Page 28 of Married to a Wicked Duke
All right, yes, she had to admit that sometimes her methods could be a little underhanded, but that was only because she cared so much about her granddaughters’ security and happiness. Besides, she was only helping things along. Expediting the process, as it were. When she had caught Veronica and Frederick entangled up against the oak tree, he may not have yet besmirched her honor, but Pippa had the distinct feeling that he had been moments away from doing so. Those two clueless children could protest all they liked, but Pippa knew deep down, that there was a part of them that was happy to have married one another.
She raised her third glass of champagne—or was it her fourth? She had rather lost count—up towards Carla, the Dowager Duchess, one of her dearest friends in the world. “Well, my darling, I think you and I are to be congratulated.”
Carla looked around the ballroom of Brownwood Manor, today filled with white-clothed tables and elaborate floral displays for Veronica and Frederick’s wedding breakfast. Carla had truly outdone herself; it had been a lavish celebration, befitting the marriage of a duke and duchess. Pippa had probably had alittletoo much to drink. And she had definitely had too much to eat. She was glad she had instructed her maid to tie her stays loosely this morning, in anticipation of the Brownwoods’ banquet.
Most of the guests had left now, leaving only family in attendance. Servants were bustling around the room, collecting the endless array of empty plates and glasses, while Patch was snuffling around beneath the table in search of scraps. Veronica and her sisters were chatting together at the end of one of the tables, while Frederick and Gemma’s husband Wyatt seemed to be putting the world to rights over glasses of brandy. The Earl was chasing Gemma and Wyatt’s son James around the room. He grabbed hold of the boy before he teetered over on his unsteady little legs and flung him over his shoulder to howls of laughter from James.
Pippa sighed inwardly as she watched the two of them. She knew that somewhere deep inside, Mark Caster really did have the ability to be a good father and grandfather. He had shown as much today, turning up at the church this morning as close to sober as she had seen him in ages. If only that side of him weren’t so often hidden behind an ocean of liquor…
Carla took another large mouthful of champagne and hiccupped promptly. Pippa gave a snort of laughter. “You are right, my dear, we are to be congratulated,” said the Dowager Duchess. “I think our grandchildren will truly be happy together.”
Pippa smiled to herself. It would take some time, perhaps, for the Duke to warm to his new role as a husband. But she remembered Frederick Barnes as a young man, so warm and full of life. And if there was anyone in the world who could find that man again, it was her dear Sunshine.
She reached down and grabbed Patch from the floor, snuggling into his wiry fur for a moment. Her eyes widened. “We ought to dance,” she said suddenly. She leaped to her feet, suddenly full of energy, tucking the dog under her arm. She grabbed hurriedly at her chair when the floor seemed to tilt beneath her.
Dancing, yes! Why did I not think of that before?
With her free hand, she tugged Carla to her feet.
The Dowager Duchess cackled loudly. “Dancing! But there is no music!”
Pippa snorted. “Ha! Music is vastly overrated. Come on.” She pulled her friend into the open space behind the tables and began to twirl, enjoying the way her sky blue skirts spun out around her. She grinned broadly to herself. She had not danced like this since she was a child and there was something utterly liberating about it. She grabbed the Dowager Duchess hand and whirled her around, narrowly avoiding bumping into the table. Oh yes, she thought with a grin, today was most worthy of a celebration. And she and Carla were certainly to be congratulated.
* * *
“Oh dear.” Jane turned toward the back of the room. Veronica and Gemma followed their sister’s gaze to find their grandmother waltzing between the tables with the Dowager Duchess, her dog tucked under one arm. “Perhaps we ought to have been keeping a closer eye on how many glasses of champagne those two had.”
“Well,” Gemma said wryly, “I’m sure Father will never let her live this down.”
Jane got to her feet. “I had best take her home.”
Veronica felt a pang of guilt as she watched the two Dowagers howling with laughter. She had always seen taking care of her family as her responsibility, especially since her older sister had married. She looked imploringly at Jane. “Will you be all right? I can help you if—”
“Veronica.” Her younger sister cut her off gently. “Don’t be foolish. It is your wedding day.” She put a hand on her sister’s wrist and squeezed gently. “I can handle Grandmother.” She smiled conspiratorially. “Besides, she will probably be asleep by the time we get home.”
Gemma grinned at Veronica. She nodded towards the Dowager Duchess, who had now relieved herself of her shoes and was prancing barefoot across the room. “And if you truly wish to take care of someone, it looks as though Her Grace might be feeling a little poorly tomorrow morning.”
Veronica hesitated. She knew Jane was right; this was her wedding day, and she did not need to be responsible for taking care of everyone today. But it felt like a difficult habit to break. She trusted her younger sister—of course, she did. But she could not shake the feeling that things would fall apart at home without her. “If you’re sure…” she said tentatively.
“Of course I am sure.” Jane pulled her into a firm embrace. “It’s time for you to go and enjoy your own life for once.”
At her sister’s words, Veronica felt her gaze pulled in her husband’s direction. Was it possible for her to enjoy her own life if she was to live it by his side? The sight of him, so impossibly handsome in his dark blue suit and silver cravat, made something flutter in her belly. But Veronica knew well that physical attraction was just one piece of the puzzle. Knew it was not enough on which to build a happy marriage.
As though feeling her gaze on him, the Duke got to his feet and began to stride towards her. He folded his arms across his chest and chuckled as he watched the Dowagers’ dancing display. “Quite a sight, wouldn’t you say?”
Veronica realized they were close to the first words he had spoken to her since the wedding breakfast had begun. She watched Jane gently extricating her grandmother from the Dowager Duchess’s grip and speaking to her in soothing tones Veronica could not quite make out.
The Duke met Veronica’s eyes. A faint smile was playing in the corner of his mouth. “I ought to take Grandmother upstairs. It seems she has had quite enough.”
“Of course. I will help you.” She spoke the last sentence softly, half expecting the Duke to protest.
But he nodded. “Will you bring up her reticule? I shall have her lady’s maid get her into bed in the meantime.” He chuckled. “I don’t expect we will be seeing her again until the morning.”
Unbidden, his words made something flutter in her chest. His words seemed weighted, somehow. A reminder that once their guests left and they disappeared upstairs, they would be alone in the vast expanse of Brownwood Manor. As husband and wife.
Neither of them had spoken a word about what was to take place on their wedding night. In truth, they had barely spoken a word about anything since their hasty betrothal. She knew the Duke had never intended to take a wife. But now he had one. Would he visit her bed tonight?
The thought made her heart kick into a wild and frantic rhythm. Made her body suddenly hot and her breath short with a heady mix of need and panic. She closed her eyes and tried to focus.
