Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

A nna opened her eyes, and it took her a full minute to remember where she was.

The bed was unfamiliar, the sheets and pillows were unfamiliar—the room was unfamiliar. The only thing that felt right was her nightgown, the holey old thing she’d worn for several years now.

It seemed out of place in her plush new bedroom.

Pushing herself up on her elbows, she squinted around the room.

Theodore’s empty brandy glass still stood on the table by the fire, and the curtains were cracked open, letting in a beam of light that illuminated dancing dust motes. Everything was still and quiet, nothing at all like the noisy chaos of St. Maur Manor. At home, either Daphne or Emily would have come bursting into her room by now, talking loudly and making no effort to be quiet.

Suddenly, the washroom door opened, and a woman stepped out with a pile of folded linens. Anna flinched, giving out a yelp before she could stop herself.

The woman flinched too, nearly dropping the linens.

“Oh, goodness, Your Grace, you startled me!” she gasped, pushing back a strand of honey-gold hair underneath her cap.

“I startled—you startled me ! What are you doing in my room?”

The woman straightened up. “My name is Esther, Your Grace. I’m the head housemaid, and His Grace said I should wait on you until you can hire a lady’s maid.”

Anna flushed. Of course, a duchess would need a proper lady’s maid. It had never really occurred to her, but apparently, Theodore had thought of everything.

“Oh, I see. Um, thank you, Esther.”

Esther gave a relieved smile and bobbed a curtsey, still clutching the linens. “I’ll bring your breakfast tray in a moment, Your Grace.”

Anna, who had already flung back the sheets to climb out of bed, paused. “I can go downstairs and eat breakfast.”

Esther shifted from foot to foot. “It’s just… well, His Grace always takes breakfast in his study, and Lady Katherine has hers in her nursery, and since you are a married woman now, Mrs. Haunt said that you’d take a tray in your room, and so…” she trailed off, but Anna understood her meaning. The dining room was not used for breakfast.

Perhaps a duchess might insist on having her breakfast in the dining room. It would be odd to sit in bed and eat her breakfast, but then… Well, she was a married woman, even if her wedding night had been exactly the same as any other night.

Not exactly the same, Anna thought, her cheeks flushing at the memory of the Duke’s heavy-lidded, intense gaze and the feel of his lips on hers.

And then he just walked out of the room without a backward glance, she thought, with something that felt worryingly like frustration. He probably didn’t spare me another thought all night.

She swallowed hard, pulling the covers over herself again. “I see. Of course, Esther. Bring up the tray whenever you’re ready.”

Esther bobbed another curtsey, clearly relieved, and hurried out of the room, leaving Anna alone.

“Good morning, Anna!” chirped a small voice, and that was all the warning Anna had before the door flew open and a little whirlwind entered the room.

“Good morning, Kitty.” She smiled, watching the little girl in the dressing room mirror.

Esther had insisted on brushing Anna’s hair herself, but Anna was otherwise fully dressed.

Kitty was wearing a neat red pinafore dress, and her hair was uncombed and unplaited.

Martha came panting after her, brandishing a hairbrush. “Forgive me, Your Grace,” she said, sounding weary. “Lady Katherine likes to greet her Papa every morning in his dressing room, and she said she wanted to see you, too. I said you wouldn’t want to be disturbed, but?—”

“It’s alright, Martha,” Anna said, wincing as Esther tugged on a particularly stubborn knot. “I don’t mind.”

“I want to introduce you to all the servants,” Kitty announced, perching on the edge of the bed.

Anna was suddenly very glad that she had not shared the bed with Theodore last night, not if Kitty was going to come barging in without a warning every morning.

“You’ve met Martha, of course, and Mrs. Haunt and Timmins, but there are plenty of others.”

“Mrs. Haunt has promised me a proper tour today,” Anna answered, watching Esther expertly twirl her hair into a knot atop her head, pinning it in place with jeweled hairpins that she had taken out from an enameled box. “Esther, those aren’t mine.”

“No, they’re gifts from His Grace,” Esther responded absently. “There are jewels and hair-things, and he said I was just to put them on your dresser and begin using them.”

Anna didn’t answer for a moment. Even one of those hairpins would have paid off her family’s butcher’s bill, or the grocery perhaps. A handful of them together would pay all the back wages they owed to their long-suffering servants.

And here she was, wearing jewels enough to buy food for six months. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“I can give you a tour,” Kitty suggested eagerly, oblivious to Anna’s distress.

Anna forced a smile. Kitty was only a little girl, and she didn’t want her to believe that she was upset because of her.

“I think it would be lovely if you joined me and Mrs. Haunt,” she said, at last. “But not right now. At the moment, I want to go and find Theodore. Where can I find His Grace, Esther?”

There was a brief pause. Through the mirror, Esther met Martha’s eyes quickly, only for a moment.

“His Grace doesn’t like to be disturbed in his study,” Esther said, her voice light but unconvincing. “He always says we aren’t to disturb him unless he rings.”

“I’m the Duchess, though,” Anna said, her scalp prickling. “Did he say that his Duchess would not be admitted, too? Specifically?”

There was a taut silence, and neither Martha nor Esther answered. The silence was enough of a reply, and Anna felt the color rush to her cheeks.

It is his house, she tried to tell herself. It’s not the end of the world if he forbids me from entering a couple of rooms.

“I see,” she said neutrally, and the atmosphere in the room grew more uncomfortable.

Kitty, glancing from face to face, looked rather confused.

“Papa won’t be in his study now, though,” she piped up. “He always takes a walk through the grounds after breakfast.”

Anna bit back a smile. “Thank you, Kitty. That’s very helpful.”

It took half an hour for Anna to find her new husband. The grounds were more extensive than she could have imagined, and some places were almost as wild as the gardens at St. Maur Manor. Of course, that wildness was probably due to a deliberate choice, rather than a lack of funds.

When she finally saw a familiar figure at an old Grecian folly at the top of a nearby slope, she was red-faced, out of breath, and feeling remarkably silly.

Theodore was silhouetted against the top of the hill, but she knew he was watching her as she climbed up. Her gown was a brown and gold brocade, produced from the wardrobe by Esther. Another wedding present, the maid said.

It seemed that the Duke had provided an entire change of clothes for his new wife. Anna knew she should be grateful, but really, it was rather… overwhelming.

“There you are,” Anna said peevishly, once she got to the top.

“You have certainly put in a great deal of effort to find me, my dear,” he drawled, looking cool and unruffled as always.

“I am not your dear. Am I to understand that I am forbidden from entering your study?”

“I didn’t think you’d particularly wish to see my study.”

“But I would not be admitted to your study without your express permission?”

He inspected his nails. “I like my privacy. It is an unusual request, but my servants are obedient, no matter how odd my orders seem to them. If it is an emergency, you can send a message through Timmins.”

Anna let out a long, slow breath. “And are there any other rooms I am forbidden from entering?”

“You are not to enter my bedroom, study, or parlor without permission. And…” He hesitated for an instant. “And there is a bedroom you are never to enter. The Hyacinth Room. I doubt you’ll chance upon it, and the door is always locked.”

“Well, this is very unorthodox. Do you think I’m a snoop?”

“No, I do not. I also think you’ll be entirely satisfied with the dozens, if not hundreds, of other rooms in my home. Now, is there any particular reason you interrupted my morning walk?”

She stared at him for a long moment. The wind was strong out here, whipping her hair and dress. The folly loomed over them, looking for all the world as if it were a centuries-old ruin.

She held her arms out to the sides. “Of course, there is a reason. Aren’t we going to talk about last night?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I thought I was perfectly clear. I have no intention of warming your bed until you truly want me to.”

“I thought we had an agreement.”

“We did, but agreement or not, I won’t force myself on an unwilling woman. If you are wishing my brother were here…”

“I am not !”

“Well then, convince me of it.”

There was a pause after that. Anna eyed her husband, searching for a hint of… of something . She had no idea what she was looking for, only that she was not finding it.

“You really mean it, don’t you?” she said at last, her voice flat.

He eyed her for a long moment. “I never say anything I don’t mean. That is something you should know about me.”

Anna drew in a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut. “Listen, Your Grace . The reason I agreed to your rather sordid rule about being summoned is that I want the freedom you promised. And… and more than that, I want to have a child.”

That was the first time she had admitted it aloud. Anna had long since resigned herself to spinsterhood. It wasn’t all bad, after all. She had friends and a loving family, and even if her financial situation was not good—dire, more like—she had relative freedom, something denied to many of her married acquaintances. She did not have to dance around a man’s whims like she was doing now.

But there was one thing she could not find in respectable spinsterhood, and that was children. Her own children. Babies.

Theodore raised an eyebrow, almost imperceptibly. “I did not imagine you were the maternal type, my dear.”

She sighed. “I wasn’t always. But… I have a knack with children, and I do want a child of my own someday. Not… not a large family, but one or even two children would be wonderful. And I cannot have that if you won’t give me one.”

“No,” he agreed. “It is difficult to produce children by oneself. Impossible, some would say.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m only stating a fact.”

There was a taut silence between them, broken only by the distant howl of the wind. The sky above was tumultuously cloudy, and the ground was soft and smelled fresh after the rain. Anna noticed, in a vague sort of way, that there was a narrow path up the side of the hill leading to the folly, and she wondered if Theodore made this walk every single day, never changing his route.

She deflated a little.

“Well enough, Your Grace, have it your way. We’ll get better acquainted before we start trying for an heir.”

“You are too kind,” he answered acerbically. “Are you returning to the house, then? Must I escort you back, or can you find your way?”

“Not so fast. I haven’t finished. I would like to add a condition to our new terms.”

He tilted his head to the side. “How interesting. I shall hear you, but don’t count on my accepting the new terms.”

She rolled her eyes. “You dearly love the sound of your voice, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do. Don’t you enjoy the sound of yours?” He leaned forward, grinning wolfishly. “Now that you mention it, your voice is somewhat shrill.”

Anna resisted the urge to kick him in the shins. One could never tell with this man; he might well kick her back. Harder.

“How am I to like you enough to ask for your company if I never see you?” she pointed out, rather pleased with her self-restraint.

Theodore’s lips curled into a smug, little smile. “I believe the word I used was not ask , but beg .”

She bristled. “I am not going to beg you for anything.”

He grinned. “Oh, but I think you will.”

“I think we shall agree to disagree on that point. Anyway, what I am trying to say is that we should make an effort to spend time together. You said that you were not at liberty to offer me a… a white marriage, but that is exactly what we are going to end up with if neither of us is willing to swallow our pride.”

“You could swallow your pride,” he suggested.

Anna did not bother to respond. It seemed that he had been listening, to an extent.

Shifting his weight, he pursed his lips, watching her intently. “Go on, then. What is your suggestion?”

She drew in a breath. “We spend one hour together every day. No less than an hour, and frankly, I can’t see either of us craving each other’s company for longer than that. One hour a day until we can tolerate each other, and then we get to work on making an heir.”

She took a step back, waiting for him to weigh up what she’d said. It was much easier to call it simply making an heir. An heir for Theodore, and a baby for her. A baby sibling for Kitty, too. That way, it felt like a business-like sort of thing, a contractual obligation rather than the act between men and women.

She felt her cheeks flushing again and cursed her fair skin. Anna was fairly sure that ladies weren’t meant to enjoy the act. The snippets of conversation she had heard on the subject seemed to imply that it was something to be endured rather than enjoyed, and her own mother had been resolutely silent on the matters of pleasure and pain.

It made the feelings welling up in the pit of her stomach a little confusing. Parts of her body seemed to believe the act was fascinating, and even something one might look forward to, but she suspected she was going to be disappointed. No, she would not think about it.

Think about the baby, she told herself firmly. The baby, and then he will leave you alone forever.

Why was that thought not as comforting as it should be?

“Very well,” Theodore said suddenly, jerking her out of her distinctly improper thoughts. “I agree. One hour together, each day. No less, but no more. Unless you ask for it, of course.”

“Excellent. Kitty may want to join us, and I see nothing wrong in that.”

Theodore’s eyebrows rose again, but he said nothing. There was a moment of silence between them, until he sighed, turning his back to stare up at the iron-gray sky.

“I’d say we’re in for more rain,” he remarked idly. “If I were you, my dear, I’d get back inside.”

“I will. And for the last time, I am not your dear ,” Anna threw this over her shoulder, before turning on her heel and hurrying back down the hill. She felt Theodore’s gaze burning into her back for most of the way.