“That is very thought-provoking, Your Grace.”
“But it is true. Society expects us to be perfect, polite, and well-behaved, but at the first sign of rebellion, we are ostracized for who we truly are. We are not living for ourselves any longer, my lady. It must stop,” the duke said.
“And you brought me here as an act of defiance?” Lady Anna asked.
“No, I brought you here, my lady, in order to spend time with you and be alone with you,” the duke answered.
There were a few moments of silence between the duke and Lady Anna before a smile formed on her lips. She lowered her gaze briefly, in an attempt to hide her coloring cheeks, but the duke refused to let her hide away. He reached out his hand, touched her chin and tilted it back upward, gently forcing her to look him directly in the eyes.
Something loomed in the blue pools of her eyes, and the duke was truly intrigued by what it could be. In a rather surprising turn of events, the duke leaned closer and their lips touched briefly before Lady Anna started coughing.
“Are you alright, my lady?” the duke asked.
“I am perfectly fine,” Lady Anna insisted. “There was merely something in my throat, which happened at the most inopportune moment of all time.”
“Indeed, it was.”
“Why did you kiss me, Your Grace? There are many other more-deserving women at the estate,” Lady Anna asked.
“Did you not wish for me to kiss you, my lady?”
Lady Anna’s cheeks colored a bright crimson, and she lowered her gaze once again, only this time, the duke allowed her a moment to regain herself. “Indeed, I do wish for you to kiss me, Your Grace. It is simply that I do not wish for my reputation to be tainted if someone were to see us.”
“I understand, my lady, and I sincerely apologize if I had overstepped any boundaries,” the duke said, his tone filled with remorse.
“There is no need to apologize. I enjoyed it very much, up until the moment I started to cough, of course,” Lady Anna said with a smile.
“As did I,” the duke said, reciprocating the smile she had given him. “Perhaps it is time to go back to the Keep, I would not wish to worry your mother.”
“Are you afraid of her, Your Grace?” Lady Anna asked with amusement clear in her tone.
“Most certainly not. Terrified is a more accurate word,” the duke answered honestly and stood form the blanket.
Lady Anna chuckled in amusement as she placed her hand on the duke’s and he assisted her up from the ground.
The entire ride back to the Keep, he felt Lady Anna’s tighter-than-usual embrace around his waist, her sweet breath against his neck, and the duke could not help the happy smile which formed on his lips, as well as the feeling of love inside his heart as he still tasted her lips on his own.
Lady Anna stood in front of the large portraits of the duke’s family in the great hall. She had chosen a special dress to wear for the duke. It was a white dress with so many pink and yellow flowers that one could barely see the white between the blossoms. It made her feel good to think that the duke would be pleased to see her in such a cheerful dress, and she began reflecting on the past few days she had spent in his company. The duke was handsome, but he was more than a dashing young aristocrat. He appeared stern and sometimes cross, but he was kind and fair to his staff and to his subordinates. She never saw him treat either a groomsman or a guest who did not possess a title as beneath him—even though there were few men in the North of England who shared his rank.
As Lady Anna waited downstairs in the hall for the duke to appear, she felt the guilt at her present happiness rising within her.
How could she be happy when she was still in love with George Reardon? It was a question she found herself asking more often these days, and the more time she spent in the duke’s company, the more she became perplexed. Not only that she had begun to develop feelings for the duke, but also that she had allowed it to happen.
Was being in the company of a man, a rich duke, being disloyal to the poor vicar who died on a missionary trip to the West Indies? She once promised George Reardon she would marry him when he returned, but he did not come home again. Did that release her from feeling obligated to mourn him for an eternity?
Lady Anna grappled with this feeling that she was being disloyal to George Reardon’s memory, and it was rather overwhelming. What harm was there in being with the duke? He was a man of unimaginable wealth and who enjoyed the simple pleasures of life; she shared his opinion despite her father’s enviable position and property. Neither one of them had declared any feeling except the deepest regard. Surely there would be nothing improper in the acquaintance?
Waiting in the hall, she felt a surge of a different kind of feeling sweep over her. The weakness, the terrible feeling that she may faint overwhelmed her. She reached out to steady herself against the back of a chair. Sliding into the seat, she closed her eyes while willing the feeling to pass. It was in this chair that she was hidden from view as she overheard the conversation of two ladies of her mother’s age who were passing by on their way to the drawing room.
“I am appalled at the antics of that woman. I have never seen anything so brazen in all my life. It is all anyone can talk about,” the first voice said in a snide tone.
“Brazen? You would never think that her family had money. She acts as a fortune hunter. The duke is her prey,” the second voice agreed in an authoritative tone.
They were so caught up in the discussion that they stopped walking for a moment.
“Money does not mean much to that sort, not when there is a high title to be had,” the first lady went on. “I heard her father is eager for the new connections he hopes to gain from the match. That family has thought far too much of themselves for quite some time. The son will make to wed a duchess next, I tell you. It is shameless how he forced her to hurl herself at the duke.”
“I fear what influence she would have over my daughters,” said the second woman.
“I was under the impression that your daughters were here to win the duke’s affection?” the first questioned in a superior tone.
“That may be so, but not as Lady Anna has done it. Her own mother brags about the wedding, and the duke has not even proposed!” the second lady huffed.
“The audacity of Lady Sheffield!”
Lady Anna wanted to believe that they were not talking about her, but how could it be otherwise? She heard her own name mentioned in the conversation. As she opened her eyes, she stayed very still. The desire to faint had passed, but not the revulsion she felt after overhearing the two gossips. Was this how she and her family were truly viewed?
With horror, she thought of the duke, had he been subjected to the same rumors? She did not know how she felt about him. She was reluctant to give her feelings for him a name, but now, she was suddenly very aware that she had grown to care for him a great deal and to care for his opinion of her.
Standing to her feet, she felt weak but better. The feeling would pass, it always did. What frightened her was the strength of this episode. In the past few days since she arrived at the castle, the weakness—like the other unpleasant symptoms—seemed to be gaining hold over her. She fought diligently to remain as she appeared, healthy and strong, but she was afraid she was growing ill. She dismissed that distressing thought from her mind as a footman approached her.
“Good afternoon, my lady,” he said politely.
“Good afternoon to you as well,” Lady Anna said in return.
“His Grace has requested I give this to you, my lady,” the footman said and handed her a letter. Her name was written in the duke’s handwriting upon the note.
“Thank you,” Lady Anna said rather dismissively, and the footman nodded before leaving her side and disappearing into the corridor maze.
Lady Anna’s heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the letter for a moment before opening it slowly. What could the duke possibly wish to tell her in a letter? Why would he have a footman deli
ver a message to her if she was to meet with him soon? It did not make any sense, except if there was an emergency, or something which required his attention.
Lady Anna bit her lip as she sincerely hoped that it was not someone who required his attention. She shook her head in disapproval at herself for even thinking such ludicrous things. Now was not the time to be jealous, and furthermore, there was nothing between her and the duke, despite what the other guests said, or heard, or saw for that matter.
Lady Anna opened the letter and glanced at it for a moment. It was a brief scribbled note, penned as a scrawl across the paper. The duke had been suddenly called away for the afternoon, and he would not be able to join her for their planned stroll along the lake. He apologized and promised to see her at the ball that evening. Feeling embarrassed that she had thought the worst of the duke, she folded the note and slipped it into the reticule that hung from her arm. She looked towards the drawing room and hesitated, as she knew what lay waiting for her in that room. Like a den of vipers, the ladies of the hunting party would whisper about her and stare. They would undoubtedly hold the same uncharitable slanderous opinions as what was expressed by the two ladies who spoke without any knowledge she was seated in their midst.
Lady Anna now had to make a choice. She could return to her room for a rest, but she feared that lying in bed, she would be overcome by sickness. Or she could enter the drawing room with confidence and fob off any comments from the women.
Whichever she chose, it was imperative that she leave the hall. She decided that neither option suited her, as she possessed neither the strength, nor the confidence for either, and she opted for a long stroll. She needed to move, to walk, to prove that she was far stronger than she felt.
Rest would not do, she wanted to be outside even if she was alone. The men were away hunting, and the remainder of the women were either in the drawing room, in the music room, or resting. She had no desire to be around anyone else but the duke, and he was unavailable. Yes, she decided she would go for a stroll, but this time she would climb the hills of the valley and venture out to the moors if her weakened state would permit it.
Without a word given to anyone about her plans, she left the great hall, walking through the courtyard. The sky was gray and overcast. There was a decided chill to the air, but she did not pay the ominous warning signs of an approaching storm any heed. She wanted to be outside, to see the moors.
Lady Anna knew that the evening would be abuzz with the main event, the ball, and that in a day’s time they would leave for their home in Cheshire. She did not know when—or if—she would ever see the lonely hills and rocky crags again. On the moors, she knew that she would find beauty, but more than that she would find solitude. She would also find sanctuary, if she felt faint or a weakness, no one would witness it, no one would know, and that made her feel better. She did not want to worry her maid or her mother with undue concerns for her health. Not when she was convinced she would find a way to recover.
With great difficulty, Lady Anna climbed the tallest hill of the valley. Her shoes were ill chosen for the task, but she climbed steadily onward. She desperately wanted to see the view from the top, the same view she recalled when the carriage would crest the top of the hills on the ride to Cragshead. The weakness in her body was ever present, but she soldiered on until at last she reached the summit. At the top, she found a boulder, a great rock to rest on as she surveyed the world from that height.
The view was as stunning as any she could have hoped for. Her breath as ragged as it was coming from her burning chest was held as she tried to understand the world she was seeing. Hills stretched out in all directions. If she turned her back to the castle in the valley below, she could imagine the world as it was before men, before buildings, and before war.
The landscape of the North was far more desolate than she knew how to describe and far more beautiful. Hawks circled high overhead, screaming against the wind that moaned and calling out in spectral voices as it rushed down the hill’s top. Not a house, not a single farm could be seen in the distance. Not a sign of man’s intrusion onto this landscape.
She could remain here forever, but the approaching clouds were a reminder that she may have made a terrible mistake. Low-hanging rain clouds shadowed the moors, the rain falling in the distance getting closer with every passing minute. The last of the sunlight faded behind the storm, and with it, any chance Anna had of escaping the rain. Brushing the dirt from the flowers on her skirt, she stood but was unable to move. She knew she should leave. She should run down the hill as fast as she could, but Lady Anna could not take the first step down. She was rooted to that very spot.
Tears of mourning for George Reardon fell from her eyes, as did tears of a different kind. She was falling in love with the Duke of Richmond, and she did not want to leave Cragshead.
As she wept, her heart finally giving into the feelings she tried to deny, she felt the weakness, the desire to faint overtake her. She sat against the stone, as she tried to fight the fear that washed over her. This time, she was afraid. She was unable to recover. Darkness enveloped Anna. Her last memories were of the rain that fell against her eyelids and cheeks, as well as the cold she felt deep in her bones as she closed her eyes from the mixing of tears and rain and drifted away.
5
October 1815
Cragshead Keep
Preston
Lancashire
England
The day had been long and tedious to the duke, and he was incredibly relieved to finally arrive back at the estate. As soon as he stepped in through the front door, he rushed to the drawing room where he had expected to see Lady Anna. Much to his disappointment, she was not there. The duke briefly scanned the room in hopes of seeing Lady Sheffield, but she was also nowhere to be seen.
He did, however, notice the strange glances he received from most of the young women, and this baffled him. He chose to ignore it for the time being and stepped out into the corridor.
As luck may have it, he saw Lady Anna’s maidservant and called out to her. “Pardon me,” he said, feeling rather embarrassed that he could not recall her name.
“Your Grace,” she said calmly, but as she noticed his facial expression, she frowned. “Is everything alright?”
“Have you seen Lady Anna?” the duke asked.
“Not after breakfast, Your Grace. She told me that she would be resting and...” The maidservant’s voice trailed, and her eyes widened once more. “I will check in her bedchambers. Perhaps she is indeed resting.”
As the duke watched the maidservant rush up the stairwell, he was well aware that Lady Anna was not in her chambers resting. Her mind was much too inquisitive, and she would most certainly be sauntering along the corridors of the Keep. As he moved along the lower hallway, checking every single room, his heart sunk deeper and deeper in his chest, but he convinced himself that nothing had happened to Lady Anna.
He had been anxious to arrive back at the Keep after the hunting party had returned, but only because he had been gathering the courage to inform Lady Anna of his feelings for her. Although he had tried to deny it, and as much as he desperately attempted to convince himself that one cannot fall in love with another person as quickly and deeply as he had, he could not deny it for one moment more. The duke had fallen in love with Lady Anna’s heart and mind, her smile, the way she laughed and spoke of silly things at the silliest times. He had fallen in love with her kind heart and the manner in which she sees the world in a different light.
Lady Anna may have been born into an important and wealthy family, but she was as humble as a kitchen servant. These and other things were the reasons why he had fallen in love with her, but most of all, she allowed him to be himself and did not question his integrity when he told her of past mistakes.
A brief smile formed on his lips as he thought of fully kissing her for the first time; it would be the culminating moment of his life.
But first, he had to find her.
/> He scoured the hallways, but to no prevail. As he returned to the stairwell, the maidservant seemed slightly more panicked than before.
“She is not in her bedchambers, Your Grace, but her coat is missing,” the maidservant pointed out.
The duke glanced out of the window and noticed the terrible weather which brewed in the distance, and his heart sunk once more.
“Maid, what are the chances that Lady Anna had gone for a stroll outside without an escort?” the duke asked.
The maidservant sighed and glanced at the duke. “Your Grace, Lady Anna has a mind of her own, and it would not at all surprise me if she did just that.”
“Then we must find her,” the duke said. “Find every capable person to search for Lady Anna. I will gather the footmen outside.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the maidservant said with a nod and rushed along the hallways.
The duke rushed through the front entrance and felt the faint drizzle on his skin. He glanced up briefly at the cloudy overcast sky above him and bit his bottom lip, and he made his way to the stables. The footman whom he had given the letter to was present as well, and the duke approached him.
“Jack, may I speak with you,” the duke asked.
“Certainly, Your Grace.”
“When you handed Lady Anna the letter I requested you give to her, where was she?” the duke asked.
“She-she was inside the Keep, Your Grace,” Jack stuttered.
“Where was she?” the duke repeated with more urgency.
“She was in the great hall, on her way to the library,” Jack answered.
“And after you gave it to her, which direction did she go?” the duke asked.
“I cannot say, Your Grace. I left speedily after handing her your letter, as you requested, Your Grace.”
Regency Engagements Box Set Page 6
