Page 63 of Her Wicked Duke
“I’m not your stalker,” he murmured as if she might hear him.
But Anne was gone, and he would never see her again.
Chapter Nineteen
News traveled increasingly fast. Soon, Anne could not go out in public because of the way her scandal followed her.
Women gossiped, men leered, her own friends abandoned her. Clarice seemed to be enjoying the extra attention Anne’s absence afforded her, according to Mary, who had been venturing out on Anne’s behalf.
Yet another unsuccessful Season. It was not over yet, but for Anne, it may as well be.
Her mother and father did not understand. Her father kept insisting that Alexander return to marry her, but her mother fought him heavily on it.
“It is not right!” Matthew snapped. “It is not right at all. He should be a proper man and own up to his mistakes!”
“Papa!” Anne cried. “I amnota mistake!”
“Matthew, do not speak to our daughter in such a way. She is innocent in all of this.”
“She takes after you, it seems,” Matthew spat, even though Annette had never actually had an affair the way the public was claiming Anne had.
Gossip was spreading. Some said that she was betrothed to the Earl of Satton. Others said that a viscount had won her hand in marriage but she had a wandering interest in the Duke of Winsor.
“You should stay in the countryside for a while,” Annette told her. “Get away from all of the nasty gossip.”
“No,” Anne answered glumly. “No, I shall wait it out. Soon enough, another poor girl will be the object of gossip, I shall be forgotten about, and… I do not know, but I shall make it work.”
“You are ruined,” her father muttered. “Your reputation, notyou, my daughter. If Alexander has any sense, he will make things right! It would be honorable to preserve your reputation by marrying you as quickly as he can.”
“And when my brother returns from Europe to find his little sister and best friend married?” Anne challenged. “Please, Papa, do not make the situation worse with your demands. Alexander would not want to marry me, regardless.”
At that, Matthew finally fell silent, as did she.
She looked out the window, sighing. She could only hope word had not traveled to her brother.
“It is all around London, Alexander!” the Dowager Duchess complained, pacing back and forth in his study.
Alexander sat behind his desk, pointedly ignoring her.
“How dare you make such a mockery of me!” she ranted, that infernaltap, tap, tapof her cane emphasizing her anger. “Your father?—”
“I do not care about my father!” Alexander snapped, standing up from his chair. The wooden legs scraped the polished wooden floor. “I do not care, Grandmother! I amnothim. His devious ways have almost made me that way, butheis the heartless man of this castle. I do not wish to be like him.”
“Your father was a good man until your mother led him astray,” Elizabeth hissed. “Do not speak lowly of him.”
“My father’s history speaks lowly of him,” he shot back. “He brought every misfortunate upon himself. He fell in love with my mother, he could have chosen to stay with her. His affair destroyed her.”
“Your mother was a weak woman who could not endure a small amount of shame. Had she been stronger, she’d have simply moved past it, like many women do!”
“My mother was not to blame,” Alexander said, some of the fight draining from him. “My father made choices.”
“As did she. They ruined each other.”
It was pointless to continue arguing about this, with his grandmother still pacing and him watching her helplessly.
“And what were my choices, Grandmother?” he asked quietly. “What choices didImake, to lose my mother, and then my father’s kindness? Because, yes, I remember him being a good man, but I remember the affair he chose to have splashed across every gossip column and dripping from the mouths of every whispering woman in London. I spent the years following that being told that my mother was simply mad and weak. I lost respectandlove for him after that, Grandmother. I do not wish to do the same with you.”
The tapping of her cane halted. She turned toward him sharply. “Do not threaten me, boy.”
