Page 2 of Her Wicked Duke
Anne straightened and copied her mother. She was old enough to have a household of her own. This would be the year she would find a match and have her own household.
Together, Anne and her mother went to stand beside her father. She would greet the guests first, seeing that her mother, as the hostess, was standing last in the line. Footmen lined up further down to offer glasses of champagne. More servants were present, ready to take coats and anything else the guests handed over that would be a nuisance to carry around the ballroom.
Anne glanced at her parents as the first guests arrived, finding them conversing well once again. The incident had been forgotten—or forgiven. At least until the next time.
Guests filtered through the doors, kissing cheeks and complimenting the manor, and chatter filled the rooms as they were directed into the ballroom. Anne dutifully stood by her parents to greet every guest. Soon, her friends arrived, the three ladies giggling behind their fans, already eyeing up the gentlemen entering the Angleton residence.
Anne greeted them all, and together they went to the ballroom, lingering on the edge to observe the scene.
“Anne, your mother’s ball is beautiful! Oh, what a stunning arrangement,” one of her friends, Clarice, gushed, trailing her hands over the vases of flowers, the candelabras around the room, and the dining room set up just beyond the ballroom. Her blonde ringlets dangled as she tipped her head back to take in the high ceiling of the ballroom.
While her friends had visited her home many times, the Marchioness aimed to make each Seasonal ball bigger and better. According to the talk after each ball, she succeeded. Many matches had been made at the Angleton residence. Anne just hoped that tonight was the night she would find her own match.
“Your dress is absolutely stunning,” another of her friends, Jocelyn, said, admiring the pale pink silk and lace.
Anne had a white velvet shawl draped around her shoulders, too, complementing the capped sleeves. It was a new one her father had bought her for the Season.
“Oh, you must tell us if you intend for this dress to win the heart of a certain gentleman attending tonight!” her other friend, Georgia, exclaimed.
The four of them were a group of gossiping ladies. Clarice had been courted several times, but none of her suitors ended up proposing. Jocelyn was being courted by a young gentleman from the countryside.
Anne wished to also experience what it felt like to be courted. Giggling, she leaned in. “I must confess that my eyes seek the Earl of Satton. We danced once during the previous Season, but unfortunately, I couldn’t get another chance to meet him outside a ballroom.”
“We are so glad you have returned to the Season, Anne,” Jocelyn said.
Anne swallowed, glancing away from her friends at the mention. She had never told them the true reason why she had pulled out of the previous Season. Only her brother knew, but he was gone, and she was trying to put the worries out of her mind. She was in her home; there was no safer place—at least she hoped.
“I heard Lord Satton shall be attending with his old classmate, the Earl of Marston!” Georgia squealed. She had been hoping to win the Earl of Marston’s affections.
“Oh, the Earl of Satton is very dashing, is he not?” Clarice sighed, fanning herself. “You must pursue him, Anne. We shall plot together to arrange it, otherwise.”
“Yes, Anne!” Jocelyn nodded enthusiastically. “You have liked him for some time. I do hope he asks you to dance. Georgia, you and Anne should conspire to get both of the earls to dance with you.”
“Excellent idea,” Georgia agreed, giggling.
“Oh, did you hear that the Duke of Winsor shall be attending tonight?” Clarice asked. Anne could see hearts practically forming in her friend’s eyes. “It shall be the first event he has attended since his return from France last year. I wonder what has convinced him to attend your mother’s ball tonight. I fear it shall be for no good reason.”
“The Duke of Winsor has returned?” Anne asked, surprised.
She had not heard about Alexander Dunst’s whereabouts in quite some time. He was her brother’s best friend, but she had not seen him in many years. The last she heard, he had left London on a ferry to France to live with his grandmother.
“Oh, yes! He is your brother’s good friend, is he not? They went to school together?” Georgia asked.
Anne nodded. “I have not seen His Grace in quite some years.”
She had not. She was sure it had been close to four years since he had left to live with his grandmother in France. Christian had missed his best friend awfully, but Anne had felt that she breathed easier during the holidays with Alexander gone.
“That is likely for the best,” Jocelyn said. “He is quite a dangerous man to know—or so they say.”
“He is?” Anne was surprised by the statement.
Alexander had always been kind enough to her, if not a little reserved, and kept to himself. He had an air about him, something that quietly commanded attention, and she had struggled to keep her composure around him, so she had avoided him as much as she could.
“You have not heard?” Clarice asked. “His Grace is incredibly heartless. He has ruined everyone who dares oppose him. It is quite surprising he is still your brother’s best friend.”
“Surprising, indeed,” Anne murmured, trying to picture the Duke as a heartless man.
Georgia leaned in. “I heard he once challenged a man to a duel because he rather liked the woman he was courting. They were only stopped by the lady’s father. The Duke wanted her but eventually walked away.”
