Page 18

The door flew open with acrash. Perhaps it was just because she was so highly strung, but Anna nearly leaped out of her seat, giving a strangled squawk.

A girl of about seven years old, wearing a crumpled and worse-for-wear yellow gown and what seemed to begaloshes,came skipping in. She had pale blonde hair, nearly white, divided into one long braid on one side of her head and a mass of tangled curls on the other.

Anna suspected that the girl’s hair had been intwobraids earlier that morning.

“Papa, you said we’d play…” the girl began, and immediately trailed off when she saw Anna. She skidded to a halt, her large, chocolate-brown eyes widening. “Oh. Good afternoon. Who are you?”

“Kitty, really,” the Duke chided, inspecting his nails. Anna had never known a man to fidget so with his fingers. “Where are our manners?”

The girl blushed and dipped into a lopsided curtsey. She wobbled for an instant but regained her balance at the last moment and rose awkwardly to her feet.

“I’m sorry. But, Papa, you said we’d play chess.”

“You must be Katherine,” Anna said, rising to her feet with all the dignity she could muster, considering she was wearing a stained and torn wedding dress. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Miss Belmont.”

Katherine smiled nervously up at her. “You’re ever so pretty.”

Anna flushed. Compliments always meant so much more when received from a child. Children rarely lied about things like that.

“Thank you. I’m a little… a little disheveled, you see. The rain, you know.”

The girl nodded somberly. “Yes, I know. See how muddy my shoes are.”

She stuck out her foot, which was currently dripping with mud and rainwater. A trail of footprints had followed her inside.

Anna winced. “Oh. Yes. I do see that.”

Running footsteps echoed in the hallway outside, and a red-faced, breathless maid appeared, her cap askew. She took in the sight of her charge’s muddy feet, the Duke’s impassive expression, and Anna, and let out a squeak of fright.

“Oh, Your Grace, I am sorry! She escaped me. I said that you had company and we should wait, but Lady Kitty simply wouldn’t be told!”

Katherine—Kitty—flushed. “Sorry, Papa.”

“No need to apologize,” the Duke said sweetly, getting to his feet. “Miss Belmont here was just leaving.”

Anna lifted an eyebrow. “Was I?”

“Yes. I will call for a carriage to take you home. I shall take care of the business of the license, and I shall send you a note tomorrow or the day after. Be good and wait patiently, won’t you?”

Her cheeks heated again. Under the Duke’s steely stare, she felt the urge to lower her gaze, but she resolutely resisted it.

She met his eyes firmly. “Tell me, Your Grace, do you speak to everybody with such contempt?”

The maid gasped. Kitty’s eyes went wide.

The Duke grinned mirthlessly. “But of course.”

“I hope your future Duchess will receive a little more respect.”

“If she earns that respect, then yes.”

The maid—and Kitty—glanced between the two of them, clearly waiting to hear what would happen next.

Anna’s nerve broke first. Perhaps it was the stress of the day, but her arms and legs had suddenly turned into jelly, and her stomach felt as though it was eating itself from the inside out. She’d had no breakfast and hadn’t touched the stew and cake on the tea tray, not after the turn their conversation had taken. The tea sloshed in her stomach, making her feel a little queasy.

“Good day, then,” she said brusquely.

She considered bobbing a curtsey, but they’d already dispensed with so much of the usual formalities that it seemed pointless. Flashing a quick smile at Kitty and the unfortunate maid, Anna swept past them and into the hallway outside.