Page 39 of Destined to be a Duchess
“It was the privacy of the room I sought, not the literature,” Anthony corrected, slipping his sketchpad into his coat pocket. “Though I admit that your collection is impressive.”
More than impressive. In the two years since Anthony had last visited Hagram Park, the Hindborough library had doubled in size. The estate as a whole seemed more lavishly decorated. Warren was an art collector. It was not unusual for him to display paintings in his home and sell them later. But the sheer number of treasures he had collected over the last few years made Anthony’s head spin. What sort of windfall had the Webb family received?
“I’ve been busy since you were last here.” Warren’s smile was worn tight. “Upstart industrialists plague London, and every one of them seeks to imitate our way of life and decorate their new homes with paintings—old masterpieces they haven’t the knowledge to display properly and appreciate.
It is our duty to protect these artifacts from being lost to the greed of others. Because I assure you, theywillbe lost unless we fulfil our roles as the curators of history.”
Anthony wrinkled his nose. “It’s a little early for philosophy. I’m still digesting breakfast,” he joked, walking towards the exit. “But now that you mention it, one of my land agents pointed out that my father sold a number of items from his collection. You wouldn’t happen to know who purchased them? Not one of those philistine industrialists?”
Warren frowned and shook his head. “Edward had his head screwed on straight. I doubt he sold them at all. Who’s to say they are not at one of the other houses?” He clapped Anthony on the shoulder, hastening their pace. “But come. There are more pressing matters at present. You’ll pair with me for the hunting this morning, won’t you? The rain has discouraged most of the other gentlemen, and I find myself in want of a decent partner.”
“You’ll recall that I ride much better than I shoot.” Anthony glanced sideways at the bag of hunting rifles the servant carried. “And as for judging the game …”
“We’ll make a country lord of you yet,” Warren said, leading Anthony into the entrance hall. “I have a final matter to attend before we depart. Wait for me here with the others.”
Anthony watched Warren stalk towards the stairs, recruiting a nearby footman on the way. He disappeared, and Anthony turned to the ten or so gentlemen who had gathered for the hunt. Patrick was nowhere to be seen, and after greeting the otherguests, Anthony settled with a small group of Warren’s closest friends—who had been his father’s preferred society, too.
He took up their chosen topic of conversation, nodding absently as they discussed the publication of that year’s cricket almanac. Anthony couldn’t have cared less for the sport. His gaze wandered as footsteps and laughter emanated from the nearby hallway.
Lady Eliana led a pack of ladies into the entrance hall, spotting Anthony immediately. He supplied her with a smile, relaxing once he saw Marianne enter behind her. Another young lady accompanied her, and the two appeared to be getting along well.
Excusing himself, Anthony made a beeline for Marianne through the throng of hunters and debutantes, feeling Eliana hot on his tail as he finally greeted Marianne.
“We’re off hunting,” he said, berating himself for the awkward greeting.
“I gathered as much from how you were dressed,” Marianne said, laughing. She looked him up and down. “Are you sure you’re covered enough for the rain? It seems like the poor weather has returned from earlier this season.”
“We’ll be fine under the cover of the forest. It’s only a drizzle besides,” Anthony replied. He recognized Marianne’s new friendas Lady Jane, the daughter of the Earl of Carlton. “What will you ladies occupy yourselves with while we are gone?”
“I’ve organized a most entertaining day for us,” Eliana interrupted, sidling too close up beside Anthony. She tapped her nose. “But I shan’t say anything else, or it will spoil all the fun for this evening. You’ll just have to wait and see, Your Grace … It occurs to me that we haven’t spoken since your boat ride. You remained on the water for quite some time. Some of us worried you had decided to sail Lady Marianne back to London.”
Lady Jane laughed politely, but Marianne didn’t bother. “His Grace was merely helping me find my sea legs. Well, lake legs.” She shrugged one-shouldered. “I can assure you, Lady Eliana, I am going nowhere soon.”
Anthony beamed with pride. Marianne had found more than herlake legs. He glanced over their heads as Warren appeared at the top of the stairs. He called the waiting hunters below, informing them they would be leaving immediately.
Using the distraction, Anthony leaned down to whisper to Marianne.
“I have no real plans to hunt this morning, but I sense the same cannot be said for you.” He reeled back, finding Marianne grinning back at him. “Play nicely, Marianne.”
She pursed her lips. “Oh no, Your Grace. I will play to win or not at all.”
*
Anthony wiped a pellet of rain from his brow, looking up at the canvas of leaves overhead. The forest surrounding Hagram Park grew thicker the further they walked from the house. Anthony estimated they were two miles away by now as he stalked through the woods alongside Warren and his man.
The other hunters had split off into groups at the forest entrance, each bearing a map of the grounds and a compass, to avoid running into each other and spoiling the game with unwelcome activity or errant bullets.
“The deer have never minded a steady rain,” Warren said, climbing over a fallen log. “The female roe we spotted earlier will be settled by the burn; just you watch.”
Anthony tried to show some enthusiasm, refraining from telling Warren he had no interest in hunting. The forest floor squelched under his boots as they progressed southward, though Anthony’s mind was elsewhere.
“This is the first time you and I have been afforded any real time alone since the party began,” Warren continued. He tippedup his hat, wiping his nose. “I had wanted to sit down with you for a drink on the first night, but both of us have been required elsewhere. How are things for you with the duchy?”
“You will have to be more specific,” Anthony replied, navigating the undergrowth with more ease than Warren.
“I mean to ask how you’re settling into your new role as the duke,” Warren specified. “It was under similar circumstances that I acquired my own title from my father. Like you, I was young and unmarried, believing I had all the time in the world before my duty caught up with me.
It is not easy, as a young man, to be thrust into a position of power long before one is ready. My support has been an unspoken promise to you since the day you were born. You need only ask, and I will supply you with the knowledge, advice, or resources you seek—like I always have done.”
