Page 62 of Corrupting his Duchess
Her hand dropped and clenched at her sides, the ache under her skin unbearable. All she wanted to do was to find Henry. To feel his mouth on hers. To do something reckless…something alive, if only once in her life. She wanted to taste the tension that had been simmering between them for days and tear down every inch of distance they’d politely maintained.
She straightened, wildness surging hot in her blood.
“Anna?”
The voice made her flinch.
It was Julia’s voice, soft for once, lacking its usual flair.
Anna turned her head slowly, spine straight, jaw tight. The urge still burned under her skin, furious and aching. But she pushed it down. Swallowed it whole.
She didn’t answer, but the footsteps came anyway, light and familiar. Julia appeared at her side, followed closely by Gretchen, whose expression was unreadable, and Natalie, who stood quietly beside her sister.
“We’ve been looking everywhere,” Julia said, brushing Anna’s arm gently. “Come.”
They led her to a nearby antechamber off the gallery, where the fire had been left to smolder low and the curtains were drawn against the night. Candlelight flickered in a wall sconce, casting soft gold over the silk of their sleeves and the lines of Anna’s tightly folded hands.
Julia said with concern, “Sit. Speak. We are not gentlemen. You do not have to pretend with us.”
Anna didn’t sit until they coaxed her to it, and even then, her posture was brittle. Her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
“I’m fine,” she said, too quickly.
“No, you’re not,” Gretchen replied. “And that’s allowed.”
Gretchen spoke first, her voice low. “Was it Lord Stenton? We saw him talking to you, did he threaten you?”
Anna exhaled slowly. “He reminded me what I owe. What I was meant to become.”
Julia gave a quiet, sharp laugh. “I hope you told him the many places where he could insert his idea of duty.”
“I told him I wasn’t for sale,” Anna said.
“That sounds very like him,” Julia muttered, her fan snapping closed. “As if you were a coin to be traded.”
Gretchen’s brow furrowed, but her voice remained even. “He’s trying to corner you into something. Something he’s already decided is good for him.”
Julia leaned in, her tone softer now. “What did he say exactly?”
Anna looked down, blinking fast. “He wants me to marry Henry. He said marrying well was my duty.”
They were silent for a breath.
“He reminded me what's at stake, he said it would help everyone, my mother, Heather, the estate. That if I ruin this… if I let this opportunity slip, he’ll consider…alternatives.”
Gretchen paled, “Alternatives?”
“Marrying Heather off instead. To someone…unsuitable. The Marquess of Bellcliff.”
Natalie’s quiet gasp broke the silence. Her wide eyes found her sister’s, but she said nothing.
“That odious old man, he's fifty-five. He wouldn't,” Julia gasped.
“He would,” Anna said. “Just to prove he can.”
“I can’t let him do that,” Anna continued, her voice breaking. “She’s just seventeen, Heather deserves time. And choice. And I’ve already sacrificed everything I could to keep us together.”
Then Julia stood abruptly. “I think I need a biscuit before I start flinging chairs. Anyone else?”
