Page 9 of Married to a Wicked Duke
She followed the smell of eggs and freshly baked bread down the passage towards the breakfast room. In spite of her unease, her stomach was groaning with hunger. She had barely eaten a thing since yesterday morning.
Drawing in her courage, she approached the wide double doors of the breakfast room, nodding in thanks to the doorman as he allowed her entrance. Bright sunlight flooded in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, which looked out on a wild garden. Blooming pink roses were dotted in a haphazard manner between great expansive oak trees, and thick ivy climbed over a small wooden shelter in the back of the garden. Veronica glimpsed a fox darting between the trees.
So many wonderful things to paint in there,she thought longingly. But before she could even think about lovely things like painting, there was this gauntlet of a meal to get through.
Her grandmother was already at the table, and she waved brightly at Veronica as she entered. Veronica hurried over to her. Unsurprisingly, there was no sign of her father. Mercifully, there was no sign of the Duke either. Hopefully, it would stay that way.
“Good morning, my dear,” the Dowager Marchioness sang as Veronica slipped into the chair beside her. “I do hope you slept well.”
Veronica looked down. “I am sorry for missing dinner last night, Grandmother. I know that was very rude of me.”
The Dowager Marchioness patted her forearm. “It’s no matter, my dear. Everyone could see how exhausted you were. I knew Her Grace did not take offense.” She lowered her voice. “And as for that grandson of his, can you believe he did not even bother to make an appearance?”
Veronica stared intently into her teacup as one of the footmen filled it to the brim. “Is that so?”
The Dowager Marchioness shook her head. “That young man. He certainly is… something. I am sure his grandmother will have stern words for him this morning.” She sipped her tea. “Tell me, dear, did you find your room without difficulty?”
Veronica froze.Does she know something? Or is she just inquiring about my well-being?Her thoughts were racing so furiously she could not tell anymore.
Perhaps she ought to confess to her grandmother what had happened last night. If she were to find out from anyone else, the consequences would likely be far worse than if Veronica told her what had happened from her own lips. Perhaps she ought to calmly explain the misunderstanding, and that all steps had been taken to avoid a scandal.
The moment the thought came to her, she dismissed it. Because once, not so long ago, her sister Gemma had found herself in a similar situation, entangled with the Duke of Larsen at a gathering not too different to this one. Veronica had vivid memories of her sister making a similarly shameful appearance at the breakfast table. Back then, she had pried to no avail. It was not until months after she had married that Gemma had admitted to her sister that she had spent the night in the Duke of Larsen’s bedchamber. And their grandmother had meddled and pried until Gemma and the Duke were husband and wife.
The circumstances of her own misstep were already eerily similar. And there was no way Veronica could let the same thing happen to her. She could think of few things worse than spending her life by the side of the cold and unfeeling Duke of Brownwood.
“Yes, Grandmother,” she said instead. “I found the room just fine, thank you. It’s lovely,” she added for good measure. “Very comfortable.”
“Very good, my dear.” Something about the Dowager Marchioness’s smile made Veronica wary. It was too…knowing, somehow. Was there any way she could…
Veronica dismissed the thought. No one had seen her, surely. And this look in her grandmother’s eyes, it was nothing more than her own racing imagination.
She looked up to see more people approaching the breakfast room. There was Lady Juliet Carfield, flanked by Lady Arabella, and two of the other young ladies Veronica had met in the marquee yesterday. She felt the muscles in her shoulders tighten in dread.
“Lady Veronica.” Lady Juliet swanned up to the table, taking the seat opposite as the footman pulled it out for her. “Wherever did you disappear to last night?”
“Forgive my rudeness,” Veronica said unable to look Lady Juliet in the eye. “I was utterly exhausted after the long trip up from London. I am afraid I went up to rest and did not open my eyes until morning.”
“How unfortunate.” Lady Juliet gave her a syrupy smile. “You missed a very fine dinner. I am sure you would have found it quite a treat. Given… well, you know.” Veronica forced herself not to react at Lady Juliet’s dig at her family’s meagre finances. “I do hope you’re feeling refreshed.”
“Very refreshed,” said Veronica, through gritted teeth. “Thank you.”
“In any case,” said Lady Arabella, leaning forward conspiratorially, “you did not miss a great deal. His Grace did not even bother to show himself.”
At the mention of the Duke, Veronica felt her heartbeat quicken. She forced herself to keep her expression level. She nodded in the Dowager Marchioness’s direction. “So my grandmother tells me.”
“I told Lady Juliet I was sure he just wanted some time alone with her,” said Lady Arabella, sighing wistfully. “No doubt he just did not see the point in making small talk with all these other guests when he has already made up his mind about what he wishes to take as his wife.”
This time, Veronica’s smile was genuine. She thought back to what the Duke had said about his abhorrence for “desperate debutantes.” Lady Juliet was going to get quite a shock when she learned how His Grace truly felt about her. “Yes,” she said. “I am quite sure that’s it.” She took a mouthful of tea to steady herself.
I am safe, surely. If anyone knew she had spent the night in the Duke’s bedchamber, no doubt the issue would have been raised by now. She would have been confronted and shamed, and her family would be at the center of yet another hideous scandal. But no such thing had happened.
Veronica took a deep breath. She scooped up a forkful of the eggs that had just been placed in front of her. She tried to enjoy the taste of them. But when she glanced sideways at her grandmother, she saw a sly smile that made her stomach knot. A smile that made her wonder if she really was as safe as she had hoped.
ChapterFive
When the breakfast dishes were cleared away, the Dowager Duchess stood up from the head of the table and looked out at all her guests. “To begin today’s festivities,” she announced, holding her arms out to the side in a grand gesture, “a painting competition!” She clapped her hands together, clearly pleased with herself.
In spite of her earlier unease, Veronica felt a frisson of joy in her chest. From the moment she had arrived at the Brownwoods’ country house, she had been eager to commit some of the images around her to the page. A few hours with her easel and paints would make the unease she carried a little lighter. Would stop her from wondering whether she had gotten away with her night spent with the Duke.
