Page 12 of Claimed By the Duke of Ice

“That would be most pleasant,” the Dowager replied sweetly, taking a long look around their parlor.

“And might I say that I love what you’ve chosen to do with this room. It is so…spartan. Not at all like the other noble houses, cluttered with baubles and such.”

Grace couldn’t help but narrow her eyes at the woman. Even if her sisters and mother didn’t catch the barb Nathaniel’s Aunt had just thrown at them, she definitely did. She could tell by the woman’s stance, the look in her eyes, that it was not a genuine compliment.

“We prefer a life of less clutter,” Susan replied cheerily as she offered Tabitha a seat.

“That is good,” the Dowager Countess replied, taking a seat, “for my nephew’s life can do without things such as clutter.” She turned her steely gaze toward Grace and smiled coldly.

“That is what I came here to discuss with you, young lady. You will be a duchess by this week’s end, and there are many duties you will be obligated to fulfill.”

Grace felt a sharp comeback beginning to form on her tongue, but her mother spoke first.

“I am so glad you are here to explain, My Lady,” Susan replied. “I have tried my best to prepare my daughter for the changes coming her way, but alas, I am not properly educated in the matter myself.”

“Of course, you’re not,” Tabitha replied, her voice dripping with condescension as she looked at them all with pity.

“Come now,” she continued, staring from one woman to the next, “let us sit and talk. There is much to discuss.”

* * *

Tabitha could barely contain her anger as she left the Rowley’s home. Her suspicions of Grace not being good enough for Nathaniel had been doubly confirmed, but no matter what she said, the girl was not changing her mind about the marriage. She tried, briefly, to understand what her nephew saw in the woman that made her worth saving but failed.

All she could see was their faded and fraying dresses, their mostly empty house, and the touching. This family touched one another incessantly! She’d lost track of all the hugs, squeezes, and kisses they’d all exchanged, and it had made her nauseated.

“There will be much for you to work on, Miss Rowley,” Tabitha had said after her mother had served a monstrous concoction that she’d boldly called tea. “My nephew is not used to such affections. He will be cold to you if you attempt such ventures.”

She had hoped that her words would scare the girl into changing her mind, but instead, Grace only came back at her with a smug retort.

“I am sure that there are many things His Grace and I will have to become accustomed to,” she’d stated matter-of-factly, “but that will be our business to discuss and ours alone.”

Though it irritated her greatly in such a way, Tabitha couldn’t help but respect the young woman’s wit. Still, for the one thing she admired about her, there were twenty other things she didn’t. In fact, she found the entire family downright irritating and not worthy of joining her family at all.

Still, it was now clear that the wedding would take place whether she liked it or not. And one way or another, she would have to accept that Grace Rowley was going to become the new Duchess of Ninter and wife to Nathaniel. At least… for now.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The carriage was quiet as Grace and Nathaniel made their way to the Darland Estate. The wedding had been small but beautiful, and Nathaniel had been most polite throughout the ceremony and the reception. But he had worn his gloves the entire time—something she couldn’t help but notice.

She had gathered that the man was averse to touch, but she couldn’t help but feel jilted. Her family was very physically affectionate, and yet here she was now, married to a man who was the exact opposite.

“You look beautiful,” Nathaniel stated, breaking the silence.

Grace drew her eyes away from Nathaniel’s gloved hands and up to his eyes. He looked as lost as she felt, and she suddenly felt a small gush of relief.

“Thank you,” she replied with a small smile. “You look most handsome as well.”

Nathaniel scoffed as he rolled his eyes.

“You really think so?” he asked, picking at an imaginary loose thread on his jacket. “My aunt scolds me incessantly for wearing all black. She says it is too mournful.”

“Your aunt seems like a…very…strict woman,” Grace ventured, trying to find the right but still be polite.

Nathaniel let out a soft chuckle as he nodded his head.

“That is a kind way of putting it,” he agreed. “But I suppose our family is like that. The only one that wasn’t was my mother.”

“What was she like?” Grace asked readily. She had gathered before their marriage that Nathaniel’s parents were dead, and there was no love lost between departed father and son. But she knew very little of the former Duchess of Ninter.

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