Page 41 of Destined to be a Duchess
Anthony barely knew what to think. Warren was right. He had never lied to Anthony and had only ever wanted the best for him. If his father genuinely believed that Anthony could find happiness alongside Eliana, it was only natural for him to consider her as a prospect for marriage …
If only for a second, until he collected his thoughts. Imagining himself tied to Eliana for eternity, seeing her every day, producing an heir with her, made his stomach turn. In that darkness, he saw another face and heard another voice. Marianne trusted that Anthony could balance his duties with his desire. And more than anything, he wanted to believe her.
He opened his mouth to deny Warren outright, but the man stopped him by speaking first.
“You needn’t decide now, Anthony. I only ask that you consider the option carefully before making your decision. It is what Edward wanted for you. You should not allow your preexisting biases against Eliana—valid though they may be—to colour your judgement before you’ve given the matter proper thought. Return home, sit with the idea a while, and we will reconvene at a later date to make a formal decision.”
He clapped Anthony on the shoulder and started stalking towards the stream.
“And I think you will find your mind much clearer once you are done acting as guardian for Marianne.” Warren glanced over his shoulder, arching a brow. “You were good to take her onto the lake yesterday, but not everyone perceives your actions as the innocent charity I know them to be. But don’t you worry,” he said smiling, “I have invited someone to the house whom I believe could be of use to you.”
“Whoever do you mean?” Anthony started, struggling to get a word in edgewise.
“Have some patience, dear boy. You’ll see when we return to the manor. For now, let us shoot down that deer …”
Chapter 16
Marianne glowered at her embroidery, wondering whether Eliana had beenjokingwhen she had suggested this as their entertainment that morning. To Marianne, this was work.
But at least, she thought, I can embroider rings around these other ladies. Finally, something that I am good at.
She thrust the needle through the fabric, working on a collection of French knots to complete her floral design. She could feel the eyes of the other women boring into her, looking at her work over her shoulder.
They asked hungrily how Marianne had become so talented at needlework—with frequent and intrusive questions that she began to wonder whether this had been Eliana’s plan. By virtue of being a seamstress, Marianne was much more naturally talented than the others. And that singled her out.
“Do you think this looks right?” Lady Jane asked from beside her, tilting her embroidery for Marianne to see. “I’m not sure a feather stitch was right for the border. Oh, but yours looks so much better than mine. I really am useless.”
“Your work is lovely,” Marianne assured her, lying through her teeth. She glanced up, unsurprised to find Eliana watching her from the other side of the drawing room. “Does Eliana usually have the ladies embroider at your gatherings?”
“Not usually,” Jane replied, scowling at her design. She licked her lips in concentration. “But what with the weather, one has to imagine she was all out of ideas. Are you not enjoying yourself? We could ask to do something else.”
“You’re kind to ask, but I assure you, I’m fine.” Marianne sent a smile Eliana’s way, and Eliana quickly looked away. “I am certain Lady Eliana knows what she is doing …”
Marianne let her smile drop. She had been a fool to think that Eliana had genuinely wanted to be friends with her. Anthony’s warning had brought things into sharp relief. The marquess’daughter was merely playing with Marianne. Maybe shehadgenuinely wanted to befriend Marianne for her own selfish gains. But upon seeing how well Marianne got on with Anthony, she likely changed her mind.
With a sigh, Marianne gazed out of the nearby window, wondering where Anthony had gone. The rain had mostly abated, but a light drizzle still fell over the grounds, and an angry grey sky lingered overhead. More storms were coming. She just didn’t know when.
Suddenly, Marianne felt a shadow loom over her. She gasped and turned around, almost impaling her thumb with the embroidery needle. A liveried footman had appeared beside her, and he leaned down to say something only she could hear.
“Your presence has been requested in the great hall, My Lady.”
“Oh?” Marianne felt her hackles rise. She looked towards Eliana for answers, but the woman was locked in conversation with her friends. This interruption, at least, could not be blamed on her host.
With a tepid smile at Lady Jane, Marianne deposited her needlework on the sofa and followed the footman into the entrance hall. Rain pattered against the windows, competing with the sound of her anxious steps. She was initially grateful for the reprieve until she saw who awaited her. She stopped in her tracks, and her heart fell into her stomach.
“But … Gideon?”
Her cousin turned around, having been staring at a tapestry depicting some sort of biblical battle. He greeted Marianne with a nod, watching the footman as he regained his station by the stairs. His hair was damp in places, though he wasn’t wearing an outdoor coat like he had just come in from outside and made himself at home.
Gideon didn’t look particularly pleased to see Marianne either, eyeing her up with the same enthusiasm that Marianne approached a chore that needed completing.
“What on earth are you doing here?” she asked, forgetting her manners in her shock. She crossed the hall to greet him, dropping into a curtsy. “Has something happened?”
“Yes and no.” Gideon looked her up and down, and Marianne wrapped her arms around herself on instinct. “You must be surprised to see me. I did not mean to alarm you.”
“Alarm is not the right word. I am merely …” She paused, not knowing what she was if anything at all. “Well, yours was not a presence that I anticipated.”
“Rightfully so,” Gideon replied. He glanced at the footmen suspiciously. “I would suggest we take a walk to speak, but I fearthe weather has contained you all inside. I received a letter from Lord Hindborough yesterday enquiring about my well-being, for I had not attended the hunting party.”
