Page 47 of Married to a Wicked Duke
When she made her way down the stairs, Jane was waiting at the bottom, their grandmother at her side. The Dowager Marchioness had her dog tucked under one arm—and a look of proud surprise on her face.
“Veronica, my dear,” she said, “I never thought I would see the day. Did you actually just scold your own father?”
Veronica felt her cheeks flushing inexplicably. “I did. He deserved it.”
Her grandmother pulled her into a one-armed embrace. “That he most certainly did. And I daresay hearing such a thing from you will have had a far bigger impact than him hearing the same old diatribe from me.”
The Dowager Marchioness set Patch down on the floor and Veronica bent to scratch his ears, smiling slightly as he nuzzled against her hand.
“Was he terribly angry?” Jane asked, her eyes shining, as though the unexpectedness of Veronica’s boldness had momentarily erased the pain of their father’s behavior.
“No,” she said. “Not angry. Surprised, perhaps.”
The Dowager Marchioness took her hand and gave it gentle squeeze. “Well, well, Your Grace, it seems your new position suits you. Marriage to the Duke seems to have helped you find a little strength.”
Veronica gave her a small smile. “Indeed it has.”
And with Frederick Barnes as my husband, Heaven knows I will need it.
ChapterNineteen
“Is there anything else you need, sir?” asked Frederick’s valet.
Frederick turned to look at himself in the mirror, straightening and then re-straightening a cravat that really did not need to be straightened. Usually, he despised social events with every inch of his being. Despised the small talk, the gossip, the whole unnecessary pageantry of it all. But tonight, the dread did not feel quite so overwhelming. Tonight, a small, intimate gathering was being held to celebrate the opening of the orphans’ school. The investors and their wives would be in attendance, along with a few peers and perhaps the teachers hired to instruct the children. A few curious onlookers, perhaps. But with luck, they would be spared the worst of theton’s critical eye—and their gossiping tongues.
A voice in the back of Frederick’s mind whispered to him that that was not at all why the thought of the gathering felt less dreadful than usual.
Does it perhaps have something to do with your wife?
Irritating as it was, Frederick had to admit that voice was right. The thought of attending the celebration with Veronica on his arm did make it a far less horrifying prospect.
Because I will not have to bat away the constant affections of Lady Juliet and her kind…
Even as the thought came to him, Frederick knew he was not being completely honest with himself. Yes, the fact that he was married now would put an end to his ridiculous bevy of admirers, but that had little to do with anything. There was something about being in Veronica’s presence that made the world seem not quite so bleak. Something about her impossibly bright smile that made the weight on his shoulders a little lighter.
A smile that’s as bright as the sun.
Surely not…
How he wished he could remember the name of that little girl he had spoken to in the garden so many years ago. All he really remembered was her smile, and the way he had made her promise to always shine brightly.
Frederick turned back to his valet. “Thank you, Marshall,” he said. “I’ve everything I need.”
The man bowed his head and gathered up the razor and shaving bowl. “Enjoy the night, sir.”
Frederick straightened his cravat for the fourteenth time and made his way into the hallway.
“Ah, there you are, my dear,” said his grandmother, appearing at the top of the stairs. “You’re late. I was beginning to fear you had changed your mind about going tonight.”
Frederick shook his head. “Not tonight, Grandmother. I will be there. It is too important not to.”
The Dowager Duchess smiled, patting his cheek affectionately. “Good lad. The Duchess is waiting for you in the parlor.”
Her eyes twinkled and she gave him a smile that Frederick tried to read the meaning behind.
Ever since his and Veronica’s chaotic betrothal, Frederick had made it clear to his grandmother that his would be a marriage in name only. There would be no romance, no heirs. Certainly no love. His grandmother had been wise enough not to press the issue.
But there was something in that look, in that smile, that suggested she knew he had not been entirely able to keep to his own rules.
