“If you insist,” she replied, knowing full well he would.
“Of course, I insist. You need to let me make this disastrous marriage up to you.” He went over to her and kissed the top of her head. “Your mother always felt better when she went shopping. This will be just the thing to ease your pain.”
“All right.”
Relaxing, he smiled and hugged her. “You can get anything you want.”
She knew that, too, and she would make sure whatever she picked out would be expensive enough to assure him that he was still a good father.
***
Ethan gulped his glass of port wine and set it on the table next to the chessboard. What made him think that coming to White’s was a good idea? Oh right. Catherine wanted him to come here and enjoy his morning away from her father and his mother.
“I’ve never seen you drink wine that fast,” Christopher said in amusement as he leaned back in the seat across from him. “Your wife is causing you trouble already?”
“You have no idea,” he muttered.
Ethan couldn’t concentrate on anything. He’d tried reading the newspaper, which bored him anyway but even more so today. Then he attempted a game of chess with Christopher, but he couldn’t focus on which pawn was doing what. His mind kept going back to the library where she was kissing him, rubbing her delectable body up against him, and fondling his erection. Then she left the room, leaving him unsatisfied. And to make matters worse, the alcohol was settling in his loins, furthering his desire to be with her. It was too much for a gentleman to take. No gentleman should have to suffer so!
Christopher shook his head and chuckled. “Tell me, what is it like being married to the Duke of Rumsey’s daughter? No one can tell what she’s really like under her hard shell. Is she as aloof as she seems?”
Ethan snorted. “No. That aloofness is a mask. The lady has no qualms about letting a gentleman know exactly what she wants when there’s no one else around.”
“But she seems so docile every time I’ve seen her.”
“That’s probably what she wants people to think.” He took his pocket watch out and glanced at it. He’d only been here for twenty minutes? He used to come here for hours and not notice the passage of time. And yet today, time was passing at an irritatingly slow pace. Slipping the watch back into his pocket, he crossed his legs. “I never should have gotten married.”
Christopher laughed. “Don’t you think you’re exaggerating your misery a little too much? Just because you’re married, it doesn’t mean you can’t continue to enjoy life. Tell some raunchy jokes, play a few card games in the other room, or run off to dally with a lady or two.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“I don’t understand how one day of marriage has killed your spirit. Other gentlemen get married and act as if nothing is different.”
Ethan crossed his arms and sighed. “It’s not that I dread being with her. On the contrary, I rather enjoy it.”
His eyes grew wide and he leaned forward. “You do?”
“Lower your voice!” he hissed. “I’m only telling you because you’re a trusted friend.” Though he’d never reveal that his reputation with the ladies was only a pretense, he didn’t mind telling him how much his wife confounded him. “As it turns out, she’s quite…pleasant.”
“Surely, you jest.”
Ethan shook his head.
“But she spent all her time crying at the wedding breakfast. I saw it for myself. A couple couldn’t be more mismatched.”
“We were mismatched.” Maybe they still were, except in a way he hadn’t anticipated. “She spent the entire day sulking because she had to marry me.”
“Yes, that’s what I remember. And you looked like a fox trapped in a hole.”
“Please assure me that I didn’t look like that.”
“I’m afraid you did.”
Ethan grimaced. That wasn’t the way he wanted to appear to others. While he felt that way, he honestly believed he was able to mask his feelings better than that.
“No one could blame you. You were marrying the Duke of Rumsey’s daughter,” Christopher replied.
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
He shrugged as he collected the chess pieces. “Isn’t it?”
“No, not really.”
“If she isn’t as dreadful as you feared, then why are you upset? You should be spending the day with her instead of being here. I know I’d rather be with a lady than a bunch of stuffy gentlemen.”
“You don’t like White’s?”
“It’s all right. It’s somewhere to go that won’t cause me trouble with my guardian, but I’d rather be in the company of a good lady.”
“What an odd pair we are,” Ethan mused. “You’re eager to get married, and I didn’t want to be married at all.”
“My guardian’s friend, Lord Roderick, is married, and he’s one of the happiest gentlemen I’ve seen.”
“Lord Roderick’s situation could only improve with marriage given how dull he is. All he does is talk about politics. There’s more to life than what’s going on in Parliament.”
Christopher nodded as he put the chess pieces where they belonged so someone else could start a game after they left. “I don’t particularly care for him myself.”
“I suppose not after he made you clean chamber pots.”
“His wife is his only redeeming quality.”
“At least he’s not your guardian.”
“Thank goodness for small favors, though he can be meddlesome.”
“If your guardian found a wife,” Ethan began, “he wouldn’t have time to meddle in your life. Maybe you should find him a lady.”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem interested in getting married.” After a slight pause, he asked, “Are you going to Lord and Lady Martin’s ball?”
“I hadn’t planned on it.” Mostly because Ethan had hoped his mother wouldn’t press him into going, and now that he was married, he didn’t have to. He doubted Catherine would want to go since she usually either kept to herself or had her father arrange dance partners for her. “I probably won’t go.”
“That’s a shame. You seem to know which lady and gentleman go best together.”
“No, I don’t.” Because if he did, he would’ve realized Catherine was good for him.
“You said Lord Roderick and his wife were a good match before anyone else saw it.”
“What was to figure out about that one? She didn’t tolerate his intimidating tactics. I saw the way she stood up to him that night everyone caught them out on Lady Cadwalader’s lawn. He couldn’t help but respect someone like that, and he couldn’t love someone he didn’t respect.” Ethan wondered if Catherine’s father left the townhouse yet. He took his watch out of his pocket and checked the time. Oh for goodness sakes! He wasn’t a child. He could go to his townhouse any time he wanted. Tucking his watch back into his pocket, he rose to his feet. “All right. I think I’ll go home and see what my wife is up to.”
“Knowing you, you’ll have no trouble entertaining her,” Christopher replied with a wink.
Deciding to let Christopher’s remark go unanswered, Ethan went to his townhouse. The first thing he did was check the drawing room, but Catherine wasn’t there. He entertained the idea that she might be waiting for him in his bed but knew that was wishful thinking. She wouldn’t be there until evening.
Turning to the butler who approached him, he asked, “Where’s my wife?”
“She and the Duke of Rumsey left an hour ago. She said she’d return by early afternoon.”
Ethan hid his disappointment. “Oh, well, that’s good.”
“A message came for you while you were gone. I put it in the library.”
“Thank you.”
Glad for something to do, he strode to the library and found the letter on his desk. It was from his acquaintance at Minerva Press. Since Catherine wouldn’t return for a couple hours, he decided that he should deliver the letter
to Agatha. She’d want to know what the publisher decided regarding her manuscript. Turning on his heel, he headed right back out of his townhouse.
Chapter Twelve
Catherine watched as the footman put the last of the new packages into the carriage. She knew her father felt guilty, but she had no idea he felt this guilty! Not only had he selected expensive fabric for two new dresses the seamstresses would make for her, but he’d also indulged her with jewelry, furs, and hats.
“I think this is enough,” she told him, hoping by now his conscience was eased.
To her relief, he nodded. “I think that will do.”
Good. As much as she appreciated all he was doing for her, she had no need for all the things he was buying her. She had more than enough from the last two Seasons when he blamed himself for not finding her a husband. And now he was blaming himself since she had one.
“Lady Edon,” a familiar voice called out.
Ignoring the way her father winced at the mention of her title as Ethan’s wife, Catherine looked over her shoulder and saw Claire with her sister. Pleased to see her new friend, Catherine smiled. “How do you do, Lady Roderick?”
“I’m very well. This is Mrs. Morris, my sister,” she replied.
“I know who she is. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Morris.”
Claire and her sister offered a greeting to the duke who reciprocated in kind. “It’s a lovely day to be outside, isn’t it?” Claire asked.
“Yes, it is,” he replied.
Claire turned her attention back to Catherine. “We were on our way to Hyde Park.” She motioned to the drawing pads in their hands. “We were going to draw some flowers. We have enough paper and pencils if you’d like to join us.”
Excited by the prospect of spending the day with her friend, she looked at her father with a silent question in her eyes.
“I’ll see to it that your things get to your home,” her father said.
“Thank you,” she replied, thrilled she’d get to spend time with other ladies who didn’t have to be with her in order to be polite.
“If you need anything, tell me?” he asked.
“I will, and I’ll be fine.” She hoped that when she saw him again, he’d be happier.
He nodded, said good-bye to Claire and Mrs. Morris, and stepped into the carriage.
After the coachman urged the horses forward, Catherine turned back to the two ladies. “You said you’re going to Hyde Park?”
“Yes. We could have taken a carriage, but it’s such a nice day,” Claire replied. “I hope you don’t mind if we walk there.”
“I don’t mind at all. The day is perfect for a stroll. I’ve never drawn flowers at the park. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I drew anything. I mainly painted pictures.”
“You have no need to worry,” Mrs. Morris said as they started walking down the sidewalk. “Neither Claire nor I are any good at drawing, and to be honest, I’m only doing it because she didn’t want to go to Hyde Park alone.”
“I was going to ask Catherine instead,” Claire told her sister, “but given the fact that she just got married yesterday, I thought it was wise to let her adjust to her new life.” She looked at Catherine. “How is your marriage so far?”
Though she blushed, Catherine said, “I think I’m going to like being married to Lord Edon.”
“That’s much better than how your marriage started,” Mrs. Morris teased Claire and then turned her gaze to Catherine. “Claire’s husband had to drag her out to their country estate, kicking and screaming the whole way.”
“Well,” Claire began, “you can’t blame me. He accused me of all kinds of misdeeds. If he’d taken the time to listen to me, he would’ve known better. But that’s the trouble with gentlemen. They don’t often listen to a lady because their pride tells them they can’t be wrong.”
Catherine giggled.
“Some are more stubborn than others, but even so, you had an easier time with your husband than I had with mine, dear sister,” Mrs. Morris said. “Mine wouldn’t talk to me for nearly a month.”
“Really? Why not?” Catherine asked, intrigued.
“I had to be creative in how I got him to marry me,” she replied.
“She created a scandal to force his hand,” Claire inserted.
Catherine’s eyes grew wide. “You did?”
“Scandal is such a strong word,” Mrs. Morris replied.
“Oh? And what would you call it?” Claire pressed.
“I’d call it encouragement.” Mrs. Morris shrugged but grinned at Catherine. “Sometimes gentlemen need encouragement to do what’s best for them.”
“Tell me more about it,” Catherine insisted, wondering what the lady had done to finally win her husband.
As they continued walking to the park, Mrs. Morris did as Catherine wished.
***
Ethan waited for Agatha at a bench at Hyde Park. She’d be dressed as Gilbert Horlock, which was her name as an author of gothic horror. In return for her submitting things to the Tittletattle on his behalf, he handled the correspondence between her and the publisher she hoped would accept her work.
He held the message from the publisher in his hand. He hadn’t read it. He thought of slipping into her townhouse as he’d done when he sought her help with creating scandals about him, but he opted for sending a note to her butler. He couldn’t leave the publisher’s message with her butler but had to deliver it in person. She’d be mortified if anyone knew her secret, so her servants were the last people she’d reveal it to.
But since he had things to hide, he was safe. And likewise, she was safe to reveal his secrets to. And now Catherine knew the darkest secret he’d kept carefully concealed. She knew he wasn’t the rake he pretended to be. And she accepted him anyway. He wondered if she welcomed it. Her attitude seemed to change right after she learned the truth.
“You have something for me?”
Looking up from where he sat on the bench, he saw Agatha dressed as Gilbert. Though she dressed the part of a young gentleman with a mustache, she used her real voice, keeping it low enough so no one passing by would overhear her.
He moved aside on the bench and motioned for her to sit. As she did, he said, “I do. The editor sent you a message.” He presented the letter to her and she accepted it.
She took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I should read this.” She offered a light chuckle and turned the letter over in her hands.
“Do you want me to read it for you and tell you what he wrote?”
A long moment of silence passed before she answered. “No. I need to do it.”
He watched as she read it, and as soon as he saw her wince, he knew the editor had rejected the story she submitted to him. Leaning toward her, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
She let out a shaky breath and wiped her eyes. After blinking a few times, she cleared her throat. “That’s the third one he didn’t want. Maybe I should stop writing.”
“I don’t think you can. You enjoy it too much.”
“But what’s the use? I can’t share anything I’ve written with anyone. My family would be humiliated if they knew I wrote gothic horror, so I can’t even share it with them, or even mention I write it.”
“What’s wrong with gothic horror?”
“They say it’s a genre for the uneducated.” She sighed. “I tire of hearing it.”
“Let me read it.”
“You don’t care for gothic horror.”
“How do you know?”
Her eyebrows rose. “Because the only books you’ve discussed actually enjoying are anything by William Shakespeare, Sophocles or Aesop. True, you enjoy fiction, but nothing you read involves a helpless heroine and a hero who saves her from certain danger.”
“Just because I haven’t read it yet doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy it. Give me a chance to decide for myself whether I like it or not.”
“Even if I said yes, when will you find time? Isn’t your wife keeping you occ
upied?”
“My wife is shopping with her father.”
“Shopping?” She hesitated but shrugged. “I suppose it’s to be expected. Yours isn’t a love match. She’d be eager to run back to the safe and familiar world her father represents.”
He laughed. “You don’t know as much as you think you do. She’s not afraid of embracing her new life.”
“Well, she can’t be that excited about it if she left you in favor of shopping.”
“I don’t know why she went shopping with her father. He came over right before breakfast because he spent all night worried about her.” As if her father had anything to worry about!
“That’s sweet of him.”
Ethan grimaced. “Sweet?”
“Yes. He cares deeply for his daughter’s well being. Not every parent is that way.”
He resisted the urge to inform her that the duke’s way of caring for Catherine involved threatening his life. When he turned his gaze to a couple of ladies heading in their direction, he straightened in surprise. Catherine was with Lady Roderick and Mrs. Morris. He didn’t realize Catherine had any friends. Every time he’d seen her, she’d been either at her father’s side, alone, or dancing with a gentleman her father matched her up with.
He glanced at Agatha. “Have you met Lady Catherine?”
“Isn’t she Lady Edon now?” Agatha corrected, quickly stuffing the message into her pocket.
“Yes, I know. I just haven’t gotten used to it yet.” As they rose to their feet, he asked, “Have you met her?”
“No, and I hope she won’t know who I really am.”
He nodded, understanding the subtle request in her eyes. He wouldn’t betray her trust by telling Catherine she was really Agatha, and besides, it wouldn’t be appropriate if he’d been caught talking for so long with a lady he wasn’t related or married to, especially when the lady in question was dressed as a gentleman. While he made it a habit of welcoming scandals in the past, he didn’t relish one now—and it wasn’t just because his father-in-law made it clear that scandals could be met with unfavorable consequences. He unconsciously rubbed his neck, recalling the way the edge of the smallsword felt pressed against its base. It was an experience he’d be very happy never repeating.
A Most Unsuitable Earl (Regency Collection Book 3) Page 10