine.”
Penelope placed a hand on Bridget’s forehead, and Bridget had to push her mother’s hand away gently.
“I am fine,” Bridget claimed.
Physically, she was, but she was not sure about mentally or emotionally.
“Well, I have tried to calm your sister, but she is a little angry that you skipped breakfast. She thinks it might be some form of protest, and she won’t tell me how she has reached that conclusion.”
“Where is she?” Bridget asked.
“In the drawing room,” Penelope replied. “His Grace and Lord Michael have gone into town for the afternoon, and the Dowager Duchess is sitting on the veranda with a book.”
“And Father?” Bridget asked.
Penelope sighed and shook her head. “I assume he is still sleeping in a guest room at east wing of the house. I tried to put him as far away from everyone as possible, but I know he will have forgotten everything I said to him last night by the time he wakes up.”
“I will talk to him,” Bridget said.
“It is not your problem to solve,” Penelope told her daughter.
“Neither should it be yours. Why don’t you go and relax like the Dowager Duchess, and I will take care of it for now?”
Penelope looked anguished. Her shoulders slumped, the fatigue catching up with her. She could only nod her head. Bridget patted her mother on the shoulder and then went off to find her sister.
Let’s deal with one problem at a time.
Bridget was glad the Duke was off the estate, and it eased some of her stress. She looked into the drawing room and saw her younger sister sitting at a table and folding paper.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Good afternoon,” Margaret replied sarcastically.
“I was tired,” Bridget explained.
“Is this to do with His Grace?”
Bridget felt her eyes widen. It was all to do with the Duke—or mostly to do with him.
“No, it has nothing to do with His Grace.”
“I know something is going on. You were acting very strangely yesterday, Bridget. Did he say something to you? Should I have Lord Michael talk with him? Oh, do I have to put the wedding on hold?”
Bridget went quickly to her sister, trying not to laugh. “Margaret, stop this nonsense. Nothing is going on, and the wedding will not be delayed. I am here to make sure everything goes ahead as planned. I thought yesterday was wonderful, and I am looking forward to another amazing day. And seeing as your betrothed and his brother are both out, we can spend some quality time together.”
