Page 124 of Corrupting his Duchess

I will keep this brief, or I’ll write through the morning and miss the ceremony altogether.

Just know that when I stand at the altar, I won’t be waiting for a duchess. I’ll be waiting for you.

Yours,

H.

Silence settled for a breath.

Then, Julia sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. “Well, that’s it. I shall never love again. My heart belongs to your duke.”

“I told you he was romantic,” Heather said quietly, beaming.

Anna folded the letter carefully, her fingers lingering on the parchment. Her cheeks were pink, her lips parted in that stunned, radiant way that came only from being truly seen.

Gretchen waved her fan. “If you smile any wider, your face will split.”

“I don’t care,” Anna murmured, brushing the letter with her thumb. “I truly don’t.”

Julia sat back up, crossing her arms with mock indignation. “I can't reconcile who he is now to what he was when we arrived at Yeats?”

Anna blinked. “What?”

“A brooding duke,” Julia declared. “All shadows and clipped answers. I assumed he hated everyone, especially women.”

Heather giggled. “He didn’t hate Anna.”

“No,” Julia said, dramatically. “He fell like a great stone down a well. And now he writes letters.”

Anna said nothing, but her smile only deepened.

“Well,” Gretchen sniffed, her joy radiating. “I suppose you can have your girlish fantasy after all.”

Anna looked down at the letter once more then out the window where the morning sun had finally broken through the clouds.

There was a bustle at the doorway. Lady Stenton, entered slowly, wrapped in a fresh shawl, her hair loosely pinned. Her steps were measured, but her eyes were full.

“You all chatter too much,” she said quietly. “Let your sister breathe.”

The girls stilled.

Anna stepped toward her mother and took her hands gently. “Are you feeling well?”

The Dowager Countess nodded. “Today, yes. I want to see you go to him. I want to remember the way you looked.”

They stood a moment, quiet.

Then Heather clapped her hands. “You must dress now. Or we’ll be late.”

Hours later, in the carriage on the way to the chapel...

Julia leaned forward. “Do you think he’ll cry?”

Anna blinked. “What?”

“At the altar,” Julia said, arching a brow. “It would be very flattering if he cried.”

“He will not cry,” Anna said, though her heart was galloping now.