Chapter 9

"Aweek?" Beatrice squeaked. "You are to be married within a week?"

Catherine couldn't help but laugh at her friend's reaction to the haste of her upcoming nuptials, even though she shared Beatrice's reservations that it was all happening too quickly.

They were sitting in the parlor at Afferton House, her friend's London residence, chatting over scones and tea. She had promised to update her friend about everything after the shock announcement this morning, after all.

"Yes, it is true," Catherine replied, before popping a corner of a scone into her mouth. "I can barely believe it myself."

"You only met him last night," Beatrice breathed, staring at Catherine and shaking her head. "You always vowed that you would never marry. It is hard to take it all in, Cathy."

"I never intended to marry," Catherine agreed, her heart lurching. "And you know the reason why." She exhaled slowly. "But these are extenuating circumstances, Bea. I already told you, the Duke has agreed to pay off the remainder of Oliver's gambling debts. I did not win enough last night at the gambling hell to cover it all."

"Oh, Cathy," Beatrice sighed, biting her lip. "If only Oliver knew about the sacrifice you are making for him. It hardly seems fair." She took a deep breath. "But I must say, the Duke of Newden is very commanding and handsome. I can see now why you let him kiss you."

"It will not happen again," Catherine barked, a determined look in her eyes. "I will not allow it…"

Beatrice's jaw dropped. "You will not allow him to kiss you again? But… you will be married, Cathy!"

"I will not," Catherine asserted in a fierce voice. "I have already compromised myself quite enough for this marriage." Her heart skipped a beat. "You know why, Bea. I will never allow myself to become so enthralled by a man that he can break my heart as my father broke my mother's heart."

Beatrice blinked rapidly. "So, you shall insist on having separate chambers at all times? You are planning to deny him his conjugal rights?"

Catherine nodded. "Yes. Do not look so scandalized. He wants a marriage of convenience just as much as I do. We promised each other that love and romance would never be a part of it."

Beatrice didn't look convinced. "I do not know, Cathy. I saw the way he looked at you this morning. He had the look of a man yearning for a lady. It might not be as straightforward as you plan."

Catherine's breath caught in her throat. She tried to ignore how her heart instantly fluttered at Beatrice's words, how it exulted at the very thought of the Duke yearning for her. Catherine picked up her teacup, sipping it, feeling immensely cross with herself. She didn't want to feel this way about him—it was a complication in an arrangement that was purely business.

"It must be that straightforward," she asserted, frowning. "I will not allow it to be any other way, Beatrice. And there has never been anything I could not accomplish if I did not put my mind to it."

"I am not experienced in such matters," Beatrice said, blushing slightly, "but it has always seemed to me that matters of the heart, or attraction, are not easily subdued. They tend to have a will of their own, dearest. Why else do people suffer so much with it if they could control it?"

"Because they have not tried hard enough," Catherine replied, taking a deep breath. "One can have a natural inclination towards another person, but one does not have to indulge it. There is still a choice in the matter. There must be."

"Well, if anyone can make that choice, it will be you." Beatrice smiled slightly. "I have never met anyone more determined and forthright than you, Cathy. You have a will of iron."

Catherine smiled gratefully at her friend. It was just the assurance that she needed.

It was true. Hadn't she just disguised herself as a boy, entered a gambling hell, and proceeded to win against the odds? It was sheer will and determination that had accomplished it. No other lady in her acquaintance would ever have been so bold to do such a thing. They would have meekly accepted the hand that fate had dealt them.

That same determination would ensure that she suppressed her feelings for the Duke. This marriage would progress on the terms she had outlined. It would not deviate. She just had to forget how she had felt when he had kissed her… for she would never feel it again.

Catherine sipped her tea pensively. A part of her was filled with disappointment at that thought, but that, too, could be controlled. By the time she walked down the aisle to become the Duchess of Newden, she would have it all under control. There simply was no choice in the matter.

"I hear you are finally putting your neck into the hangman's noose," Kenneth Spencer, the Duke of Dunford, drawled, smiling mischievously at Thomas. "The Duke of Newden is becoming a married man."

Thomas let out a bark of laughter, gazing at his old friend. They were sitting at White's, having a leisurely brandy or two over a game of cards.

Not many people could get away with speaking to Thomas like that, but Kenneth was a very old friend. They had attended Eton together and become fast friends from a very young age. They had also been the bane of their schoolmaster's existence, egging each other on with pranks, each one more outrageous than the last. They probably should have been expelled, but since they were the sons of dukes, that was never going to happen.

"It is true," Thomas sighed, throwing his cards down on the table, before picking up his brandy. "I am getting married at last, Dunford. And I wanted to ask you to be my groomsman."

"Gladly," Kenneth said, sipping his brandy thoughtfully. He gazed steadily at Thomas. "You know I will do it, old friend." He hesitated. "I am just a bit concerned about the haste of this. What do you really know about the lady?"

"I know enough," Thomas replied firmly, swirling the brandy in his glass. He grinned suddenly. "I know that she is breathtaking. A real spitfire."

"I have seen Miss Audley before at a ball," Kenneth said, grinning as well. "She is a great beauty, Newden. I can appreciate why you are so eager to marry her." He raised his eyebrows. "Still… be careful, my friend. You might just lose that hard heart of yours to her."

Thomas gave another bark of laughter. "That is unlikely, Dunford. The only reason I am marrying her is to thwart my dear grandmother's relentless matchmaking schemes… and Miss Audley is the pick of the crop." He shuddered. "You should have seen the wide-eyed simpletons Grandmother was dangling before me. Not one ounce of wit between the lot of them."

Kenneth laughed, looking delighted. "I have always thought that a proper, demure lady would never satisfy you, Newden." He raised his eyebrows. "So, you are telling me that your new fiancée's great beauty and charm has nothing to do with the marriage at all? That you are determined to remain immune to it?"

"Admittedly, her charm and beauty do make the matter rather more appealing," Thomas admitted, looking a bit sheepish. "But they are not the reason for the marriage. She knows it is a marriage of convenience. She has accepted the terms."

"Which are?" Kenneth drained his brandy, calling the footman for another.

"The terms are that love is off the table," Thomas replied, accepting another glass from the footman. He raised his eyebrows at Kenneth. "But that does not mean we cannot share a bed every now and then, of course."

"I fear you're playing with fire here, my friend, and that you might get burnt," Kenneth warned, grinning.

"I will not get burnt," Thomas scoffed a bit stiffly, even though he knew his friend was just teasing him, as always. "I will protect myself. She will not get beneath my skin. No woman ever has."

"There is a first time for everything," Kenneth teased. "You are ripe for it. A reformed bachelor discovering the delights of love for the very first time…"

"Do not speak of such a thing," Thomas interjected in a stronger tone than he intended. "Love between a man and a woman is not a source of delight, my friend. It is pain and sorrow. Inevitably, it ends, and someone's heart is broken. Maybe forever."

Kenneth looked subdued. "My apologies, Newden. I know it is a sore point for you." He took a sip of his brandy, staring at Thomas steadily. "The only thing I shall say is that I will be honored to be your best man, and we will leave it at that."

Thomas nodded, draining his brandy, before nodding to the footman to bring him another. Kenneth had stirred up old feelings that he preferred to suppress. And even though he knew his friend was teasing him, he didn't like the inference that he wouldn't be able to control himself around Catherine once they were married.

His jaw hardened again. Yes, she was very beautiful. She was spirited, charming, and clever. But he could protect himself. He must protect himself.

He must guard his heart above everything else, for he knew, through bitter experience, that it was the only thing in life that could never be recovered.

He felt a pang of unease. Would he have been better off settling for one of the wide-eyed simpletons his grandmother had pushed at him after all? Had he bitten off more than he could chew, as Kenneth was suggesting, in marring Miss Catherine Audley?

"Shall we indulge in some drinking games?" Kenneth asked suddenly, grinning from ear to ear. "To celebrate the fact that the eternal bachelor is falling from his perch?"

Thomas laughed. "Why not?"

Another round of brandy was procured. Thomas sank back in his chair, knowing it was probably going to turn into a dissolute night. But if it managed to take his mind off his impending marriage, that would be a good thing. However, he doubted very much it could take his mind off his delectable bride. That would be asking too much, indeed.