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“I know, I know it is not my concern, but I am the housekeeper, and the family and the house feel… well, they sometimes feel likemine, Your Grace. Is that too shocking to say?”

Anna smiled weakly. “No, not shocking at all.”

Mrs. Haunt gave a small smile in response. “You are well-loved here, Your Grace. If… if you were to leave, you would be missed. Greatly. More than you know, I think.”

Anna opened her mouth to say something a duchess might say—something kind but firm, something implying that the housekeeper had overstepped her boundaries and it would be for the best to retreat, just a little.

We’ve all overstepped our boundaries today.

Instead, Anna only groaned, rubbing her hand over her face. She was getting a headache. It was a tension headache, thrumming between her temples and promising a long day of discomfort. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she lowered herself onto the edge of her bed, hunching over. She was tired, so tired, her bones seeming heavy in a way, dragging her towards the ground.

Or, more specifically, towards the soft feather bed behind her, laden with pillows and quilts. She could shove the half-filled bags and crumpled clothes to the ground and just roll into bed. She’d sleepdeeply, and then when she woke up, perhaps all of this would be forgotten.

Lots of women lived with cold, disinterested husbands who didn’t care much about them, didn’t they? All the money and jewels and grandeur and opportunities made up for it, didn’t they?

“I thought… I thought things would be different,” Anna said quietly. “I thought that he would be different. At first, I thought he would be worse, and then… then he was better than I could have imagined. And now we’re back to worse again. I can’t bear to stay in this house, Mrs. Haunt.”

There was no need to specify whohewas, and Mrs. Haunt didn’t ask.

The older woman eyed Anna for a long moment, then let out a long, rattling sigh. “I see. Well, Your Grace, it’s a pity. It’s been a pleasure to have you as our mistress.”

Anna snorted. “Really? I made a terrible duchess.”

Mrs. Haunt tilted her head to the side. “You think so? What makes you think you were so terrible? You are kind, thoughtful, and never demanding. You were endlessly patient with the servants and Lady Katherine. Oh, Your Grace, it’s broken my heart watching that child grow up so lonely. But with you around, she’s begun to flourish. It’s like watering a wilting plant and watching it come back to life. You have been a fine duchess, Your Grace, and a better mother. Never sell yourself short. I won’t stand for it.”

To Anna’s amazement, tears pricked her eyes. She sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “That’s… that’s kind of you, Mrs. Haunt. You’ve always been kind. It’s just…” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “One of the gossip columns spoke about a scandal in the family. Seven years ago. Kitty was born seven years ago. I asked Theo, but he… he reacted badly. I’m not a fool, Mrs. Haunt. Does it mean… could it mean…”

“Any secrets I may know,” Mrs. Haunt said firmly, “are mine to keep and protect, especially when they are about this family. I’m sure you understand.”

Anna deflated a little. “Yes, yes, I understand. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to compel you to say more than you wish. I just… I just wish that things were different.”

I wish that he were different.

Mrs. Haunt bit her lip, nodding slowly. There was a sympathetic look in her eyes, as if she’d heard the part Anna hadn’t spoken aloud. She had her small hands folded neatly in front of her, and Anna saw them curl into fists, her knuckles turning white.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” Mrs. Haunt said quietly. “This was not how I wanted things to end.”

Anna flashed her a wan smile. “Oh, this isn’t the end, is it? I’ll stay with my family for a while, but I’m sure I’ll come back sooner or later. I’ll have to, won’t I?”

Mrs. Haunt said nothing, and Anna knew that her reasoning was faulty. There were countless bad marriages in Society, everybody knew it. Husbands and wives lived separate lives, in separate houses, only crossing paths a handful of times a year, certainly striking no conversation. Such marriages were generally the butt of common jokes, or else quietly ignored.

Is that my fate? An aging duchess, living her life alone, connected to a man who scarcely acknowledges her presence?

Anna thought briefly about the night she’d shared with Theo, tangled in her bed and the carriage, pressed so hard against each other that it felt as if they were one. She remembered the coil of emotion in her chest, the sharp stab of arousal in her gut, and a fresh wave of misery followed the memory.

I’ll never feel that way again.

She glanced up and found Mrs. Haunt staring at her again. Sympathy was written large on her face, and suddenly Anna couldn’t bear it. She jumped to her feet, turned her back, and began to pack again.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Haunt. My mind is made up. I must go.”

“Must it be goodbye?” Mrs. Haunt asked, her voice so soft that Anna nearly missed it.

She glanced over her shoulder, something like guilt coiling in her chest. “Mrs. Haunt, I…”

Running footsteps were the only warning they had before a small figure barged into the room, pursued by a breathless Martha.

Kitty threw herself into Anna’s arms. “Anna, somebody said that you were going away!” she hiccoughed, aggressively sobbing in the way only small children could. “I don’t want you to leave!”