Page 14 of Her Wicked Duke
“Wonderful.” Annette giggled, familiar with her daughter’s mannerisms. “You must tell me who you danced with! Which suitors do you have your eye on? Are we expecting any today, after breakfast?”
“I imagine so.” Anne smiled, sharing the enjoyment with her mother.
“We must get you dressed and prepared, then! Finish up, and we will have you ready to greet them!”
As they finished their breakfast in a more pleasant manner, Anne watched her father’s brow crease as he watched her mother eat. As Annette buttered another slice of toast, the crumbs fell on the neckline of her gown.
An unpleasant feeling churned in Anne’s stomach. Did her father ever regret pursuing her mother?
She did not wish to be cursed with her mother’s appetite for treats to calm her nerves, but she wished to have a husband who would want a genuine, honest version of her, however that might look.
“Papa,” Anne said, drawing her father’s attention.
When had he last looked at her mother with love? Was that why his comments were often unkind and nasty?
“Do you remember the night you met Mama?”
“Oh, as if he does!” Annette scoffed, shaking her head. She laughed quietly to herself, but there was hurt in her eyes.
Anne looked desperately at her father, who only shifted his gaze from her to her mother and then back to her coolly. “It was a beautiful summer evening, at a residence owned by one of the most sought-after earls in England. I thought, for sure, your mother would have had her eye on him, but she gave me the honor of a dance. I visited her the following day, and I fell in love.”
Anne’s eyes widened, her father’s soft recollection making her have a moment of hope. It was a respite from his unkindness.
“And now?” Anne pressed. “You are still in love? Both of you?”
Annette and Matthew looked at each other, sharing a rare smile. Neither answered, but it was not a tense silence, and Anne knew she had not ruined anything by asking.
When her plate was empty and cleared, Annette held out her hand. “That was just what I needed. Come, Anne. Let us get you ready.” As they left, she wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “I went to that ball thinking myself worthy of catching the Earl’s eye, and I would have, but I met your father first. The man we think we might want is not necessarily the one we’ll end up with, Anne. Remember that.”
Anne thought of the Earl of Satton, intertwined with two women, and how she had wanted him before his depravity was revealed. Then, Alexander’s deep blue eyes flashed in her mind, and she swallowed, ignored her flushing cheeks, and let herself be pampered and prettied up.
Anne thought that being a sought-after debutante was quite flattering until she realized that she needed to agonizingly entertain each and every suitor that turned up.
An older man sat opposite her, his nose pinched and scrunched up as if she was somehow lucky that he was gracing her with his presence.
Anne smiled politely. “So, you mentioned you’re a businessman?” she asked conversationally, hoping this man was more interesting than the last. But his hair was graying, and her hopes wavered.
“Yes,” he answered, looking around. “Your home is quite grand.”
“Thank you, Lord Tarton. What sort of business do you run?”
“Your parents must be quite wealthy to have a home such as this.”
She did not remember this man’s face from the ball the previous night, and she wondered why he was even here if he didn’t want to ask her about herself. He seemed more interested in their residence than anything.
“Quite,” she answered politely. “I do not engage in their financial affairs. But Iamquite interested in yours, Lord Tarton.”
He looked at her and wrinkled his nose. “I should think this house would sell for a lot and you could come to the countryside to live with me. Your family, too, perhaps.”
Anne politely found a way to dismiss him after that.
The next callers were even more interested in her father’s wealth than her, and she didn’t enjoy the time she spent with them at all. None of them made her feel truly seen or understood.
Another entered the house, wrinkling his nose. His sideburns were thick and bushy. “Do you have a dog, Lady Anne?”
“No, we don’t, My Lord,” she answered, smiling weakly.
Four suitors in, and she was becoming rather irritated at the polite conversations.
