Page 52 of Her Wicked Duke
“Egypt!” Anne exclaimed.
“Many of the statues inside the castle also depict Egyptian stories. I also have many statues of British heroes and important figures, but I quite like mythology.”
Anne nodded, as though she understood. He thought of those years she’d scurried away into her brother’s study to educate herself on everything and anything she could find.
As they returned to the castle, they found Annette and the Dowager Duchess waiting outside. Elizabeth, while she tried endlessly to set her grandson up with heiresses, liked Anne. Her small, approving smile was visible as they rode up. It wasn’t always noticeable—a small twitch of her lips, only emphasized by the bold rouge she wore, accompanied by an approving tilt of her head.
As he took in Annette, Alexander wondered at the way she would always flee after an argument with her husband, and how Anne had to mediate their disputes.
He leaned in, and in a barely audible voice said, “Why do you always meddle in your parents’ affairs? They are adults and can handle themselves, surely? It is unfair for you to always calm them down liketheyare the children.”
Anne was surprised at his question. “It is simply my role.”
Oh, he didn’t like that. It wasnother role.
“They will never work things out if you don’t give them the chance.” He looked into her face, the fear that clouded her eyes. “You’re scared of them parting permanently if they argue too much without anybody to calm them down?”
It was a fear he understood. He’d grown up listening to his parents argue greatly.
Anne nodded, looking down as if she was embarrassed by her parents’ unhappy marriage. “I do not wish for a marriage like theirs,” she confessed quietly.
“Then refuse to watch it any longer,” he advised her. “Let them work it out themselves, and they might only grow stronger.”
Anne nodded, smiling a little, as if she knew he was right but was struggling to be convinced. When the horse slowed down to a halt, she sat upright.
“Mama, I got to see the estate!” Anne exclaimed happily, hurrying to dismount the horse.
Alexander couldn’t help her in time but wondered how she managed to jump down deftly without any assistance. It wasn’t an awkward or clumsy scramble, like he would have thought of an inexperienced rider.
“Anne, did you not need assistance?” he asked.
Annette, every inch the older version of Anne, laughed. “Alex, Anne has been riding since she was young! She is quite skilled on horseback.” She cupped Anne’s face. “I am glad you went for a ride, my sweet girl. Her Grace and I have been discussing marvelous propositions! I shall fill you in when we are home.”
As they bid goodbye to the Dowager Duchess, Alexander watched in surprise as he realized that he had been played. It was only confirmed by the mischievous wink that Anne gave him as they went to their carriage.
He sighed as he took his horse back to the stables.
Surely he would find a way to pay her back. She had not taken kindly to being left wanting the other day, so next time he would be sure to reward her kindly in a more secluded space.
Chapter Sixteen
That night, at dinner, Anne ate in contented silence. Her mother was filling her father in on all the details she had discussed with the Dowager Duchess.
Now that Anne and Alexander were openly courting, her mother wished to talk about it with Matthew and also write to Christian, but Anne had managed to convince her otherwise.
“Darling, did Her Grace actually getanyword in around your incessant rambling?” Matthew asked Annette, staring down at the table coldly as he paused eating.
“Yes!” Annette cried, pouting. “Of course, she did! We both spoke at length.”
“I truly am surprised,” Matthew muttered. “Try not to talk too much, dear, as Her Grace might never let Anne marry Alexander if she thinks Anne has inherited your… curse of talking.”
“Curse!” Annette spat. “How dare you, Matthew! Sometimes I wonder why you even married me. You do not like how I speak, you do not like how I dress, you do not like?—”
“Anne, please tell your mother to stop the theatrics.” Matthew sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if it was all too much to deal with. “Honestly, how you were not a working-class actress, I’ll never understand.”
“Because I marriedyou.” It was hurled across the table like an accusation.
Anne went to intervene, as her father had requested, until she recalled Alexander’s advice from earlier. Her father could not rely on her to calm her mother down time and time again.
