Page 28 of Kathryn

Dulverton was solely focused on the food on his plate, which he was methodically demolishing.

Hy, for all that she was the hostess, mirrored Dulverton’s actions so completely the two might have been bookends.

The woman on Dulverton’s other side laid a hand on Dulverton’s shoulder to get his attention and then flinched when he jerked away at her touch. Those around them looked over curiously at the abrupt movement. The duke murmured something to the woman and all conversation ceased as people craned their necks to listen. He must have apologized because her tense posture relaxed, and she began speaking.

Dulverton cocked his head, attentive to what she said, his face wearing a surprisingly polite expression, certainly not one he’d ever given Katie.

Although they’d been civil to each other whenever they’d met these past two weeks, her betrothed had never been what one would call warm.

Dulverton suddenly looked in her direction, his pale, keen eyes causing her pulse to pound annoyingly fast, just as it always did. Katie hastily jerked her gaze away, looking instead at the massive ormolu clock perched on the white marble mantelpiece.

Dear God. Only five minutes had elapsed since the last time she’d sneaked a peek.

Dulverton’s breakfast companion was not the only stranger at the long banquet table; Katie was hard-pressed to recognize even half the people celebrating her nuptials. Hy had asked her if she wanted to wait until their siblings were able to attend to have the wedding, but Katie just wanted to get it over with. Besides, it would be half a year before the Bellamy siblings could all get together.

Doddy was on the Continent visiting their father, Phoebe and Selina were both expecting interesting events within the next six weeks, and Aurelia had gone on a naturalist expedition with her husband and would not return to England until just before Christmas.

Katie could not wait six months to marry. Two weeks spent in the strange netherworld of scandalously betrothed had already been far too long.

Thankfully, the Season had officially ended the week before and the younger set had fled for country house parties or Brighton. Most of the guests today were friends of Chatham’s rather than Katie’s. Not that she had many friends left at this point.

She felt a light touch on her left elbow. “I beg you will excuse me, my lord?” she said, cutting Brimley off in mid-sentence.

He blinked, looking like a stunned carp. “Oh… of course.”

Katie turned to find Andrew wearing his characteristic smirk. “Are you bleeding out your right ear?” he asked in a tone more suited to a military parade ground.

“Hush! Brimley will hear you.”

“No, he won’t,” Andrew said, making no effort to lower his voice. “Look at him.”

Katie turned just enough to look at the other man. Sure enough, Brimley was already engaged in conversation with his other breakfast companion, his voice droning on as if he had never stopped speaking.

“What a windbag,” Andrew said, ignoring her chiding scowl. “Who the devil invited him?” He squinted around at the other guests. “Who invited most of these frights? I don’t—”

“Andrew!”

He stopped talking but looked unabashed.

“It was Aunt Constance who planned everything,” she said in a low voice. Aunt Constance was a cousin of Chatham’s and not actually related to Katie, but she liked the gentle, soft-spoken woman a great deal. Constance lived at Chatham Park year-round and took care of the hundreds of details that the Duchess of Chatham would normally manage if that duchess wasn’t Hyacinth. Although Hy had been married for more than five years, she would never be a great society hostess, or even a mediocre one. But Hy and Chatham seemed to have worked out an agreement because Hy was left to her own devices most of the time. Which was just as well, because her sister’s forte was not socializing, as was evidenced by the way she was currently ignoring both her table companions.

“I suppose poor Connie was forced to scrape the bottom of the barrel as everyone has fled town,” Andrew said, nodding at the footman to replenish his champagne. Katie was already working on her third glass and briefly pondered having a fourth before coming to her senses and shaking her head.

“Why did you and Dulln—er, Dulverton wait so long to marry?”

Katie gave him a scathing look. “Do not do that again.”

Andrew did not ask what she meant. “I won’t,” he said, looking serious for a few seconds.

“You call two weeks long?” she asked.

“It is when the marriage is one of exigency.” He grinned. “Just consider poor Fowler. He was caught in parson’s mousetrap a mere three days after the infamous Night of Kissing.”

Katie suffered a well-deserved guilty pang at the mention of the big Scotsman’s hasty marriage. “I think Fowler wanted to get married quickly so that he would have an excuse to leave town and avoid my wedding.”

“That might be true. He is not your greatest admirer right now,” Andrew added with a chuckle.

That was putting it mildly. Fowler had had a special message for Katie when he’d come to hand deliver his wedding invitations to Chatham, Hy, and Katie. He had waited until the duke and duchess had stepped out of the room before cornering Katie and snarling, “If you have any decency at all then you will find yourself too busy to attend.”