It was not a long journey, but Nathaniel longed to be back in his own bedroom, away from his mother. When they finally arrived at the townhouse, Nathaniel stepped out of the carriage and did not turn back to help his mother out.
She thinks that I am too fond of helping people, let us see what she thinks when I stop being helpful.
The Dowager Duchess followed her son into the house, but did not say anything when he failed to allow her through the door first. After handing their coats and gloves to the butler, they both walked through the entrance hall to the stairway. Nathaniel’s mother bid him goodnight, but he said nothing in return, simply walking up the stairs in silence.
It felt strange to walk away from his mother without a word, but Nathaniel felt a rush of excitement.
Why have I worried so much about her opinion for all of these years?
He could think of no reason why he should allow his mother to tell him what to do at the age of five-and-twenty.
Being at odds with his mother was not exactly a happy feeling, but it did feel as though he had put aside a great burden. This, in addition to his dance with Miss Conolly, made him feel that this had been a wonderful evening, indeed.
Chapter 18
Anna parted company with the Duke at the end of the evening, but found that she could not stop thinking of the gentleman. This was not her first experience of attraction, but it was unlike anything that she had felt in the past.
Growing up, she had been friendly with a boy named Billy who lived in the same street, who had grown quite unexpectedly into a handsome and strapping young man at the age of fifteen. Anna had been thirteen years old, and had suddenly become quite tongue-tied in his presence. Soon enough, he lost interest in his old friend and began to pay attention to some of the older girls.
When Billy had started his apprenticeship with the blacksmith, he had even less time to see his childhood friends, and Anna had not seen him for weeks at a time. While she had thought about him from time to time, and wondered how was keeping, Anna had ultimately been relieved at not seeing him more often.
She did not like the awkward feeling that overtook her in Billy’s presence, and as time went on, she realized that they had very little in common besides a similar address. Soon enough, she forgot about him almost entirely. In fact, as she sat in her hackney traveling the short distance to her boarding house, she realized that this was the first time she had thought of Billy in years. And she was only thinking of him in contrast to the Duke of Yanborough.
While her interactions with the Duke had brought up new feelings for Anna, she would not describe them as awkward. Perhaps it was because she was older now, but she felt excited, rather than frightened of her attraction to the Duke. She yearned to see him again, and wondered if he would make good on his promise to call upon her the next day.
Anna leaned back in the seat of the hackney and closed her eyes as she traveled through the darkened London streets. Her mind was filled with the memory of her dance with the Duke, the feeling of his hands upon her body, and the anticipation of even more intimate interactions with him.
She tried with all her might to recall every detail of the Duke’s face. The memory of each feature was coupled with a fantasy of what she would like to do with it. She thought of his lush, dark hair and imagined running her fingers through it as she pulled the Duke in close. She pictured his dark, mysterious eyes, and wished that she could stare into them for hours on end. When she recalled his full, smiling lips, she reveled in the thought of pressing her own lips against them.
Anna had been so lost in these scandalous thoughts, that she nearly forgot where she was, and was surprised when she felt the hackney come to a halt. Opening her eyes and looking around, she realized that she was back at her boarding house and quickly collected her bag and thanked the coachman as he helped her down.
Anna said a silent prayer of thanks for the clouds blocking the moonlight, for she hoped that it meant that the coachman could not see the flush of her cheeks. She took a deep, steadying breath, hoping that she would not appear flustered upon entering the house, just in case any of the other residents might see her.
As she stepped into the entryway, Anna saw a candle flickering in the parlor to her right, and heard a friendly voice say, “Good evening, Anna.”
Anna turned toward the parlor and saw her landlady, Mrs. Hughes, sitting there knitting by the light of the fire.
“Good evening, Mrs. Hughes,” she said, walking toward her. “I did not expect to find anyone awake at this late hour.”
“Oh, you know we keep strange hours here,” Mrs. Hughes said with a smile that indicated that she did not mind this arrangement at all.
“I do know that,” Anna said with a slight laugh at her foolish assumption. “But it seems that you are the only one still awake?”
“Yes, my dear,” Mrs. Hughes said, “unless you will come and keep me company for a bit? I have been having trouble sleeping recently.”
“I am sorry to hear that, Mrs. Hughes,” Anna said, feeling concerned for the older woman, who had always been so kind to her. “Is something bothering you?”
“Oh no, I suppose I just need less sleep as I get older,” Mrs. Hughes said, her tone matter of fact. “It was the same with my own mother, I remember.”
Anna wondered if her own mother spent many sleepless nights sitting by the fire. She had been eager to send Anna to London to join the ballet company, but had remained in the village of Wiltshire where Anna had grown up. The village was several hours away on horseback, and a day’s journey on foot, so they had not seen each other since Anna had come to London, over two years earlier.
They had never been particularly close, but Anna and her mother were the only family that each had, since her father had died when Anna was a baby. In fact, she did not even remember him, and her mother never spoke of him.
I must write to Mother more often, once a month is not nearly enough.
Pushing aside thoughts of her own mother, Anna walked through the parlor door and sat down opposite Mrs. Hughes, in a chair next to the fireplace. The glow of the fire warmed her considerably, and Anna suddenly realized how cold she had been before entering the room.
“You look like you’ve had a lovely evening,” Mrs. Hughes said. Anna thought that she saw a knowing smile on her landlady’s face, but perhaps she was only imagining things.
“Yes, the party was quite a success,” Anna said. “I think that Mr. Bamber was pleased with it, and hopefully we have generated some interest amongst our patrons for our next production.”
“Well, I suppose that is a success then,” Mrs. Hughes said, “but I was referring to you, specifically. Did you enjoy the party, Anna?”
“Oh,” Anna said, feeling uncertain of how best to answer this question. She had enjoyed the party quite thoroughly, but did not know what to make of the Duke’s apparent interest in her, nor of her feelings for him.
Anna knew that it was probably wisest not to speak of the Duke of Yanborough with anyone at this point. On the other hand, if he were to call upon her the following day, then Mrs. Hughes would know all about it in just a few hours. No doubt she would act as their chaperone—Mrs. Hughes was happy to have artists of all kinds staying in her boarding house, but she was careful about the reputation of the establishment. She did not allow her tenants to have unchaperoned visits with gentlemen callers.
“Well,” Anna said, feeling that she might as well trust Mrs. Hughes with the information. “I enjoyed the party quite a lot. Rather more than I expected to, if I’m being quite honest.”
“I am quite glad to hear that,” Mrs. Hughes said, smiling at Anna as she continued to knit. The clicking sound of her needles as she worked was oddly soothing.
“I danced with a most intriguing gentleman,” Anna said, somewhat tentatively.
“Oh?” Mrs. Hughes raised her eyebrows slightly as she asked this, but otherwise showed no sign of a reaction. She looked down at her knitting, counting her stitches with her fingers.
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“The Duke of Yanborough,” Anna said, feeling that she might as well be honest about the situation. “He mentioned that he might like to call upon me tomorrow, though I doubt that he will actually come.”
“And why do you doubt that?” Mrs. Hughes asked, as though it were the most natural thing in the world for a Duke to call upon a ballerina in her boarding house.
“Oh…” Anna said, “I don’t know. I suppose it’s possible that he will call, after all. But he may be quite busy—he is a Duke, and I’m sure that he has better things to do than to call upon a ballerina he has just met.”
“He might,” Mrs. Hughes said, sounding unconcerned, “but I doubt if anyone, regardless of his station, could soon forget about you, my dear.”
“What do you mean?” Anna asked.
Mrs. Hughes stopped her knitting and gave Anna a searching look, “Well, surely, you must know that you are quite lovely,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument.
Anna did know that she was quite lovely, but she also knew that it would not do to agree about this. As a child she had thought herself ugly when the other girls had teased her for her ginger hair. Then she had learned to love her ginger hair, and the other girls had teased her for being vain. She had learned not to let others, and particularly other women, know that she liked the way that she looked.
Mrs. Hughes seemed to understand all of this, being quite wise about the ways of women. She gave Anna a rather knowing smile and continued. “Perhaps you are too modest to realize it, but you are, in fact, quite pretty. And because you are quite pretty, I am very confident that this Duke will not forget to call upon you.”
Anna was inclined to agree with Mrs. Hughes on this point. She felt confident that the Duke had been genuine in his interest in her. In her experience, gentlemen who expressed such interest did not tend to forget it quickly, even when she tried to discourage them.
However, she knew that if the Duke did not call upon her tomorrow, she would be terribly disappointed. She had never wished for someone to pursue her in this way, and felt entirely uncertain of what to do with those feelings.
Perhaps if I can convince myself that he will not come, I will be less disappointed if this turns out to be true.
“You are too kind, Mrs. Hughes,” Anna said, with what she hoped was a modest smile. “Still, I cannot be certain that the Duke of Yanborough will make good on his promise to call tomorrow. Perhaps I ought not to have mentioned it.”
“Well, I am glad that you did mention it, in case he does come to call. Otherwise I would open the door tomorrow and be quite shocked,” Mrs. Hughes said, chuckling to herself. “But what do you wish to happen? Do you want the Duke to call?”
Anna sighed deeply at this question.
Do I want him to call? I am desperate to see him once again, but what can I truly hope for between us?
“To be perfectly honest,” she said, trying, unsuccessfully to hide a quaver in her voice, “I do not know, Mrs. Hughes.”
Mrs. Hughes sighed as well, though not as deeply as Anna had done. “I suppose that I can understand that.”
“You can?” Anna asked, sounding surprised.
“It can be quite complicated to navigate one’s feelings, in my experience. When I first met my husband, Thomas, I was drawn to him, but I was also scared. I had never felt that way before and I had no idea what to make of it.”
“But you married him, in the end.”
“I did.”
“But I can hardly expect to marry the Duke,” Anna said, surprised that Mrs. Hughes seemed not to understand this.
“Do you wish to marry the Duke?”
“I…” Anna said, not knowing how to answer this question, and feeling that it was entirely beside the point. “I don’t know. I’ve only just met him. But even if I wanted to, Dukes do not marry ballerinas.”
“I was under the impressions that Dukes do whatever they like,” Mrs. Hughes said, with a chuckle.
“I suppose that some do,” Anna said, laughing along with her landlady, “but this Duke has a rather formidable mother, and she will never approve of such a union.”
“Ah, well, that does complicate matters, I suppose. But it seems to me that he ought to be worrying about his mother, and not you.”
“I suppose,” Anna said, still feeling skeptical about this point. “Still, marrying me would cause quite a scandal for him. Most gentlemen who pursue ballerinas are seeking mistresses, not wives.”
“Hmm…” Mrs. Hughes said, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips.
“And I have absolutely no interest in being an aristocrat’s mistress,” Anna added hastily. She wished to leave Mrs. Hughes in absolutely no doubt as to this fact.
“That is quite wise of you,” Mrs. Hughes said, smiling fondly at her. “You are a good girl, Anna, and it would be most unwise to risk your reputation.”
“Yes, I know, Mrs. Hughes,” Anna reassured her. “I told him that I would not be his mistress, and he said that he did not wish for me to be, but how can I be certain if he is telling the truth about that?”
“I suppose that we shall have to see if he calls upon you tomorrow,” Mrs. Hughes said, simply. “If he does not, then the question does not bear considering, and if he does, then you will have to get to know him better and determine whether you think him an honest sort of gentleman.”
Anna nodded at this, thinking that Mrs. Hughes was probably right. She wondered though, how it would be possible to determine whether he was an honest sort of person in one conversation.
Chapter 19
Nathaniel woke the following morning, feeling happier than he had done in several weeks. He had dreamed of dancing with Miss Conolly, but this time with no one else present to observe them. The details of his dream slipped out of his memory, like water running through his fingers, but the feeling remained.
In his dream, he had felt the warmth of her body pressed against his own, and that warmth stayed with him now, erasing the unpleasant memories of the rest of the evening. The fight with his mother had been upsetting at the time, but now he felt a sense of lightness that could not be shaken.
Nathaniel could hardly bear the thought that it would be several hours before he could see the intriguing Miss Conolly again. He wanted nothing more than to jump out of bed, dress as quickly as possible, and set off for her boarding house immediately.
He knew that to do so would be unwise, as arriving at a young woman’s home before noon, regardless of her station, would be quite improper. Strangely, Nathaniel’s resolve to see Miss Conolly in spite of his mother’s disapproval seemed to make the thought of waiting more palatable.
Ordinarily, Nathaniel worked hard to ensure that he did not offend or upset his mother. He understood that she had always had his best interest at heart, even when they disagreed. This approach was meant to make his home life more pleasant and manageable, but had in fact had quite the opposite effect.
Nathaniel spent much of his time worrying about what the Dowager Duchess would think of his every word and action. He often held back from speaking his mind in the interest of keeping the peace with his mother. This prevented conflict, but also meant that Nathaniel often approached meals and other interactions with intense feelings of anxiety.
Now, he was determined to follow his own desires, even if it meant risking an argument with his mother, and he felt strangely at peace. Wondering how long this pleasant feeling might last, Nathaniel decided that he might as well get up and see what the day would bring. He rang the bell to summon his valet, stood up, and raised his arms over his head to stretch.
A moment later, there was a knock at the door and Nathaniel told the visitor to enter.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” said Nathaniel’s valet, greeting his employer with a friendly smile.
“Good morning, Perkins,” Nathanial said, smiling back at him. “I shall be calling upon a friend later today, but first I suppose I must join my mother for breakfast.”
“Of course, Your
Grace,” Perkins said, as he walked over to the wardrobe and began to remove various articles of clothing. “You seem to be in a very good mood, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
Nathaniel did not mind at all. Perkins had been his valet for several years now, and they had always had a very friendly rapport. Perkins was responsible for Nathaniel’s clothing and personal quarters, but over the years they had spent a great deal of time together, and Perkins had sometimes acted as Nathaniel’s confidante.
“I suppose that I am in a good mood,” Nathaniel agreed, grinning. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the looking glass and thought his expression was like that of a schoolboy, rather than a Duke, but decided that he did not care.
“I take it you enjoyed the party last night, Your Grace?” Perkins asked. His tone suggested that he was imagining a very sordid night, indeed.
The Art 0f Pleasuring A Duke (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 14
