“Daniel,” she called softly.
“Back here,” he said as he stepped out of a shadow.
Her heart stopped. He was there. So handsome. Dressed in a frock coat over a white shirt. Not workman’s clothes she realized as she raced toward him. All she could think about was that he had returned.
“Daniel,” she sighed as she threw herself into his arms.
He caught her and twirled her about as his lips found hers and lifted her soul to heaven.
“Ann,” he said softly, “there is something I need to tell you.”
She opened her eyes to stare into his as she held her breath.
“But first, dance with me,” he asked with a sweet smile.
She smiled up at him. There was nothing in this world she wished for more.
The music from the house was just enough. The man before her was more than she could ever hope for, and the night was perfect.
He held out a hand, slipped his other hand around her waist and began to waltz her around the garden. It was a dream come true, she thought as her heart melted. He was so handsome, so tall and strong. He made her feel small and feminine, a feeling she would cling to for the rest of her life. As if she was special, protected, and all his.
“You look beautiful,” he said with an appreciative smile. Once again, her heart softened. No more cherished words had ever been spoken. Oh, how she wished she could rest her head on his shoulder.
Instead, all she could do was lock her gaze with his and become lost in the night. She loved him, she realized. She truly did. No matter how foolish it might be. The man had told her that the future was not his. He was without employment. And she knew almost nothing about him. But she loved him. Deep down, soul-crushing love.
The music came to a stop and she sighed heavily. Had any girl in the history of time had a more romantic moment?
“I need to tell you something,” he said with a heavy sigh.
“Not yet,” she replied. Nothing could be allowed to break this moment. It would not last forever, she realized. But it should last longer. It had to.
The two of them looked down at each other then he once again took her lips with his. Ann sank into him. Taking, giving. Their lips exploring demanding more.
His hand on her waist slowly slid up the side of her ribs to cup her breast. She moaned softly and clung to him, demanding more. Her world was dissolving around her. There was only Daniel and what he was doing to her body. What he was doing to her very soul.
“Daniel,” she whispered as his lips trailed down her neck, his hand kneading her breast softly, setting her afire. “Yes,” she moaned as she brought his head back up so that she could kiss him again.
More, she wanted so much more.
A loud gasp interrupted her, pulling her out of her stupor.
“Norwich. Really!” a feminine voice said in obvious surprise.
Ann felt Daniel grow stiff. Both of them turned to find Lady Clarice standing there with the Vicar. Their eyes opened in shock. Her heart fell. The Vicar. Of all people to discover them. The one man who would never ignore her indiscretion.
And who was this Norwich?
“Miss Stafford, I am surprised at you,” the Vicar said with a shake of his head. Ann’s insides tightened with shame.
“Clarice,” Daniel said with a heavy sigh. “I see you brought company.”
A wave of confusion washed over Ann. What was going on? How did Daniel know this woman?
“Really, Your Grace,” the young woman said with obvious distaste. “I am surprised.”
Your Grace? Ann looked at Daniel then back at the woman as her mind whirled.
“Don’t act surprised,” Lady Clarice said to her. “You can’t tell me that you didn’t know you were kissing His Grace, The Duke of Norwich. Even you couldn’t be that stupid.”
Ann felt her knees grow week as she spun towards Daniel. And it was there. The truth. His eyes told her all she needed to know. He was a duke. He had used her. Deceived her. All to grab a quick moment in the garden.
Wave after wave of shame washed over her as she began to fit the pieces together.
Obviously. How could she have been so dense? Why hadn’t she seen it? It was so obvious. And he had led her along as if she didn’t matter. No employment, educated, even the soft hands. Everything screamed aristocrat. But a duke?
As she looked up at him, more people began to arrive. Drawn to the drama like bees to honey. Her heart continued to fall as her body was racked with shame. Lord Brookenham, his mother, and then even her Aunt Ester and her sisters. It was as if half the village had stepped out onto the lawn to see her fall from grace.
Each one of them either looking confused. Or ashamed of her. As if she had broken the ultimate commandment.
“Ann,” Daniel said as he reached to take her arm.
“No,” she snapped as she pulled away. “No,” she repeated as she tried to understand. Her world had been turned upside down. Everything was ruined. Her dreams, what she thought about herself and the way the world worked. Everything was suddenly different.
“Please,” he began. “I am sorry. I wanted to tell you.”
“Really,” she said as she glared at him. “When? The first time we met, or during the walk in the woods. How about the first time you kissed me.”
“This has happened before?” the Vicar said with obvious disgust. “Really, Miss Stafford. I expected you to set an example for your sisters.”
Ann’s stomach twisted as a cold shiver ran down her back. Her sisters. What would they think when the community shunned them because of her? How hypocritical she had been. Admonishing them to be on their best behavior, then shaming the family on a stupid whim. All with a man she obviously didn’t know.
Oh, my God, she thought. What about Lord Brookenham? What would he think? She had brought disgrace on the family. Would he turn her out?
“Ann. Please. You don’t understand,” Daniel began.
No, she realized. Not Daniel, His Grace, Lord Norwich. A duke. Not Daniel. He had never been Daniel.
“No,” she said as she turned and raced from the garden. No, this couldn’t be happening.
Lifting the hem of her dress she twisted her way through the orchard and raced for home. Safety. She needed to be somewhere that made sense.
The tears didn’t start until she had reached the door. By the time she was upstairs and had thrown herself onto her bed. A thousand more tears had fallen.
.o0o.
An anger began to build inside of him as he watched her run away. An anger at himself for hurting her. An anger at the world for failing so miserably. But most of all, an anger at the people around him for merely existing.
“Your Grace,” Lady Clarice began.
Lord Norwich turned on her with an angry scowl.
She took a step back, obviously surprised. “What?” she asked. “She’s a simple farm girl.
Norwich stared at her for a long second as a slow realization washed over him. This woman had ruined Ann’s life on purpose. She had gathered the Vicar and followed Ann. Why?
Because she was conniving scum. Because Ann threatened to interfere with her intentions. The woman had been chasing him around London for the last two years. In her mind, Ann was a hindrance to be cast aside.
The anger inside of him threatened to explode. This was the world he came from. A manipulative, expedient world that schemed and lied to get what they wanted. The idea sickened him to his very core.
Forcing his anger back down, he turned away before he said something he would regret. Instead, he stepped to Aunt Ester and her two nieces.
“I do apologize,” he said to the three of them. “It was unbecoming to take advantage of your hospitality without being forthcoming.”
Aunt Ester nodded slightly, Lydia frowned at him as if trying to understand an unsolvable problem. It was Isobel that surprised him. Her brow furrowed in contempt. She looked at him like she wanted to skin him alive, preferably over a hot fire.
A small gasp could be heard from the crowd. People did not address a Duke of the Realm in such a manner.
Lord Norwich sighed internally. How had things gone so wrong so quickly?
Chapter Eleven
Ann heard her sisters and aunt enter the house and sighed into her pillow. She desperately wanted to avoid the entire issue. Yet a part of her wondered about what had happened after she left.
No, she realized, she didn’t merely leave, she fled. Ran like a scalded cat.
“Ann,” Lydia called out from downstairs.
She sighed, there was no avoiding this. It must be addressed. Hiding in her room wouldn’t make it all go away. Besides. This impacted her family as well. She was now a ruined woman and they would bear the consequences.
Pushing up from the bed, she wiped at her eyes and straightened her gown. Such a beautiful gown. And the look in his eyes when he had seen her in it. A perfect moment. All ruined. All gone.
Sighing again, she made her way downstairs to take her medicine. It was obvious that she had made a fool of herself and shamed the family. She deserved to be taken to task for it.
Each step down the stairs, her heart lurched. What would their future be?
As she stepped off the last step she turned into the front room and gasped. Daniel, No, His Grace, Lord Norwich, she reminded herself, stood there between her two sisters. Looking as if he were a pillar holding up the earth itself. Tall, strong, in charge. The epitome of English nobility. Yet his brow was creased with worry, and if she was correct, a touch of shame.
“Ann …” he began.
She turned on her two sisters and yelled, “How could you. How dare you bring him here. Now.”
Each of them cringed. Even Aunt Ester took a step back.
“He insisted,” Isobel said.
“He is a lord, after all,” Lydia added as if that was all the explanation needed.
“Ann, please,” he said as he stepped forward. “We need to talk.”
She pulled back, hunching her shoulders as if he was about to strike her. He frowned, but was kind enough to stop moving towards her.
“Come, girls,” Aunt Ester said. “I need help with my dress.”
Both of her young sisters looked at their aunt, then at Ann and finally at Lord Norwich. She could tell they were torn between displaying good manners and an overwhelming desire to hear every last word. What probably settled the matter was the realization that they could hear everything just as well upstairs as they could standing right there in the room.
As her family started to depart, a sick fear filled her as she realized she was to be left alone with this man.
What did he think of her? Now, like this, her eyes red, her cheeks blotchy, her dress rumpled. Then a flash of anger filled her. Why should she care what he thought? The man was a liar. A deceiver.
“Ann,” he began.
“Miss Stafford, Your Grace,” she replied formally as she raised her chin. She needed to establish the boundaries. She needed to keep the fact that they came from separate worlds in the forefront of her mind at all times.
He cringed slightly at her choice of words. Obviously upset, but he nodded slightly “Miss Stafford, then.”
The two of them stood there looking at each other. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind as she tried to understand.
“Why?” she asked simply.
His shoulders slumped slightly before he once again returned to his full height and straight back. His duke mode, she realized. The performance he put on for the world. Or was this the real man? Had everything else been subterfuge? The kind smile, the easy laugh. The way he talked to her. As if she was important. Had all of that been but a ruse to fool her.
Her heart broke, she had been such an idiot.
“Miss Stafford,” he began again, “I can assure you it was not personal.”
She barked out a quick laugh before she could stop herself. “What? It is common practice in your world to deceive young woman? I had heard of such things, but never gave it credence.”
“No. No,” he said with a shake of his head. “No. I never intended to deceive you.”
“Really?” she asked with a tilt of her head. “What? You misspoke when you identified yourself as Daniel Marlow. … I could see that. The name is so similar to His Grace, Duke of Norwich.”
He grinned slightly and took a step towards her until he saw the anger in her eyes and stopped. “Ann … Miss Stafford. I assure you. I did not set out to deceive you. Or anyone else for that matter. My good friend, Lord Brookenham needed assistance. He needed someone to investigate his new holdings. To discover why they were not producing as much as they should have. I have some experience with running estates…”
“I am not surprised. Being a duke, that of sort of goes with the name,” she interjected as her mind tried to process what he was saying.
He shrugged. “So, I decided to enter the area incognito… That means …”
“I know what it means,” she snapped. “I might be a stupid country girl, but I am not completely ignorant. Although, now that I think of it, how could you know that? Obviously, I am unable to see what is directly in front of my face.”
He cringed again. “Anyway,” he continued, “I found myself catching a young woman falling from an apple tree …”
Her insides turned over as she remembered his gallantry and strong arms.
“So, when it came time to introduce myself. Of course, I used the name I was given at birth. Actually. If you think about it, I told you my true name. The title, that isn’t me. Not really.”
Ann rolled her eyes and harrumphed, what silliness.
“Don’t you think I might have wanted to know about your status, your title. Oh, how foolish we must have looked to you. How dare you do that to us?”
He sighed heavily. “No. Never. You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t,” she said before he could continue.
Lord Norwich took a long breath, obviously having difficulty explaining himself. At last, he sighed and said, “I have been a duke from the day after I was born. It is all I have ever known. With very few exceptions, People have always treated me as if I was something special.”
“You are,” she interrupted with a touch of anger. “You are a duke. Of course, they treat you differently. Your status, your wealth. How could they not?”
“Exactly,” he said. “I don’t blame them. Or at least not most of them. And I know that I sound ridiculous to even mention it. It seems such a trivial problem. But … for a short time I was judged by who I was, not my title. You have no idea how intoxicating that was.”
“And that excused deceiving us. Deceiving me?”
“No, Ann, of course not. But it is an explanation. You have to understand. Our walks, our talks, meeting your family. Every moment was new, novel, something that I will treasure always.”
Again, she rolled her eyes. That was what they had been to him. What she had been to him. Something new and novel. The simple country girl who could so easily be deceived.
Her heart broke as a coldness washed through her. She knew that she would never look at the world the same way again. Dipping into a deep curtsy, she said, “Of course, My Lord, I understand perfectly. And there is no need to apologize.”
The mocking tone in her voice said more than all the screaming and yelling could ever accomplish. By the look in his eyes, she knew she had driven home her point.
“Now, if you will excuse me,” Ann continued, “it is late. And you must return to your world and I must return to mine. The clock is well past midnight and the fairy tale is over.”
Sadness filled her as she realized just how true that was. It was over.
Yet, he didn’t leave, instead, he tilted his head to the side and studied her for a long moment.
“No, Ann, this is far from over. We still need to discuss the wedding.”
Her heart stopped.
Slammed to a complete halt as every ounce of air left her lungs. The world spun around her as she tried to gather her wits. What had he said? Whose wedding?
Sighing heavily, he began to pace. “I have asked the Vicar to obtain a special license from the Bishop. I will send word to Prinny in the morning. -The Prince Regent- Technically, I need his permission, but I assure you, it is a mere formality. The Vicar has agreed to marry us on Tuesday. That should be plenty of time for you to get ready. Don’t you think?”
Her mouth dropped open as all she could do was stare at him as if he were speaking in tongues. The man was insane.
“Stop pacing,” she told him. “What are you talking about?”
He looked at her strangely for a second. “Our wedding. I thought that was obvious.”
She ground her teeth for a moment in pure frustration. “I can’t marry you.”
Again, he tilted his head and looked at her as if she were a kitten learning how to play with a ball of yarn. Cute, but not totally aware.
“Really, Miss Stafford, you have no choice in the matter.”
“What?” she exclaimed. “You may be a duke. And send letters to princes and bishops. But, this is still England, and woman are not forced to marry.”
He simply raised an eyebrow at her obvious naivety. “I didn’t say force. Simply that you had no wiser choice.”
Again, she frowned at him. Her insides continued to turn over. The thought of marriage seemed too foreign, so impossible. And to this man? The idea sent a cold fear through her, mixed with a tingle of something unknown.
“Why?” she asked as she desperately tried to think, but her mind refused to work properly.
He sighed, “Need I remind you what happened only a short while ago in Lord Brookenham’s garden?”
Her cheeks grew warm and she knew she was blushing furiously.
“You, Miss Stafford, are ruined, and it is my fault.”
The bluntness of his words filled her with a sense of shame. Looking away, she too began to pace.
“Woman have survived worse. It will all blow over eventually.”
Now he rolled his eyes, “I doubt it, besides. It is not just you we have to worry about.”
Duke In Disguise (The Stafford Sisters Book 1) Page 8