Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

" K enneth, it's been far too long since I last visited Dunford," Lady Bernmere began, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You wouldn't believe the latest scandal in the ton. Lady Fitzwilliam's pug ran off with Viscount Hartley's spaniel. Quite the uproar at the last garden party, I assure you."

Kenneth chuckled politely though he found little amusement in the frivolous gossip. "Indeed, Aunt Marjorie, that does sound rather eventful."

"Oh, and did you hear about Lord Sinclair's new valet? Quite the dashing young man, and it seems Lady Sinclair has taken an inappropriate interest in him. The poor valet is practically besieged by her advances," Lady Bernmere continued, her laughter echoing through the room.

Kenneth managed a forced smile. "How… scandalous."

Lady Bernmere leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And you wouldn't believe what Lady Hemmingway wore to the last ball. A gown so gaudy, it looked like a peacock exploded on her. The poor dear thought it was the height of fashion."

Kenneth tried to keep his irritation in check. His mind kept wandering to Beatrice. Where could she be? He was certain he had mentioned his aunt's visit to her.

"Ah, but there is one piece of news you might find interesting, Kenneth," Lady Bernmere added, her tone shifting slightly. "The Dowager Duchess has commissioned a new painting from Eric Westback. Quite the coup, wouldn't you say?"

Kenneth's interest was piqued though he kept his expression neutral. "Eric Westback, you say? That is indeed interesting."

Lady Bernmere nodded, a knowing smile on her lips. "I thought you'd appreciate that bit of news. I know how much you value fine art."

Kenneth nodded though his thoughts were still preoccupied with Beatrice. The conversation continued, filled with more gossip and anecdotes about the ton, but his mind was elsewhere.

The door to the parlor opened, and Mr. Jennings entered, standing at attention. Kenneth turned to him with a sharp nod. "Jennings, please have Mrs. Whitfield fetch the Duchess immediately."

Mr. Jennings bowed and left the room, moving swiftly to find the housekeeper.

Kenneth forced a polite smile as he turned back to his aunt, who was settling herself comfortably on the settee.

What could possibly be keeping Beatrice from her duties as the lady of the castle?

It took several minutes before Beatrice finally appeared in the parlor, a flustered expression on her face. "My deepest apologies for my tardiness. I was engrossed in a most riveting book."

Kenneth raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "What book?"

Beatrice hesitated, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for inspiration. Her gaze landed on a history book on the shelf. "Uh… The Conquests of Alexander the Great ," she blurted out.

Kenneth's suspicion deepened. "Really? And what did you find most fascinating about Alexander's campaigns?"

Lady Bernmere's interest was piqued. "Oh, do tell us more about this. It sounds riveting!"

"I do not wish to bore you with the details."

"Oh no, Duchess. Please go ahead," Kenneth insisted, noticing his wife's uneasiness as she spoke. "I would love to hear your perspective on what you read. I am certain Lady Bernmere would too."

His aunt nodded in agreement, much to his pleasure. He wanted to see what his wife would come up with.

Beatrice launched into an explanation, "Well, if you insist. I… um… I found it particularly fascinating when he used… um… giant eagles to scout enemy positions."

Kenneth's eyes narrowed further. "Giant eagles? That's interesting, considering I do not remember reading about any kind of bird in that book which my aunt knows is one of my favorite historical accounts."

"Oh, yes, indeed! Kenneth is rather fascinated by the Greek conqueror," Lady Bernmere confirmed.

Beatrice faltered, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. "Ah, well, I must have confused it with another book," she mumbled, trying to recover.

Lady Bernmere waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, we can discuss the rest of the Greek general's conquests later. I have much more exciting things to talk about."

Kenneth noticed the look of relief that washed over Beatrice's face.

Lady Bernmere continued, her tone animated, "I would like to officially invite both of you to a ball I'm hosting in two weeks at my London townhouse. I do apologize for the short notice. I got a bit caught up in the preparations and forgot to notify people until the beginning of the week."

Kenneth rolled his eyes. "A ball? I have better things to do here than make small talk with inane lords."

Beatrice, however, managed a polite smile. "Thank you for the invitation, Lady Bernmere. We would be delighted to attend."

Kenneth shot her a glare, his eyes narrowing. "Delighted, are we?" he said, his tone icy.

"Oh, Kenneth, I do wish you would show more excitement," Lady Bernmere chided him playfully. "It will be a grand event and a wonderful opportunity for you newlyweds to be seen together."

Kenneth sighed, nodding begrudgingly. "I know you won't relent until I agree, Aunt Marjorie. So yes, we will attend."

Lady Bernmere clapped her hands together in delight. "Wonderful! I shall make sure it is an event to remember."

Kenneth glanced at Beatrice, noting the subtle tension in her posture. He knew she was hiding something. The way she had fabricated that ridiculous story so effortlessly only heightened his suspicion.

Lady Bernmere's gaze turned to Beatrice, her expression softening. "My dear, how are you finding everything? Adjusting well to your new role?"

Beatrice offered a polite smile, her hands folded neatly in her lap. "It's been quite an adjustment, but I'm learning. The Duke has been very patient with me."

Lady Bernmere's lips twitched with amusement. "Oh, I'm sure he has been. Kenneth patient? Now that's a sight I'd love to see."

Beatrice couldn't suppress a giggle at that, her eyes flicking to Kenneth. She saw the muscle in his jaw tick, a clear sign of his annoyance.

Lady Bernmere shifted in her chair and looked at them both with a twinkle in her eyes. "So, do you two have any happy news to share with me?"

Kenneth, in the middle of taking a sip of his brandy, nearly choked. "Happy news?" he repeated, his voice slightly strained. "I'm not quite sure what you're asking, Aunt Marjorie."

Lady Bernmere's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Oh, Kenneth, don't be so dense. I mean, is there any chance of an heir on the way?"

Kenneth blinked, genuinely taken aback by her directness. "An heir? We've only been married a few weeks, Aunt Marjorie."

Beatrice's eyes widened. She quickly looked down at her hands but not before Kenneth caught the brief smile she tried to hide.

Lady Bernmere leaned forward, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Yes, Kenneth, an heir. Your mother was pregnant with you after only a month into her marriage to your father."

Kenneth's mood darkened instantly at the mention of his parents. He muttered under his breath, "And look how that turned out for them."

Lady Bernmere raised an eyebrow, undeterred by his grim tone. "Oh, come now, dear. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that you two make such a lovely couple. Surely, there must be some joy on the horizon?"

Kenneth felt a flare of irritation but forced himself to remain calm. "Aunt Marjorie, we appreciate your enthusiasm, but we're taking things one step at a time."

Lady Bernmere's eyes sparkled with humor. "I suppose I'll just have to be patient, then. But do keep in mind, time waits for no one, not even a duke and duchess."

Kenneth's jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin. "As I said, we've been married for only a few weeks. There will be plenty of time for… happy news." He stood up abruptly, the sudden movement causing his chair to scrape loudly across the floor. "I have a lot of work to do," he said, his voice a touch sharper than he intended.

Without waiting for a response, he strode out of the room, feeling the sharp tension forming between his shoulders.

As he made his way down the corridor. The encounter had left him unsettled, the ghosts of his parents' troubled marriage lingering in his mind.

He reached his study and closed the door behind him, seeking refuge in the solitude of his work. The estate's ledgers and reports awaited him, offering a welcome distraction from his inner turmoil.

Beatrice watched Kenneth stride out of the room, his tension palpable. She turned to Lady Bernmere, her cheeks tinged with embarrassment. "I apologize for Kenneth's behavior. He can be quite… brusque."

Lady Bernmere waved her hand dismissively. "It's no matter, my dear. I know my nephew well. I shouldn't have brought up his parents."

Beatrice hesitated, her curiosity getting the better of her. "If you don't mind my asking, what happened to his parents? Kenneth never speaks of them."

Lady Bernmere's expression softened. "It's a long and rather tragic story. The late Duchess died when he was only four years old. After Kenneth, she had a difficult pregnancy and suffered a stillbirth. The loss was too much for her, and she passed away shortly after."

Beatrice felt a pang of sympathy. "That must have been devastating for Kenneth."

"It was." Lady Bernmere nodded. "The late Duke was never the same after that. He fell into a life of excess—gambling, mistresses, and lavish parties."

Beatrice's heart ached for Kenneth. She had glimpsed the pain in his eyes, but hearing about his past made it all the more real. "And after his father's death?"

Lady Bernmere's gaze grew distant. "Kenneth inherited the title and the estate. He was determined to restore the family's honor, but it hasn't been easy. The estate was in disarray, and he had to deal with the aftermath of his father's misdeeds."

Beatrice leaned forward, her curiosity deepening. "What happened then?"

Lady Bernmere paused, a thoughtful look on her face. "There are some things that are best left for Kenneth to tell you himself, my dear. It's his story to share when he's ready."

Beatrice nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. She felt a deeper connection to Kenneth, a desire to understand him better.

That night, the dining hall of Dunford Castle felt unusually tense. Beatrice took her seat next to Kenneth, their first time dining together as a married couple in this grand room.

Lady Bernmere's presence added an extra layer of formality, yet her demeanor was light and cheerful, contrasting sharply with the undercurrent of tension between the newlyweds.

As the first course was served, Lady Bernmere began to prattle on about children. "You know, you two should start thinking about names for your children. It's never too early, after all."

Beatrice tried the polite approach, forcing a smile. "We haven't really thought about it yet, Lady Bernmere."

Lady Bernmere, however, was not so easily deterred. "Oh, but you must! Names are so important. For a boy, perhaps something strong like Edward or Henry, and for a girl, something elegant like Isabella or Charlotte."

Kenneth's jaw tightened, and he set his fork down with a little too much force. "When my child is born, I will pick the names, and there will be no further discussion about that. He will have a strong name like Horatio Fitzwilliam Spencer or perhaps Jonathan Goodfellow?—"

Beatrice interrupted him, her eyes flashing with defiance. "We will pick the names. Together."

Kenneth's gaze narrowed. "My heir is my concern."

"If I have to carry him for nine months and then give birth to him, it very much is my concern too," Beatrice shot back. "You cannot mean to make all the decisions about our child alone. Besides, I might give birth to a girl first anyway."

Lady Bernmere looked between them, her expression one of mild concern mixed with amusement.

Kenneth took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "I think it's best we move on to another topic."

Lady Bernmere, sensing the tension, began discussing the latest gossip from London.

The conversation shifted, and for a moment, it seemed as though the argument had been forgotten.

But as the meal continued, the underlying tension between Kenneth and Beatrice simmered just below the surface.

"I heard you're considering some new projects, husband. What are they?" Beatrice asked, trying to make conversation.

Kenneth glanced at her, his expression guarded. "Yes, there are several plans in the works. It's a lot to manage."

"Perhaps you could involve me in the decision-making," Beatrice suggested, her tone hopeful.

Kenneth's eyes flashed with annoyance. "The estate is my responsibility. I don't need your help."

Beatrice's hands clenched at her sides. "I'm not trying to take over, Your Grace. I just want to be involved in our life here."

"Our life here? Or do you mean my responsibilities?" Kenneth retorted, his voice rising slightly.

"Must you always be so controlling?" Beatrice snapped, her temper flaring.

"Must you always challenge me?" Kenneth shot back, his voice low and tense.

Lady Bernmere suddenly cleared her throat, drawing their attention. "You know, my dears, a little disagreement is perfectly normal in a marriage," she said, her tone light and conversational. "Why, I remember when my dear late husband and I used to have the most spirited debates."

Kenneth and Beatrice looked at her, their expressions shadowed with surprise and wariness.

Lady Bernmere continued, undeterred. "He would get so passionate about his opinions, and I, of course, would stand my ground. We could go on for hours, arguing about the most trivial things." She chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "But do you know what we discovered? That the best part of arguing was the reconciliation afterwards."

Beatrice's eyes widened, a blush staining her cheeks at the implication. Kenneth coughed, nearly choking on his wine.

Lady Bernmere, oblivious to their discomfort, leaned forward conspiratorially. "There's nothing quite like a heated argument to stir the blood if you know what I mean. And the reconciliation, well… let's just say it's worth every sharp word."

Kenneth set his glass down with more force than necessary, the sound loud in the sudden silence. "Aunt Marjorie, I hardly think this is an appropriate topic for dinner conversation."

Lady Bernmere waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, pish posh, Kenneth. We're all adults here. And I'm merely trying to offer some sage advice to you and your lovely wife."

Beatrice bristled at his tone, her own temper flaring. "There you go again, Kenneth. Always trying to control everything and everyone around you."

He turned to her, his expression darkening. "I'm not trying to control anyone."

"You are not? Throwing around orders like edicts is not controlling?" Beatrice scoffed, pushing back her chair and standing up abruptly.

Kenneth's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with anger. "Beatrice, sit down. You're making a scene."

She laughed humorlessly, shaking her head. "You see? There it is again. An order, not a request." She threw her napkin on the table, her appetite completely gone. "I think I've lost my appetite. If you'll excuse me."

"Beatrice—" Kenneth began, but she stormed off, her heart pounding.

How dare he try to control everything? She was not some silent partner in this marriage.

As she reached the corridor, she heard his footsteps behind her.

"Beatrice, stop!" he called, his voice harsh.

She whirled around to face him. "What now, Duke? Have you come to order me back to the dining hall?"

Kenneth's eyes blazed. "You were rude and insolent, walking out like that."

"And you are domineering and inflexible!" she shot back. "Do you think you can control everything, even me?"

His patience snapped. "You challenge me at every turn. Do you think I enjoy this constant battle?"

Beatrice's voice shook with emotion. "You're cold and distant. You left me alone on our wedding night without a word. Do you have any idea how that made me feel?"

"I had an actual problem to attend to on our wedding night," he countered, his tone defensive. "There was a leak in the west wing. But you wouldn't understand that because you've been too busy defying me at every turn."

Beatrice's eyes narrowed, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "I understand you had to attend to that matter. Still, you've been avoiding me on purpose since then. The only moments we have interacted, you've been bossing me around, acting like you own me. And aside from that one kiss, you haven't touched me."

Kenneth stepped closer, his imposing figure looming over her.

"I have to monitor your behavior because you're too defiant," he growled, his breath hot against her face.

Beatrice refused to back down, tilting her chin up defiantly.

"And what's wrong with my behavior?" she challenged, her voice trembling with both anger and something else entirely.

Kenneth's eyes darkened, a dangerous glint in their depths. "You're disobedient and need to learn a lesson," he said, his voice low and rough.

Before Beatrice could respond, his hand shot out, gripping the back of her neck as he pulled her to him. His lips crashed against hers in a bruising kiss, demanding and unyielding.

Beatrice stiffened for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught. But as Kenneth's tongue swept into her mouth, tasting and teasing, she found herself melting into him, her own lips moving against his with a fervor that matched his own.

Kenneth's other hand found her waist, pulling her flush against him. Beatrice could feel the hard planes of his body, the heat of his skin seeping through the layers of fabric that separated them.

A moan escaped her as Kenneth nipped her bottom lip, soothing the sting with a swipe of his tongue.

Lost in the haze of sensation, Beatrice barely registered the fact that he was walking her backwards, not until her back hit the wall. He pinned her there with his body, his lips never leaving hers as his hands roamed over her sides, skimming over her curves with a possessiveness that made her shiver.

Just as his hand began to move up her dress, a footman's voice broke through the haze of their passion.

"Y-Your Grace, dessert is served," the footman stuttered, his face flushing with embarrassment.

Kenneth and Beatrice broke apart, both breathing heavily. Kenneth turned to the footman.

The footman looked down, clearly regretting his interruption. "I-I'm terribly sorry, Your Grace. I didn't mean to intrude," he stammered, looking like he was ready to bolt.

Kenneth's jaw tightened, but he forced himself to remain composed. "Thank you," he said curtly. "We'll be there shortly."

The footman bowed hastily and backed out of the hall.

Kenneth turned back to Beatrice, his eyes still smoldering with desire. "This isn't over," he murmured.

Beatrice's breath came in short gasps, her heart still racing from the kiss.

She watched him turn and stride back towards the dining hall, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She smoothed down her dress, trying to regain her composure before following him, the taste of his kiss lingering on her lips.

They regained their seats, the tension between them still simmering. Lady Bernmere watched them closely, a small smile playing on her lips.

Kenneth noticed and frowned. "Why are you smiling, Aunt Marjorie?"

Lady Bernmere's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Oh, nothing, dear. Just enjoying the dessert."

Beatrice forced herself to focus on her plate, her mind reeling from the kiss and the heated exchange.

The meal continued in strained silence, the atmosphere thick with unresolved tension.

As they exchanged glances, Beatrice felt a flicker of anticipation. It was clear that their evening was far from over.