Page 36 of Destined to be a Duchess
His muscles rippled beneath the surface of his skin as he worked the oars—looking more athletic than Marianne would have thought, considering he spent most of his free time in his studio, painting.
Her cheeks grew hot. She looked up at the sky, expecting to find the sun beating down on them. A thin veil of clouds hung overhead instead. The heat in her face had nothing to do with the weather. She suspected it had something to do with Anthony, like it had the night prior when he had leaned in close—closer than was proper, certainly.
She cleared her throat. The two of them could barely shut up when they were left alone. The awkward silence between them was unnerving, and Marianne looked for the first topic of conversation that came up.
“I saw you left this morning with Eliana,” she blurted out.
She immediately wished she hadn’t said anything, cursing herself with a muttered,“Good job, Marianne.” Anthony sucked in his cheeks, turning towards the lake, likely wondering whether it was too late to return to dry land.
“It was by no choice of my own. Lord Hindborough took me aside this morning in the middle of breakfast to talk about theacquisition of a new painting. When I left his office, Eliana was waiting for me.” He slowed his rowing, his shoulders moving methodically. “You seem to have found some other company, regardless.”
Marianne averted her eyes to her lap. “I hadn’t thought you would mind.”
“I never said that I did.”
“Well, it sounded as though …” She cut herself off, not wanting to accuse him of being upset with her or jealous, as though that were even possible. “Do you know something about Mr Crofter that I do not? Patrick seemed to like him.”
“The man is a complete stranger to me,” Anthony replied unemotionally. “I only think that you should be careful about who you choose to socialize with while you are here. Every interaction will be recorded and assessed by the other guests. If you show yourself to be too friendly with the wrong sort of gentleman, the consequences could be dire. I like Patrick, but he is not the best judge of character. He is not discerning enough.”
It sounded like a scolding and felt like one, too. Marianne bristled at the warning, crossing her arms over her chest. They rowed in silence for a while until they reached the middle of the lake.
Marianne glanced towards the bank, finding that the rest of the guests had become indiscernible silhouettes in the distance. She could hear conversation and laughter, but it was impossible to make out what anyone was saying. The same, she guessed, was true for her and Anthony.
She looked over the side of the boat, following the course of a water-skipper as it traveled northward toward the other side of the lake. Tall trees formed a natural partition between the Hindborough estate and the rest of the world.
Marianne closed her eyes, listening to the birdsong in the air, committing to memory the fresh, green smell emanating from the water. She focused on anything she could find to ignore her rising confusion over Anthony’s behavior.
But it was impossible to ignorehimforever in the flesh. Her eyes flashed open at the sound of the oars clattering into the boat. Anthony wiped his hands on his trousers, bringing his knees up and then propping his elbows atop them. He glanced forlornly over the surface of the water, his mind visibly whirring behind his serious, blue eyes.
“Are we stopping?” Marianne asked, her cheeks flaming.
“For a spell.” Anthony was even more striking in profile, his neck bobbing above the line of his cravat. “I’ve been searching for a moment of quiet since we arrived. That doesn’t mean that youshouldn’t talk if you want to.” His expression softened. “I am sorry if I sounded harsh. I have adopted my mother’s concern for you as my own. And frankly, I was in bitter mood after being run to earth by Eliana this morning.”
Marianne could barely contain her relief that he was speaking again, smiling at the sound of his voice. She contemplated him while he contemplated the lake, unable to look away even when she tried.
“Your distaste for Lady Eliana is confusing,” Marianne said. “When I first met Eliana, she said that you and she had been friends for many years—and that you were like family. At dinner last night, you looked to be getting along well.”
“Looks can be deceiving. I tolerate Eliana because our fathers were friends and because I am beholden to Warren in more ways than one. Among other things, it had been a lifelong dream of mine to study art on the Continent, and he made it possible.” He sighed, and his face flashed with something akin to pain. “It is part of my duty as the Duke of Westden to foster good relations with others—even if I may not like it.”
“Eliana seems to like you a great deal, and it doesn’t strike me as a purely political alliance on her end. I got the impression she had other things in mind for you than friendship. Was there never a time …”
Marianne winced. She wasn’t sure how much she should say. Something within her was screaming at her:Do not pursue the topic any further. Still, she continued.
“Your families were close, and you are of similar ages. She is beautiful and well-read, to say the least. I’m certain she must be incredibly popular with the gentlemen of theton.On paper, a marriage between you—” She choked on her own spit, cutting her off for good. “Forget I said anything,” she managed between coughs. “It is not my place to pry.”
“Has anything been off-limits between us so far?” Anthony laughed softly, returning his gaze to her. “Of course, there was talk of Eliana and I marrying one another.”
Marianne nodded, keeping her composure even when her head felt like it would explode from the news.
“That’s all it was, merely talk,” Anthony stressed. “I never wanted that for myself. I am obligated to marry one day, but so long as I live and breathe, it will not be to Eliana.”
“That’s good.” Marianne shook her head, correcting herself. “I only mean that I’m glad you are not allowing others to influence your decisions. If you do not get on well with Eliana, then no, of course, you should not marry her.”
“Yes, but I must bow somewhat to the pressures of others,” Anthony said through a doleful smile. “The woman I eventually marry … There is a list of requirements she must meet.” He frowned, looking as flustered as Marianne felt. “It sounds ludicrous, I realize. We are talking of a woman like she is a horse at the market.
The whole business is utterly dehumanizing to everyone involved, not least of all the wives. My feelings do not matter in the end. The fact remains that I cannot freely choose the person I will spend my life with.
She will need to have the correct education and the correct birth to please not only my own family but the Crown as well. Some lesser titles are allowed more freedom in regard to their marriages. As a duke, it will not be so for me. There are expectations beyond number about the match.”
