“It wasn’t, Harry,” she said firmly.
Katherine’s brow wrinkled. “What do you mean? I saw him, Anne. I saw his hands on your person. I—”
“I propositioned the earl, Kat. I made him a scandalous proposal and asked him to help me win the Duke of Crawford’s heart,” she uttered that last part on a shamed whisper.
The air left Katherine on a slow, elongated breath. “My God.”
Her lips twisted wryly. No, not even the Lord himself could help with this.
She pressed ahead, determined for Katherine to know the truth. “I threatened to seek out Lord Rutland’s help if he didn’t agree, and so he did.” Because he was good and honorable, far more honorable than Society gave him credit for.
Her sister rocked back on her heels, silent.
And now, for his efforts, he’d be forced into marriage, and she had little doubt he’d do right by her. Just as her father’s heart had belonged to another, so too would Harry’s. Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back. Oh, God. For all her fears of becoming Mother and all her efforts to avoid that same, sorry, broken fate, with her actions she’d gone and carved out a future that would turn her into just that person she’d striven her whole adult life not to be. She could not. Would not…
Katherine broke the silence. “Why would you…?” She steepled her fingers and pressed the tips to her mouth. “This is about that blasted pendant, isn’t it? The—”
“The heart of a duke, yes.” Her lips twisted. Only now, she realized how very grasping, how very shameful her efforts had been. She’d once imagined a match with a distinguished, powerful duke posed as the ultimate triumph over her parents’ miserable existence. In the end, she’d found she wanted nothing more than that honorable, respectable match—except she wanted it with Harry, and no other.
Katherine said nothing for a long while. She sank back in her seat. “Oh, dear.”
Anne thought ‘oh, hell’, would better suit the current situation, but she supposed ‘oh, dear’ would also suffice.
“And Lord Rutland discovered your intentions,” she said to herself.
Anne toyed with her skirt. “Discovered my intentions.” And would ruin her for it.
Katherine’s eyes slid closed. “Oh, dear.”
Their mother chose that opportune moment to make her entrance, sweeping past Jasper, and advancing deep into the room. She glared Anne into silence. “I’ve tolerated your headstrong spiritedness through the years. I’ve forgiven your lack of marriage for three Seasons. This, however, I cannot forgive.”
Katherine sprang to her feet. Ever the protector, she placed herself between Anne and their mother’s vitriolic attack. “Lord Stanhope aside, Mother, we shall find Anne a perfectly suitable husband.” She turned an optimistic smile on her sister. “Why, you’ll have the heart of a handsome, young, affable duke,” she said using Anne’s innocently hopeful words from more than a year ago when they’d traipsed over the ice at the Frost Fair.
“No gentleman will have her.” Mother held Anne’s stare, and she knew before the words left Mother’s lips, what would be required of her. “You know what you must do, Anne. I’d expected it would be Katherine, but it must be you.”
The resignation in Mother’s tone raised the stirring of panic within her belly. Revulsion snaked through her being at the prospect of marriage to Mr. Ekstrom. Anne sank into the edge of a nearby seat. “I know.” Did that garbled whisper belong to her?
Katherine’s head whipped back and forth between them. “I don’t understand.”
Anne considered the stocky, Bertie Ekstrom with his sausage-sized fingers and leering gaze. She managed words past the lump in her throat. The heart-wrenchingly beautiful lessons Harry had given her on seduction, their stolen interludes, all of it would be the complete ruin of her. Always considered the passionate, flighty sister, she prided herself on maintaining her composure in the face of the horrible life in front of her. “I have to wed someone, Katherine. I cannot simply trust Lord Rutland will not someday divulge the scandalous information he discovered.”
“That is the first sensible decision you’ve made since you began carrying on with that outrageous rogue.” Icy scorn coated Mother’s words.
Her sister ignored their irate mother and looked momentarily to her husband who remained at the door as a manner of sentry. A look passed between husband and wife. Again, an almost painful envy coursed through Anne at the shared connection. He gave an imperceptible nod.
Katherine’s brown eyes formed wide circles in her face. “No,” she breathed. “Not—”
“Don’t,” Anne implored, not needing, and certainly not wanting the words uttered into existence.
“You’d have her wed vile Mr. Ekstrom,” Katherine hissed.
“I’d see her married and protected while you’d see her ruined,” her mother spat.
The two women stood, locked in a silent battle of the wills. Mother had once sought to wed Katherine to their cousin. With her quick wit and bold courage, she’d instead put an offer of marriage to the Duke of Bainbridge, thus saving herself from Mother’s maneuverings. However, Anne was long past saving. She knew that. Her guardian would know that. And if Rutland had his way, everyone in polite Society would soon know it, too.
Katherine broke the impasse. “I’ll see you a spinster before I ever see you wed that vile toad,” she said to Anne, never taking her eyes from their mother.
The countess narrowed her eyes. “I shall speak to your uncle first thing in the morning, Anne. After his shameful lack of regard for my marital aspirations for Katherine,” Katherine’s eyebrows dipped. “I’m sure he’ll at least have sense enough to see to the necessity of a union between yourself and Mr. Ekstrom.”
The bottom fell out from Anne’s stomach as her mother’s words somehow made this hell all the more real. She managed a jerky nod.
“Splendid.” Mother gave a pleased nod. “The matter is settled. I’ll meet with my brother tomorrow morning and he’ll see to the arrangements with Bertrand.” She swept out of the room as though she’d spoken on mundane matters such as the London weather and her latest modiste, and not Anne’s grim future.
Katherine glowered at Anne. “I forbid you from wedding him.”
What her sister failed to realize was that it didn’t really matter who Anne wed. Mr. Ekstrom may as well have been the Duke of Crawford who may as well have been Prinny himself. None of them were Harry. The irony wasn’t lost on her. Always regarded as selfish and self-serving, Anne would relinquish Harry, and in doing so, lose the only man she would ever love.
“We shall simply find you a husband.” She motioned to Jasper who still remained by his post at the doorway. “After all, I found one.”
A broken laugh bubbled past Anne’s lips. She took Katherine’s hands and gave them a firm squeeze. “Oh, Kat, don’t you see you can’t fix this. You were right through the years. I was headstrong and unwise and now I’ll pay the price.” The ultimate price, marriage to Bertrand Ekstrom. The threat that had dangled first over Katherine and then Anne, would be realized.
Her sister shook her head back and forth. “I cannot believe that,” she said, with a fool’s optimism. Anne marveled at the great shift that had occurred. Long considered the fanciful, foolishly whimsical twin, Anne had somehow altered roles with her practical, logic-driven sister. Katherine appealed to Jasper. “Surely there is something we can do?”
He looked to his wife and said tersely, “Stanhope.”
Anne was remarkably low on options. Ruin. Harry. Vile Bertie Ekstrom. Options that would salvage her reputation, that was. Her throat worked. She could not wed Harry. Would not. Not under duress. Not because he’d been forced into a union with a wife who would merely suffice. In time, he would grow to hate her and she’d become an empty, bitter shell of a woman just as her mother had been…and still was, even long after Father had died. All the while she’d sit from the sidelines as Harry longed for another, loved another he could not have. No, that she
could not do. She took a steadying breath. “The decision is mine, Katherine.”
An almost pitying look wreathed the harsh, angular planes of her brother-in-law’s face. She cocked her head at the crack in Jasper’s hard veneer. But for the clear love he carried for his wife and sweet son, Maxwell, she’d never bore witness to a single show of emotion from the austere duke. Until now. “Rutland,” she whispered aloud.
Katherine and Jasper stared at her questioningly.
Anne pressed her fingers against her temples and rubbed her fingers in slow, circular motions. “I need to speak with Lord Rutland.” Any man who’d stood to the side and watched on as though his heart too was publicly breaking was not wholly a monster.
“No,” Katherine said, her lips a flat line of disapproval. “Enough of your schemes, Anne.”
Only, she’d witnessed Rutland’s despair. “I must speak to him.” She scrambled forward in her seat. “Rutland will—”
“Rutland is a despicable bounder,” her sister said bluntly. “Tell her,” she said to her husband. Her eyes narrowed at his silence. “Tell her, Jasper.”
“I believe, perhaps, it might be beneficial to speak to Rutland,” he said quietly. He still clearly believed Harry to be a worthless cur, and likely saw the imagined perils in Anne wedding one such as the Earl of Stanhope.
“Thank you, Jasper,” Anne said softly.
Katherine leaned over and took Anne’s hand in her own. “I’m disappointed Harry would meet you as he did and compromise your reputation, but Anne, you’ve been ruined. Ruined before one, may as well be ruined before all. Surely you must see the folly in choosing one such as Mr. Ekstrom over Harry?”
Anne pressed her eyes tight, remembering his laugh, his teasing, the moment he’d placed the delicate wire-framed spectacles upon her nose in Hyde Park. Until the day she drew her last breath, Harry would hold every last sliver of her now broken heart. She loved him enough to set him free.
“Anne?” her sister prodded.
“He…” She didn’t know how much Katherine knew of Harry’s past and would not betray the pieces she had of him. “He loved another, and I’ll not come between that.” She pulled her hand free and shoved to her feet. She would not become their mother. Of course, she could not say as much. Katherine knew nothing of Father’s infidelity, so in this, Anne would protect her.
“This is madness.” Katherine stood. “Madness.”
“Do you believe Harry loves me?”
Her sister fell stonily silent, her lack of response more resounding than any answer.
A sad smile tugged at her lips. “No, I did not believe so, either.”
Katherine held her palms up. “I don't know if Harry is capable of loving anyone.” Katherine was wrong. As much as her sister knew of Harry, she clearly didn’t know of the love he’d carried for Margaret. She crossed over to Anne. “I trust he’ll marry you,” she said quietly.
How could her sister with such a beautiful love with Jasper believe Anne could ever, would ever enter into a union that had been orchestrated by the vile Lord Rutland? “I'll not have him that way.” She’d have him in a loving marriage or not at all.
“You’d rather wed that toad, Bertrand Ekstrom?” Katherine glanced to her husband. “Say something, Jasper.”
His response was lost to Anne as she wandered to the window. She peeled back the curtain. In spite of the warmth of the night, a chill stole through her.
Katherine’s face reflected in the crystal panes. Her brown eyebrows stitched in a single, suspicious line. “What are you thinking, Anne?”
She touched her forehead to the cool windowpane as her mother’s previous threats of and for a marriage to Mr. Ekstrom and the inevitability of her ruin blended into one perfectly horrific resolution. A lone carriage rumbled down the darkened street. “I can’t marry him.”
“Bah, of course you can!”
Anne shook her head. “No.” She turned back around. “I can’t.” Harry would do the honorable thing and wed her. But it would never be for the right reasons. Ultimately, in protecting her and denying himself the one woman he truly loved, he would bind himself to Anne—forever. That was the kind of gentleman he was.
Katherine took a step toward her. Fire lit her eyes. “As infuriated as I am with Harry for helping you in your foolish plan to win the heart of a duke, I know him well-enough to say he would never,” she took another step closer. “ever allow you to wed Bertrand Ekstrom. Never,” she added for final measure.
Anne captured her lower lip between her teeth. No, her sister was as usual—correct. She began to pace. In the morning, Harry intended to meet her guardian.
“What are you thinking?” her sister asked.
Anne ignored her and continued her frantic pace. Perceived by all of polite society as an unrepentant rogue, in actuality Harry possessed more honor, integrity, and respectability than all of the peerage combined. Even as he didn’t love her, he would marry her. No, he wouldn’t stand idly by while she wed Mr. Ekstrom. Perhaps ten days ago Harry would have flatly rejected marriage to Anne. Then, he’d viewed her as a young lady who…
She drew to a slow halt and blinked.
“What is it?” her sister prodded, her tone sharper.
Anne shook her head slowly. If he still saw her as nothing more than a title-grasping miss, then he’d not do this thing, and cost himself his every happiness.
A knowing glint flashed in Katherine’s eyes, a sudden understanding, that only came from a sister who’d been dragged along years of foolish schemes. 'What are you planning?'
“He won’t be happy with me,” she said in an entreating tone, willing her sister to see. She sucked in a shuddery breath. “He loved her.”
Her brother-in-law averted his gaze, silent through the sisters’ exchange.
Katherine cocked her head at the sudden shift in conversation. “Loved who?”
“Lady Margaret Monteith.”
Understanding lit her sister’s brown eyes. After all, the ton was well-aware of the scandalous, young widow’s reentrance into Society. But then she gave her head a quick shake. “That doesn’t matter.”
A pained laugh escaped her. Her sister was all things loyal. “I don’t want him to marry me because he’s been forced to. He will resent me for denying him his true love and I will resent him for loving another.” And in that, she would become her mother. She had to set him free and the only way to do so was making him hate her. Again. Her heart twisted with a bitter pain. Considering the loathing he’d carried for her this past year that should prove rather an easy task to accomplish.
Katherine jabbed a finger in her direction. “Anne Arlette Adamson, by God I’ve seen that look in your eyes more times than has ever been good for either of us.”
Anne looked down. All her life, she’d been rash. She’d moved through life without ever truly considering the consequences of her actions. Rutland’s discovery and subsequent threat had shown her belatedly the dangers of such recklessness. She picked her head up. “There will be no more schemes,” she said softly, assuring her twin. After this.
Anne looked to Jasper. He stood, laconic as usual, hands clasped behind his back.
“Jasper, there is a favor I would put to you.”
He inclined his head. “You need but ask.”
“I need you to arrange one additional meeting tomorrow.”
He quirked a black eyebrow.
She drew in a steadying breath. “Following my meeting with the Marquess of Rutland,” Her throat closed up. “I’d like to see Lord Stanhope. Alone.”
Chapter 22
Seated in the corner of the 8th Duke of Bainbridge’s spacious office, Anne glanced for surely the hundredth time at the long-case clock across the room.
“He’s not due ‘round for another fifteen minutes,” Jasper called from his place at the mahogany desk, head bent over his ledgers.
She played with the precious pair of wire-rimmed spectacles. “I know that,” she felt inclined to point out
.
He dipped his pen into the inkwell “Do you?” he asked, taciturn as usual. He continued to work away.
She very well knew the time Lord Rutland was scheduled to meet with Jasper. Just as she knew the time of his then meeting with Harry. She’d lain awake until the morning sun peeked across the horizon going over exactly what she’d say, drawing on every last negative perception everyone and anyone had ever possessed of Lady Anne Arlette Adamson.
As she’d stared down at her untouched breakfast plate she’d convinced herself she could carry through with her plans, because she loved Harry, even when he could not love her, loved enough for the both of them. Loved him enough to do that which was truly selfless.
She tapped her feet on the hardwood floor. Jasper picked his head up and gave her a pointed look. She continued to beat the hasty, staccato rhythm upon the floor. “Do you believe I can reason with him?” She toyed with the spectacles in her hands, running her finger over the delicate frame.
More Than a Duke (Heart of a Duke Book 2) Page 24