Page 16 of Destined to be a Duchess
Marianne looked down at her lap, thinking. “So … it’s like a private club where youpretendto learn, but really you pass the time making friends and perfecting your good manners to impress them? A strange sort of school, indeed.”
The table fell silent. Marianne glanced up to find Miss Barclay staring at her in horror while the men looked like they were desperately trying not to laugh. Catherine gave her the same look she had granted her son not moments before. And Marianne, despite promising the duke that she was perfectly confident enough already, felt like a perfect fool.
“That’s one way to summarize it,” the duke replied after their collective stunned silence had passed. He cleared his throat, straightening in his seat. “If you like, I could show you my notebooks from my time there. I’m certain we’ll find something to interest you.”
She smiled sheepishly, touched that he would even offer. “I could try to read through them and tell you my thoughts. Perhaps I might learn to make a few friends of my own.”
The duke nodded, and the rest took up innocent chatter around them. Marianne reached for her tea, expecting their conversation to end there.
“I think you are rather good at making friends already,” the duke murmured so quietly that Marianne almost didn’t hear him. She turned to him, blushing madly, and found the duke blushing too. He glanced over her towards his mother.
“I questioned my mother’s preference for some rules of etiquette over others earlier. But on my walk, I was thinking … Witheveryone else calling each other by their Christian names, I see no reason why you should continue to address me as though we are strangers. You may call me Anthony, and I should like to call you by your name.”
“Marianne,” she said, fighting a smile. “Had you forgotten it? Was this a painfully convoluted way of you asking me for it again?”
“I could not have forgotten if I had tried.” The duke—Anthony—smiled a little wider. “It’s a … fine name. It suits you. I was thinking about that on my walk as well.”
“You seem to do a great deal of thinking about me while I’m not around,” Marianne teased. She couldn’t help it. Speaking with Anthony was effortless despite the world of differences between them. “I’m sorry I occupy so many of your thoughts.”
“Now you are pushing your luck.” His tone was light, merely pretending to be cross with her. His smile brightened, and her heart skipped a beat. Was the duke … flirting with her? It wasn’t possible, especially not with his mother sitting a foot away from them. “Do not make me regret breaking this rule. I am usually so good at abiding them.”
Before she could test him more despite his warning, Catherine stirred beside her. Marianne promptly leaned away from Anthony, pressing her palms against her cheeks to cool herselfoff. It was unseasonably warm for late August—made all the warmer for the duke's company.
When she dared a look in his direction, he seemed completely unaffected, sipping languidly from his coffee while asking Patrick for the newspaper he had finished reading.
Anthony paused across the table as his mother called his name. Marianne snuck a peek over her shoulder, wondering whether something in the letter had caused the interruption.
“Warren has written, and he has included a note for you from Eliana,” Catherine announced, passing a sealed note to her son. Anthony took it, his expression changing immediately.
Marianne’s heart lodged in her throat. To her relief, Patrick asked the question she didn’t dare ask herself. “Warren? Eliana?” He shook his head, grinning, as Anthony levelled him with a serious look. “I’m an insatiable gossip—shoot me. I presume these are friends of yours?”
“They are more like family to us now.” Catherine placed her letter down, having developed a seemingly keen interest in Anthony’s reaction to his own note. “He is the Marquess of Hindborough, and Lady Eliana Webb is his only daughter.
They sit not too far from here at Hagram Park, on the other side of Norwich. His family has been in the area longer than evenwe have. I think they gained their title in the twelfth century—something along those lines.”
“Hindborough, of course,” Patrick said, snapping his fingers. “He joined us for the Florentine leg of our journey. He didn’t mention a daughter, nor did you,” he directed at Anthony.
For his part, the duke set the letter down unopened and returned to his coffee. “I found no reason to speak of her. Eliana is a friend. Sort of. We have many friends.”
Marianne stared at the note almost as intently as Catherine. Something more was afoot between them, regardless of whether or not Anthony was willing to admit as much at the breakfast table. She imagined him tearing into the letter as soon as he was alone, where he could be his real self. She imagined him smiling at whatever was written inside—and she felt the blood drain from her face again.
“Be that as it may,” Catherine said, pursing her lips, “these friends, in particular, have invited us to a house party with them. The marquess hosts a yearly hunting party at the beginning of the season, and Edward—my husband—was a diligent attendee. Naturally, I cannot be present this year, butyoushould.” She rapped the table softly, calling for Anthony’s attention.
“I may be in London by then,” he replied, quick as a whippet. “And I could hardly attend a party there when we are hosting guests at Moorhaven.”
“I see no reason why you should not bring Marianne and Patrick with you. London may have been a stretch, I admit.” Catherine patted Marianne’s hand, rousing her from her thoughts. “We should start small, should Marianne ultimately decide to accept her heritage. The Webbs are of the most accommodating, kind-hearted stock in all of England. I can think of no better people to facilitate oneLady Marianne’sentrance into society.”
Marianne’s head was spinning. She shuffled in her seat, mustering the courage to say something, when Anthony spoke for her.
“The beginning of the season is a few weeks away, and I suspect this party starts sooner than that. It is not for you to decide whether Marianne will be ready by then to change the course of her life indelibly.”
Her eyes smarted at his defence. She looked up, thanking him wordlessly for his intervention. Anthony nodded softly, turning to face his mother again. Catherine looked between them before ultimately conceding her defeat.
“So be it.” The duchess rose out of her seat, forcing a smile. For all her kindness, it was obvious that Catherine did not like being defied twice in a row. “There are a few days left before we must grant Hagram Park an answer. In that time, I think you will both come to see what I know to be true: There is only a brief windowof time beforewaitingbecomesevading. You cannot avoid the truth forever—either of you.”
Chapter 8
"Your Grace, with all due respect, these matters will not wait for your interest before needing to be resolved. There are pressing issues among them indeed, and I dare say it would not be wise to delay addressing them.”
