“Leave it to your mother to make an already vexing day all the more impossible, eh wot?” Leonard poured him a generous glass of brandy and then handed it to him.
Kenneth took a gulp, feeling the alcohol burn his throat. He wasn’t much of a drinker. He most certainly was not a sloppy drinker like his father had been, but he enjoyed the occasional drink after a hard day like this one.
“Well, what did the Dowager Duchess have to say to make you so Friday-faced?” Leonard inquired.
Kenneth sighed, sinking into the chair behind his desk. “Last week, she berated me at length over my lack of a wife. Wanted me to see a matchmaker. I told her I would not, she insisted I do. We parted angry, and she decided, apparently, that my words were spoken in jest, for she came by to ask why I had not yet seen the matchmaker.”
He shook his head while Leonard cackled. “That sounds like my mother, hearing only what she wishes to hear. It is a pity they are not better friends.”
“I am rather glad they are not. They’d do nothing but conspire against us at every turn, trying to find wives for us. Which is, of course, why my mother was here. She’s pressuring me to get married. Apparently, continuing the line is paramount.”
Leonard arched an eyebrow, taking a seat across from him. “Well, isn’t that the typical noble predicament? Indeed, my own mother wants me to produce an heir, a spare, and a few extra as well.”
“But you have younger brothers, therefore it is not as urgent. Or is she pushing you into the matchmakers’ arms as well?” Kenneth asked, already knowing the answer.
“Not yet, but she will soon. At least she understands that I’d rather marry for love than convenience. However, in your case,I must ask. Have you considered that marrying for convenience might not be the worst idea in your current situation?”
“You know how I feel about marriage, Lenny,” Kenneth said, reverting to their childhood nicknames—Lenny and Kenny—in hopes that it might make his friend forget that they were both dukes and remind him of the young men, the best friends, they were. For a fellow duke might not understand Kenneth’s stance, but a best friend would.
Alas, Leonard appeared determined to back Kenneth’s mother up. “In your case, it could work. People will always try to catch a duke. Mothers want you for their daughters, daughters are bound to set their caps for you, and fathers want a duke in their family. And as a duke, it is expected to have an heir, even if you have some distant cousin who would inherit the title should you stick your spoon to the wall early.”
Kenneth’s eyes met Leonard’s with a steely resolve. “I never cared about being a duke, Leonard. It’s never been my priority. I’m committed to stepping into the role to honor Edward, but marriage is not on the table for me. Not an arranged marriage, and certainly not a love marrriage.”
Leonard leaned back, assessing Kenneth’s stubborn stance. “I understand, old friend. But think about it. Having a wife can help you navigate Society. It is not just to conceive an heir. It might make your life a bit easier. And, who knows, you might even find someone tolerable. Choose a woman who wants a marriage of convenience. At least, it will ensure that your mother stops bothering you.”
Kenneth shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Tolerable is not the benchmark I’m aiming for, Leonard. Tolerable is what my parents found with each other, and it was misery for all of us, especially after Edward died. No, I will not make the same mistakes.”
“Very well, but do not reject the possibility. You might find yourself coming upon just the right woman at the right time. Promise me you will not shut your eyes just for the sake of it.”
Kenneth stared at his friend, ready to chide him for such a foolish suggestion, but then he wondered if perhaps Leonard was right. Could a woman enhance his life, at least in a practical way? If so, where would he find such a woman?
He scoffed when he thought of to the fiery young lady he’d met earlier that day. He surely had come upon her unexpectedly, and she was single. But if rude, impertinent women like her were the ones the ton had to offer, then he’d rather stick to his decision—and die an old man, unwed and unburdened by marriage.
CHAPTER 3
The following afternoon, Kenneth entered Hyde Park with a stomach heavy with apprehension. He’d hardly slept because of his mother and best friend’s separate assaults upon his chosen state of bachelorhood.
One would think they had somehow coordinated their efforts, but Kenneth knew well enough that his mother wasn’t fond of Leonard, just as Leonard was not fond of her.
No, their separate lectures had been unexpected and unrelated, and thus were all the more upsetting. Kenneth knew that at his age, he should be considering marriage. He understood that it was socially anticipated. Indeed, sometimes he felt awkward when he had to attend dinners, balls, or the opera without a wife. Frequently, he found himself with rather too much female attention, and he got the feeling that some of his peers did not respect him as much due to his not having anyone to inherit his title after he died.
His mother was right, the aristocracy valued stability. But did he really have to have a wife and heir to be respected? He had often wondered if his aspirations would be harmed by his desire to remain unwed. While he’d never wanted to be a duke, he knew he had a duty toward the people who lived on his estate, toward the charities he cared about. Most of all, he wanted desperately to live up to the expectations Edward would have had of him.
Kenneth sighed as he made his way along the Serpentine. The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden hue over the park, and Kenneth strode with purpose, his eyes searching for Lord Carlisle amidst the vibrant sea of blooming flowers and well-dressed gentlemen and ladies. The air buzzed with genteel conversations and laughter he was keen to avoid.
Promenading was never something he had enjoyed, and if he wasn’t on his way to meet Lord Carlisle, he would have avoided the area with great care. Alas, today, he could not. He rounded the corner at the bend, where the river flowed north, when a sudden bark jolted him out of his thoughts. He looked down just in time to see a small puppy running up to him. At once, his heart felt lighter, and he bent down to the little creature, realizing by the black and white markings on its fur that it was a Dalmatian.
“Good day, little fellow,” he said softly and let the animal sniff his hand. Then, he petted it and earned a few licks in exchange.
He beamed at the animal, remembering the many happy hours he and Edward had spent with the dogs at their country estate. After Edward’s death, their father did not allow the dogs intothe house anymore, claiming that they were painful reminders of Edward’s absence. The fact that he was hurting Kenneth by depriving him of the canine love evidently had not mattered.
“Who do you belong to, little one?” Kenneth asked and lifted the small puppy while scanning the area.
The dog was not wearing a collar, and nobody was nearby—at least nobody seemed to have lost their dog. Determined to find the owner, Kenneth walked across the grass, away from the river. The puppy settled in his arm, licking his face.
“Now, don’t do that. I don’t know where your tongue has been. Are you hungry? I suppose I could rustle up some?—”
“Give me back my dog!” a voice called, followed by the sound of dry grass crunching under hurried footsteps.
