Page 6 of My Demanding Duke

“She is refusing your father credit based on talk of his financial affairs,” Josie answered gently, “She will release them only when she is paid in full.”

Anna’s shoulders slumped as mortification washed over her. Mrs Delacroix would never be paid in full; if the merchants of London were already aware of Father’s dire financial state, then things must be very bad.

“Never mind,” Anna said, attempting a brave face, “I did tell him that I had no need for new gowns; my current wardrobe is quite adequate.”

Josie made a few noises of agreement, though it was obvious that her heart was not in it. “I’ll call for Sarah to make tea,” Anna decided in an effort to lighten the mood, “Perhaps she has a few sweetmeats hidden away that we might munch on while we await Father’s return.”

A few minutes later, Anna and Josie were safely ensconced in the drawing room, sipping tea and eating rout-cake. Though the cake was delicious, it felt dry in her mouth, as other worries stole over her.

How would the grocer be paid, if Papa had frittered away all his money? Worse, how would Sarah - who had been hired as a maid of all work for the season - and James, their temporary footman, be paid their wages?

As Anna chewed, the cake turned to dust in her mouth, and she had to take a sip of tea to force it down.

“Don’t fret,” Josie said as Anna cleared her throat, “It will all work out in the end.”

Anna nodded in agreement and offered her a bleak smile, though unshed tears stung her eyes. It was impossible for her to imagine just how everything would work out when Papa’s gambling had landed them in yet more hot water.

A knock sounded upon the front door, causing Anna to leap from her seat.

“Perhaps it’s him…” she said, making for the hallway.

For the second time that morning, she found her hopes dashed. In the entrance hall stood Lady Limehouse, resplendent in a rich satin walking gown, with a feathered turban upon her head.

“Forgive me Anna,” she called when she spotted her, “I could not stand on formality and send the footman to you with my card - I simply had to see you at once! Why, what exciting news, you must be thrilled.”

Hope blossomed in Anna’s heart; had father won a fortune so miraculous that it warranted an unannounced visit from the viscountess? She instructed Sarah to fetch another tray, then ushered Lady Limehouse into the drawing room.

“I’m afraid that you have caught me unawares, my lady,” Anna said once they were seated, “I have not yet heard the news which has you so excited.”

The viscountess’ smile faltered when she heard this, and she gave Anna a rather concerned look.

“You do not know?” she confirmed, her eyes worried, “Your father did not tell you?”

“My father is yet to return from his night out,” Anna answered, allowing herself a droll tone for her ladyship was all too aware of Lord Mosley’s faults.

“Heavens,” the viscountess brought a nervous hand to the string of pearls at her neck, “I did not think that I would be the one to tell you this but, as all the ton is already aware, it’s only fair that you too are informed…”

“Informed of what?” Anna prompted, somewhat impatiently.

“You are to be wed to the Duke of Falconbridge.”

Anna had never been prone to fainting - she was made of sterner stuff than most - but at the viscountess’ words, a wave of dizziness overcame her. She slumped backwards, grateful that she was already seated, her vision hazy.

“I’ll fetch some smelling salts,” she heard Josie cry.

A few moments later, an acrid scent burned Anna’s nostrils, so noxious that she swatted it away.

“Awful things,” she complained as she inhaled a deep breath of fresh air. She had never had to use smelling salts before, and had not imagined their scent would be so foul.

She took another few steadying breaths until her head felt clearer. Once she felt right - well, as right as was possible, given the circumstances - she returned her attention to Lady Limehouse.

“Forgive me,” she said, in a calm voice, “But did you say that I am to wed the Duke of Falconbridge? You must be mistaken; I have no association with the man.”

“I’m afraid you do now,” the viscountess corrected her gently, “He and your father played cards last night, and, when your father ran out of funds, the duke demanded your hand in marriage as a stake.”

Anna flinched as pain seared through her heart. How could Papa have been so cruel and careless, as to gamble her away like she was cattle?

“Your father lost, and Falconbridge, by all accounts, went straight to the papers to ensure that the engagement notice went out in this morning’s news sheets.”

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