Anna knew that Bridget would have given anything to be the prima ballerina, just as any of the girls in the company would. Anna herself, would have given almost anything to have Bridget’s confidence and self-possession. She had watched Bridget interact with patrons for nearly two years, and admired her ease with these wealthy gentlemen.
Bridget had a way of rejecting the advances of gentlemen seeking mistresses without hurting their feelings. Anna worked hard to accomplish the same goal. She was usually successful, but she wished that she could do it with the same ease and grace as her friend.
“Did you see,” Bridget said, recalling Anna from her own wandering thoughts, “that Camilla is talking to the Viscount of Essex again?”
“Hmm?” Anna asked. She had noticed nothing of the sort, and had no idea why it would be a subject of conversation if she had.
“Camilla Grafton. Talking to the Viscount of Essex. She has been talking to him all night,” Bridget said, sounding exasperated. “He was here just last week and it was quite the same. They ought to at least be discreet about it.”
“Oh, of course,” Anna said. She was too focused on her own interactions with the patrons in the parlor to notice such things, but trusted Bridget to pay attention to them, and to report on them accurately. And if what Bridget said was true, then Anna agreed that Camilla ought to be more discreet.
It was an open secret that many members of the ton had mistresses amongst the members of the ballet company, but it was unwise to flaunt such attachments. The gentlemen involved might experience a moment of scandal, but ultimately would be unharmed by such a revelation. The ballerinas, on the other hand, were likely to lose their position if discovered by the ladies of the ton.
Chapter 2
Nathaniel Hawkins, the Duke of Yanborough, sat in the small library of his family’s London townhouse. He had newly come into his peerage and was struggling to keep pace with his colleagues in Parliament. Most of them were gentlemen he had known growing up, either as friends of his father, or the fathers of his schoolmates.
His father’s political allies and rivals alike had offered Nathaniel condolences on the death of his father when he had first arrived in the House of Lords a week ago. However, within moments, the other peers were talking to one another about a variety of issues, most of which were completely unfamiliar to Nathaniel.
The gentlemen formed small clusters throughout the room, based on what, Nathaniel could not say. Not knowing which group he ought to join, Nathaniel had floated about the chamber, joining none of them. He had been relieved when the assembly was called to order, all the more so because he knew that he would not need to speak on any issue so early in his tenure. He also knew that there would be no votes taken that day, so there was no chance of casting a vote which he would later regret.
However, Nathaniel knew that he could not avoid those duties indefinitely, and the mere thought of eventually speaking on complex policy issues made him feel woefully underprepared. He had been spending several hours each day in the library reading up on a variety of subjects in order to correct that lack.
Nathaniel was reading through some of his father’s old letters from his colleagues, discussing a particularly dry piece of legislation, when he heard a knock at the library door. Thankful for a reason to give up on the exceptionally dull letter in his hand, he called, “Come in.”
“Hello, Nathaniel,” his mother said.
The Dowager Duchess was a small, severe looking person, and the furrow between her eyes seemed to have become permanent since the recent death of her husband. Her face had always been stern looking, but Nathaniel knew this visage to hide a warm and nurturing spirit. He smiled at his mother as she entered the room.
“What are you learning about today, Nathaniel?” she asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“Well, right now I am just reading through some of father’s old letters about military funding.”
“That sounds dreadfully dull,” she said, with all of her signature bluntness. Still, Nathaniel could not help but laugh at her words.
“Well, I cannot argue with your assessment, Mother,” he said, tossing the letter aside onto the mahogany table next to him. He ran his fingers through his dark, wavy hair, and let out a deep sigh. Nathaniel stretched his long arms and legs, adjusting his broad frame in the chair.
“Perhaps you ought to take a break from all of this…research?” she said, her tone softer now.
“Perhaps…” Nathaniel said, uncertainly, “but I really ought to know more about the issues being discussed in the Lords. How can I be of any use if I am not well-informed?”
“Of course, you need to be well-informed,” his mother replied in the same soft, soothing tone.
The Dowager Duchess crossed the room and sat down in the armchair closest to Nathaniel’s. Turning to him, she took his hands in hers and looked him squarely in the eye.
“But, Nathaniel, you are well-informed. You were born to do this, and your father and I sent you to the finest schools to ensure that you would know everything that you needed when you took up your peerage. Surely, you are just as qualified as anyone else in the House of Lords.”
Nathaniel offered his mother a weak smile. He knew that she meant well, and was trying to reassure him, but her words only made him feel more inadequate. She was right, he had been born to this role. He had received the finest education that money could buy.
And yet, in spite of all of that preparation, I still feel unprepared to take up my father’s work. What is wrong with me?
Though he said nothing, his mother seemed to know what Nathaniel was thinking, for she said, “You know, your father felt the same way when he entered Parliament.”
“What do you mean?” Nathaniel was taken aback by this revelation, for he had always thought of his father as all-knowing, his confidence unshakable.
“Well, his father did what he could to teach him what he would need to know. And, of course, your father attended the same fine schools that you did. He was as prepared for his peerage as it was possible to be.”
Nathaniel looked at his mother searchingly, wondering how this was supposed to help him. He was about to ask her what she meant, but it seemed that she had only paused for dramatic effect.
“In spite of all of that,” she continued, “he felt overwhelmed when he first entered Parliament. He even went so far as to suggest, only to me, and of course only in private, that the House of Commons ought to be the upper chamber, since the members were elected, and therefore more qualified than the Lords.”
The Dowager Duchess laughed aloud at the mere suggestion, and Nathaniel looked at his mother, bemused. He could never imagine his father thinking such a thing, much less saying it aloud.
What an absurd notion.
“Surely you must be jesting, Mother.”
“Oh no,” his Mother said, although she continued to laugh slightly. “He would never have admitted it to anyone else, but your father told me many years later that the idea had crossed his mind. He wondered what could be wrong with him, to have felt so unprepared in spite of his education and upbringing.”
“He always seemed so sure of himself, and his abilities,” Nathaniel said. He remembered his father as a stoic figure, decisive, and sure of his own rightness at all times. Nathaniel had loved him, as all good sons ought to do, but he thought that perhaps he would have felt more comfortable in his father’s presence if he had known about the older man’s insecurities.
“Yes, he was,” Nathaniel’s mother said, “but not always. His first year in Parliament was a trial for him. He would not tell me much about it at the time, but I could see that he felt anxious and unsure of himself. Many years later he confessed to me that he had thought himself a bit of a fraud that first year.”
Nathaniel nodded to his mother, feeling that he could relate very much to that feeling.
“In time, though, he became more confident,” she continued. “He got to know his colleagues and formed political alliances,
as well as friendships. He learned more about the inner workings of politics and government by being present in Parliament than he ever could have done at school, and you will, too.”
Nathaniel breathed a sigh of relief. He was not sure whether he would ever be as confident and competent as his father had been, but he was beginning to see a glimmer of hope. The thought crossed his mind that his mother might be making this story up to comfort him, but he quickly dismissed it. She was kind, but if anything, she was prone to understatement, not overstatement.
“Thank you, Mother,” Nathaniel said, smiling broadly at her now.
“You are quite welcome. And, of course, you have an advantage over your father in this regard.”
“How so?” Nathaniel asked, genuinely confused by this assessment of the situation.
“Your father was already married when he took up his peerage. Everyone knows that the best way to shore up a political alliance is with a marriage.”
“I see,” Nathaniel said, with no trace of enthusiasm in his voice. At only five-and-twenty, he had hoped to put off discussions of marriage for a few more years. He knew that it was foolish, but Nathaniel harbored a secret hope of marrying for love, rather than political convenience.
“You must get to know your colleagues in Parliament. Surely some of them have unwed daughters or sisters, or perhaps wards for whom they would prefer not to be responsible for any longer.”
“Yes, I suppose they might,” Nathaniel said, trying to keep his tone casual. He knew that in the end he would likely be compelled to marry a suitable young lady for just such reasons as these, but he did not relish the idea. For the time being, however, he did not wish to argue with his mother about it, nor did he want her to think him particularly enthusiastic about the idea.
“Well, in any case, you would do well to get to know your colleagues a bit more before making any sort of decision.”
“I quite agree,” Nathaniel said, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.
“On another subject, would you like to escort me to the ballet this evening?” the Dowager Duchess asked.
Nathaniel had never been to the ballet with his mother, but he knew that she loved it. In truth, he was not particularly interested in the idea, but seeing the look on his mother’s face, he felt that he could not say no to her. No doubt she was missing the company of her husband who used to accompany her regularly.
“All right, Mother. That sounds lovely,” Nathaniel said. Although he was not excited about the ballet itself, he thought that it would be good for him to get out of the house after a long afternoon of fruitless research.
“You are so good to me, Nathaniel,” his mother said, sounding genuinely moved by this simple gesture. “Thank you.”
“You are quite welcome, Mother,” Nathaniel said, somewhat taken aback by her reaction. “I am looking forward to it.”
The Dowager Duchess smiled at her son, ruefully, “Now Nathaniel, I know you too well to believe that, but I do appreciate it all the same. And I must say, I know that you are not, in fact, looking forward to the ballet, but I rather think that you will enjoy it all the same.”
Michael chuckled at this, and smiling, he replied, “Well, I do hope that you are right.”
“I shall leave you to your reading,” his Mother said, standing up to leave, “but I am looking forward to tonight. We will leave at eight o’clock. Do try not to worry too much before then.”
Once his mother had left the library, Nathaniel picked up the letter he had been reading earlier. He tried again to make sense of it, but soon put it aside. Reflecting on what his mother had told him about his father, Nathaniel felt a sense of relief.
The problem was not that he could not understand the letters his father had exchanged with his colleagues. In fact, he could understand them perfectly well. What he needed, was to learn the context in which such letters became important.
His schools and his father had taught him the rules of Parliamentary debate and procedure. He was familiar with the history of the British empire, and its politics. The rest of what he needed to know, he would have to learn through experiencing it.
Nathaniel thought that perhaps he would meet some of his colleagues at the ballet tonight. It seemed just the sort of place where Peers might meet one another socially. Nathaniel suddenly recalled his father telling him once that most of the business of Parliament took place outside of the debate chamber.
Nathaniel had not known what his father meant at the time, but now he supposed that he meant in social settings like the ballet or the opera. Of course, there had always been house parties and hunts as well, but Nathaniel supposed he might have a better chance of being invited to those if he made some connections here in London.
By the time he began getting ready for the evening’s outing, Nathaniel was feeling more optimistic than he had in days. Perhaps he would even enjoy the ballet itself, just as his mother had predicted.
Chapter 3
Anna had spent several hours in her room at the boarding house preparing for the evening’s performance. She spent much of the time stretching her muscles to ensure that she would not injure herself in the course of the performance. In addition to this, she examined her stockings closely, and was pleased to find that no repairs were needed.
Having placed her stockings and slippers into a bag, along with her favorite knitted shawl, Anna went downstairs to the boarding house’s kitchen. Mrs. Hughes, the landlady, was used to the unusual hours that Anna kept, since most of her tenants were performers of one kind or another.
Mrs. Hughes kept a pot of stew warming over the hearth at all times, so that her tenants could take their meals when their schedules allowed. Anna sat down at the kitchen table with a bowl of savory stew, and a slice of freshly baked bread. It was a late lunch, or rather a very early dinner, but Anna preferred to eat at least a few hours before a performance.
Sitting across from her at the table were two sisters, Daisy and Lily, who made their living performing a double musical act. They had been living at Mrs. Hughes’s boarding house for only a few months, and Anna did not know them very well, as they tended to keep mostly to themselves.
“Good afternoon,” Anna said, smiling warmly at the young women sitting across from her. They looked so much alike, that Anna could never remember which of them was Daisy and which was Lily. She hoped that they could not sense her uncertainty.
“Good afternoon, Anna,” the slightly taller one said. “Do you have a performance this evening?”
“Yes, I’ve just been preparing in my room. I shall have to go to the theater directly after I eat,” she said. “And what about you? Will you be performing tonight?”
“Yes, Daisy and I will be singing at the Opera House this evening,” she said, looking quite pleased.
Anna made a mental note that the taller of the two sisters was Lily, and hoped that she would find some way of remembering this bit of information in the future.
“That sounds wonderful.” Anna said, feeling genuinely impressed that they had been hired by such a prestigious venue. “I do wish that I could come and hear you sing some time.”
“And I would love to come to the ballet.” Daisy spoke for the first time. “Only, we always have to work at the same time.”
“Yes, I suppose that is the difficulty of being an entertainer of one kind or another,” Lily agreed with her sister. “You can never enjoy the entertainments yourself.”
Both Anna and Daisy nodded their heads in agreement with this. Anna had never thought much about it before, but now that she did, she supposed that it was a shame that she could never attend the opera, or see a play. She was always on stage or in rehearsals at the times when those things took place.
Perhaps, someday, when I am retired from dancing, I shall spend my evenings at every other sort of show that London has to offer.
She ate her stew quickly, soaking up the rich gravy with the freshly baked bread. She would not go on stage for three more hours, so she ate heartil
y, wanting to keep her energy up, and not needing to worry about being too full while dancing.
As Anna finished eating, Mrs. Hughes entered the kitchen with a large basket hanging from one arm. Anna could see that she had just been out to the market for her basket contained eggs, a variety of vegetables, and a few packages wrapped in brown paper and tied with strings, which Anna thought must have come from the butcher’s shop.
Anna stood up from the table and walked over to Mrs. Hughes, offering to help her put away her purchases.
“Thank you, dearie,” Mrs. Hughes said, smiling fondly at her. Mrs. Hughes was a tall, stocky woman, whom Anna guessed was about forty years old. Having no children of her own, Mrs. Hughes acted as something of a mother to the young women who lived at her establishment.
As far as Anna knew, there was no Mr. Hughes, or at least there had not been for quite some time. Mrs. Hughes never talked about her husband, but everyone seemed to understand that she must have had one at some point. In any case, she ran the boarding house herself, without the support or interference of male relations.
Anna supposed that it must be difficult for a single woman of Mrs. Hughes’s age to run a business on her own, but she admired her landlady for managing it so well. She could not help but wonder what she might do when she was forty years old. She knew perfectly well that she would no longer be a ballerina at that age.
Will I have a husband and children to care for? Or will I be on my own, like Mrs. Hughes?
Once the shopping had been put away, Anna bid Mrs. Hughes, Daisy, and Lily farewell. She walked through the kitchen to the hallway and then out of the front door carrying her bag. It was only a few minutes’ walk to the theater, and Anna breathed in the crisp, late afternoon air.
As she walked, she considered her own future. When she had joined the ballet company, her friends had joked that perhaps she would end up marrying one of the wealthy patrons. Her mother, who had always been a practical sort of person, had warned Anna not to entertain such foolish notions.
The Scandalous Secret 0f The Tempting Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 29
