Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

T he door flew open with a crash . Perhaps it was just because she was so highly strung, but Anna nearly leaped out of her seat, giving a strangled squawk.

A girl of about seven years old, wearing a crumpled and worse-for-wear yellow gown and what seemed to be galoshes, came skipping in. She had pale blonde hair, nearly white, divided into one long braid on one side of her head and a mass of tangled curls on the other.

Anna suspected that the girl’s hair had been in two braids earlier that morning.

“Papa, you said we’d play…” the girl began, and immediately trailed off when she saw Anna. She skidded to a halt, her large, chocolate-brown eyes widening. “Oh. Good afternoon. Who are you?”

“Kitty, really,” the Duke chided, inspecting his nails. Anna had never known a man to fidget so with his fingers. “Where are our manners?”

The girl blushed and dipped into a lopsided curtsey. She wobbled for an instant but regained her balance at the last moment and rose awkwardly to her feet.

“I’m sorry. But, Papa, you said we’d play chess.”

“You must be Katherine,” Anna said, rising to her feet with all the dignity she could muster, considering she was wearing a stained and torn wedding dress. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Miss Belmont.”

Katherine smiled nervously up at her. “You’re ever so pretty.”

Anna flushed. Compliments always meant so much more when received from a child. Children rarely lied about things like that.

“Thank you. I’m a little… a little disheveled, you see. The rain, you know.”

The girl nodded somberly. “Yes, I know. See how muddy my shoes are.”

She stuck out her foot, which was currently dripping with mud and rainwater. A trail of footprints had followed her inside.

Anna winced. “Oh. Yes. I do see that.”

Running footsteps echoed in the hallway outside, and a red-faced, breathless maid appeared, her cap askew. She took in the sight of her charge’s muddy feet, the Duke’s impassive expression, and Anna, and let out a squeak of fright.

“Oh, Your Grace, I am sorry! She escaped me. I said that you had company and we should wait, but Lady Kitty simply wouldn’t be told!”

Katherine—Kitty—flushed. “Sorry, Papa.”

“No need to apologize,” the Duke said sweetly, getting to his feet. “Miss Belmont here was just leaving.”

Anna lifted an eyebrow. “Was I?”

“Yes. I will call for a carriage to take you home. I shall take care of the business of the license, and I shall send you a note tomorrow or the day after. Be good and wait patiently, won’t you?”

Her cheeks heated again. Under the Duke’s steely stare, she felt the urge to lower her gaze, but she resolutely resisted it.

She met his eyes firmly. “Tell me, Your Grace, do you speak to everybody with such contempt?”

The maid gasped. Kitty’s eyes went wide.

The Duke grinned mirthlessly. “But of course.”

“I hope your future Duchess will receive a little more respect.”

“If she earns that respect, then yes.”

The maid—and Kitty—glanced between the two of them, clearly waiting to hear what would happen next.

Anna’s nerve broke first. Perhaps it was the stress of the day, but her arms and legs had suddenly turned into jelly, and her stomach felt as though it was eating itself from the inside out. She’d had no breakfast and hadn’t touched the stew and cake on the tea tray, not after the turn their conversation had taken. The tea sloshed in her stomach, making her feel a little queasy.

“Good day, then,” she said brusquely.

She considered bobbing a curtsey, but they’d already dispensed with so much of the usual formalities that it seemed pointless. Flashing a quick smile at Kitty and the unfortunate maid, Anna swept past them and into the hallway outside.

The maid went to close the door after her, and the last thing Anna heard was the Duke’s voice.

“Now, Kitty, why don’t you take out the chessboard and we’ll start right away? I have a new opening gambit to show you.”

Anna took a moment to compose herself, breathing deeply in the cool darkness of the hallway.

What have I done? What have I agreed to? What have I done?

The answer came right away.

Just like Mama, I did what I had to do.

Squaring her shoulders, she set off down the hallway.

I hope I can find my way back to the front door.

The first living soul Anna saw in the Duke of Langdon’s sprawling house was none other than the Duke Blackheart himself.

The Duke of Blackwood , she reminded herself. No use offending any more powerful men.

He was sitting on a hard-backed chair in the foyer, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, reading a book. He glanced up as she approached.

“Miss Belmont. I assume you did not find your runaway groom?”

She bristled at his familiar tone. “No, Your Grace, I did not.”

“Pity. I am sorry about it, you know. You’ve been unfortunate. Heaven only knows what you and your family will do now.”

With an elaborate sigh, he returned his gaze to his book, showing every sign of continuing to ignore her.

It was too much. Anna stopped in front of him, placed her hands on her hips, and glared until he glanced up at her again.

“I’m marrying the other one instead,” she said sharply, jerking her head upwards.

Perhaps it was a mistake to say it so soon. Anna was more than half convinced that the Duke of Langdon—who was obviously deranged—would change his mind, or perhaps had been playing a cruel joke on her.

Let’s see him back out of a betrothal when the whole of London knows we’re betrothed, then.

The Duke of Blackwood stared at her for a long moment, his eyes widening. “You… Do you really mean it? You’re marrying Theo?”

“Well, he asked me to marry him, so I assume… What are you doing?”

The man had thrown his book carelessly aside, leaped to his feet, and seized her by the shoulders. For one awful moment, she thought he was going to hug her.

“Miss Belmont, this is excellent news! Poor Kitty needs a mother… Have you met her?”

“I… yes, yes, I have.”

“Well, it’s exactly what Theo needs. You are exactly what he needs. Well, perhaps not you specifically, but a wife in general, and I’m sure you’ll do as well as the next woman.”

That felt more like an insult than a compliment, but Anna had no time to say anything more, as the man looped her arm through his and began walking her to the door.

As promised, a carriage was waiting.

“Theo never says anything he doesn’t mean,” the Duke said confidentially. “Publicly or privately. He’s a man of his word. There are plenty of horrid and entirely true insults attached to his character, but a liar is not one of them. He would never have offered if he didn’t think you’d fit the bill. That’s worked out nicely, then, hasn’t it? Congratulations.”

“I’m not sure congratulations are in order, Your Grace,” she responded acidly.

The Duke glanced down at her, his gray eyes narrowed. “Perhaps not yet,” he said after a pause. It was a cryptic comment, and he offered no clarity. “And you might as well call me Stephen. All this Your Grace business gets irritating very quickly. You’ll be my dearest friend’s wife, and no doubt a thousand times better than your predecessor.”

They had reached the carriage, and the Duke—Stephen—opened the door, making to hand her inside.

She paused. “What do you mean? About my predecessor, that is.”

A shuttered look crossed Stephen’s face. “Nothing, nothing at all.”

“I want to know.”

“No,” he said firmly. “And don’t talk to Theo about his first wife. Not if you want to be a duchess at all.”

Anna opened her mouth to say something scathing, but nothing came out. The next thing she knew, she was being hustled inside the carriage. The door was slammed shut, the vehicle lurched forward, and then she found herself watching Langdon House disappear in the distance and Stephen cheerfully waving to her.

Well, she thought, leaning back against plush, velvet-lined cushions. He doesn’t seem very black-hearted at all. I wonder where he gets the name.

Her head was still aching, her muscles were sore, and it seemed like her exhaustion had reached her very bones. To her horror, before she could start to puzzle out what had happened, Anna fell asleep before the carriage had even reached the end of the street.

“Ahem. We’re here, Miss.”

Anna jolted awake. Surely she’d only closed her eyes for a minute?

A footman was peering into the carriage, looking deeply uncomfortable, one gloved hand poised as if to shake her awake.

Behind him stood Octavia and Beatrice. Their faces were white and pinched, and Anna could have sworn that her mother had been crying.

“Look at the state of her,” Octavia ground out. “You need a bath—your dress is ruined.”

“I’ll get started on the bath,” Beatrice offered, “so that you can stay with Anna.”

Octavia threw her a quick, grateful look. “Thank you, my dear. You’re very kind.”

Still hazy from sleep, Anna stumbled out of the carriage. The door was closed, the footman climbed back onto the carriage, and the vehicle drove away, jolting miserably on the uneven gravel driveway.

Octavia’s hand closed around Anna’s arm.

“Where were you?” she hissed. “I thought… Anna, I thought you’d thrown yourself into the Thames! You ran out of church without a word to any of us, and nobody could find you! Your reputation is in tatters. Oh, I know today has been so awful, but how could you? I thought I had lost you!”

A lump formed in Anna’s throat. “Oh, Mama, I’m sorry. I… I went to Langdon House. I wanted to find Henry, and I thought he might be there.”

Octavia’s expression turned stony at the mention of Henry. “And did you find him?” When she was met with silence, she gave a harsh snort. “Of course not. He jilted you, Anna. I hope he has fled England, because if I ever see him again, I will tear him limb from limb. He has ruined us. I did not think we could sink lower, and yet…” She drew in a ragged breath, shaking her head.

“Mama, I have something to tell you.”

Octavia closed her eyes. “Please tell me you are not with child.”

“What? No! Henry would never—” Anna broke off. “No. I am cold, though. Please, can we go inside?”

“Of course, of course. Come on, there’s a fire in the little drawing room. We’ll go there while Beatrice prepares your bath. She’s been so kind, and her maid, Phoebe, is still out searching for you. I don’t know how we shall repay them.”

Anna let herself be towed upstairs. She was shivering now—she had left the warm blanket in the Duke’s study. Thoughts of him made her shiver, and not necessarily in a bad way. She assured herself it was plain, old dislike.

“Mama, I…” Anna stepped into the drawing room, intending to blurt it all out immediately, but stopped short at the sight of the letter.

It was a proper letter, sealed with a blob of red wax, and three words were written across the front.

Forgive me, Anna.

“The letter arrived a few hours ago,” Octavia spoke, her voice flat. “We wanted to open it, of course. But we waited.”

Anna swallowed. It was Henry’s handwriting. “Where are the twins?”

“In bed. The hour is late, Anna. Emily convinced herself you were at the bottom of the river and cried herself to sleep.”

Guilt bubbled up in Anna’s chest. Taking a deep breath, she snatched up the letter, tearing it open. It was a surprisingly long letter, and she read the first sentence.

By the time you receive this letter, George and I will have left England.

Octavia shuffled closer, trying to read over Anna’s shoulder, so Anna got up and moved to the corner of the room, reading the rest of the letter in silence.

The grandfather clock—the one that kept poor time but cost too much to fix—ticked dolefully.

“Well?” Octavia said, at last.

Anna folded up the letter carefully. It was a risky thing for Henry to write. She would have to burn it.

“You are right,” she said quietly. “He jilted me. He… he intended to go through with the marriage, but at the last hour, he could not do it. He’s gone to Italy.”

No need to mention the art tutor.

Octavia bounced to her feet, pacing up and down. “Oh, the wretch. The selfish, heartless wretch.”

“It’s… there’s more to it than that, Mama.”

“What else could there be?”

Anna pressed her lips together. She said nothing, but Octavia didn’t seem to notice, wrapped up as she was in her anger.

“We are ruined, Anna. I know it seems like I’m blaming you, but truly, my darling, I’m not. I only thought I’d lost you, and… oh, I’m making excuses. But after this, things are going to be much, much harder than before.” Octavia rubbed a hand over her face, shaking her head.

Anna drew in a deep breath. Folding the letter, she tucked it into her sleeve.

Remember to burn it.

“I… I have received a proposal, Mama.”

Octavia froze. She turned, and Anna saw naked terror in her mother’s eyes.

“Anna, no. No . Whatever that cursed Earl said to you, you mustn’t?—”

“An offer of marriage, Mama.”

“He’s already married.”

“No, I…” Anna crossed the room to take her mother’s cool, strong hands in her clammy ones. “I went to Langdon House to find Henry. Of course, he wasn’t there, but his brother was. His older brother, the Duke.”

“Not that awful rake?”

“Yes. The awful rake. He made it quite clear he hadn’t approved of our marriage. We knew that, of course, but he seemed… Well, he seemed a little sorry for me. It’s hard to tell with a man like him.”

“A rake,” Octavia said shortly. “Do you know, his nickname is Lucifer Langdon in some clubs? The man is vile. If he wasn’t so rich and titled, nobody would have him in their house. The scandals he’s created! We don’t move in his circles anymore, and for that, I am grateful. I didn’t know the man before our downfall, and I don’t wish to know him now. Any charity he wants to send our way, he can keep to himself.”

Anna drew in a breath. “He wants to marry me, Mama.”

There was a taut pause.

“You must be mistaken,” Octavia managed, at last.

Anna thought back to the detailed conversations they’d had regarding marriage, sharing beds—or not sharing beds, in their case—and making heirs, and felt her cheeks flush again.

She cleared her throat. “I don’t think I am mistaken, Mama. He was fairly clear. And… and his friend, the Duke of Blackwood, said that he never says anything he doesn’t mean, in public or private.”

“Did I hear correctly, Annie?”

Both of them turned to see Beatrice standing in the doorway, her sleeves rolled up and her forearms glistening with water. Her eyes were wide.

Anna swallowed, nodding. “I… I believe I am betrothed to the Duke of Langdon. He wants a wife, a mother for his daughter, and I suppose I was just convenient. And for all he says about Henry’s messes not being his responsibility, he must feel some sort of guilt.”

Beatrice gave a bark of laughter, before clapping her hands over her mouth. “Oh, Anna, this is perfect! He’s awful, of course, but this will save you all!”

Anna nodded slowly, biting her lip and glancing worriedly at her mother. Octavia was pale, a sort of faraway look in her eyes.

“He promised to take care of our debts, Mama. He promised that you can keep the house, and the twins will be sponsored. I told you I’d save us, didn’t I?”

Octavia let out a faint sigh and crumpled unconscious to the ground.