“Miss Conolly,” she said. “We met at the party on closing night of the ballet.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Anna said, curtseying politely. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
The Dowager Duchess smiled now, though Anna thought that the smile did not reach her eyes. She did not speak.
“You have a very beautiful home,” Anna observed, hoping to fill the uncomfortable silence.
“Thank you,” the Duke said. “My mother has excellent taste, as you can see.”
“Yes, indeed,” Anna said, turning to the Dowager Duchess, “You seem to have a natural talent for decorating, Your Grace.”
“I would not go so far as to say that,” the Dowager Duchess said.
“Her Grace is merely being modest,” the Duke said.
“No,” the Dowager Duchess said. “It is not modesty. My ability to decorate a beautiful home is not a matter of natural talent. It is a product of a lifetime of experience and education. Being a Duchess is no easy thing, though gentlemen do not realize it.”
The Duke was looking at his mother with a bemused expression on his face. He seemed confused, but Anna knew exactly what the Dowager Duchess was implying. She took a deep steadying breath and tried, desperately, to think of what to say to this.
“I suppose you are right about that, Mother,” the Duke said, “though we appreciate everything you Ladies do.”
“That is kind of you to say,” the Dowager Duchess replied, looking at her son. “I expect that you would be quite disappointed without someone to keep your home as comfortable as this.”
“I…expect not,” the Duke said, sounding more confused than ever.
“Your Grace,” Anna said, looking at the Dowager Duchess. “I should love to learn more about decorating a home. Perhaps you could teach me some of the basic principles?”
“Well, I suppose that I could teach you some of the principles,” the Dowager Duchess said. “But as I say, it has taken me a lifetime, and I had the finest education a young lady can receive. I doubt that I could teach you much at this stage.”
“Miss Conolly is an exceptionally clever young woman, I am sure that she would be a quick study,” the Duke said, sounding irritated with his mother now. Anna thought that he finally understood what the conversation was truly about, and she felt that a conflict was imminent.
Luckily, just then, the butler entered the drawing room and announced that dinner was being served. Anna was not sure that a change of venue would ease the tension, but she supposed that it could not hurt. If nothing else, their conversation was at least paused for a moment as they all stood up to walk to the dining room.
When they sat down at the table, two servants entered, one to serve them soup, and the other to pour wine. The conversation did not start again until the servants had finished.
“I understand that you have recently been to visit your mother, Miss Conolly,” the Dowager Duchess said.
“Yes,” Anna said, pleased to return to what she hoped would be a neutral topic of conversation. “She lives in the village of Wiltshire, where I grew up, and I had not been back to see her for quite some time.”
“And you used our carriage for the trip,” the Dowager Duchess said. It was not a question.
“Oh, well, yes,” Anna said quietly. “The Duke was kind enough to lend me the use of it. I am very grateful to him for it, because I would not have been able to make the trip otherwise.”
“My son is very generous, but that is exceptionally kind, even for him.”
“Mother,” Nathaniel said, with an edge to his voice now.
“Miss Conolly,” the Dowager Duchess said, ignoring her son’s warning, “Why do you think that my son would be so generous to you?”
“I suppose…” Anna said, “because he is a generous person, as you said.”
“Indeed? And you do not think that there could be any other possible reason for a gentleman in my son’s position to make such a generous offer to a beautiful young woman such as yourself?”
Anna looked at the Dowager Duchess for a moment, but soon looked away.
“Mother,” the Duke said, his voice firm once again. “I lent the use of our carriage because I am exceedingly fond of her, as you well know.”
“Well, of course you are. She is very pretty, after all. But I do not see why that means you should lend her your carriage, or invite her to dinner.”
Anna looked back and forth between the Duke and the Dowager Duchess who were staring at each other, locked in a battle of wills. She felt as though they might have forgotten she was even there.
“I have invited her to dinner so that you could meet my future wife,” the Duke exclaimed.
“Oh, do not be ridiculous,” his mother said back to him, her contempt clear in her voice. She turned then to look at Anna, who blushed but refused to look away.
“And I suppose that you will be able to live in luxury if you become my son’s mistress?”
“I have no interest in becoming your son’s mistress, Your Grace,” Anna said, her voice quiet but cold.
“Well, surely even you can understand that you cannot become his wife.”
“And why is that?” Anna asked, hoping that she sounded bolder than she felt.
“Why?” the Dowager Duchess asked, sounding shocked at the question. “Why should my son, the Duke of Yanborough, not marry a ballerina? You are a common girl from some unknown village. You perform on stage every evening with your legs uncovered. Gentlemen have been taking ballerinas for their mistresses for years, but for wives? Never.”
“Mother, you are being highly inappropriate. Miss Conolly has done nothing to offend you, and she does not deserve to be spoken to in this manner.”
“Would you rather that I lie to you both?” the Dowager Duchess asked, in a tone that made Anna feel as though she had been doused with ice cold water. “Ought I to say that I am so happy for you, and toast to the happy couple?”
“That would be lovely,” the Duke said, though he did not sound pleased.
“Well, then I am sorry to disappoint you,” the Dowager Duchess said, sounding as though she was not sorry at all. “But I will not lie. This idea of yours is nothing but utter foolishness. I will not pretend that I approve of it. I will not pretend that Miss Conolly is anything other than a common trollop, seeking to swindle you out of your fortune.”
Anna had been fighting back tears for several minutes now, but she knew that she would not be able to continue for much longer. She was sad to hear the Dowager Duchess say such hurtful things about her, but more than that, she was angry.
How dare she call me a trollop?
“Excuse me,” Anna said, quietly. She stood up from the table and walked out of the dining room as the Duke and his mother continued to stare angrily at one another.
She was through the door and into the foyer before she heard the Duke calling for her. Part of her yearned to go to him, but she knew now that this was impossible. The Dowager Duchess would never accept her as a daughter-in-law, and she would make their lives miserable if they did not respect her wishes.
She ran for the door and flung it open, running out before the Duke could catch her. The night air was freezing, and she had left her cloak behind, but she would not go back for it now. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she began to walk quickly, barely thinking of where she was going.
She knew that she must have looked a fright, shivering in the cold night air, and with tears staining her cheeks. She was unable, now, to control herself any longer, and she sobbed as she walked along the streets of London.
Even with her vision blurred with tears, and her head bowed down, she saw people staring at her as she passed, and she wanted nothing more than to hide herself away. For she knew, now, that she was an absurd, ridiculous fool.
How could she ever have believed that she and the Duke could be married? Such things simply were not done. The scandal that would result from such a union would worse, by far, than anything she could have imagined. The rea
ction of the Dowager Duchess had been proof enough of that. Anna knew that she could not subject herself, or the Duke, to a lifetime of such reactions, but the thought of giving him up hurt her all the same.
When finally she looked up, Anna saw that her feet had carried her to a familiar address, though her mind had not known where she was going. She gave a deep sigh of relief and walked up to the door.
Chapter 33
Nathaniel had never been more angry in his life. He could not believe the way that his mother had treated Miss Conolly. He had not expected her to be thrilled at the news of their engagement, but he would never have believed the horrible things she said if he had not heard her say them himself.
His priority now must be to find Miss Conolly. There would be time to chastise his mother later. He had entered the foyer just in time to see Miss Conolly running through the front door into the dark, cold night. She had forgotten her cloak, and must be freezing. Nathaniel had run out after her, but could not see which direction she had gone.
He returned inside to fetch her cloak, in case he should be able to find her, and decided to take the carriage for speed. His coachman knew the way to Miss Conolly’s boarding house by heart now, so he did not need to provide any instructions. Instead, he sat in the back with the curtains pulled open, looking out each window as they drove, searching for the woman he loved in the dark streets all around them.
When he arrived at the boarding house, Nathaniel knocked frantically on the front door, with no thought for the lateness of the hour. Mrs. Hughes opened the door and looked startled by his appearance there.
“Mrs. Hughes,” he said, hearing the note of panic in his own voice, “is Miss Conolly at home?”
“No,” Mrs. Hughes said, looking concerned and confused. “I thought that she was supposed to be having dinner at your townhouse, Your Grace.”
“Please, can you think of anywhere else she might have gone?”
“Is everything all right, Your Grace?” Mrs. Hughes asked. “You seem quite upset.”
Nathaniel quickly explained the situation to Mrs. Hughes, taking care to leave out some of the worst things that his mother had said. He knew that they were not true, and he was sure that Mrs. Hughes did as well, but he still wished to spare Miss Conolly the embarrassment of being called a “common trollop”.
“Oh, beg your pardon, Your Grace, but that was not right, for the Dowager Duchess to say such things.”
“No, it was not,” he agreed. “And that is why I must find Miss Conolly, and apologize to her straight away. Please, do you know where she is?”
“I suppose that she might have gone to visit her friend, Miss Rowley,” Mrs. Hughes offered.
Of course. I must go to Miss Rowley’s. Even if Miss Conolly is not there, Miss Rowley may know where she has gone.
Even in his heightened state of anxiety, Nathaniel knew that he could not call on Miss Rowley unannounced, late at night, and by himself. He would need to ask his friend, David, for help.
He nearly ran back to the carriage and quickly told the coachman to take him to David’s townhouse, hoping desperately that David would be at home tonight. The drive to his friend’s home was not terribly long, but it felt as though it was taking hours. Nathaniel grew more and more restless as the night went on. At this rate he was not likely to find Miss Conolly until close to midnight.
He finally experienced a stroke of luck when he found David at home when he arrived. David stared at him as he explained what had happened, a bemused grin on his face.
“You told your mother that you wish to marry a ballerina?” he asked, at the end of Nathaniel’s explanation.
“Of course I did. I can hardly get married and not tell her about it,” Nathaniel said, feeling that David was being rather obtuse.
“Then you really intend to do it?”
“Yes,” Nathaniel said, louder than he had intended. “Now, will you help me find her, please? I must go and speak to Miss Rowley. Miss Conolly may be there with her, and if not, she may know where she has gone.”
“All right,” David said, shaking his head in disbelief. “If that is what you wish.”
David summoned a servant and asked him to fetch his coat, hat and gloves. He also left a message for his wife saying that he was going out to the club and did not know when he would return.
“Though I doubt very much if she will care one way or the other,” he muttered to Nathaniel as they walked out to the carriage that was still waiting in front.
Nathaniel contemplated this. From what little he had observed of David’s marriage, he suspected that his friend was right, and his wife would not miss him in his absence. He supposed that was all right for them, if neither party minded, but it merely reaffirmed his belief that he wanted a different sort of married life for himself.
The ride from David’s house to Miss Rowley’s was a short one. Nathaniel spared a moment to wonder if David had planned it this way, and if so, whether he did not worry about his wife and his mistress running into one another. He did not ask about this, though, for thoughts of Miss Conolly soon drove all else from his mind.
When the carriage pulled up in front of Miss Rowley’s house, Nathaniel sprang out of it before the coachman had even opened the door. David did not move nearly so quickly, and Nathaniel waited impatiently on the sidewalk.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was, in reality, only a few seconds, they walked up to the front door and knocked. It was answered by a thin woman who seemed to recognize David and showed them in right away.
“Is Miss Rowley’s friend, Miss Conolly here?” Nathaniel asked the woman.
“Yes, Your Grace,” she said, curtseying rather awkwardly to him. “Please follow me.”
She showed the two gentlemen in to the sitting room. There, Nathaniel saw Miss Conolly, wrapped in a heavy blanket. She was sitting on the loveseat with Miss Rowley, crying onto her friend’s shoulder. The sight of her in tears felt like a knife to his heart, and he wanted nothing more than to go to her, to take her in his arms and comfort her.
Nathaniel was about to do this, but he hesitated for a moment, uncertain whether Miss Conolly would want to speak to him after the awful things his mother had said.
“Miss Conolly?” he said, as he approached her.
She looked up suddenly, surprised, and it seemed that she must not have heard the gentlemen enter the room.
* * *
Anna had arrived at Bridget’s house in tears, and had not even been able to explain herself to the landlady. The older woman had looked slightly alarmed at the sight of her, but had led her to the sitting room and fetched Bridget right away.
Bridget had led her to the loveseat, and then seeing that her friend was shivering, had wrapped her first in a blanket, and then in her arms. Through her sobs, Anna had managed to tell her most of what had happened at dinner with the Duke and the Dowager Duchess. Bridget had listened, and had been appalled at the things that the Dowager Duchess had said.
Anna had not stopped crying since she arrived, but eventually her body began to relax in her friend’s arms, and her sobs turned into quiet weeping. When she heard a masculine voice calling her name, it was as though the sound came to her from another world, calling her out of some kind of trance.
She looked up, blinking away her tears, but not bothering to wipe her face. Her shock at seeing the Duke of Yanborough in Bridget’s sitting room was eclipsed only by seeing that he was accompanied by another gentleman. This second gentleman looked vaguely familiar, and she thought that she must have met him after a performance, though she could not remember who he was.
“Your Grace?” she said, wondering if he was truly there, or just a figment of her imagination. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to find you,” he said, crossing the space between them in three long strides. He kneeled down in front of her and gazed into her eyes. “I went to the boarding house, and Mrs. Hughes said that you might be here, and I knew that I must find you and apolog
ize for the terrible things that my mother said to you at dinner. She had no right to speak to you that way.”
“She was only being honest, Your Grace.”
“No.” he said, firmly. “You know that you are not the things that she called you, you must know that.”
“I do,” Anna said, another tear rolling down her cheek. “But I also know that your mother will never be convinced of that. She believes that I am only interested in being your mistress and using your wealth, and nothing will change that belief.”
“But I do not care what she believes,” the Duke said. “What does it matter?”
“She is your mother,” Anna said simply. “Of course it matters. And she will not be the only one who refuses to accept me because of my profession, and my birth.”
The Art 0f Pleasuring A Duke (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 24
