Page 13 of Duke of Bronze

CHAPTER 13

A nna pressed a hand to her cheek as she approached the drawing room, shaking her head in self-reproach. It was unpardonable, this warmth that refused to dissipate, lingering like the embers of a fire she had no desire to stoke. The mere thought of Copperton's charms—superficial as they were—having any effect on her was maddening. And yet, if she were to be wholly honest with herself, there was something almost... pleasant about it.

No. Absolutely not. There is nothing pleasant about it. It is irritation, that is all.

"Oh, I cannot believe you did this to me, Anna!"

Anna barely had a moment to gather her wits before her aunt's scandalized voice rang through the air. She lifted her gaze just as Petunia De Neve stormed into the drawing room, brandishing a crumpled paper like a weapon of war.

Anna blinked. "Aunt Petunia, whatever is the matter?"

"The matter?" Petunia exclaimed, aghast. "The matter is that I had to learn of your outing with the Duke of Copperton through the scandal sheets!" She gave the paper another dramatic wave before setting both hands indignantly upon her hips, her sharp gaze fixing Anna in place as though she were an errant child.

Realizing there was no immediate threat beyond her aunt's ever-melodramatic sensibilities, Anna released a breath and folded her arms. "Are you just arriving, Aunty?"

"I am," Petunia huffed. "And I came straightaway to learn why you would betray me so."

Anna arched a brow. "A betrayal? Surely you exaggerate."

"Oh, do I?" Petunia shot back, eyes narrowing. "You should have written me the very moment you and the Duke decided upon a day and time."

Anna sighed, rubbing her temple. "It was a mere picnic, Aunty. An unremarkable affair."

Petunia scoffed. "Do not attempt to downplay this, my dear. I had plans for your ensemble, your toilette?—"

Anna's stomach twisted. "And that is precisely why I neglected to inform you."

Her aunt gasped as though she had been struck. "You wound me."

Anna pressed her lips together, willing herself to be patient. "I shall not be trussed up like a porcelain doll for an afternoon in the park. It was a simple outing, Aunty, not a parade."

And certainly not an occasion upon which I wished to look particularly well for Copperton. Absolutely not. A thousand times, no.

Petunia sniffed. "A lady should always endeavor to be presentable."

"I was presentable."

As presentable as I felt like being .

"Not enough to catch a bee's fancy, I wager. Let alone a devilishly handsome and rakish duke," Petunia declared with a theatrical sigh.

Anna groaned, rubbing at her temples as though that alone might stave off the inevitable headache. "Do you not think your indignation rather moot , Aunty? The outing has already taken place."

"My point , dear girl," Petunia countered, lifting her chin, "is that there are four more yet to come, and we must make the most of them."

Anna stilled, her hands falling away from her face as she stared at her aunt in sheer disbelief. "We?" she echoed, as though the word had suddenly lost all meaning.

"Henceforth, we are a pair in this endeavor, my dear. I shall work behind the scenes, orchestrating every necessary detail to ensure you are as presentable as possible. And you, my love, shall go forth and charm the Duke." Petunia's eyes twinkled with delight.

Anna nearly choked on her laughter. "Aunt Petunia, what in heaven's name makes you believe I wish for such a thing?" She shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Rid yourself of this fairy tale notion. I have no interest in parading myself before Copperton like some trained peacock."

Her aunt waved a dismissive hand. "Details, details. Now, when is the next one happening?"

"I do not know," Anna admitted with a shrug. "Not until the Duke contacts me about it."

Petunia regarded her with the sort of incredulity usually reserved for scandalous social faux pas . "Well, in that case, I already have the perfect dress planned for you." She clapped her hands together, her delight at the prospect utterly unrestrained.

Anna narrowed her eyes. "You shall do no such thing."

"Oh, I shall, my dear," her aunt declared triumphantly. Then, fixing Anna with a knowing look, she arched a brow. "You will inform me the moment the next outing is scheduled, will you not?"

It was not a request. It was a decree.

Anna, not particularly fond of open war, inclined her head in the smallest of nods. Not because she intended to acquiesce— heaven forbid —but because placating Petunia in the moment was the surest way to be rid of her meddling. At least temporarily.

Her aunt beamed at the perceived victory. "Splendid. I shall begin preparations at once."

Anna had barely drawn breath before Petunia added, "And I shall have your father keep a watchful eye on you and your correspondence, just in case you decide to renege on your promise."

Anna blinked. "You mean to spy on me?"

"Oh, do not be so dramatic," Petunia chided, waving her hand again. "It is not spying if it is done out of love ."

Anna let out a breathless chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. Love, indeed.

The butler announced Fiona, Nancy, and Hester just then, and Petunia clapped.

"I shall go and find your father then," she declared. "Sebastian needs to hear of this travesty. She refuses to let me dress her properly! I cannot believe it." She walked out of the room, still grumbling, her skirts rustling furiously as she disappeared down the hallway.

Anna let out a laugh, shaking her head at her aunt's petulance.

"Oh, I see you are already perusing the latest news," Nancy observed, plucking the discarded gossip sheet from the table with evident delight.

Anna resisted the urge to groan. She had long since grown weary of Society's incessant theatrics, yet it seemed this particular scandal refused to be ignored.

"My aunt left that there," she said dismissively, hoping to divert their attention before they inevitably launched into discussions about the promenade.

"Oh, but we have read all about it," Fiona interjected, her eyes alight with excitement.

Anna barely suppressed a sigh. Of course they had. And, of course, they had come precisely to discuss it.

"So," Hester prompted, settling herself comfortably into the nearest chair. "How did it go, Anna?"

Anna arched a brow. "I should think you already know, considering how thoroughly it has been documented."

"Oh, but reading about it in the gossip sheets is one thing," Nancy teased. "Hearing it directly from the lady herself is quite another. Don't you agree?"

Anna folded her arms, regarding them all with mock reproach. "And you are here merely for this… experience and not for the simple pleasure of paying a social call upon your dear friend?"

"That comes second," Fiona admitted shamelessly, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. "Now, tell us everything."

Anna sighed, leaning back into her chair. "I... survived it."

Hester gasped. "Well, that is disappointing . You make it sound as though it was an utterly dreadful affair."

"Not to worry, Hester dear," Fiona said with a knowing grin. "It is only a matter of time before Anna succumbs to his charms."

Anna scoffed. "I beg your pardon?"

"Why, you sound so certain, Fiona," Hester giggled.

"Perhaps my certainty stems from the fact that he is the most charming rake Society has ever seen," Fiona replied airily.

"More like the most insufferable ," Anna muttered, rolling her eyes.

"But are those not merely rumors?" Hester asked, her brow creasing.

"His rakish reputation, you mean?" Nancy interjected. "Certainly not. It is well-earned, I assure you."

That, predictably, led to an entire discussion on the Duke of Copperton's reputation, each lady contributing whatever tidbit of gossip she had managed to glean.

"I have heard it said that it is quite impossible to resist his charms in person," Nancy supplied, leaning forward conspiratorially. "So much so that even the gentlemen are taken in by his glib tongue, finding themselves investing in whatever businesses he proposes."

Anna stiffened.

The memory of their picnic surfaced unbidden, and with it, an uncomfortable truth— she had nearly fallen prey to those very same charms.

She had almost let herself be swept away, lulled into some ridiculous notion that there was something more beneath that roguish exterior. And the worst part of it all? The yearning. That inexplicable, dangerous yearning that always seemed to awaken in his presence.

Her stomach twisted. I do not understand it. I do not wish to understand it.

The thought unsettled her more than she cared to admit. Because deep down, she feared she already knew the answer. And she dreaded the moment she would have to face it.

"Why, are your cheeks not positively burning up at the mention of the Duke?" Fiona's teasing cut through Anna's wandering thoughts, dragging her most unwillingly back to the present.

Anna forced herself to meet the expectant gazes of her friends. The identical gleam of curiosity in their eyes made her feel suddenly self-conscious, and to her dismay, the warmth in her cheeks only deepened under their collective scrutiny. She had never been one to shy away from conversation, but at that moment, she felt very much like an insect beneath a magnifying glass—examined, exposed, utterly defenseless.

She parted her lips, fully intent on a scathing retort, but even she knew that nothing she could say now would dissuade them from their relentless teasing.

"Oh, do look at her!" Hester exclaimed, clasping her hands together in delight. "Already blushing at the mere thought of him."

"I am not," Anna countered swiftly, though she was painfully aware that her heated cheeks betrayed her words.

"Indeed?" Nancy arched a brow. "You are pinker than a summer rose, dearest."

Anna let out a breath, willing herself to remain composed. "It grows late. I should think you three have dinners to return home to."

"And miss an opportunity to see you further flustered over the Duke?" Nancy chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Dinner can certainly wait."

"Besides," Hester added with a smirk, "I am quite certain your dear father would not object to hosting three charming young ladies for supper."

Anna narrowed her eyes. "They say it is rather poor manners to invite oneself to dinner, Hester. Quite intrusive , in fact."

Fiona gasped in exaggerated offense. "Since when do you care for propriety?"

"Since the Duke splurged at the auction," Nancy supplied with a wicked wink.

That was the moment Anna gave up all pretense of indifference and let out a reluctant laugh, shaking her head at her incorrigible friends.

As the evening wore on and their conversation drifted to other subjects, the ladies at last rose to take their leave. But before stepping out, Nancy turned back with an impish grin.

"Oh, and before we forget," she said, "the date for the charity ball has finally been set."

Anna nodded, relieved by the shift in subject. "That is good to hear."

"And of course," Nancy continued, her eyes gleaming, "we shall extend an invitation to the Duke of Copperton. It would be most remiss not to, after all of his generous contributions at the auction."

Anna opened her mouth to protest, but before she could utter a single word, her friends had already bid their final farewells and slipped out the door—leaving her alone with her lingering mortification.