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Was that a compliment or not? Anna wasn’t sure.

“She’s a very sweet little girl.”

Mrs. Haunt nodded again. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a neat twist of paper. “His Grace requested that I bring you this note. Good night, Your Grace.”

With that, she slipped past Anna, pale as a ghost in the dim light.

Anna watched her go, a little baffled. Did Mrs. Haunt like her or not, or was she simply reserving judgment?

Sighing, she unwrapped the note and read it quickly.

Dear Wife,

The guests are beginning to leave. If you would like to retire for the night, go to your room and meet me there. If not, return to the party. The choice is entirely yours.

T.

A shiver ran down her spine.

She didn’t have to go. He’d said as much. She could pretend that she hadn’t received the note, or simply pretend that somebody had waylaid her on her way to meet him. Better yet, she could take a firmer stance and simply refuse to meet him at all. Her message would be clear.

I… I think I want to go. Best to get it over with, anyway.

Crumpling the note in her fist, she turned on her heel and strode down the hall, towards her brand-new bedroom.

Anna assumed that just about every woman in the world spent her entire wedding day thinking about the fateful wedding night. She hadn’t even been sure she wouldgeta wedding night. He’d said that they wouldn’t share a bed and that he would summon her and she was not to seek him out, so there’d been no guarantee anything would happen tonight.

Apparently, she was wrong.

As Anna approached her room, she saw a thin beam of light filtering underneath the door, and anxiety coiled in her gut again. Approaching the door, she had the oddest urge to knock.

She did no such thing, of course.

Drawing in a breath, she pushed open the door, not entirely sure what she would find.

A few candles had been lit, enough to fill the room with a warm glow, and a small fire crackled in the grate.

Theodore sat with his back to the door, facing the fire, one leg crossed elegantly over the other. He glanced over his shoulder at her, and she caught a glimpse of a half-full brandy glass hanging from his fingers.

“Ah, the Duchess,” he remarked. “Here she is.”

“Of course, I am here. You summoned me.”

He winced. “Don’t make it sound so mercenary. I am sorry to drag you away from the party, though. Feel free to return if you like.”

She shook her head, stepping further into the room. Anxiety bubbled inside her.

“It feels as though it’s not for me. The party, I mean.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s not. Wedding parties are never for the bride and groom. A popular misconception, though.”

Setting his brandy glass down with athunk, he rose smoothly to his feet, turning to face her. Anna was suddenly very aware of the bed, a huge, four-poster thing, piled high with quilts and cushions and pillows.

Theodore gave a slow smile as if sensing her anxiety. He stepped closer until she could smell wet earth and grass and feel the heat radiating from him, and she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. He lifted a hand and trailed a fingertip down the side of her neck. It was a feather-light touch, barely there, but it seemed to leave a trail of fire in its wake.

“I never did kiss my bride,” he drawled, almost to himself. “Properly, I mean. I don’t enjoy bestowing kisses for the enjoyment of an audience. Perhaps I might kiss her now.”

Her heart drummed urgently in her chest, and heat pulsed somewhere in her core. Anna knew, with something like resignation, that shedidwant to kiss him. Whatever the night held for her, whatever the intimacies of man and wife turned out to be like, she wanted to kiss the wretched man very, very much.