Darling Duke by Scarlett Scott

Author:Scarlett Scott [Scott, Scarlett]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: romance
Publisher: Scarlett Scott
Published: 2018-07-09T16:00:00+00:00

eddings were meant to be joyous, celebratory occasions, but the breakfast immediately following Bo’s vows with Bainbridge in the chapel at Boswell Manor possessed the stilted air of a funeral. Silence reigned among the sparse guests, all close friends and family with the exception of the Duke and Duchess of Cartwright.

Naturally, the dowager duchess—who wore the pained expression of someone walking barefoot upon a bed of hot coals whenever she deigned to speak to Bo—had ignored her wishes and invited the duchess anyway. Just as the dowager had insisted upon orchids to adorn the chapel, when Bo had wanted orange blossoms and lilies. And just as Bo had selected the wedding breakfast menu only to discover upon reviewing the fifteen-course menu card before her that the dowager had once again superseded her.

Bo could not abide by fish and had made the grievous error of imparting that fact to her mother-in-law. Which was why the dowager had chosen it to be the keystone of every dish except aspics during the entrées froides portion of the menu and the entremets.

Astonishing that her mother-in-law had not finagled some way of landing kippers in the meringues à la Chantilly, but if the menu card was to be believed, Bo would need to placate her rumbling stomach with thoughts of sponge cake and chocolate cream while she drowned her sorrows in the wine glass a blessedly capable servant continued to refill.

She lifted her crystal goblet to her lips and took another fortifying sip. The wine did nothing to numb the clawing fear within her that she had just made the greatest mistake of her life, but it did fill her with a pleasant enough warmth. Yes, perhaps she ought to get soused. And then cast up her accounts on the dowager’s gown, which she had kindly confided to Bo she had worn to Bainbridge’s first wedding as well.

The notion of vomiting on her mother-in-law should not be so entertaining, but now that it had infiltrated her mind, she could not quite squelch the inappropriate laughter rising within her. Perhaps spurred on by her admittedly generous consumption of wine, a giggle bubbled forth, slipping past her lips, ruining the silence and the clink of cutlery on delicate china. All eyes turned to her, and she was acutely aware of the scrutiny of the reserved man at her side.

In the month since she had shared such scorching passion with him, he had been icy and polite, perfunctory in all his correspondence, withdrawn whenever their paths had crossed. They had not even had a moment alone since that day. Bo was certain it was by design, but the haste of their wedding and the distance between her family estate and Boswell Manor had not made matters easy either.

“What amuses you, Duchess?” he asked quietly, the timbre of his voice sending a tremor of something warm and delicious down her spine.

Duchess.

How strange to hear it said aloud, by him. To realize she was, in fact, married to the Duke of Bainbridge.

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