She had just received a letter from the Duke saying that her guest list had been approved. He had addressed it “MyLady Natalie.” Which had been bad enough. The contents of his letter had been even more infuriating.
“Little Thief.” Natalie read aloud. “Thank you for your guest list. I note you have requested your Uncle Stephan be allowed to bring his three goats. I shall of course be more than happy to allow this and shall arrange roses for them to snack on.”
She fumed. “You are not supposed to agree to this! Why will he not get angry? What is wrong with him?”
She growled at the letter and said in an imitation of the Duke’s deep baritone. “I still have not received word from the modiste that you have ordered your dress, I expect to hear from the modiste tomorrow, or I will take matters into my own hands. And while I have wonderful taste, I can not guarantee it will be to your liking.”
“I’ll show him. I will order the ugliest, most hideous dress I can find. I will turn up in a potato sack and thoroughly embarrass him.” She smiled at the thought of the Duke’s fury.
“I fear that if you do that, you will only embarrass yourself. Fetching as you are, dear Natalie, few women could look good in a potato sack.” a woman’s voice said from behind her, making her jump.
Natalie turned around and found herself staring at the Viscountess of Cotswalts, who was looking at her with an amused expression on her face.
“Oh, Lady Cotswalts, I thought you were still with Jane.” Natalie blushed.
“We returned a week ago. I had thought to catch up with your mother, but I am told she is with Marie.” Lady Cotswalts replied.
Marie, Natalie’s other sister, was pregnant with her third child and the pregnancy had not been an easy one. Natalie shifted from foot to foot, trying to work out how long Rose’s mother had been standing there.
“How… I mean… I did not think there was anyone else in the garden.”
“Clearly not, or you would not have been cursing like a sailor. Such colourful language, it reminded me of accompanying my father to the docks.” Lady Cotswalts smiled at her. “And who is the lucky young gentleman who has earned your ire?”
“Adrian Stone, The Duke of Blackwood.” Natalie said. “He sent me this delightful letter. Apparently, my guest list has been approved and now he is threatening to order my wedding dress if he does not hear from the modiste by tomorrow.”
Lady Cotswalts nodded. “Yes, Rose mentioned you were engaged. She seems more positive about this match than Lord Bolton. Though I suppose that is a rather low bar.”
“Practically a crater, Lady Cotswalts.” Natalie agreed.
“Indeed.” Lady Cotswalts took Natalie’s arm in hers. “Now, perhaps you would explain to me just why you think wearing a potato sack to your wedding is a good idea?”
“I did not think it was a good idea, just that it would irritate him.” Natalie replied. “Yet he is proving frustratingly difficult to irritate. He either has the patience of a saint or missed his true calling as an actor.”
“How so?” Lady Cotswalts canted her head towards Natalie.
“Every request that I have made he has accepted, and more than that he has done so with grace and good humour! Even when they have been utterly nonsensical! I asked that he send a carriage with a white horse to pick me up, and he said he would send a carriage and four white horses. Four!” Natalie shook her head.
“It sounds like he is a generous man.” Lady Cotswalts said.
“He just likes to prove that I cannot rile him. And that he is the one in charge. Every request I make, he agrees to but changes in some way that I could not reasonably refuse.” Natalie let out a frustrated growl. “All I want is for him to be irritated. Is that so much to ask? And yet he refuses!”
“And you wish to irritate him because?” Lady Cotswalts frowned.
“Because he irritates me.” Natalie blushed. “And he seems to delight in irritating me and that hardly seems fair.”
“I see.” Lady Cotswalts nodded her head.
Natalie gestured to the letter in her hands, before crumpling it into a ball and stamping on it. “I was going to see the modiste today, but then I received his letter and I was just so annoyed.”
Lady Cotswalts raised an eyebrow, her arms folded across her chest. “So you have no wish to see the modiste any more because he told you to see her?”
Natalie ran a hand through her hair.How is it possible that a woman so much shorter than me makes me feel about an inch tall?“Well, when you say it like that it sounds mad.”
“That is because it is mad.” Lady Cotswalts said. “Why are you so determined to not do as he says?”
“Because I do not want to be bullied.” Natalie gestured around her. “I do not want to spend the rest of my life being told what to do and where to go and what to buy. I do not want that. I have never wanted that.”
“Few women do want that.” Lady Cotswalts said. “But we do not always get what we want.”
