Page 2 of The Viscount's Unwanted Bride
Amelia smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Smythe. Has George stirred?”
“Not yet, my lady. His nanny is with him if he does.” Mrs. Smythe bobbed her head respectfully and backed away.
Amelia closed the book and rose. “Shall we join Andrew and your mother?”
“I suppose we ought to.” Kate wasn’t particularly hungry, but their cook often only provided light sustenance for luncheon, so she was sure there would be something she’d enjoy.
She and Amelia wandered along the hall and down the stairs, Kate’s skirt swishing around her legs. They entered the smaller family dining room that adjoined the formal dining room. Kate’s mother, Dowager Countess Brigid Drake, was sitting on the far side of the moderately-sized, square table, and Andrew sat on the left. Amelia went straight to the chair closest to Andrew, and he stood to kiss her cheek as she reached him.
Kate’s face heated. No matter how many times she saw them display such casual affection for each other, it still made her blush. Her gut tightened as the desire for a similarly devoted relationship flashed through her, but she tamped it down and took her seat. She didn’t need a husband who adored her as Andrew did Amelia. Any gentle, kind man of means would do.
“How has everyone been this morning?” Andrew asked Amelia as he reached for a plate of cold meat and helped himself to a piece, signaling the beginning of the meal.
Kate filled her plate with cold meat and fruit along with a thick slice of bread slathered with butter. Her mother poured tea for each of them. Kate tested the temperature and waited until it cooled further to take a sip.
“I’ve decided to marry this season,” Kate said, repeating what she’d told Amelia earlier. “It’s time.”
Andrew’s reddish eyebrows drew together. “Very well, Kate, but please remember that there’s no rush. You may take your time to ensure you secure the best match for yourself.”
Kate speared meat with a fork, stuffed it into her mouth, and chewed, trying to ignore a flare of irritation. They were all acting as if she could dillydally to her heart’s content and it wouldn’t impact them, but that wasn’t the case. The longer she took, the more strain it would put on the rest of the household. Seasons were not inexpensive.
“I’ve already told her as much,” Amelia said, saving Kate from responding.
“Good,” Andrew replied, sitting back and watching Kate for a long moment before returning his attention to his meal.
The remainder of luncheon passed uneventfully. When everyone had finished, Kate returned to her room and summoned her maid, Margaret, who helped her dress in a pelisse to stay warm. She and Margaret took the stairs back down, exited through the front door, and took the family’s carriage to visit her friend, Lady Sophie Carlisle.
While this was Kate’s second season, it was Sophie’s first. She was a year younger than Kate, but they’d met when Sophie’s sister had married Andrew’s best friend.
Kate knocked on the door.
The butler opened it and gave her a tiny smile. “Shall I see if Lady Sophie is available?”
“Yes, please.”
A moment later, he returned and escorted Kate and Margaret to the drawing room. Sophie had been sitting on a padded chair near the fireplace. She bounced to her feet, her ginger hair flying, and hugged Kate.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Sophie exclaimed. “I’m excited for our ball tomorrow.”
Both Kate and Sophie had been invited to attend the Earl of Wembley’s annual ball, usually the first significant event of the season. They’d come together as soon as they started receiving invitations to coordinate which events they most wanted to attend.
“Do you know what you’ll be wearing?” Kate asked as she followed Sophie to a pair of chairs. She glanced at her maid. “Margaret, you may visit with your friends if you wish.”
There really was no point in her lingering when Kate wouldn’t need her for anything, and she knew that Margaret was close with some of the maids in the Carlisle household.
Margaret curtsied. “Thank you, my lady,” she said and excused herself.
A maid entered with a tray of tea and delicate little cakes. She set it on the table and withdrew. Sophie poured them each a cup of tea and added sugar to her own. Like one of her older sisters, she had a sweet tooth.
“My mother has had a dress made for me with the most abominable ruffles,” Sophie said, helping herself to a piece of cake and popping it into her mouth. “If not for the green trim, it would be completely intolerable. I don’t know why she thinks I need so many ruffles but there was no dissuading her.”
Kate grimaced. She was lucky that her mother, while interested in fashion herself, wasn’t overbearing in her opinions. She guided Kate, letting her know what criteria to work within, such as the pastel shades she had been stuck with last season,but she still let Kate choose what she preferred within those parameters.
Sophie, it seemed, was not so lucky.
“It’s nice that she cares,” Kate offered, unsure what else to say.
Sophie snorted. “She still feels guilty for treating Emma like an afterthought, especially after she ended up being one who secured a duke, so she’s determined not to do the same with me. You’re right, it’s nice that she’s invested in my season, but I do wish she’d allow me a little more say in some matters.”
