Page 73 of Her Wicked Duke
They were halfway through their dessert when a messenger came rushing up the stairs.
“Lady Anne,” he called, clutching a letter. “It’s Lord Angleton. He says you must return to the Angleton residence immediately. It is about your mother.”
A physician came down to the dining room, where Matthew, Mary, Christian, and Anne all waited anxiously. The message that had disrupted her afternoon with Alexander had been awful. Her mother had almost suffered a heart attack after another argument with her father that morning, once again turning to her treats more than ever without any other support.
“Lady Angleton is awake and ready to receive visitors.”
Christian and Matthew got up first, but Christian strode ahead to their mother’s bedchamber, while Anne and Mary followed behind.
“Mama!” Anne cried as they all crowded around her.
Matthew sat by the head of the bed, holding his wife’s hand in his own and kissing it. It was the first display of affection Anne had seen him extend to her mother in a long, long time.
“How are you feeling?” Anne asked.
Annette smiled weakly. “Like my heart almost gave out, my darling,” she said.
Anne laughed weakly, despite knowing it wasn’t amusing.
Matthew hung his head.
While her mother’s coping mechanisms would need to be managed better, Anne knew her father’s treatment of her would need to change.
Matthew kissed Annette’s knuckles again. “Annette, please forgive me. I cannot believe what I almost caused—what I almost lost.”
And even though her face was pale and tired, and dark circles rimmed her eyes, Annette still tried to laugh it off, but he shook his head.
“No, darling. I’ve been taught a lesson. I’ve been too hard on you—on everyone. I’ve spoken unkindly, I’ve spoken harshly, and I promise you that I will never speak to you like that ever again.” He looked up, meeting Anne’s gaze. “I promise.”
Anne nodded, smiling as she held her mother’s other hand.
Mary soon took her place. “Mama, you must rest and recover so you can come visit me soon. I shall be leaving for the countryside this week, but I’m throwing a party to say goodbye to everyone—only those I am closest to.”
Anne could see the dark circles under her sister’s eyes as well. Mary had dealt with her husband’s betrayal, lies, and true identity, and then his death, all in twenty-four hours. Furthermore, their mother’s near heart attack had added more strain.
“We shall drink till dawn,” Annette teased. “My daughter, must you truly go to the countryside? What will you do there? It shall be boring!”
“And necessary, Mama,” Mary said softly, smiling. “At least until the scandal about Patrick’s awfulness passes.”
“I do believe his awfulness alreadyhaspassed,” Christian muttered.
“Christian!” Annette chided.
But Matthew nodded in agreement. Even Anne had to, as insensitive as it may have been. She herself was recovering from a great deal, and discovering it was Patrick who had been stalking her all this time, timing his letters to frame Alexander and convince everyone it was him—evensuggestingthat day it was Alexander—had caused her some grief and distress.
But Alexander, so far, had been there for her. He had returned with her after the duel and spoken with her father, who had asked for some time to make his decision.
Soon, a knock at the door had them looking up. The butler came to fetch Anne for her visitor. She found Alexander waiting for her in the dining room.
“Good morning, Anne,” he said, smiling.
And she could not fight her own smile. “Good morning, Your Grace.”
He straightened up, a perfect gentleman, as he folded a hand behind his back and bowed to her. “I don’t believe we’ve properly met. I am Alexander Dunst, the Duke of Winsor. I am your brother’s best friend. Would you care to promenade with me this afternoon?”
She laughed at his teasing. He had promised her he wanted to start over slightly, to work on being more open and upfront. She had agreed. All she’d ever wanted was the truth from him without bravado.
She curtsied to him. “I would be honored, Your Grace.”
