Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

I f there was any surprise at all from the ton regarding the Duke of Burgess's marriage to the quiet and oft-overlooked Miss Rose Nottingham, it was a surprise that the majority of people seemed keen to mask under enthusiastic congratulations and public avowals that they had always known the couple had been courting. The crowds of well-wishers (and, likely, plenty of curious onlookers) that lined the streets outside St. Paul's Cathedral on their wedding day proved largely disproportionate to the small number of living close relations the bride and the groom possessed. But Rose's innate joy as a person hadn't managed to survive the ups and downs of her young life due to her being petty or spiteful—and she was not about to start now after just having become the Duchess of Burgess.

"Will they never cease coming?" Frederick asked her under his breath, sounding rather sincerely astonished as the guests continued to pour into Nottingham House for the wedding breakfast afterwards. The old ballroom had been revived for this particular occasion, and Rose could not help feeling quite moved whenever she watched Mama in her element, smiling and greeting everyone, looking quite the grandest hostess in the land. It was a role Mama, and Violet, seemed to relish wholeheartedly. It was a role Rose was not averse to playing, but she was rather thankful that both she and Frederick much preferred the quiet of the countryside over the grandiosity of the London Season.

"I suppose we are something of a curiosity," Rose whispered back between greeting another set of lords and ladies. She recognized all the faces in the room, but she hardly considered all of them as belonging to a particularly close circle of acquaintances with her family. Elevated alliances seemed to bring with them a small deluge of people suddenly believing themselves to be essential to one's life. "One cannot quite countenance why the most eligible bachelor of the Season would marry a woman from a family long past its prime."

Frederick's hand warmed hers from the small of her back, rendering her rather flushed from the memories of the kisses they'd stolen in the carriage on the way from the church. Rose had argued about the decency of drawing the curtains shut on such a fine day, but Frederick had insisted—for good reason.

"Your family is every bit respectable, and those who think otherwise are fools."

"Some might consider you the fool in this situation then, Your Grace."

"Perhaps I have been, Your Grace ." Frederick sent her a sidewise grin that sent unholy somersaults twirling her belly. "For not realizing the perfect duchess had always been beside me."

"I was hardly contending for the position."

"Exactly why you are perfect."

They traded a private look despite the highly public event, and Rose dearly wished it could be considered proper to throw her arms around her husband in the middle of the receiving line .

Who knew that her talent for knowing everything about everyone, a talent she had determined to use only for good, could result in doing herself the greatest good in the end? Twice now, Lady Cordelia had tried to use her manipulative ways to make matches she desired—only to inadvertently produce matches that were far superior in their place.

Rose smiled at the thought, earning her a curious, almost teasing, raised brow from her husband. Teasing might be the farthest thing she'd ever think to associate with the shy, proper Duke of Burgess, but she was not about to complain when said look sent her insides melting into a warm puddle of pliant happiness.

"Our heartiest congratulations, Your Grace." Percy, with his week-long bride on his arm, arrived next in the receiving line. The look of mischief in her new cousin's eyes indicated that he'd recognized full well how he'd intruded on their little moment. "I must admit it a bit of a relief to finally see you married."

"Percy, how rude!" his wife chastised with a flick of her fan while the man grinned unrepentantly. She turned to face the newlyweds with the sweetest smile. "We are so very happy for you, for both of you."

"Finally," said Frederick, "someone understands that I am the fortunate one."

"I'd say I am the lucky one, rather," said Percy, "for now Her Grace can finally take you off my hands."

Rose laughed. "I don't think there was ever a lack of volunteers for the task."

"None palatable." Frederick shuddered.

"They are our guests!" Rose hissed, though she struggled to keep the humor out of her voice. "Can you not wait until we're alone to jest like that?"

Suddenly, his eyes were anything but teasing. He tugged her in by the waist until her chest pressed against his, his nose brushing the edge of her hair. Rose felt her lungs constrict. She barely noticed Mr. and Mrs. St. John, themselves newly married, slipping away with a shared chuckle as her very own Frederick whispered, low and magnetic, "There is plenty waiting for when we're alone. Can we not have the breakfast done sooner?"

"I hardly think there is anything I can do about it." Rose whispered back, voice shaky.

"You do know all our guests, do you not? Is there nothing that repels them? No common aversion or universal concern that can have them withdrawing of their own accord?"

"Nothing short of declaring that the cellar had rats last year."

Her Frederick grinned. "I suppose that is something."

"Mama would faint of mortification if word were to ever get out."

"But if the rats were there, then it would be our duty to inform our lofty visitors, would it not?"

"Only if the rats were indeed there."

"I thought I might have spotted a tail yesterday when I was calling."

"You never even went close to the cellar!" Rose laughed.

"Dukes have a premonition for such things, don't you think?"

"Dukes are not all powerful." Rose grinned.

"A pity." Her husband smiled down at her. They shared the moment for a few more heartbeats before he sighed and stole a glance at his pocket watch. "Shall we give everyone a good two hours? If they do not vacate of their own volition, I just might conjure some other vermin on my own."

"Spiders, perhaps? Or perhaps a cockroach or two?"

Frederick smiled. "I'm sure we'll think of something."