Page 25 of Destined to be a Duchess
“Have you given any thought to attending the Season next year?” Lavinia asked.
“Oh.” Marianne understood her meaning now. “Goodness, no. Not really, at least. The duchess said a few things, but … I’ve barely had time to catch my breath since Her Grace invited me here, let alone, well … Gentlemen have been quite far from my mind.”
“You should strike while the iron is hot,” Lavinia suggested. “Once we announce you, the whole of Norfolk will be abuzz with news of you. And news spreads quickly to London. Men will flock to you in droves just out of curiosity. Though, of course,” she paused to laugh, “I always think that one should search closer to home for that sort of thing.”
“Now you really are pushing your luck,” Gideon warned. “You have known the woman for all of ten minutes, and already you’re playing matchmaker. Leave her well be.”
“It was only a bit of friendly advice.” Lavinia’s voice lilted, teasing them. “You’ll see, Marianne. Once you are out, everything will fall into place. I’m sure of it.”
For her part, Marianne was not convinced. Love and marriage were the last things on her mind. She needed to establish herself first and start implementing her philanthropy plans.
But how can I do that,she thought, without money or connections? Marrying someone with both could be thequickest way to reach my goals. Catherine has said as much already.
Her eyes darted to Gideon. He was watching her intently.
Is that what Lavinia meant?Marianne gulped, panicking.Does she intend to pair me up with her brother?
Her gut roiled at the thought. They were cousins, for heaven’s sake. And not just cousins, but perfect strangers too. She was likely getting ahead of herself, imagining the worst. She opened her mouth to change the topic, except Anthony and Catherine chose that moment to re-enter with the maids.
“I hope we’re not interrupting anything important,” Catherine said, directing a maid to set the tea service between them.
“Not at all, Your Grace,” Lavinia replied, grinning at Marianne. “We were all just getting to know one another. And that’s what we should strive for, isn’t it? To become one big, happy family.”
Chapter 11
Like most things at Moorhaven Manor, the Manners’ visit was forgotten almost as soon as it was over. Life progressed at a breakneck speed in the run-up to the Hindborough hunting party. With only two days remaining until their journey to Hagram Park, Marianne had been kept on a strict schedule by Catherine and Miss Barclay.
They had spent the first day teaching her everything there was to know about the rules of socialization, proper topics of conversation, and the residential etiquette expected of guests attending a house party. Breakfast, luncheon, and dinner had felt like mock tests regarding cutlery, serving and pacing, and the correct order of courses. Despite a few hiccups, Marianne had passed every trial with flying colours.
Another dance lesson had been issued the following day, but Anthony and Patrick had been conveniently away in Norwich. Marianne had been left to dance with a begrudging Miss Barclay—and their partnership hadn’t been nearly as entertaining and surprising as Marianne’s partnership with Anthony.
In fact, outside of their meals, Marianne had barely seen the duke in the few days since Gideon and Lavinia’s visit. Catherine had said that Anthony seemed preoccupied. And Marianne, despite wanting to help, didn’t understand enough about his troubles to ask howshe could serve him.
Whatever the reason for Anthony’s isolation, he couldn’t avoid Marianne for much longer. They were supposed to be leaving for Hagram Park that same afternoon, and Marianne had been tasked with fetching the duke from his office by his mother.
She paused in the hallway to look at herself. The duchess had outdone herself that day when it came to dressing Marianne, having selected a travelling outfit from her own wardrobe. Catherine had ordered it for that summer, but the garments were going to waste while she was forced to wear her mourning clothes.
Despite their age differences, Catherine was similar in shape and height to Marianne. The ruby red spencer fit like a glove, sinching Marianne tightly at the waist—and enhancing herotherassets, too.
She supposed that was the point. It was important to make a good first impression on the Webb family and their friends—especially any friends of the gentlemanly variety.
“This is certainly one way to do it,” Marianne muttered, pulling down the jacket until she felt comfortable enough to knock on Anthony’s door.
Her hand paused in mid-air as raised voices sounded from inside the room. She debated eavesdropping, mostly concerned for Anthony’s welfare, not the least bit curious. A heavy footfallapproached the door, and Marianne ducked into the adjoining room, tingling with anxiety at the prospect of being caught eavesdropping.
Whoever had been inside stormed down the hallway, leaving too quickly for Marianne to get a proper look. When the stomping had mostly subsided, Marianne peered around the door. A tall and thin man in a neat coat turned towards the servants’ stairway and disappeared out of sight. Anthony exited his study a moment later, looking crestfallen from the visit.
Marianne frowned in response, worried about him. His problems were none of her business. But where Anthony was concerned, she couldn’t help wanting the best for him.
It’s only natural,she thought,after everything he has done for me.
“I’ve been asked to come and find you,” she declared, breaking the silence.
Anthony gasped, turning to her. “Hell and damnation, Marianne!” He recovered from his shock and then focused on locking the door. “What were you doing there?”
“Nothing, really. I simply …” She peered back inside the room. It seemed to be another parlour of some sort, hardly useful for any cover story. “To be honest, I heard you were inside withsomeone, and I thought I would wait until you were done. Her Grace asked me to come and find you.”
Anthony scowled, turning the key in the lock. It closed the office with a damning click, sealing whatever had happened between him and the stranger inside—out of Marianne’s reach.
