Bridget sat to her husband’s right in the place of honor awarded to his new bride. Her breath shuddered in her chest, as she gazed over the table. The guests surrounding them were comprised mostly of her family members. His Grace’s one friend, the marquess, had bid them a regretful farewell; it seemed as though he had a prior obligation which warranted his prompt attention.
The wedding breakfast would be the perfect opportunity for her to cause some mischief surrounded by people who supported her. Letthemsee how monstrous her husband was! She took a small sip of her tea, eyes drifting over the generous spread of fruits, tarts, and cakes.
“This is a lovely table,” Catherine said.
“So it is,” Bridget’s husband replied.
Bridget stared at him, uncertain how to feel about such a strange response. Most men would have responded with gratitude for the compliment.
“You have done well with your matches, Reeds,” Gerard said, turning to Elias. “It is no small feat marrying three sisters to Dukes.”
“I cannot entirely take credit for their success,” Elias said. “In truth, I did very little.”
There would be people who believed Bridget was unworthy of marrying a Duke. As she ate a piece of toast covered in orangejam, she recalled Lady Susan’s criticism of her. Bridget doubted that the spiteful young woman was the only individual who found her to be lacking. Her heart sank, while she imagined what the next ball might bring—judgmental stares and cruel gossip.
Maybe it would be better if her husband did not wish to attend any of theton’sevents. Certainly, she would have to endure less judgment from his staff if they just remained at home.
“Do you have plans to celebrate the marriage?” Dorothy asked. “Bridget has never thrown a ball, and this would be a good opportunity for her first. I would be able to aid her in the endeavor.”
Once, Bridget would have been delighted to host her own ball, but now…
If she did, Bridget would have to invite thetoninto her new home, knowing that they detested her. How could she not be vexed by that? She cast a quick glance at her husband, but he seemed entirely unbothered.
“I suppose a ball would be warranted,” he mused. “It is not every day that a man marries, after all.”
Bridget chewed her toast with more force than necessary. She could refuse or argue, both of which would doubtlessly embarrass His Grace. Worse, Bridget might even deign to tell her loving siblings about how detested she was among theton. She swallowed.
She thought about doing it.
She could not.
“I could also help with the ball,” Catherine said, smiling. “I told William that I intend on remaining in London for a while longer, and he found that to be quite agreeable.”
Bridget’s chest tightened. Her sister sounded as though she was so deeply in love with the man she had married, and Bridget could, at best, summon a flicker of curiosity towards hers. And in truth, it was not even the man himself who she desired. It was the pleasure that he might bring her, which was a poor substitute for true love.
“Between the three of you, I am certain it will be the most magnificent ball thetonhas ever seen,” Elias said fondly.
Bridget muffled a sigh. She could too readily imagine how the planning of that ball would go, and it did not seemmagnificentto her. Dorothy would be too present, constantly questioning Bridget and insisting on doing everything differently. Meanwhile, Catherine would be all wild energy, moving from item to item—plates to music to refreshments—so quickly that Bridget was bound to be left behind.
In the end, it would not be her ball at all, but her sisters’.
“It will be sometime before we want to host a ball,” Bridget said. “Won’t it? We have only just married, and I imagine our time shall be occupied with other matters.”
She did not know precisely what those matters were but sensed that it would have something to do with the heat that kept growing in her core and the needy aches between her thighs.
“Yes,” the Duke of Wheelton said.
“Of course,” Dorothy said, eyes darting to her husband.
“But after you have settled into your married life,” Catherine mused. “I think you would be quite adept at the preparations, Bridget.”
If she was given the opportunity tomakethe preparations, for her sisters seemed to already have so many ideas! Bridget knew that she ought to be grateful for them both, and most of the time she was. It was only when it came to matters likethisthat frustration rose within her, as hot and merciless as fire. She was forever living in their shadows, and now, she had the shame of being the only one of the Leedway sisters who had married out of desperation rather than love.
“You have always had a refined sense of aesthetics,” Elias said. “And the imagination for planning.”
Gerard whispered something in Dorothy’s ear, which made her smile. Bridget took an uncommonly large bite of eggs. Shedoubted the comment had anything to do with her, but she could not fight the instinctive concern that ithad.
“That is good to know,” the Duke of Wheelton said. “I am still learning about my new bride, and it is pleasing to hear she is well-suited for being my duchess.”
