“But I do not care what any of them think,” he responded. “David will still be my friend, I am sure.”
He gestured to the other gentleman who had entered the room, and Anna looked at him once again. She had been distracted by her interactions with the Duke, but now wondered again who he was, and why he was here. She looked confusedly from the Duke to the gentleman he called David, and to Bridget, who seemed be avoiding looking her in the eye.
“I do not wish to be rude,” Anna said, “but who is this gentleman, and why is he here?”
“My apologies,” the Duke said. “This is my friend, David, Marquess of Swinton. I thought that it would be most improper to show up at your friend’s house unannounced, and late at night. I did not wish to frighten her, so I thought it best to bring Lord Swinton with me.”
“But why…?” Anna asked, looking confusedly from Lord Swinton to Bridget and back again. Comprehension was beginning to dawn on her, but she could hardly believe it.
“Anna,” Bridget said, looking slightly desperate. “Please, you must understand.”
“Understand what?” she asked. “Please, explain it to me, Bridget.”
“I love David, and he loves me, can you understand that?”
Of course, I can understand that.
“I can,” Anna said, “but what is your arrangement with Lord Swinton? Are you his mistress?”
“Yes,” Bridget said, her eyes cast down. “He was already married when we met. Perhaps if he had not been, things might have been different. But we are making the best of the situation, and we are happy. He has bought me this house.”
Anna’s eyes flickered to Lord Swinton at these words, and she thought that he looked rather uncomfortable. She felt sure that it would never have occurred to him to marry Bridget, even if he had been unmarried when they met. She wondered whether Bridget truly believed what she was saying.
“Oh, Bridget, why did you never tell me about this? We are supposed to be friends, are we not?”
“We are,” Bridget said, and Anna saw tears in her eyes. “We are friends, Anna. And I am sorry that I never told you about this. I only worried that you would think badly of me.”
“It is not a matter of what I think,” Anna said. “The Dowager Duchess thinks that all ballerinas are seeking arrangements such as these. It is no wonder that she thinks I am doing the same thing. Am I the only one of us who is not?”
“Anna, that is not fair.” Bridget said. “I do not know if you are the only one who will not consent to be a wealthy gentleman’s mistress. I can only speak for myself, and I cannot control what the Dowager Duchess of Yanborough thinks of you.”
Anna knew that her friend was right on the last point at least, but she was still reeling from everything that had happened that night. She could not bring herself to admit this point. And the fact remained that her best friend had hidden this from her. She felt like an utter fool for not seeing it sooner.
How could I ever have believed that this was a boarding house?
“Miss Conolly,” the Duke said, quietly. “Perhaps I ought to take you home, so that you can clear your head.”
“No, Your Grace,” she said. Her heart was racing but she forced herself to use a calm, firm voice when she spoke. “Thank you for bringing me my cloak, but I shall walk home. Alone.”
“But, Miss Conolly,” he said, sounding rather desperate.
“I think it will be best if we part company now, Your Grace, and do not see one another again.”
Anna could feel her heart breaking as she spoke these words, and a cold sensation spread outward from that organ. It was as though her whole body was turning to ice, and she knew that she must make her manner equally frigid. She knew that if she allowed any emotion to touch her now, she would begin to sob, and would fall into the Duke’s arms, and would even consent to be his mistress if she could not be his wife.
“Please, Miss Conolly, do not say such a thing,” the Duke pleaded. “Please do not allow my mother to tear us apart. I love you, and I do not see why anything else should matter.”
“I know you do not, but other things do matter, Your Grace,” Anna said, focusing on the cold sensation in her chest to keep from crying. “Goodbye.”
She stood up, took her cloak from his arms, and walked out of the sitting room. She did not look back at Bridget, nor did she bid her farewell, as she walked out to the foyer and then out of the front door.
Chapter 34
There was one more week before Anna was scheduled to begin rehearsals for the next production. She knew that she must not let herself fall into despair, and forced herself to get out of bed each day. She made herself help Mrs. Hughes in the kitchen, or write to her mother, or mend her torn stockings, but she took no pleasure in those pursuits.
If she had been a highborn lady, she might have kept to her bed, but she knew that she could not do such a thing. The future Duchess of Yanborough might be prone to fainting spells and long fatigues, but the prima ballerina must not be.
Mrs. Hughes was obviously worried about her, and Anna appreciated her concern, but she wished that the landlady would not pester her so much.
“Now, Anna, it is a lovely day, why don’t you go for a walk in the park with your friend, Miss Rowley?” Mrs. Hughes had asked, for three days in a row.
Each day, Anna had said that she did not feel like going for a walk. On the third day, she was so frustrated that she snapped these words at Mrs. Hughes rather fiercely. The landlady looked taken aback by her tone, but said no more.
“I am sorry, Mrs. Hughes,” Anna said, sighing heavily. She knew that she ought not have snapped at her, but ever since parting company with the Duke she had been sad, angry, and listless by turns. It had been so difficult for her just to get herself out of bed and into the kitchen, she did not have the strength to be patient as well. But none of this was Mrs. Hughes’s fault.
“That’s quite all right,” Mrs. Hughes said. “I’ve heard much worse in my day. But I do worry about you. I wish that you would speak to Miss Rowley, at least.”
Mrs. Hughes knew that the dinner with the Duke and Dowager Duchess had not gone well, and that Anna now refused to see him. Anna had not shared the details of what was said at the dinner, but she had told Mrs. Hughes more or less what had happened.
She also knew that Anna was no longer speaking to Bridget, for Bridget had come to call on her the day after the dinner, but Anna had refused to see her. Mrs. Hughes had sent Bridget away, but when she asked Anna why she would not see her best friend, Anna had simply said that she did not feel like having company.
The Duke had also tried to call upon her twice, and Mrs. Hughes had sent him away as well.
“Do you really think it fair to punish him for the things that his mother said to you?” Mrs. Hughes had asked after sending him away the first time.
“It is not a matter of punishing him,” Anna had replied, a dullness in her voice that had never been there previously. “It is simply a matter of practicality. We cannot be married. I understand that now, but he does not. No good can come of us spending time together.”
She had meant every word she said, but it pained her to say them, nevertheless. The coldness that had radiated out from her broken heart when she said goodbye to the Duke had remained with her ever since, and it spread even further each time she had to send him away.
On the third day of that week, the Duke did not come to call, but sent her a letter. Anna considered throwing the letter into the fire, unopened. She was sure that doing so would be the smartest course, but she could not help herself. She brought the letter to her bedroom, broke the seal, and read it.
Dear Miss Conolly,
I have been in agony since we parted at Miss Rowley’s house three days ago. Before I met you, I thought that I was happy. Or, perhaps not happy, but content enough with my life. Now I see that I knew nothing of happiness. I could not even conceive of that emotion until I experienced it with you.
It is my greatest desir
e in life that you should experience true happiness as well. I had hoped that I might be the person to cause you that joy, and if there is any hope of that, then I beg of you to let me try once more.
However, I understand that you were hurt and angered by my mother’s words at dinner. I am hurt and angered by them as well, and I have not spoken a word to her since that day. I can only hope and pray that you will not blame me for her actions.
If there is any chance for us, I beg of you to reply to this letter and tell me. If you do not wish to see me again, I will respect your wishes and not call upon you again, though it will break my heart.
Whatever the outcome may be, please know that I love you, with all my heart, Miss Conolly, and I always will.
Yours, Always,
Nathaniel
As she sat on her bed, reading the letter, Anna felt a stinging sensation in the corners of her eyes. Tears were welling up there, and soon they began to roll down her cheeks. The use of his Christian name suggested a level of intimacy that she longed to share with him, but knew that she could not. Within minutes she was sobbing once again, just as she had when she left the Duke’s townhouse.
For the remainder of her time off, Anna allowed herself to reread the letter once each evening, before crying herself to sleep. The remainder of each day, she hardened her heart and resolved to let no emotion show on her face, in her words, or in her actions.
Anna was eager for rehearsals to begin again the following week. It was her hope that being busy would distract her from thoughts of the Duke. Of course, it would also mean seeing Bridget again. Anna felt badly about the things she had said to Bridget when they parted, but the fact remained that her best friend had lied to her.
Perhaps once they were spending time together each day again, they would be able to work through their differences. Anna could not approve of Bridget’s arrangement with the Marquess of Swinton, but perhaps she ought to overlook it for Bridget’s sake.
* * *
Nathaniel had never known greater agony than being parted from Miss Conolly. He had suffered his fair share of injuries, as most men do, and the emotional pain of his father’s death, but nothing in his life had prepared him for the profound sense of loss that he was now experiencing.
He had not spoken a word to his mother since Miss Conolly had left their dinner together. The Dowager Duchess had tried to make conversation over their meals each day, as though nothing had happened, and Nathaniel stared at her in stony silence each time.
He felt anger bubbling up inside of his stomach, each time he looked at her. It was hot and acidic, and it radiated out through his entire body until he thought he might burst into flames.
After two days of this, he knew that he could not stand it any longer. Mrs. Hughes had sent him away each day, insisting that Miss Conolly did not wish to see him. Then he had come home and found his mother determinedly pretending nothing was wrong.
Perhaps a change of scenery is what I need.
Nathaniel asked one of the servants to tell his mother that he would be staying at the club, and did not know when he would return. She was not to contact him there under any circumstances. Then he spoke to the butler, and asked that all of his correspondence be forwarded to him at the club.
Finally, he sat down in the library and wrote a letter to Miss Conolly, explaining how he felt about her, and apologizing for his mother’s behavior. He instructed a servant to deliver it to her boarding house the following morning and then set out for the club.
He had not arranged to meet David there, but was not surprised to find that his friend was also staying at the club that evening. It seemed that David spent more evenings there than at home.
“Have you spoken to Miss Conolly?” David asked, as they sipped brandy by the fireplace.
“No,” Nathaniel said, “she refuses to see me. I have tried to call on her twice and have been turned away by her landlady.”
“Ah well, perhaps it is for the best,” David said with a sigh.
“For the best?” Nathaniel asked, wondering how his friend could possibly think such a thing.
“Well, Miss Conolly is quite lovely, and I’m sure that she is very charming,” David said, “but there are plenty of lovely, charming young ladies out there. You could marry any one of them and avoid a scandal.”
“I love Miss Conolly,” Nathaniel said simply.
“And I love Miss Rowley,” David said. “And I know many gentlemen who love their mistresses and are quite happy for it.”
“Well, if you are truly happy with that arrangement, then I cannot judge you for it, but I am certain that it would not make me happy,” Nathaniel said, a slight edge to his voice now. “And besides, Miss Conolly would never consent to be my mistress, she has been perfectly clear on that point from our first meeting. And I believe that is why I fell in love with her so easily.”
“Well,” David said with a sigh. “I cannot see how you can possibly find happiness with Miss Conolly then, but I wish you the best of luck.”
Nathaniel silently agreed with his friend that his prospects with Miss Conolly seemed bleak. He said nothing, and simply gazed into the merrily burning fire, and continued to sip his brandy.
Chapter 35
On the first day of rehearsals for the new production, Anna arrived at the theater five minutes early. In the past she had usually arrived earlier than that, to stretch her muscles. Today she was hoping to avoid spending more time with Bridget than was strictly necessary.
She need not have worried on that score, as Bridget did not arrive until a few minutes later, just as rehearsal was about to begin. She smiled tentatively at Anna as she entered the rehearsal room, and Anna gave her a very slight nod of acknowledgement, but said nothing.
There was no time to focus on Bridget, nor to worry about what Camila and Elen might be saying about her behind her back, for the rehearsal began just a moment later. As it was the first rehearsal, they were merely working through the blocking for the new production.
Anna was called to the front of the group three separate times to demonstrate a particular piece of choreography, and each time she ignored the scowls she received from some of the company members. She was pleased to see that Bridget was not scowling with the rest of them, in spite of their current dispute.
When rehearsal came to a close, Bridget approached Anna and asked if they could speak for a moment.
“I suppose so,” Anna said, feeling that she might as well be cordial to her former friend.
“I am sorry that I did not tell you about my arrangement with Lord Swinton,” Anna said when they were alone in the corner of the dressing room.
“Thank you,” Anna said, for she appreciated this sentiment, but she could not bring herself to say that she forgave Bridget.
“I suppose that I did not tell you because I knew that you would not approve,” Bridget continued. “And I do not wish to end my relationship with him.”
Anna stared at Bridget for a moment, not knowing what she ought to say to this. She could not approve of such a relationship, as Bridget so clearly wanted.
She was spared the necessity of coming up with a response to this, because another ballerina approached them then. She said that Mr. Bamber wished to speak with Anna in his office, right away.
“Go,” Bridget said. She smiled, but her eyes still looked sad, “We will speak again tomorrow.”
“All right,” she said, turning to walk out of the changing room and across the hall to Mr. Bamber’s office.
Mr. Bamber was sitting at his large oak desk, which was covered in piles of papers, and he gestured to indicate that Anna should sit down in the chair in front of the desk.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Bamber,” Anna said, feeling a bit nervous.
“Good afternoon, Miss Conolly,” he said, smiling at her. “I expect that you are wondering why I have asked you here.”
“Well…yes, I must admit that I am.”
“Are you quite all right? It seems as though s
omething is bothering you, and I wish to know if there is something that I can do to help.”
Anna was not sure whether she ought to be upset that her emotions were showing enough for Mr. Bamber to notice, or relieved that she did not seem to be in trouble. She considered what she ought to say for a moment, and then decided that she could trust Mr. Bamber, who had always been kind to her.
Leaving out some of the most sordid details, she told him about her broken engagement with the Duke of Yanborough. She fought hard to keep her voice calm, and her tears at bay as she spoke, but heard her voice falter when she spoke of her falling out with Bridget. She did not say why they had quarreled, only that Bridget had kept a secret from her.
The Art 0f Pleasuring A Duke (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 25
