The Duke's Accidental Wife (Dukes of War Book 7) (10 page)

Ravenwood’s relentless self-control might make him a bore at parties, but his strong work ethic and prioritization of duty were qualities one could not help but admire. He was an excellent duke and a great asset to the House of Lords. And he had thus far been an exceptionally understanding husband.

If their home life were considerably more relaxed, their joyless union might become more than enjoyable. She had missed him while he was at Parliament. She would make him miss her, too. They could have a happy marriage, she was certain. It would just take time.

She would be the best possible wife. And an exemplary duchess. Starting with making friends with the first guests to pay their respects.

Excitedly, Kate looped her arm through her aunt’s and headed to the front parlor to meet her new cousins. The redheaded man’s face brightened the moment she and her aunt entered the room.

“Your grace!” he exclaimed. “I see my cousin is not yet present to perform the introductions, so I will simply have to do them myself. I’m Quentin Blaylock. These lovely women are my wife and my mother, both conveniently sharing the name Mrs. Blaylock.” He laughed, as did his wife.

His mother did not.

“Pleased to meet you, your grace,” said the younger Mrs. Blaylock, smiling widely. “Pardon me if I don’t curtsey—I’m afraid if I attempt the maneuver, I’ll tumble over and have the baby right here.”

A laugh startled out of Kate’s throat at the incongruous comment. The Blaylocks were delightfully vulgar and oddly charming, all at the same time. She could scarcely believe them related to Ravenwood at all.

“The pleasure is mine, I assure you. This is my great-aunt, Mrs. Havens. And as you’ve already surmised, I’m…” She hesitated.

On the one hand, it felt queer to be constantly referred to as
Her Grace
instead of by her name. On the other hand, this was Ravenwood’s house and Ravenwood’s family, and perhaps she ought not be too quick to dispense with formalities without her husband here to guide her.

“I’m the new duchess,” she said instead. “I’m afraid I am still getting used to the role.”

“What’s to get used to? I’m sure my cousin takes care of absolutely everything,” Mr. Blaylock said teasingly, then shot a pointed look at his mother. “That’s Papa’s doing, you know. Always saying
you’d make a horrid duke
and
you’ll never live up to your father
—”

“Old history,” the elder Mrs. Blaylock hissed. “And not something that should be discussed with the new duchess.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “She ought to know who she’s speaking with, don’t you think?” He leaned toward Kate and lowered his voice. “I’m second in line for the title, third once you do your duty. We live in Shropshire. It’s a small country cottage, but you’re welcome anytime. Ravenwood’s like a brother to me. A distant one. It’s my father he can’t stand. Can’t say I blame him. Whenever Father has too much drink, he likes to remind the room at large that he’s one bad shellfish away from becoming duke.”

Kate clapped her hands to her mouth in horror. Poor Ravenwood!

“No, no, we’re used to him spouting off,” Mr. Blaylock assured her. “It’s just his way. That’s why Father hasn’t been allowed on this property since the moment Ravenwood reached his majority. Where
is
the blighter, by the way? Never say he’s too busy with paperwork to share a meal with his family.”

“I…” She shot a desperate glance at Aunt Havens, then nearly sagged in relief when a familiar brunette walked in the front door.

“Cousin!” Lady Amelia handed her pelisse to a footman, then bussed cheeks with the Blaylock family. “I have just informed the groundskeeper that yes, you may do a spot of fowling after luncheon.”

The younger Mrs. Blaylock’s mouth fell open. “How did you—”

“Lady Amelia knows everything,” Mr. Blaylock interrupted with a laugh. “She probably sensed a weight difference upon our carriage axles and deduced the presence of a sporting gun on board for flushing partridge. How do you do, cousin? Isn’t married life grand?”

“It is indeed,” Lady Amelia agreed. “You must be starving. If you’ll follow me to the dining room, lunch will be served shortly. And never you fear—neither fish nor strawberries shall be present at the table.”

Kate’s face heated as her stomach twisted. Lady Amelia was no longer mistress of this house, yet
she
had ordered the staff.
She
had chosen the menu.
She
had known what should be served and not served, and at precisely what time.

Meanwhile, Kate had spent the morning peering out a picture window like an insipid child awaiting Father Christmas. Just because she’d been looking forward to seeing her husband and meeting new people.

Kate swallowed. The moment the Blaylocks left, she would dedicate herself to learning everything she could about running the estate.

Her throat went dry. The prospect suddenly seemed overwhelming.

She took her place across from her husband at the table. Or would have, were he present. He had not left the grounds—her morning vigil by the front window ensured she would have noticed a departure—and he, too, must be suffering hunger pangs by now.

Which could only mean he was avoiding the party on purpose. She hesitated. Were his cousins too “common” for his taste?

She frowned. Despite the Blaylocks’ country vulgarity, they were family. Ravenwood’s conspicuous absence dishonored himself as much as it did his cousins.

Not that she should have expected otherwise. He rarely presented himself in society as anything less than a holier-than-thou sovereign, and was operating precisely as advertised. She bit her lip.

Now that she was his duchess, would he expect her to follow his example and eschew contact with individuals of lesser status?

Her stomach tightened. If he was too good for his own cousins, he no doubt despised her associations with musicians, artists, and those who aspired to be such. In avoiding the lower classes, he was missing out on getting to know the largest percentage of the country he loved so much.

Well, Kate would not adhere to such an edict. Instead, she would do as Lady Amelia did, and treat the Blaylocks—and all people—with empathy, respect, and unflagging politeness.

Aunt Havens, who had spent decades married to a parson, conversed freely with all parties at the table without batting a single eyelash. As a midwife for most of those years, Aunt Havens had seen everyone in Maidstone at their best and their worst, and treated them all the same.

That was the example Kate had grown up with, and the one she intended to follow.

It might not be a duchessy attitude, but it was the only course Kate could take and still live with herself.

She threw herself into the conversation as if it were one of the many dinner parties she’d hosted at her townhouse over the years. She told amusing anecdotes, inquired into each Blaylock’s individual hobbies and aspirations, and listened with a genuine smile on her face to let them know how pleased she would be if they continued to stop by for visits.

After they quit the dining room for a promenade out-of-doors, however, she quietly asked the butler whether her husband was indeed hard at work in his office.

“No, your grace,” Simmons answered, his eyes thoughtful. “His grace has spent the past few hours in his garden.”

In his
garden?
Kate was so nonplused by this explanation that the butler returned to his post before she could think of anything else to say. She turned around to discover Lady Amelia watching her in silence.

Kate raised her chin. “Am I missing something? Something else, I mean?”

“I’m afraid you might be,” Lady Amelia said softly. “Ravenwood’s garden is his private sanctuary. Only he has the key.”

“Ravenwood…has a secret garden?” Kate repeated uncomprehendingly. “Why is he there instead of here?” She shook her head. “I suppose a duke can do as he pleases.”

“Not often.” Lady Amelia’s expression was gentle. “My brother doesn’t just feel uncomfortable around his cousins. He feels uncomfortable around
people
. All people.”

Kate stared at her. Ravenwood? Uncomfortable around people?

“He hates the attention,” Lady Amelia explained. “Of being expected to say or do the right thing in all circumstances. And yet, as duke, it is his duty to stand out in Parliament, mingle in society, and converse at dinner parties. He forces himself to do so for as long as he can, but occasionally it becomes too much, even for him, and he seeks a moment of peace alone in his garden. He’ll make himself known before our cousins leave. Ravenwood would never shirk his duty entirely.”

Kate’s eyes widened in belated understanding. Ravenwood didn’t hate commoners any more than peers. He hated being forced to interact with
people
. All of them.

“Getting him to attend the charity auction took every wile at my disposal,” Lady Amelia confessed. “I doubt even I will be able to convince him to attend another public event for a very long time.”

Kate’s cheeks heated as she compared her quick judgment of Ravenwood’s absence today with the conversation they had shared the day before. She had demanded his presence at her upcoming event without a single thought to how he might feel about attending. She had assumed any disinterest would be due to the inferiority of the persons involved, and dismissed any reluctance as ducal hauteur.

In reality, she had invited him to attend his worst nightmare.

Not just attend… Sit in the front row. Speak with his peers. Sponsor the performers. Make a public spectacle of himself.

And he had said yes. For her.

Her breath caught.

She followed Lady Amelia to the door, but hesitated before joining the others for a promenade.

The only thought in her head was Ravenwood. She wished she could go to him. Thank him. Tell him he needn’t worry about entertaining guests in the future. She wouldn’t put him through it. If he needed his space, she would give it to him.

Even if it meant being lonely, herself.

“Your grace?” The butler’s voice was low, his eyes kind. “The staff is on standing orders to answer every question you might pose of us and to grant every request. If you like, I shall have a footman escort you to his grace’s private garden immediately.”

Kate shook her head, throat tight. “No, thank you. When he wishes me to know where it is, he will invite me himself.”

Chapter Ten

From that moment forward, Kate spent every waking moment learning everything she could about managing the Ravenwood household. These were the skills her husband valued. By mastering them, he would come to value her, too.

There was just so much to learn. The estate was twenty times as large as her little townhouse had been. The grounds, even larger.

A sleepless week flashed by. There were so many servants, so many rules, so many ways for things to go wrong. But she could do it. She had to. This was her life now. And the most obvious way to impress her husband.

Kate rubbed her face. She would prove herself a worthy duchess if it killed her. She smiled grimly. It might.

She had barely slept these past several days. due to long hours of interviewing the staff and everyone they interacted with. She did her best to learn and memorize everything she could. Ravenwood was worth it.

He deserved a wife he could be proud of. Kate wanted to
be
someone he could be proud of. She wanted to be important. Not to the estate, but to him. She wanted to be missed.

Even half as much as she missed him.

The running of Ravenwood House was a great deal of work. Learning the inner workings was even harder. Kate didn’t mind work—in fact, she thrived on it, which was one of the main reasons she’d started her museum—but this was different.

Ravenwood House was supposed to be her new home. Yet she awoke each morning with the sensation of living in someone else’s house. She rubbed her forehead and stared at her piles of notes.

While he spent his days in his office and his nights at Parliament, she’d begun journals. She kept records of staff, schedules, duties, and restrictions, much the same way she kept detailed notes of every object’s history and provenance in her antiquities museum. The thought made her miss her old treasures all the more.

This
was
someone else’s house. Ravenwood’s, to be precise, even though he was rarely here. But their home was meant to be Kate’s as well. She shouldn’t have to feel so out-of-place and lonely.