Page 7 of Duke of Bronze
Anna groaned, setting her toast down with a sigh. Her father still looked hopeful, and it made her stomach twist unpleasantly.
She had made her stance on marriage clear—on that, there had never been any ambiguity. And yet, here he was, wearing an expression she could not bear to see, because she knew with certainty that in a matter of weeks she would dash whatever hope he had foolishly allowed himself to nurture.
I have no intention of marrying anyone. Least of all Copperton.Before she could dwell too much on the thought, a bright voice cut through her musings."Oh, I seem to have arrived at precisely the right moment."
Anna looked up as Petunia De Neve walked into the breakfast room. "Aunt Petunia!" Anna exclaimed, some of her earlier ire fading at the sight of her father's cousin—whom they called ‘aunt' out of love and respect.
Petunia, once a widow, had lived with them for years. She had been there to guide Elizabeth and Margaret through their seasons, and once they were both married, she had gone and done the most scandalous thing imaginable—married a Belgian Count. That had done little to change her, though. She still made frequent visits to London, and still possessed the unnerving ability to know precisely when she was needed most.
She plucked a berry from the fruit platter and popped it into her mouth. "Nothing is quite like breakfast, hmm?"
"Does your husband starve you, dear?" Sebastian chuckled.
"Hardly." Petunia grinned. "Though he does have a rather alarming tendency to finish two plates while I am still on my first. I suspect he believes the food may vanish if he does not claim it swiftly."
Anna laughed, grateful for the lighthearted diversion. "What would he think if he knew you spoke of him in such a manner?"
"Oh, he wouldn't know," Petunia said airily. "Not unless you tell him."
Anna arched a brow. "That is an idea"
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Would I not?" Anna countered.
Her father chuckled into his coffee while Petunia leaned forward, eyes sparkling with delight. "Very well, then. You win this round. But I suspect you did not summon me here for idle chatter. What mischief have you gotten yourself into this time, dearest?"
"I do believe I require your expertise." Anna groaned, pushing her plate away.
"Excellent. That is precisely what I came for." Petunia's smile widened.
"Now, tell me everything. I was at King's Theatre last night and missed the auction entirely," Petunia declared, her eyes alight with curiosity as she reached for another berry.
Before Anna could so much as part her lips, Sebastian leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he began, "It was quite the spectacle, Petunia. A most generous bid—one thousand guineas, if you can believe it—secured by none other than the Duke of Copperton."
Petunia's brows lifted. "A thousand guineas? My word."
"Indeed. And Anna," Sebastian cast his daughter a knowing look, "was most delighted by the turn of events."
Anna nearly dropped her spoon. "I wasambushed!"
Sebastian chuckled. "Yes, yes. Ambushed, of course. But Copperton seemed quite pleased with his prize."
"Prize," Anna muttered, stabbing at her breakfast with unnecessary force. "I shall never forgive any of you."
"Of course, Anna remains rather skeptical about the whole arrangement," he finished with an amused glance at his daughter.
"Perhaps that is because I was kept wholly in the dark about it," Anna interjected, her voice tinged with exasperation.
"Oh, that is all in the past now, dear," Petunia dismissed her objection with a wave of her hand, as if the entire ordeal were a minor inconvenience rather than an affront to Anna's very dignity. "What truly matters is ensuring you make the most of your time with the Duke."
Anna nearly choked. "Oh, not you too, Aunt Petunia," she groaned, catching the unmistakable gleam of hope in her aunt's eyes.
Before she could mount a proper defense, a knock echoed through the breakfast room.
"The Duke of Copperton, Your Grace," the butler announced.
Anna did not miss the delighted squeal Petunia attempted—and failed—to stifle. She schooled her features into one of politesurprise, for unexpected calls such as these had become an unavoidable aspect of her new predicament.
