“Cathy is not like that,” he said with conviction. “She is stubborn and frustrating, but she is not a liar. She might attempt a lie, but she will end up confessing because she just cannot do it. Her conscience is so loud that she would not be able to live with it.”
Tristan did not really know his wife that well, but he felt the urge to defend her to his friend once more.
He did not like how Brandon raised an eyebrow, and gave him one last smirk.
Chapter 19
“You did not have to do this, Tristan,” Cathy pleaded. “I can tell them you have an estate business to tend to. I could also tell them that you had to deal with serious matters. They would believe anything that has you working or being in a bit of trouble.”
Tristan raised an eyebrow at that. Was he truly like that in the eyes of her family? He watched the nervous energy emanating from his wife, her fingers twisting a loose thread on her silk-and-lace wrap, frustrated that she could not pull it out without unraveling the whole thing. Her eyes darted to the right as if she expected her maid to rush to her with a pair of scissors. Or was she just too eager to escape him?
The scent of the crisp London air and the fencing club still lingered, but hers had begun to dominate his senses. His eyes were on her during her entire fidgety speech.
“I intend to be reasonable, Cathy. We have an arrangement. We are husband and wife, so it would be strange if I didnot attend dinner with my wife’s family. Or have you created new rules that forbid me from doing so?”
“In the normal world, you are expected to visit with me,” she replied, her eyes full of warning. “But my family is nothing short of chaotic. They may know how to behave in public, but at home, it is another matter entirely. I know you are used to precise seating arrangements and soft conversations. Believe me, Your Grace, you will feel quite uncomfortable there.”
Tristan straightened himself, a smile spreading on his face. There was no way he would stay away from such a dinner. She had just made it all the more interesting. He crowded her, the heat from her body so tangible. So close.
“What are you trying to do, Cathy?” he asked. “Are you truly trying to protect me, or are you perhaps hiding me from your family?”
A pretty blush spread from her cheeks to her chest. He reached out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. He meant it to be a quick gesture, but he lingered.
“I believe you already have an idea what my family is like. I do not think you will like being there with us.”
“How do you know what I can or cannot handle?” Tristan asked jokingly. “I have survived quite a few catastrophes. I believe I can survive a family dinner.”
He did not mention that he had barely had family dinners growing up, and he was curious about how normal people actually behaved as a family.
“Well, you may come,” she said with a sigh. “But do not tell me that I did not warn you about them.”
And so, they did go together. The carriage had not even properly halted in front of the residence when the front door swung open wildly, and urgent footsteps followed.
“He is here! The Duke is here! I told you all he would come,” a voice called.
It sounded like Madeline, the second-oldest of the Quinten daughters. She practically leaped down the steps, a whirlwind of ribbons and curls. Her youthful energy was intoxicating, and perhaps a little concerning as she ran as if she had no way of stopping, skidding to a halt only inches from the arriving carriage.
Tristan stepped out first, assisting Cathy as she descended.
“Your Grace! You are much taller than the sketches in the papers suggest,” Madeline cried.
“That is not the way to greet your brother-in-law,” Cathy muttered, at the same time as Tristan said, slightly amused, “You have seen me many times before.”
“I know. I can tell just how tall you are when you are this close to Cathy,” the girl remarked.
“Ha! I knew it was something about my height,” Cathy said.
“Dukes are supposed to be stern, but you do not look too stern,” Madeline continued.
“Madeline, let the man breathe,” Cathy admonished, but there was no real anger in her voice. She did look at Tristan withsparkling eyes that seemed to say, “I told you so.” At least, she would be getting some enjoyment in proving herself right.
“I am not stern. I believe your sister holds that title,” he said with a grin, looking at Cathy, who gave him a mock glare.
“I have thousands more questions for you and my sister? Did you ever—”
“May you please invite us inside, dear sister?” Cathy interrupted, batting her lashes comically.
“Oh, apologies, Your Graces,” Madeline said softly, changing into a more respectful tone. “May you please join the rest of us inside?”