Page 47 of Destined to be a Duchess
Chapter 18
Anthony would have recognized the painting anywhere. It had hung in his father’s private reading room for years unnumbered. His most cherished memories—his father reading to him late into the night—featured that same Velasquez painting. It was the same painting that had been sold while his father was ill, according to Mr Acaster.
All along, it had been sold to Warren, Anthony thought through the cloud of his rage.But when I asked Warren about my father’s final months, he said he knew nothing about the paintings. And if he lied about that …
A dark feeling bloomed in Anthony’s chest. He was torn from his shock only by the pressure of Marianne’s hands clutching at his coat lapels, shaking him.
Marianne…What am I doing? I had almost kissed her, and now …
She released him suddenly, her eyes rounding in fear. Turning, he saw Eliana—like she had. And Eliana had obviously seen them.
He shouted something, trying to stop her from leaving. But Eliana had always done what she wanted. She dashed from the room, and Anthony, without thinking, turned to give chase.
“I’m so sorry,” he said to Marianne as he left. “I have to find her … I’m sorry.”
Marianne would hate him for leaving her, and maybe that was for the best. If he had so little control over himself, over his feelings for her, that he had almostruinedher, then she was better off without him anyway.
Eliana didn’t stray far. He heard a door closing, then felt a draught splice the air of the primary gallery room. A glass door led to the garden, and Anthony followed Eliana outdoors.
His eyes adjusted to the darkness outside, feeling lost and helpless. The grounds of Hagram Park stretched out in front of him like a black, endless sea. How could a place he had once considered a second home now feel like a freshly dug grave waiting for him to fall? Eliana would bury him if only to spite Marianne.
“I gave you too much credit,” she said in the darkness. “You are hopeless after all. Not just hopeless, but a rake, too. I don’t know whether to be impressed or disappointed.”
Anthony spotted her leaning against the stone fence that separated the back terrace from the grounds. She began to walk away once Anthony approached. He was quicker on his feet and grabbed her wrist long enough to stop her.
“You saw nothing,” Anthony said, gritting his teeth together.
Eliana laughed. “Oh, we’re playingthatgame?” She leaned forward, taunting him, no less a child than she had been when Anthony had first met her. “I saw everything, Anthony. You are so stupid. You had to succumb to your urges here, of all places? Is the bastard daughter of Nicholas Chambers really so tempting? Little succubus …”
“I will not stand to hear you speak of her that way.” Anthony clenched his fists, snarling in her face. It only seemed to please Eliana, who had him right where she wanted him. “Whatever you might think you saw—think of me—Marianne is blameless. Do not ruin her for your own satisfaction. Nothing has happened that you have not imagined.”
“Because you didn’t kiss her butalmostkissed her? Almost is more than enough.” Every word lilted like they were playing a game she knew she would win. “Tell me why I shouldn’t go inside and tell everyone what I have seen. It is the right thing to do.”
Anthony had clearly lost sight of what was right and wrong. It didn’t matter how strongly he cared for Marianne—having realized as she gazed into his painting, and he gazed at her, that he was dangerously close to falling in love with her. It didn’t matter that he had been stopped from kissing her by Warren’s theft. The thought alone was shameful, and thinking it shamed her. She deserved so much better. She was the most beautiful, funniest, cleverest woman he had ever had the pleasure of knowing. He couldn’t have stopped himself from wanting her if he had tried. And hehad. He was long past right and wrong.
He felt sick, knowing what had to be done but wishing there was another way. He thought about Marianne, wondering whether she had wanted him to kiss her or had only stood there out of fright. He didn’t have time to ask her now. He could only mitigate as much of the damage from his mistake as possible—even at the cost of his honour. It would be worth it to damn himself if it meant protecting her.
“I’m waiting,” Eliana said.
“So you are … I had always known your morals were skewed, but this is wicked even for you.” Anthony swallowed hard, trying to devise anything that would stop her from ruining Marianne. “I doubt your father will be half pleased hearing of my transgression.”
“He’ll be positively crushed.” She pouted teasingly. “He always did so like you. I never quite understood why. At least in that, I am vindicated.”
“Vindicated so soon?” Anthony paused, despising himself more with each word. “For just this morning, he had all but given me his blessing to become his son-in-law. I cannot imagine you were not included in the conversation. But I suppose, in light of this, the offer is off the table.”
Eliana was quiet at last.Good, Anthony thought. He didn’t need her to believe he wanted to marry her—he wouldn’t, not even now. But he just needed to buy enough time to ensure her silence until he could figure out what to do next.
“Impressed,” Eliana murmured, answering her own earlier question. She straightened, and her jaw tightened. “I have tried to blackmail you, and now you are blackmailing me …? And here I thought we couldn’t have been more different. I know you are not seriously considering my father’s offer, so don’t pretend to be in love with me. Your affections, deluded though they may be, clearly lie elsewhere.”
“I would not have disgraced either of us by pretending to care for you more than I do.” His care for her at present was null. “I am merely stating the facts. If you return inside and inform thetonof my indiscretion, more will be lost than just my honour.”
She sighed deeply, turning to look back at the manor. Shadows danced along the terrace in squares of pale light. Anthony hoped that Marianne was back among them, flexing his hand as he recalled the softness of her skin against his palm. Another thing that was lost because of his indiscretion.
“Have it your way,” Eliana replied. “I will keep your dirty little secret for now. But I will not keep it forever without good reason. I suggest you come up with one. Quick.”
Anthony nodded, feeling faint as she began to walk away. Theywouldsurvive the night. But it was anyone’s guess what would happen in the morning.
“Wait,” he called, stopping Eliana as she reached the door. “In Warren’s gallery, I saw a painting that had once belonged to my father. It was a Velasquez, and my father cherished it. Do you know nothing about how it was acquired?”
