Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

“ H is Grace breakfasted early and left shortly after,” Mrs. Haunt explained, with just a hint of it’s none of your business in her voice.

Perhaps it wasn’t any of Anna’s business. Her husband— Theo— had made that abundantly clear.

However, the events of last night were still rocketing around in her head. She hadn’t slept much, going over and over what had happened. The kiss, the feelings it had evoked inside her—not proper feelings, that was for sure—and her subsequent turmoil was upsetting, to say the least.

She was meant to be busy disliking this man, spreading her wings as a duchess, and generally trying to pretend that she was not married at all.

Except for one area, of course—she was supposed to be carrying his child as soon as humanly possible. So far, there had been exactly no attempts to conceive the said child, and Anna felt…

No, not disappointed. She couldn’t possibly be disappointed at not having that man near her. It was only because he was good-looking, which only a blind woman would deny.

No, not even a blind woman, upon reflection, as Theo had a very smooth, deep voice which she supposed might be pleasant to listen to, if a woman was intrigued by such a thing.

And Anna was not, naturally.

“I see,” she said, at last, seeing that Mrs. Haunt was still waiting patiently for her response. “Well, I intend to visit my family today. I thought I might take Kitty with me. It would be a change of scenery for her, and my mother is practically her grandmother.”

Surprise flickered on Mrs. Haunt’s face. “What a kind idea, Your Grace. I’m sure Lady Katherine will be thrilled. I’ll instruct Martha to get her ready, and of course, the carriage will be ready for you whenever you wish to depart.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Haunt. And… um…”

Anna felt heat rush to her face. She had been rehearsing what she intended to say all morning, and it still felt as clunky and awkward in her head as it had when she’d first decided to broach the subject.

Mrs. Haunt, cool and collected as always, folded her hands in front of her and waited patiently.

Anna cleared her throat. “I was told I would have an allowance, as the Duchess?”

Money. Always a painful topic, and generally considered vulgar in just about any setting, if one was a woman. Mrs. Haunt, however, did not blink.

“That is true, Your Grace, although I do not know if His Grace has yet made the arrangements. I shall be sure to mention it to his steward.”

“Thank you, it’s just that… well, some of my mother’s servants haven’t been paid for a while.” Anna shifted in her seat, uneasy and uncomfortable. “We owe them back wages, and they haven’t even complained. I should like to settle those debts right away.”

Mrs. Haunt blinked. “That is very honorable of you, Your Grace, if I may say so. Write the sum you require, and I shall collect it for you. I’m sure His Grace will be happy to supply your needs in this regard.”

Anna let out a slow sigh of relief. Her heart was hammering. For such a long time, money had never been discussed in their home—although it was all anybody thought of, due to the marked lack of it—and asking for money was an almost laughable idea. There was none to be had.

But when she handed Mrs. Haunt the paper with the sum written on it, the woman didn’t even blink, only folded the paper and slipped it into her apron pocket.

“Anything else, Your Grace?”

Anna gulped. “N-Not that I can think of.”

Mrs. Haunt pursed her lips. “Would you like to tell us what time the carriage should be ready?” she asked, with just a gentle hint of suggestion.

Anna flushed at that. Of course, she was a duchess now—she had to wave her hand and casually require this to be done, or that to be done, and so it would be.

“At ten o’clock, I think. I sent my mother a note, you see, and I said I would be there at half past ten.”

Anna was vaguely aware that she was babbling, but Mrs. Haunt had the courtesy not to look shocked or annoyed. In fact, she seemed faintly amused.

“Very good, Your Grace.”

Mrs. Haunt curtseyed and slipped away, leaving Anna all alone in the vast dining room, feeling more than a little rattled.

Kitty bounced up and down on the carriage seat, fairly vibrating with excitement. Anna sat beside her, and Martha sat opposite them both, smiling fondly.

“She will be my grandmother , then?” Kitty asked for the hundredth time. “I never had a grandmother before.”

“Not one that you met, no,” Anna acknowledged. “But you had a grandmother once.”

Kitty did not seem interested in logistics. She pressed her nose against the glass as they rumbled up the drive.

After only a short time away, Anna was struck anew by how shabby the house looked, how unkempt the gardens were. The drive was rutted and potholed, the gravel worn away entirely in places. She found herself wondering what the coachman would think, and whether Martha would notice. A sense of shame washed over her, more powerful than anything she’d experienced before.

No. Stop it. You have the power and the money to change all that now. Or rather, Theo does.

A warm feeling bloomed in her chest, and she convinced herself it was just the thought of Theo arriving, like a sardonic and less-than-chivalrous knight in shining armor, ready to save her family and whisk them out of poverty and shame.

Suddenly, Daphne and Emily came tumbling out of the front door, waving and squealing with excitement, and Anna forgot about everything else.

There was no footman to come out and open the carriage door, naturally, but Anna was a little surprised to see a footman in Langdon livery hop down from beside the coachman, hurrying to her door before she could let herself out.

Daphne and Emily were waiting, and they flung their arms around their sister the moment she stepped down onto the patchy gravel.

“We missed you so much!” Emily exclaimed at the exact moment that Daphne said, “Mama told us we couldn’t visit you until you’d settled in.”

“That’s enough, girls,” Octavia said, hurrying down the steps behind them, beaming. “Give your sister a moment to breathe, for pity’s sake! Now, Anna, let me look at you.”

Smiling awkwardly, Anna held her arms out. “Well, here I am, Mama. Same as always. No change here, except perhaps a nicer dress.”

Octavia pursed her lips, her eyes roaming over the immaculately buffed and lacquered carriage, the impressive coachman and his fine horses, and the liveried footman.

“A few changes, I fancy. Now, who is this little dear?”

Anna glanced behind her and saw, to her surprise, that Kitty, overcome by shyness, was hiding behind Martha’s skirts.

“Come on out and meet my family, Kitty,” Anna said, smiling and holding out her hand. “Mama, this is Lady Katherine, daughter of His Grace the Duke of Langdon, and my stepdaughter. Kitty, this is my mother, Lady St. Maur, and my sisters, Miss Daphne and Miss Emily Belmont. Come and say how do you do.”

At an encouraging nod from Martha, Kitty edged out, gripping the sides of her skirts.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Madam,” she recited, dipping into a lopsided curtsey.

Octavia smothered a smile and bobbed a very deep, very serious curtsey in return. “The pleasure is all mine, Lady Katherine.”

Emily bobbed a similar curtsey, but Daphne, of course, could not restrain herself. With a delighted squeak, she pounced on Kitty.

“Oh, she’s the sweetest little thing ever! Good morning, Katherine. What a lovely name you have. Would you like some sugared almonds?”

Kitty perked up, her eyes going wide. “I like sugared almonds.”

“So do I, but Mama says I eat too many.”

“You do,” Octavia said in the tone of a woman who had argued this point many times before.

“We have tea and cake upstairs,” Emily chimed in. “Would you like some, Katherine?”

“My name is Kitty,” Kitty said, smiling shyly.

Emily smiled back. “Kitty, then. Shall we?”

The twins held out a hand each, and Kitty took them, her shyness forgotten, and they bounced towards the house. At a nod from Anna, Martha followed in their wake, leaving her alone with her mother.

Octavia was still eyeing the coach and horses with visible approval.

“I take it this is not his only carriage?”

“No, Mama.”

She gave an approving grunt. “You’ve landed on your feet, Anna, plain and simple. I’m proud of you. Come, walk with me.”

Octavia looped her arm through her daughter’s, and Anna leaned against her mother’s shoulder. Frankly, she’d missed the easy intimacy between a family. She missed her mother, she missed her sisters. Seeing their ramshackle old house again only sent a pang through her chest.

Homesickness, Anna thought miserably. It’s only to be expected.

“The… the Earl,” she managed, at last, noticing how her mother stiffened at the mention of the man. “He hasn’t visited, has he? Since my wedding? I don’t intend to let him bother you now.”

“I haven’t seen the man, no. But let us talk of better things and better men, Anna. I’ve hardly been able to exchange two words with you since the wedding,” Octavia said, staring ahead of her. “How are you? Are you well? Happy? Settled? How is… how is His Grace?”

Anna could read between the lines well enough.

How is he treating you? Is he the cold-hearted monster we feared?

She couldn’t, of course, talk about the deal she’d struck with Theo or the rules she had reluctantly agreed to. Even if she’d wanted to, it would be too awkward to broach the subject with her mother. Besides, what advice could her mother possibly give on such an outlandish idea?

“I’m happy enough,” Anna said firmly, speaking quickly in case her silence was interpreted as something else. “It will take me a while to settle in, I think. Everything is different. The house is… it’s huge, and the household is so complicated. The housekeeper introduced me to some of the servants, and I can hardly remember all of their names. And that wasn’t even all of them! I can’t remember their titles and ranks, and I think people will be terribly offended if I get it wrong. I took a look at the accounts, and that was terrifying. They spend more on candles every week than we spend on food, Mama! It’s just money, money, money coming in and out in constant streams, and I can’t keep track of it all.”

“It can be overwhelming, learning to manage such a large, noble house,” Octavia said carefully when Anna had run out of breath. “But you’ll manage—I’m sure you will. This housekeeper seems efficient.”

“Mrs. Haunt? Yes, she’s very pleasant. I like her. The servants are all very kind, you know, but I can’t help feeling as though they pity me. You know, because I’m so clearly out of my depth.”

Octavia sniffed. “They probably do pity you for that reason. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you earn the respect of those around you, and that comes from hard work, kindness, and efficiency. I’m sure you have those three qualities in abundance. That is how I raised you, after all.”

Anna smiled up at her mother. “Do you know, you have a way of making me feel as if everything will be perfectly alright?”

Octavia chuckled. “Yes, mothers have that sort of quality, generally speaking.”

“Do you think I’ll end up that way with Kitty? I do like her, you know.”

“I don’t see why not. Motherhood comes naturally to most women.”

Anna was silent for a while, absorbing this. “And what if I’m not the sort of woman it comes to naturally?”

“Then you’ll just have to work a bit harder. Don’t worry about it now, though. Time will tell, when you have your own children.”

Octavia looked as if she wanted to ask another question—probably about children, and conceiving the Duke’s heirs, but Anna hastily interrupted her.

“Before I forget, Mama, I have something for you.”

She took out the envelope with the money Mrs. Haunt had given her and handed it to her mother.

Octavia studied her, a muscle in her jaw ticking. “Is this money, Anna?”

Anna felt uncomfortable. “Yes, Mama. To pay the servants. I know we owe them a great deal. His Grace is going to give me a generous allowance, and I intend to ask him to help fund repairs to the house, and set aside dowries for the twins.”

Octavia said nothing, her gaze still fixed on the envelope of money. For one awful moment, Anna thought that her mother was about to hand it back. And then what would all of this have been for?

“What a wonderful thing it is,” Octavia murmured instead, “to have enough money to smooth out problems like a wrinkle in clean linen. Never take it for granted, my dear.”

“No, Mama,” Anna said, a little taken aback. “I won’t.”

With a sigh, Octavia slid the envelope up her sleeve. “I have something for you, too. It arrived yesterday, as I imagine this is the only address he has.”

“He?” Anna echoed, a shiver running down her spine.

Octavia nodded. “I’m sure you can guess who I’m referring to.”

She withdrew a small envelope from her other sleeve and handed it to Anna.

Anna recognized Henry’s handwriting immediately. Her name—her maiden name, of course, but Henry wouldn’t know that— was scrawled across the front, as well as directions to St. Maur Manor.

It occurred to her then that Henry did not know that she’d married his brother. She hadn’t told him, and nobody had the address of his lodgings.

Of course, if any of the gossips in London knew where Henry was staying, not only would it become public knowledge within a day, but he would be bombarded with letters demanding an explanation from people who were not entitled to an explanation. Doubtless, many of his so-called friends would break their necks in their eagerness to be the first to tell the shocking Lord Henry Stanley that his infamous brother had married his jilted bride.

It was all so lurid.

Shuddering, Anna dropped the letter into her pocket. She longed to read it, of course, but now was not the time. Who knew what it might say? Henry was always so indiscreet, and he might say something that should not be commonly known. If Emily or Daphne got a hold of the letter—or heaven forbid, Kitty—who knew where the information would end up?

Anna met her mother’s eyes. “You didn’t read it?”

Octavia raised an eyebrow. “You see the seal is unbroken. I’m not in the habit of violating my daughters’ privacy.”

Anna flushed. “It’s just that… I know you’re angry with Henry, and I don’t want you to try to get him into trouble.”

Her mother folded her hands in front of her waist, with the same cool, unflappable air Anna had seen in Mrs. Haunt only a few hours ago.

“I don’t deny it. If Lord Henry Stanley returns to England, he’ll have me to answer to.”

Anna shook her head. “He won’t return.”

“And does that upset you? Tell me truthfully, Anna, are you nursing a broken heart?”

To her horror, Anna found herself conjuring up an image not of Henry, her old friend, but of Theo . That wretched, infuriating man with a perfect face and that irritating smugness about him. She was never sure whether she wanted to slap him or kiss him.

Both, ideally.

Unfortunately, with their visit to the opera that very night, Anna was going to have to spend a good few hours in his presence.

She looked up, meeting her mother’s eyes squarely. “No,” she said, with perfect sincerity. “No, Mama, I am not.”