Page 59 of Destined to be a Duchess
“The chances of my falling in love in a week are slim at best,” Marianne said, knowing it was a lie. How long had it taken her before she was fawning over Anthony? “And even if I did meet someone, I would return here to you with the news. It doesn’tmake me happy to leave you ... but this is important, don’t you think?”
“It will be the most important day of your life, the meeting with the judge,” Catherine said. “Well, second perhaps to the day of your marriage. Speaking of which ...”
A knock on the door cut off the duchess. Miss Barclay appeared in her travelling clothes, carrying Marianne’s newly polished shoes. Like Catherine, Miss Barclay had shown little enthusiasm at being dragged away from the house again on such short notice. She had planned to take Marianne to the duchess’ favourite modiste in London the moment they arrived—because the fashions, she stressed, were a different beast in London.
Marianne knew that first-hand, having already made a mental map of all the shops to avoid in London owned by seamstresses she once knew. They would ask questions, and she would feel awkward at her rise in station. It was better to avoid some fragments of her past altogether.
“Your Grace, we are ready to depart,” Miss Barclay said, tending the shoes to Marianne. “These are for you, My Lady.”
“I could hardly go to London barefoot,” Marianne joked, taking her delicate, low-heeled boots and slipping them on. She clicked her heels against the floor, testing them for fit. “It will already be an uphill battle introducing myself to the ton once my status is officially recognized. Better to do it without my toes showing.”
“They will meet you, listen to what you have to say, and fall in love with you exactly like I have,” Catherine said, cupping Marianne’s cheeks.
“If I were not mourning for the next year, you know I would take you there myself. In these short weeks, Marianne, I have come to think of you as my own flesh and blood. Though you may be leaving it for now, this house will always be a home to you. So go to London in the confidence that you are wanted here and that you will be wanted there.” She squeezed her face. “I am so proud of you, Lady Marianne Chambers.”
There was nothing Marianne could say to express her gratitude properly. She had lost a mother in London. She did not plan on losing Catherine, too. When she returned to Moorhaven Manor—and she would—they would pick up where they left off. Thinking as much, Marianne held Catherine’s hand against her face and murmured a goodbye, holding back tears as Miss Barclay led her out of the house.
Anthony and Patrick milled by the carriage. The duke leaned on the back wheel, looking as weary as he had for the last two days. She could only imagine what was going through his mind. The fear Marianne felt over Eliana’s threat was nearly debilitating. With the addition of De Laurier’s twisted practices and Warren’s lies, it was a miracle Anthony had got himself out of bed that morning.
“Our party of four reunites,” Patrick said, tapping the carriage roof. “Perhaps for the last time. Once His Grace is officially a duke, and once you become a lady, you will not condescend to spend time with poor Mr Bowers. Know that I shall be looking enviously up at you from the bottom of Olympus.”
“There’s no need to be so dramatic,” Marianne teased, having worried the same in secret. "We will always make time for each other. And that’s if our trip to London changes anything, which it most likely won’t. It’s all ceremonial, isn’t it? We will return to Moorhaven like nothing happened.”
Anthony looked unconvinced, and Marianne wondered why. Was there something she didn’t understand about their situation? Or was he merely concerned about what awaited them once they had attended their duties in London?
He straightened into a stand when Plym approached. The staff of Moorhaven Manor gathered on the front steps to bid their duke farewell. Marianne stepped towards the carriage, steeling her nerves.
And then she heard a rider coming up the drive. A horse appeared in the near distance as a familiar gentleman trotted towards their vehicle.
“Is that ...?” Marianne asked, knowing full well who it was.
Gideon slowed his horse to a stop on the other side of the carriage. He carried a portmanteau on his shoulder—like he was preparing to travel somewhere soon. Dismounting his horse and handing the reins to the approaching footman, Gideon swept back his blond hair and greeted Marianne, the duke, and the rest of them in turn.
“It appears the ride took longer than I thought,” he said, looking sideways at the carriage. “Her Grace said to be here by ten o’clock, and I could have sworn it was only eight when I left. Were you leaving without me?”
“My mother invited you?” Anthony asked, stepping forward. Marianne picked up the note of irritation in his voice. “She has invited you to come to London with us?”
“She wrote yesterday saying that my presence was required in London—for Lady Marianne.” Gideon looked her up and down. “Were you not aware?”
Suddenly, Marianne understood why Catherine had chosen to stay inside during their goodbyes. That didn’t explain why Catherine had invited Gideon in the first place. She debated storming back inside for answers, but Anthony was already on his way.
*
“Perhaps you could explain to me why the Earl of Foxbury has just ridden up the drive, claiming he is to accompany us to London?”
The accusation left Anthony in a breath as he stopped in the doorway to the drawing room. His mother turned from the window, her face set in grim determination. He had not seen that look for many years. Not since he was a child who had done something to embarrass her.
“I had hoped you would leave gracefully ... but here we are.” She turned on her heel, sighing loudly. “You should not have planned to take Marianne to London alone. Lord Foxbury is her rightful guardian, morally if not legally. He should be there when she presents the courts with the documents to legitimize her. I knew that if I told you as much, it would only lead to a fight.”
“So, you went behind my back and wrote the earl in my stead? This was not your decision to make,” Anthony shouted, growing more confused by the second. “If Marianne had wanted Foxbury to accompany us, she would have asked him to come.”
“But instead, she agreed to go with you alone. And I have to wonder why ...”
Anthony started, hoping he had misheard. His mother tutted and looked at him, a sad smile playing on her lips. He could seethe rest in the courtyard through the window, waiting for his return.
“I am not blind to what has blossomed between you and Marianne. As of yet, I cannot gauge the severity of the situation. But Ihaveseen a change in you, Anthony. You will forgive me for this, but I do not trust you to control your emotions alone in London, not in your present state. So yes, I called the Earl of Foxbury to us, hoping his presence at Colline House would keep you in check.”
“What present state?” Anthony bristled at her words, scoffing. “I am perfectly fine.”
