Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

A nna lay on her back, the scrubby grass sticking through the picnic blanket and stabbing into her shoulders, and eyed the invitation.

It had arrived only an hour ago, hand-delivered, and fashionably late. The card was thick and creamily expensive, the words printed with gold gilt and embellished in the corners.

In short, it was the sort of invitation the Belmont family had not received in a very, very long time.

The Duke and Duchess of Fairhaven Request the Presence of

Lord and Lady Stanley, Duke and Duchess of Langdon

To an Evening Supper and Ball on the 14th of This Month

It was a brusque invitation, but that wasn’t the point. Anna had seen the Duke and Duchess of Fairhaven before, albeit from a distance. They’d swept through a ballroom, arm in arm, all glittering sequins and lace and feathers and every imaginable bauble and jewel placed somewhere on their person. A footman flanked them, whispering the names of each person they passed, although the Duke and Duchess did not seem impressed by any of them.

They held their heads high and looked down their long noses at everyone as they passed. Anna and Beatrice had curtsied as they passed by but barely received a glance. Anna wondered if they would remember her. Certainly not.

Turning the invitation over, she saw that there was a postscript on the back, written in an elegant, flowing hand that had to belong to the Duchess of Fairhaven.

My dear Lady Stanley,

Congratulations on your nuptials! I look forward to furthering our acquaintance. If you please, write a note to the address above to confirm your attendance.

Much Love, Lady Tether.

Anna stared at the letter for a minute or two before it occurred to her that now, she was of equal rank to the haughty Duchess of Fairhaven. Clapping a hand over her mouth, she smothered a laugh.

“Anna! Have you finished reading that tiny note? Look at what I made.”

“Coming,” Anna called, hauling herself up onto her elbows.

Kitty sat some way away, on a picnic blanket of her own, apparently making mud pies. Martha knelt beside her, a handful of wildflowers on her lap, watching.

It was almost evening, and Anna had spent most of the day exploring her new home. There were countless doors and rooms, some of which seemed to have no purpose. Even St. Maur Manor, at the height of its splendor, was nothing in comparison to Langdon House.

She did find The Hyacinth Room. It was at the very end of a corridor, dark and dusty with neglect, the door itself in need of repainting. A cobweb was spun between the handle and the door frame. She tried the handle, of course, but as Theodore had said, it was locked.

And then Kitty came to find her, and it was clear the little girl was bored. When Anna suggested a picnic, she thought Kitty would fly into the air from pure excitement.

She walked over to Kitty’s picnic blanket and was duly shown the collection of mud pies the girl had made, decorated with flowers.

“Very pretty, you’ve certainly—no, no, Kitty, don’t wipe your hands on your dress!” Anna yelped. Martha smothered a smile. “Why don’t you go and rinse off your hands in that pool over there? Don’t get too close to the edge.”

Kitty ran off gleefully, and Anna sank down onto the blanket with a sigh.

“Is she having a good time, do you think?” Anna asked. She glanced over at Martha, only to find her staring back incredulously.

“Your Grace, I can’t remember the last time somebody took Lady Katherine out for a picnic,” Martha said carefully. “We stay inside, mostly. His Grace doesn’t like her being outside without him to watch her, and I suppose now that you’re here…” she trailed off, clearing her throat. “Lady Katherine likes you very much already, Your Grace.”

Anna allowed herself a small smile. “I’m glad. She’s a sweet girl. What do you generally do all day?”

Martha shrugged. “A few lessons, but nothing too taxing. Reading and writing, of course, and some arithmetic. A proper governess will need to be engaged soon, but… but His Grace has been putting it off. Then we play.”

“Does she have friends? People to visit?”

Martha shook her head. “We mostly stay here, Your Grace.”

Anna bit her lip, feeling troubled. A seven-year-old girl should have more than the walls of her house—even if it was a mansion—and the servants to expand her mind. It was clear that all the servants adored her, and she loved them, but Kitty would eventually grow into a young lady. There was plenty of time for her to be a child, of course, but soon, her tastes and inclinations would start to change, and she might start to feel… well, cooped up.

“We need to engage a governess for her, soon,” Anna heard herself say. Martha straightened up just a little. “And she will need dancing lessons, music lessons, and lessons in drawing and watercolors and so on. Perhaps she won’t enjoy those things, but she can try. She can learn sewing—it’s a handy skill, and embroidering can be extremely artistic.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Martha said eagerly, looking as though she were coming alive. “Lady Katherine loves music. I think if she had the opportunity, she would be very good at several instruments.”

“Then we’ll arrange it. I think it would be nice if she spent some time in the kitchen, if Cook is willing to show her how to make a few simple recipes. Of course, I can’t imagine that Kitty will ever have to cook and bake for herself, but you never know, and it’s very rewarding to make a thing with one’s own hands. Oh, and she needs to meet other children her age. I’ll try to make some inquiries and see who might make a suitable friend for her.”

Martha was beaming now. “What a fine idea, Your Grace! I’ve thought for a while that Lady Katherine needed… needed more than this, but His Grace never…” she trailed off, blushing. “I’m sorry. It’s not my place.”

Anna shifted to face her. “No, go on, really. Tell me. I won’t be upset.”

Martha bit her lip. “His Grace loves Lady Katherine very much, that is clear. But… but he doesn’t seem to understand that she’s growing up. She’s not a baby anymore. The things that interested her when she was five are boring to her now, and it’ll only get worse as she grows. And… well, you know how young girls can be when they hit twelve or thirteen years old. Before then, even. I don’t know how His Grace will react when Lady Katherine has her first tantrum. She’s a sweet thing, but strong-minded. Already she gets bored so often, and I simply don’t know how to entertain her anymore.”

She dropped her gaze to the wildflowers in her lap. “I worry that she’ll grow up surly and nasty, like a plant cramped by a too-small pot and not enough light.”

On impulse, Anna reached out and touched the back of Martha’s hand. “You’re a kind woman, Martha, and a good nurse. Well, His Grace made it very clear that as his wife, Kitty is my responsibility, and I intend to make changes. That includes everything I told you and more.”

Martha flinched at that, and it occurred to Anna that perhaps she shouldn’t have been so forthright about the reasons behind her and Theodore’s marriage.

Well, really. Nobody thinks we are a love match, do they? It’s a marriage of convenience, especially since I was jilted at the altar only a week ago. It’s not as if anyone else would have had me.

A shiver ran down Anna’s spine, a reminder of just how close she’d been to absolute ruin.

She wondered, not for the first time, what her mother and sisters were doing without her. It felt like they’d been apart for a lifetime, not just one day.

This time yesterday, I was floating through the ballroom in a daze, unable to come to terms with the fact that I was married and a duchess.

It still doesn’t feel real.

Kitty came scampering back, her hands and her arms clean, beaming. “There are fish in the pond,” she confided. “You know, there’s a big lake behind the house, Anna, but Papa said I’m not to go there alone.”

“He’s right, Lady Katherine,” Martha said sternly. “It’s a wide, deep lake, and you don’t know what might happen. It’s best to be safe, at least until you learn how to swim.”

Kitty pursed her lips, considering this. “I would like to swim.”

“Would you? Then you’ll have swimming lessons,” Anna said, almost absently, but it was quite a reward to see how Kitty’s face broke into a wide smile.

“Will I, Anna? Will I really?”

“Of course. It’s excellent exercise and a handy skill to have. I was just talking to Martha about all the things you could learn now that I’m here. Music, dancing, and painting, and much more. Would you like to try all of those things?”

Kitty nodded eagerly. “I would, I would! Wait… did Papa suggest it?”

“No,” Anna admitted, and Kitty’s smile dropped. “I’m sure he just didn’t think of it, though.”

“He never thinks of it,” Kitty mumbled. Some of her enthusiasm was gone, and she sagged onto the blanket beside Anna, drawing her knees up to her chest.

Biting her lip, Anna glanced sideways at Martha, who was staring down into her lap again.

“Martha, could you bring out a fresh tea tray? Maybe with some of those jam tarts Cook made earlier?”

Martha nodded, getting to her feet. Anna glanced over at the little girl to see if the mention of jam tarts had cheered her.

It hadn’t.

“Kitty?” she asked carefully. “What’s the matter? Are you upset that your papa didn’t arrange for music lessons before now?”

“It’s not that,” Kitty mumbled, twisting the hem of her skirt over and over into little pleats between her fingers. “I know that Papa loves me, but sometimes… sometimes I don’t feel that he likes me very much. I think he finds me boring.”

Anna’s heart clenched in her chest. “Oh, your poor thing. You mustn’t think that—your papa adores you.”

He married me so that you would be better taken care of, after all.

Kitty sniffed. “We play chess sometimes, which is very nice, but Papa always seems distracted. I go to his room to say good morning every day, because if I don’t, I won’t see him at all. And… and chess is so very boring! It’s boring, Anna!”

Anna bit back a smile. “I must confess, I don’t have a knack for chess. Why don’t you tell your papa you don’t want to play?”

“Because then we won’t do anything together! And… and there’s more.”

Anna swallowed hard, nodding slowly. “Go on, Kitty. I don’t mind, you can tell me everything.”

Kitty drew in a breath. “I heard two of the maids talking outside the nursery. They said that Papa had to marry again because he needed a son to be his heir. I don’t understand that. Why isn’t he happy with me? Aren’t I his heir?”

Anna felt a little like she was drowning. She tried her best to stay calm and cool—the adult in charge—but she suspected that her panic was showing.

“Your papa loves you,” she repeated firmly. “The thing is, with dukes and earls and their titles, it has to go to a boy. That’s the law. That’s why he needs a son. Otherwise, this house and the title and everything in it and more will go to someone else.”

It occurred to her right then that it would go to Henry, and then Henry would likely not have children, and the title and estate would go to some distant cousin, or perhaps go extinct and be dissolved.

She cleared her throat. “It’s… it’s the law.”

Kitty stuck out her lower lip. “It’s a stupid law.”

Anna bit her lip. “Yes, it is a stupid law, but a law nonetheless.”

“So… so, do I not have anything, Anna?”

“Of course, you do! Kitty, you can have anything you want. You can do whatever you want. Or at least, you’re going to be able to when you grow up. You just can’t be the Duke of Langdon like your papa.”

This seemed to have soothed Kitty, at least a little. She leaned back on her elbows, weighing up this new piece of information.

“I don’t mind not being the Duke of Langdon,” she said, at last. “It seems like a lot of work. Papa is always working, and he never has time for anything. He hardly ever smiles, and he doesn’t laugh even when I make the funniest jokes. I think it’s all because he’s a duke. Maybe Uncle Henry ought to have been the Duke of Langdon instead.”

Anna flinched at the unexpected mention of Henry.

“Oh, did you meet your papa’s brother, then?”

Kitty nodded. “Not very often, but I like Uncle Henry. He is nice.”

“What’s all this about Uncle Henry?”

They both flinched at the familiar voice.

Anna twisted around, squinting up at the silhouette looming over her. The setting sun shone behind Theodore, casting him into shadow, and she had to shield her eyes to look up at him. His expression, as usual, was unreadable.

He was looking at her though, waiting for her to respond.

“I was telling Kitty why she can’t be the Duke of Langdon,” Anna said at last. Best to go with the truth.

Behind him, Martha was padding across the lawn, carrying a tea tray. Theodore shifted, blocking out the sun enough for Anna to see his face. He looked exhausted, actually, with lines of strain around his eyes. She wondered where he’d been all day. She briefly considered asking him about it, but their relationship wasn’t the sort where they sat down and talked about their day.

“Eating out here, are you?” he remarked. “It’ll be dark in an hour. Shouldn’t you be getting inside?”

Anna breathed in. “Actually, we’re waiting out here to look at the stars. It was Kitty’s suggestion. She found a book on astronomy in the library, and although it’s incredibly difficult for us to read, we thought we might stay up late and pick out some constellations.”

“I want to see the Pole Star,” Kitty announced. “And Ursa Major . Didn’t you say once that you could always find the Pole Star, Papa?”

“Indeed, I can,” Theodore said, half turning away. “It sounds as if you have a fun evening ahead of you.”

“Why don’t you stay out with us, Papa?” Kitty said, with a note of desperation in her voice that made Anna want to cry. “You can help pick out the constellations.”

“I don’t think—” Theodore broke off as his daughter flung herself at him, grabbing his arm and pulling hard, trying to get him to sit down.

“Oh, please stay with us, Papa!” Kitty pleaded. “It would be so nice if you did. You know so much about stars and stuff. Anna, wouldn’t it be nice if Papa stayed?”

Theodore glanced over at Anna, his eyebrows half-raised as if he expected her to recoil or make some excuse that would let him escape.

Instead, she met his eyes squarely and lifted her chin. “What a lovely idea, Kitty. I think that would be very nice. Thank you for the tea, Martha. Just put it down here. Oh, and could you fetch another picnic blanket? I believe His Grace will be joining us.”

Theodore held her gaze for a moment, and she could have sworn that a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.