Page 115 of Corrupting his Duchess
“You’re different,” Heather said, not looking up.
Anna blinked. “What do you mean?”
“You’re… floaty. Like you’re thinking about something good, and trying very hard not to smile about it.”
Their mother raised a brow without lifting her head. “She’s probably just relieved the house party is over. Those things can be exhausting.”
“Anna liked it,” Heather said. “She won’t say it, but she did. Something happened.”
Anna folded her hands tightly over the needle and thread. “You’re imagining things.”
Heather leaned over, stage-whispering, “Did you meet someone?”
“Heather– ”
“I’m only asking! You were gone all week, and a week after, you’re still practically glowing.”
Anna tried not to smile. She failed.
Their mother glanced over from her tea. “You do seem rather... peaceful this morning.”
“Peaceful?” Heather snorted. “She’s radiant. Practically humming.”
“I’m not humming,” Anna said, cheeks pink.
“You were humming,” Heather said. “When you brought in the post. You didn’t even notice.”
Anna pressed her lips together, failing to hide the smile tugging at them.
“I also don’t think you’ve moved that needle in ten minutes,” Heather said.
Before Anna could reply, a sharp knock came at the door.
A moment later, the maid entered, pale and breathless, eyes wide as saucers.
“Begging your pardon, ma’am– Lady Anna– there’s– there’s a caller.”
Her hands clutched her apron.
“Ma’am. Lady Anna. I– there’s– ”
“Calm down, Marian,” their mother said, setting her cup aside with a slight tremor in her fingers. “Who is it?”
The maid glanced at Anna, then back. “It’s– he’s– Your Grace, I mean– the Duke of Yeats. He’s here.”
The room went still.
Heather sat bolt upright. “I’m sorry– the what?”
The maid wrung her hands. “The Duke of Yeats. He asked for Lord Stenton. Said he’s in the front parlor.”
Their mother slowly rose, as if her joints had suddenly stiffened. “The Duke of– ? Here?”
“He arrived in a carriage, ma’am. The driver’s wearing Yeats livery. The footman is enormous.”
Anna’s heart thudded so hard it might have echoed.
Heather’s eyes were huge. “Anna. Anna. What did you do? Why is the Duke of Yeats at our door?”
