Page 68 of The Duke's Spinster Bride
Her cheeks reddened as she spluttered on her drink, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “One of these days you are going to say something like that and find yourself with a face full of wine.”
“And when that day comes, you will probably rub it in my face.” He grinned at her. “But that day is not today.”
“It may well be if you are not careful.” She laughed and then fished a slip of paper from her pocket.
“What is this?” He took it from her. “Have you written me a love note?”
She rolled her eyes but her colour deepened even further. “It is an invitation to the Cotswalts ball.”
“That is the fourth invitation we have received today.” Frederick let out a puff of air as he stroked his chin. “Who knew the ton would be so desperate to get a piece of us?”
“You have kissed me three times in public. Perhaps they are hoping for another show.” Her eyes glittered mischieviously and Frederick felt his own cheeks redden.
Swallowing, he licked his lips and said, “And are you suggesting I give them one?”
“No.” Andrea waved away the suggestion, giving him a sidelong look as she stood up. “I think we have given them quite enough, quite frankly. Besides, there are some things I would like to keep for myself.”
His heart skittered wildly in his chest. His mouth went suddenly dry as Andrea grinned at him. “Remind me, was it you who said she did not flirt?”
“I cannot recall.” She leaned towards him, her fingers brushing across his knuckles as she did. “But I seem to remember a certain duke seeming to be unopposed to the idea.”
A shiver ran through him and his voice came out closer to a growl than anything else. “Careful, Duchess. I hear it is poor form to flirt with your husband.”
“I thought you did not care for such things.” She giggled and stepped away from him, gesturing to the invitation that lay on the desk in front of him, her face falling somewhat. “Do you want to accept this invitation?”
“The Cotswalts balls are always quite an event, and they should not be too extravagant. I am inclined to accept.”
“That will make it our fifteenth ball. And we have five garden parties on top of that and the Benson’s have invited us to the theatre tomorrow, though as the play sounds rather tiresome, I would like to decline.”
“Then decline it.” He winked at her. “I have more than enough social engagements to show you off at.”
He glanced at the clock. “Speaking of which, should you not be getting ready for the ball this evening?”
Andrea sighed and nodded her head. “Unfortunately, yes. You have no idea how much easier you have it. You simply have to put on your outfit and be done with it all. I on the other hand, must think about my hair, my make-up, my jewellery.”
“It is the price one must pay to be beautiful, or so I am told.” He ducked as she flung the invitation towards him.
Laughing, he watched as she left the room, absentmindedly rubbing his hands along his knuckles. He picked up the invitation and went to place it in the pile with the rest of the post they had received that day.
He rarely looked at the pile; if there was anything interesting Andrea would tell him. He placed the invitation at the top of it, but was distracted and accidentally knocked it off. In his haste to fix it, he knocked the rest of the papers to the ground as well, causing absolute chaos. Several of the things skidded under the sofa.
“Damn it.” He glanced towards the doorway.Andrea will be furious if I upset her files.
He grabbed the ones on the floor and carefully put them back on the pile, before dropping to his belly and fishing things out from beneath the sofa.
He did his best to rearrange the papers and was just about to turn from them, when his eyes caught on a name.
“Andrew Cowper?” Frowning, he pulled the file towards him. “What is this?”
He looked at the papers in the folder and his heart sunk. He was holding bank records of a business venture taken out in a male name. A name he suspected was Andrea’s pseudonym.
“Why did she not tell me about this?” His hands shook as he leafed through the financials.
What does it mean?The sums in the accounts were not staggering by any stretch of the imagination, but neither were they simply petty cash.Is she trying to hide this from me?
He had found the folder under the sofa after all. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he tugged at the collar of his shirt.
He took several steps towards the door before he realised what he was doing and forced himself to stop. “Am I supposed to just walk up to her and confront her? Demand she tell me the meaning of this?”
