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Chapter Fourteen

"The magnificent appearances of things are delightful to me."

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein

* * *

A nnabel moved around the guest chamber at Baydon Hall, nervously straightening items in the room as Philip tied his cravat in front of the mirror. He was surprisingly adept, even without his valet to tie the intricate knot of his white silk. He looked dashing in his evening black coat and trousers, although Annabel thought he looked out of character without his customary buckskins and navy or forest green riding coats.

“I can’t believe what the baron has done,” she repeated, agitated as she paced around the bedchamber and straightened again that which she had already straightened.

“It is fine, Annabel. We promised that we would have dinner with him as reparation for releasing Mrs. Harris to our household. We should have expected he would invite what appears to be the entire local Baydon and Filminster gentry to meet his new duke.”

“We?” She startled even herself with her high-pitched squeak.

“ I , then, I promised him.”

“It looks like he has a minimum of fifty guests for a family dinner ?? This is ridiculous. I cannot believe we had to come here and stay overnight.”

“We’re lucky it is only overnight and that he did not hold an entire ball,” Philip said in a placating tone. “Come here so I can button your dress.”

She waved a hand impatiently. “Mary can do it.” Mary, the servant she had met on her midnight escapade the month before, was now formally her lady’s maid. It turned out that the redhead was a sorceress at all preparations, including the ability to tame Annabel’s wayward hair, which was excellent because Annabel was decidedly not an expert at it.

“Annabel,” he commanded.

“Very well.” She stalked over to him, glaring at his elegant reflection in the mirror while he helped her to button up the back of her dress. He had already tightened and tied her stays earlier, sparking an irrational flare of jealousy as she wondered how he had come to be so proficient at dressing a woman. More like proficient at undressing a woman, she thought to herself sourly.

“We will both be fine. There is no one of consequence coming tonight, so you can practice being my duchess in public with no pressure or dire consequences. You are superior in rank to all the guests, so you just behave like you are better than them, and there is little chance of addressing them incorrectly as they all must be introduced to you . It is pure practice at acting superior. A privilege of your new rank.”

Annabel couldn’t stop her lips from quirking into a twisted smile. “When you put it that way, it all sounds rather simple.”

“It is, and in the morning, we get to leave and return to Avonmead.”

Annabel sighed in relief. She moved her gaze in the mirror to view her attire. It was the ivory and saffron dress she had worn for her wedding night supper. She loved the dress, and she wanted to change its fortune by wearing it without associating it with arguing with her handsome husband. She was giving it another chance. It looked wonderful, bringing out golden highlights in her hair and eyes while warming her skin tone. It was not fashionable to have such a skin tone, but she still felt like a duchess with the intricate pearl beads sewn into the bodice, along the line on her sleeve, and down the front seams of the saffron overskirt. “Let us go to dinner, My Grace.”

Philip’s eyes creased as he smiled at her in the mirror. “That is the spirit, sweet.”

* * *

The confrontation with the baron occurred after dinner, when the men had gone to the billiard room to enjoy brandy and cigars. Philip was not fond of strong spirits under normal circumstances, so he sipped his brandy sparingly while declining a cigar with the wave of a hand. One privilege of rank was that he did not have to comply with social mores such as filling his lungs with foul cigar smoke, and no one could question his choices.

Filminster called across the room to get his attention. Philip still had difficulty reconciling the idea that the vile little man had sired a lively, beautiful woman such as Annabel. He could only think that the late baroness must have been an incredible lady. The baron blustered with fellow decrepit toadies of the local gentry near a grand fireplace, his attitude growing increasingly bombastic throughout dinner, while the brandy the older man consumed with excessive vigor was not making him any easier to bear. Philip pretended he did not notice the man beckoning him over while he continued his discussion with the local doctor, who was an erudite, bespectacled man of his own age, and quite pleasant company.

“Son!” the baron bellowed a second time. Philip bit back his annoyance.

“If you will excuse me, doctor?”

His studious companion gave a polite bow. “Of course, Your Grace.”

Philip wound around the billiard table, avoiding a cue that suddenly thrust out in his path when he passed too close to the players. He reached the fireplace where Filminster and his cronies clustered around him, looking like a coven of spindly male witches with their stooped shoulders and pot bellies draped in elegant attire. Philip’s keen eye could make out chest and thigh padding, and he had to catch himself from shaking his head in disgust at the poser dandies out in the country trying to pretend they were the height of London sophistication. Filminster certainly knew how to pick birds of a feather.

“Filminster,” he greeted.

“Papa to you, Halmesbury.” Philip fought to keep his hand down at his side so he would not slap the obsequious man across the face. Thunder ’n turf, he could not wait to rejoin his wife!

The baron’s eyes were glassy with drink as he continued talking. Philip made an effort to pay attention. “I was just telling my friends here how you bargained for that flibbertigibbet daughter of mine as if she were a prize thoroughbred at Tattersall’s, rather than the hoyden we all know her to be here in Baydon.”

Fiery anger rose through Philip’s chest, and he was pretty certain his ears had turned a deep red as he struggled to hold his temper under control.

* * *

Annabel had left the stuffy drawing room through the terrace doors. The gossiping women of the baron’s circle had quickly grown tiresome. The whole evening had been tiresome from the outset. She wished she had known to expect such a large gathering of Filminster’s favorite people so she could have prepared herself to meet them. These were the local gentry whom Filminster loved mostly because he was superior in rank to all of them, which meant they all sallied up to him with sycophantic fawning that the baron loved. How her mother and he had coexisted in a marriage, begetting not one but two children, she could not work out. Lady Filminster had been a wonderful, down-to-earth woman who found every person she met worthy of her interest. The opposite of Lord Filminster’s vanity.

She was hovering outside the open windows of the billiard room, but was planning on leaving because of the nauseating cigar smoke wafting through the window, when she heard him. She had only heard her husband raise his voice once before, the night Richard had barged in on their intimate supper. He had mentioned losing his temper with Richard when Jane had died, but other than that, she would have staked her life on the fact that the duke was the epitome of social manners, a beacon of etiquette and good breeding.

“Filminster, you blustering buffoon! That is my duchess you just disrespected!” Philip roared so loudly that the windows seemed to shake with the force of it. He must have calmed himself, as his voice had dropped a couple of octaves when he spoke next, but the anger was still evident in his loud umbrage. “Her Grace is a diamond, and it is your loss to not enjoy her exquisite charms. It is my mistake to bring her here. A classic case of ‘cast not your pearls amongst swine.’ I am taking my lovely wife home to where she is appreciated.”

A door banged loudly. Philip must have stormed from the room. Annabel stood with her clenched fist pressed against her mouth in wonderment. She could not deny in that moment that she loved what Philip had just done. Nay, she loved him . He was magnificent, springing to her defense. Her chest heaving with excitement, she raced back to the drawing room and entered from the terrace as Philip entered from the hall and swung his head around, looking for her in the large room. Spotting her, he strode over, raised her hand, and placed a gentle kiss on her gloved fingers, spreading warm tingles up her arm. “Shall we go home, wife?”

She grinned from ear to ear, elated at his consideration. “Someone once told me that there were fates worse than death awaiting overnight riders.”

“I shall arm the footmen and coachman and tell him to drive like the wind. Like the very hounds of hell are chasing us. It is excellent weather with a full moon, and I think my wife deserves to sleep in her own bed,” he whispered, so curious onlookers in their colorful evening dresses could not overhear. “I will inform the men and meet you upstairs to change.”

“What of the baron?”

“What of him? You can see him if you like, or you cannot see him. The choice is yours but, for tonight, he no longer has the pleasure of your company.”

“Well, My Grace, that all sounds lovely. However, the baron’s world is uncommonly small, and these people’s cloying admiration is enormously important to him. So, you are going to have to go back in there with the men and make a ribald remark about newlywed men being cranky from lack of sleep and make some sort of public apology to restore his credibility with them.”

Philip groaned. “Stuff! Please do not ask me to do that!”

“It will be fine. You are a duke, so they will just assume you are eccentric. But pull my father aside and—privately, as you should have done—inform him you will tolerate no more disrespect to me.”

“He will decide for sure that I am an uxorious husband.”

“Not uxorious, duke, just a good man who is going to feel guilty if he does not repair this now. The baron is a weak man. The embarrassment will have too much impact on his self-esteem. It has extra force when a set down comes from a man as important as you. I appreciate the stand you made, but we cannot leave him publicly humiliated. I doubt he will ever have the bravado to insult me in your presence again after what just happened.”

“How do you know what just happened?”

She threw him an unrepentant smile. “I was hoping to beckon you into the gardens, so I happened to be listening at the window.”

Philip’s gaze swept over her face before he gave a defeated sigh. “I am doing this for you, not him. He is your family, so it is your right to dictate how we deal with him … within reason.”

Annabel beamed in elation. Her husband cared about her. Deeply, from all appearances.

* * *

As their well-sprung carriage flew through the morning light, Annabel had time to take stock of the revelation that she had fallen in love with her wonderful, heroic husband, who rescued children and stood up for her honor.

It was inevitable. She may have fallen in love with him that very first day when he had courted her with his proposal. The duke was so deserving of love. He did much for his tenants, his local community, and even the great town of Halmesbury.

How could she not adore such a man? A husband who honored his commitments and stayed true to his marriage vows. A husband made miserable by a failing marriage who had fought to win his late wife, staying at her bedside to comfort her while she pleaded for another man. And pretending to be that other man in her last hours on this earth as a mercy on her deathbed.

She loved Philip with all her heart, all his strengths and his weaknesses, and she wanted to be his true wife—to comfort him when he needed mercy, to admire him in his fortitude, to witness his achievements and contribute to his success. Pure devotion coursed through her body. It elated her to be near the one she loved most.

“What?”

She tilted her head at him, puzzled.

“You have been staring at me since we left Baydon Hall. It has been almost an hour,” Philip grumbled.

“I was just thinking about how wonderful you are.”

Philip seemed to be embarrassed by her praise, looking away. “I am just me.”

“And you are magnificent.”

He seemed agitated at receiving her admiration, squirming in his seat. “Are you glad we are headed home?” His attempt to change the conversation was transparent.

“Oh, no, My Grace, we will talk for a moment about how much I appreciate you. Thank you for putting the baron in his place. And for restoring his pride after.”

“There is an intelligent young doctor from Filminster who will never respect me again after witnessing me make an utter cake of myself. Twice.” Philip rubbed his face at recalling the appalling night before. “As we are on the subject, why do you always call him the baron ?”

It was Annabel’s turn to feel nervous as she looked away out the sunlit window at the passing hedgerows. Philip had shared his pain with her in the recent past. She supposed she owed him an answer.

“I do not think of him as my father. When I was little, I spent my time with my mother, who was wonderful and taught me all kinds of things. She was a voracious reader, and she knew about many interesting subjects. She taught me some Latin, read me romantic poetry, educated me on subjects that girls should never be taught. When she died … when she died, I felt the world had ended. That is when Mrs. Harris took me under her wing. I would follow her around on her duties, and she taught me practical things to fill my time and prevent me from brooding. The baron … my father … he had no time for me. Weeks or months would pass where I would hardly glimpse him, despite living in the same home. When I was sixteen, he deemed me old enough to join him at the dinner table instead of taking meals in my room. I did not take meals in my room, though. I took them in the kitchen with the servants. Mrs. Harris made them accept me belowstairs. But, lucky me, I got to join the baron when I was sixteen, at which point he would mock me about my appearance, my manner of speaking, anything in which I differed from him. The constant belittling did little for my confidence. How my parents ended up married is a mystery for the ages. I will probably never know what brought them together. This past month with you, I felt my self-confidence growing, now that I am no longer living under his influence.” Annabel exhaled. “Until now, I have felt more connected to the servants and the tenants than to the baron, if I tell the truth. I hope hearing that is not disappointing to you, considering I am to fulfill the role of your duchess?”

“Sweet, you are going to be a great duchess. They will publish stories about you, and legends will form around your future escapades. You are beautiful, strong, and intelligent. You can do anything you set your mind to, including mastering silly rules of address, precedent, and etiquette. I am not worried in the slightest.”

She beamed back at him. “There you go, being wonderful.”

“Come here, my sweet.”

Annabel joined him on his bench, burrowing into his side as he put his arm around her to tuck her against his warm body. She rested her head on his hard chest with a contented sigh. As her lids grew heavy from the long evening, short duration of sleep, and early morning departure, she realized it was all going to work out. She would have the marriage she had dreamed of if they kept growing together this way. It was inevitable. It had to be, because her heart was wholly devoted to Philip now and she did not know how to turn back. He would grow to love her over time—to believe otherwise was too devastating to consider.