Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval

by Wendy Soliman

  “Mama!”

  The duchess executed a delicate shrug. “It might cause a little scandal, but what is that compared to your happiness?”

  “What indeed” Anna thought she was the most contrary creature on God’s earth. She really did not want to marry Lord Romsey unless he loved her. But having been talked into the engagement by her wise mother, she was now reluctant to consider breaking it off again.

  “The important thing is that no reputations will be ruined. Engagements are broken for all sorts of reasons. I am sure we will think of something to satisfy the tattle-mongers.”

  “And if Mrs. Anderson does mention seeing his lordship and me in an…er, compromising position, it will not matter since we are engaged.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Mama, you are a miracle worker.”

  “That she is,” Zach said from the doorway, Lord Romsey lurking at his shoulder.

  “Listening at doors, my dear?” Mama asked indolently.

  “I hear you have had quite an afternoon, and lived up to our name for you, Trouble,” Zach said in a mildly reproving tone. “Romsey has seen fit to offer you a way out of it, and I have given him my approval. The rest is up to you, Anna.”

  “Mama and I have been talking about that.” Anna stood up and faced Lord Romsey. “I have had a change of heart, Lord Romsey, and will be happy to become engaged to you.”

  Clarence took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I am delighted to hear you say so.”

  “As to marriage, however.” She sent him a teasing smile, ideas about how to follow in her mother’s footsteps already percolating through her mind. “I have yet to decide about that.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Within ten minutes of entering the Foreign Office the following morning, Clarence had been congratulated upon his forthcoming nuptials by three different people. Others smiled and shook his hand cordially. Aware the duchess would have stuck to her plan and told only Mrs. Anderson of the engagement, Clarence was pleased to have it confirmed that the ton’s gossip machine was working as efficiently as ever.

  Having committed himself to enter a state he had always planned to avoid, a largely sleepless night had left him none the wiser as to the true nature of his feelings. The prospect of matrimony, of having his carefully organised life disrupted by a person who would have every right to make demands upon his time and seek his attention, ought to have petrified him. And, to a degree, it did. Put simply, he was terrified of the unknown. He was not qualified to be a good husband, because he didn’t know how to be. Had no example to emulate. His parent’s idea of domestic felicity had left much to be desired. Dear God, supposing he turned out to be no better at it than his father was? The thought filled Clarence with abject horror. He could never be that cold, callously single-minded, and unfeeling. Could he?

  Certainly not intentionally, but he had seen countless examples of children turning out to be mirror images of their parents. Children picked up so much knowledge of how to behave in their early years, subconsciously following the examples of those closest to them. It was precisely that possibility Clarence had been hoping to avoid by remaining single. Annalise deserved to be happy. Her spirited character could not—should not—be tamed by society’s mores. It was a charming aspect of her personality that set her apart from other young ladies of her age. Unfortunately, it also meant she was far too outspoken to be a diplomat’s wife.

  Annalise’s last comment before he had left Sheridan House the previous day still rang in his ears. As to marriage, however. I have yet to decide about that. What the devil did she mean by that? Surely, she did not intend to break off the engagement? Given his concerns about entering into matrimony, being released from the commitment ought to have given him relief. Instead, it filled him with a firm determination to ensure she did not renege on their agreement.

  Her family was just about as different to the one he had grown up in as it was possible to imagine. She knew that, and it might have caused her to have second thoughts, especially since she had probably been persuaded to see sense by her mother. Did she imagine him to be by nature as taciturn, impatient, and strict as his own father? Even if that proved to be the case, Annalise would have her own ideas about children and the correct way to raise them, much as she had opinions upon most subjects. Clarence didn’t know the first thing about it, but wouldn’t wish the upbringing he had endured upon his worst enemy. Even so, there had to be discipline. Where to draw the line? Perdition, the entire prospect terrified him.

  Clarence sighed and readjusted his position on the uncomfortable leather seat he occupied while waiting for the Foreign Secretary to see him. Thoughts of creating children with Annalise was the reason for his discomfort—a discomfort that had nothing to do with the seating arrangements. He held a newspaper across his torso to hide the evidence that would give away the nature of his thoughts. The prospect of getting his hands on Annalise’s delectable body and proving to her just what a sensual nature she enjoyed actually banished many of his fears. That was one area where he was definitely did not lack experience, and he relished the prospect of teaching her just how joyful intimacy could be.

  He shook out his newspaper and turned the page without being aware of what he actually read, his mind still occupied with Annalise’s unwillingness to marry him. Did she love someone else? Jealousy surged through Clarence in virulent waves, which in itself was unusual enough to make him snort. He had never had reason to be jealous in his entire life, and he ought not to feel that way now. After all, he did not actually love Annalise. Did he?

  Love had no place in his life. His father had beaten any such whimsical notions out of him before he reached puberty. He liked Annalise very much. Her lively company was engaging, showing him a different side of life he seldom had much contact with. But love? Clarence shook his head, chuckling to himself. That was too ridiculous for words. But he would overcome Annalise’s doubts and marry her. How to convince her, that was the question? Perhaps he would court her. Yes, that was what he would do. She had complained his proposal was not romantic, and it was as clear as day she possessed a romantic soul. The problem was, he had never courted a woman before and wasn’t too sure how to go about it. Those he played with were willing and didn’t require pretty words or declarations of undying love. Annalise was different.

  Very well then, a’courting he would go. It would be no hardship, putting aside his duties for an hour or two at a time and making himself agreeable to Annalise.

  “The Foreign Secretary will see you now, Lord Romsey.”

  “Thank you.”

  Clarence put his newspaper aside and walked into Castlereagh’s inner sanctum.

  “Romsey.” Lord Castlereagh stood up, hand outstretched. “What’s all this I hear about you nabbing the Sheridan girl?”

  “You are very well informed, sir. The official announcement has not yet been made.”

  “Didn’t know you had it in you,” Castlereagh replied bluntly, subjecting Clarence to a candid appraisal it was difficult not to take exception to. “Diamond of the first water, is Lady Annalise. Everyone’s after her, but I never figured you for one of ’em. Thought you were a cold fish, like your father.”

  Cold, like my father? “I have my moments,” Clarence replied offhandedly.

  “Obviously, if you’ve snared the catch of the season. Anyway, congratulations. I expect an invitation to the wedding.” He motioned Clarence to a chair. “I suppose this business with von Hessel abducting Lady Annalise brought you together.”

  When Viscount Castlereagh summoned him, Clarence suspected he would require an explanation. He hadn’t wanted to tell him until he knew more, and would be careful what he told him now. Information leaked out of all government offices in torrents, almost as efficiently as the ton’s gossip machine manufactured the latest en dits, but seldom as accurately.

  “Von Hessel has been badgering Lady St. John about her late husband’s papers.”

  Castlereagh’s head shot up
. “Why?”

  “That is what I am attempting to find out.”

  “Hmm. What the devil has Lady Annalise to do with the matter?”

  “An unfortunate case of mistaken identity, although I cannot prove von Hessel took her in the first place. Yet.”

  Castlereagh rubbed his whiskered chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I hear von Hessel has secured the affections of the Outwood girl. That will keep his nest well and truly feathered. Her father is as rich as he is a thorn in the prime minister’s side, and the girl gets the lot when he goes.”

  “So I understand.”

  “Him and the prince regent are tighter than bugs in a rug, but I can’t stand the blighter myself.”

  Nor could Clarence, but he had good reason to feel that way, given what the man had done to Annalise. “I haven’t found anything to date that paints him in a bad light. I have people trying to find out how things stand for him back in Prussia.”

  “Good thinking.” Castlereagh paused. “Does Lady St. John have any of her husband’s personal papers? Papers that ought to be in our archives?”

  “She doesn’t know. She does have some things of his but has never looked at them. They are being sent up to town. Should arrive today or tomorrow.”

  “I don’t like it when our Prussians friends become furtive.” Castlereagh stood up, indicating the meeting had come to an end. “Keep me advised if you find anything interesting, Romsey. Damned rum affair this, and I don’t like it above half.”

  “That I will, sir.”

  Clarence walked briskly back to his apartment, glad that the weather had improved. All signs of snow had disappeared from the streets, and the world had returned to normal. A perfect afternoon to commence his campaign to win Annalise’s affections.

  “What news do you have for me, Pierce?” he asked as he walked into his sitting room, throwing his outdoor garments at Sampson.

  “We have made a little progress, my lord.”

  “Good. Let’s hear it, then.”

  ***

  “What shall you wear this afternoon to receive Lord Romsey?” the duchess asked.

  Surprised, Anna looked up from the book she was reading. “I am not expecting a visit from Lord Romsey, Mama. I assumed he would come to the ball this evening, since we are supposed to be seen together there, but there is no occasion for him to put aside his duties for my sake before then.”

  Frankie laughed. “You are an engaged couple, Anna. Of course he will call this afternoon.”

  “You don’t look terribly happy about being engaged,” Portia remarked. “I thought you would be delighted by the turn events have taken.”

  “I would be, if he had offered for me because I am his heart’s desire.” Anna shrugged. “Still, he is trying to protect my reputation, so I ought to be grateful at least for that.”

  “We will be inundated with callers this afternoon, coming to see if the rumours I started, or rather Mrs. Anderson started, are true,” Mama said, smiling. “Your poor face will not stand up to close scrutiny in daylight. Besides, I feel persuaded Lord Roker will be one of the first to beat a path to our door.”

  Anna groaned.

  “Precisely, my dear. If Lord Romsey is half the gentleman I think he is, he will have anticipated as much and will come to your rescue.”

  “And do what with me?”

  “Anna!” Mama actually looked shocked. “What a thing to say.”

  “Sorry, Mama.” Anna smothered a giggle. “You misunderstand my meaning. What I should have said was that Lord Romsey spends all his time working. He ought not to neglect his duties for my sake. And even if he does, he won’t have the first idea how to entertain me.”

  Anna noticed her mother and Frankie exchange an amused glance. “I think you underestimate your future husband,” Frankie said.

  “He is not my future husband,” Anna replied stubbornly. “I have only agreed to become engaged to him, nothing more.”

  Portia and Frankie shot Anna identical shocked looks. Anna realised she ought not to have said anything but was saved from explaining by the sound of the luncheon gong. Vince and Nate were out somewhere, so only Zach joined them at the table. He seemed to be doing that a great deal more than usual since Frankie had come to stay with them, Anna noticed. And yet, he made no particular attempt to single her out. He looked at her frequently, though, and always listened politely to whatever she had to say.

  Anna had absolutely no idea what her suave brother’s intentions were regarding Frankie; nor could she ask. But nothing would give her greater pleasure than to see a lady who was fast becoming one of her closest friends assuming the mantle of Duchess of Winchester. And yet, she had been married for eight years before St. John died, and had no children to show for it. Anna knew there could be all sorts of reasons for that. Her husband had been twenty years older than Frankie. Perhaps he had been incapable of…well, of whatever he was required to be capable of doing. Anna was rather hazy on that point. There again, poor Frankie could be barren. The same thought must have occurred to Zach. Could that be what was holding him back?

  “When can we expect Amos to arrive, Zach?” Anna asked.

  “I hope to see him by tomorrow. Perhaps even later today,” Zach replied. “The sooner we can resolve this business, the sooner Lady St. John can return to her normal life.”

  “Tired of my society already, your grace?”

  “Not in the least, but I do not like to think of you being in danger, or to see your enjoyment curtailed.”

  “Oh, I feel perfectly safe here, and I am having a delightful time. I have enjoyed my respite from the social whirl. It quickly becomes tiresome, I find. Besides, we have agreed I shall attend Lady Ancel’s ball this evening in company with the rest of you.”

  “But you must promise me not to walk outside unescorted or to have anything to do with von Hessel.”

  Frankie elevated one elegant brow. “Must I?”

  “Excuse me, I did not mean to give you orders, but you must see the logic behind my—er, request.”

  Frankie smiled, perfectly compliant, now she had made her point. “Since you ask me so persuasively, your grace, I shall be happy to do as you ask.”

  “Thank you.”

  Anna looked up and observed her mother, watching the verbal sparring between Zach and Frankie, a satisfied half-smile playing about her lips. But for Anna’s abduction, this business with von Hessel had played right into her gently coercive hands in that it had thrown Frankie and Zach into continuous company with one another.

  “Run along and change,” Mama told Anna as soon as luncheon came to an end. “Lord Romsey will be here any moment.”

  Anna wasn’t convinced but did as she was told anyway. If his lordship did actually deign to favour her with his company, then she might as well look her best.

  “The new sprigged muslin, Fanny,” she said as she walked into her chamber. “The green with the cream spots.”

  Dressed in a gown that, in vogue with the current fashion, fit tightly to her form, Anna felt ready to do battle with her poor, misguided lord. There was nothing like a new gown to give a lady confidence in her abilities, Anna thought. She sat still while Fanny tidied her hair, fashioning it across her face to hide her rapidly fading bruises. The cut on her lip was now completely healed. Not that she was likely to be doing any kissing, but it was comforting to know that no impediments existed, in the unlikely case of an opportunity arising. She and Lord Romsey were pretending to be on the point of matrimony, so a stolen kiss or two would be permissible.

  She had not been down for more than five minutes, seated with her mama, Portia, and Frankie, before Lord Romsey was announced. Her mother sent her a speaking look that implied Anna she should have known better than to doubt her.

  “Good afternoon, Lord Romsey,” Mama said.

  “Your grace.”

  Romsey bowed over Mama’s hand, and then turned his attention to Anna. She bobbed a curtsey as he took her hand, and she was pleased to see his
eyes widen at the sight of her in her new gown. She lowered her eyes and noticed, belatedly, he was dressed for riding in tight-fitting breeches and shiny Hessians. That clothing did surprise her. The fact that he looked magnificent in it—all hard muscle, broad shoulders, and unimpeachable masculinity—did not. She moistened her lips, thinking to herself it was a great pity he did not love her. She would so very much like to marry him.

  “Are you on your way somewhere else?” Anna asked when Lord Romsey had greeted Frankie and Portia.

  “I was hoping to persuade you to ride with me in the park.”

  “Me? You? Together?” Anna probably looked as surprised as she felt. She hoped she did not look as stupid as she sounded since astonishment had robbed her of the ability to string two coherent words together. “But what of your duties? Are you sure you can spare the time?”

  “Perfectly sure,” he said, his lips twitching with evident amusement.

  Zach joined them at that moment and shook hands with Lord Romsey.

  “What news?” he asked.

  “With regard to the warehouse, it is as we suspected. The place is unused at present, the owner looking for new tenants. He is a person of good character, and I have no reason to suspect him of duplicity. It is our belief the two villains who abducted Annalise were recommended to von Hessel by a third person. Presumably, a member of his entourage was charged with finding them. They must work at the wharf, but finding them without knowing what they look like would be next to impossible.”

  “I would like to get my hands on them,” Zach replied, “but they are not important.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Lord Romsey replied. “I saw the inside of the warehouse myself less than an hour ago. It is just as you described.” He turned to Anna with a sympathetic smile. “We found the room you were held in. The remnants of the sack you tore apart was still on the floor, along with a few scraps of pink silk from where you ripped your gown. It is definitely the place, but it leant us few clues, unfortunately.” He shook his head. “I looked out of the window to the tree you climbed down. It would be a perilous descent, even in daylight in reasonably good weather. I am astonished you only dislocated your shoulder.”