Page 3 of My Demanding Duke (Forbidden Love #2)
CHAPTER TWO
MISS ANNA MOSLEY paced the floor of the drawing-room, anxiously awaiting the sound of her father’s return. He often returned in the small hours of the morning, but since coming to London he had never before stayed out all night.
Visions of the terrible mishaps which might have befallen him danced through her mind. Her father mixed with the worst kind of men and gambled with a passion that did not match his skill - or his coin purse. There was every chance that he had upset some nefarious crook and had found himself on the receiving end of a closed fist.
Horrified at the idea, Anna scrunched up her eyes so tightly she saw spots, as she willed her anxious mind to settle.
As she continued her pacing, she assured herself that there was also every chance that Papa had - miraculously - won at the tables. Perhaps he was currently sleeping off a night of celebratory drinking in a tavern somewhere?
Anything was possible when it came to her father, and Anna had learned to live with his unpredictable nature since her mother had died, five years before. Living with him was easier when they were resident in Whitby, where her father knew exactly who he should avoid vexing. In London, everyone was a stranger to him and temptation lurked at every corner.
If only they had not come to town, she thought with a forlorn sigh. If only she had convinced Papa to save the fortune he had won at Christmas, rather than take Lady Limehouse up on her offer to sponsor Anna for a season.
Even before she had arrived, Anna had known that the venture would be fruitless. Lady Limehouse had insisted that her lack of fortune was no impediment to finding a husband, but Anna was yet to be presented with evidence to support her claim.
Oh, gentlemen had asked her to dance - she had never been left with an empty card - but none sought to further the acquaintance. She had received no callers to the rented house on Berkley Square, nor had anyone sent her hot-house flowers, or even an invitation that was not made at the behest of the viscountess.
The only eye she had so far managed to catch was that of the Duke of Falconbridge - and Anna would much rather that she hadn’t. No matter how handsome he was, Anna knew that the duke’s reputation was that of a ruthless, cold-hearted brute. He was a man who gambled heavily with both money and women’s hearts - he was not the sort of gentleman that any sane, young lady should wish to be in the company of.
Anna paused and attempted to push his image from her mind’s eye. Falconbridge had no doubt forgotten all about her the second that she had disappeared from his sight - she would not suffer the indignity of daydreaming of a man who could not recall her.
Mercifully, from the hallway, came the sound of a distraction to pull her from her thoughts.
“Only me,” Josephine, Anna’s lady’s maid called out as Anna raced out to the entrance hall.
“Oh,” she answered, trying to keep the note of disappointment from her tone, “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”
“Your father still not back?” Josephine queried, as she shrugged off her shawl, “Oh, that man. I’ll string him up one day for the trouble he causes you.”
Josie continued to grumble under her breath as she folded her shawl, though she kept her gaze to the floor as though she wished to avoid Anna’s eyes.
“What is it?” Anna prompted, for she knew Josie well enough to know when something was amiss, “Is it father? Did you learn of his whereabouts? Was he involved in some sort of skirmish?”
“That man does not deserve your worry,” Josie sighed, as she finally turned her eyes to Anna, “No, I know nothing of his whereabouts, but when I called to collect the dresses you ordered from Mrs Delacroix, she refused to release them.”
“Why?” Anna asked, although she suspected she might guess the answer. A familiar feeling of anxiety stole over her; her stomach churned and her heart raced within her chest. She had lived so long with the feeling of standing on a precipice waiting to fall that the return of her anxiety felt almost comforting.
“She is refusing your father credit based on talk of his financial affairs,” Josie answered gently, “She will release them only when she is paid in full.”
Anna’s shoulders slumped as mortification washed over her. Mrs Delacroix would never be paid in full; if the merchants of London were already aware of Father’s dire financial state, then things must be very bad.
“Never mind,” Anna said, attempting a brave face, “I did tell him that I had no need for new gowns; my current wardrobe is quite adequate.”
Josie made a few noises of agreement, though it was obvious that her heart was not in it. “I’ll call for Sarah to make tea,” Anna decided in an effort to lighten the mood, “Perhaps she has a few sweetmeats hidden away that we might munch on while we await Father’s return.”
A few minutes later, Anna and Josie were safely ensconced in the drawing room, sipping tea and eating rout-cake. Though the cake was delicious, it felt dry in her mouth, as other worries stole over her.
How would the grocer be paid, if Papa had frittered away all his money? Worse, how would Sarah - who had been hired as a maid of all work for the season - and James, their temporary footman, be paid their wages?
As Anna chewed, the cake turned to dust in her mouth, and she had to take a sip of tea to force it down.
“Don’t fret,” Josie said as Anna cleared her throat, “It will all work out in the end.”
Anna nodded in agreement and offered her a bleak smile, though unshed tears stung her eyes. It was impossible for her to imagine just how everything would work out when Papa’s gambling had landed them in yet more hot water.
A knock sounded upon the front door, causing Anna to leap from her seat.
“Perhaps it’s him…” she said, making for the hallway.
For the second time that morning, she found her hopes dashed. In the entrance hall stood Lady Limehouse, resplendent in a rich satin walking gown, with a feathered turban upon her head.
“Forgive me Anna,” she called when she spotted her, “I could not stand on formality and send the footman to you with my card - I simply had to see you at once! Why, what exciting news, you must be thrilled.”
Hope blossomed in Anna’s heart; had father won a fortune so miraculous that it warranted an unannounced visit from the viscountess? She instructed Sarah to fetch another tray, then ushered Lady Limehouse into the drawing room.
“I’m afraid that you have caught me unawares, my lady,” Anna said once they were seated, “I have not yet heard the news which has you so excited.”
The viscountess’ smile faltered when she heard this, and she gave Anna a rather concerned look.
“You do not know?” she confirmed, her eyes worried, “Your father did not tell you?”
“My father is yet to return from his night out,” Anna answered, allowing herself a droll tone for her ladyship was all too aware of Lord Mosley’s faults.
“Heavens,” the viscountess brought a nervous hand to the string of pearls at her neck, “I did not think that I would be the one to tell you this but, as all the ton is already aware, it’s only fair that you too are informed…”
“Informed of what?” Anna prompted, somewhat impatiently.
“You are to be wed to the Duke of Falconbridge.”
Anna had never been prone to fainting - she was made of sterner stuff than most - but at the viscountess’ words, a wave of dizziness overcame her. She slumped backwards, grateful that she was already seated, her vision hazy.
“I’ll fetch some smelling salts,” she heard Josie cry.
A few moments later, an acrid scent burned Anna’s nostrils, so noxious that she swatted it away.
“Awful things,” she complained as she inhaled a deep breath of fresh air. She had never had to use smelling salts before, and had not imagined their scent would be so foul.
She took another few steadying breaths until her head felt clearer. Once she felt right - well, as right as was possible, given the circumstances - she returned her attention to Lady Limehouse.
“Forgive me,” she said, in a calm voice, “But did you say that I am to wed the Duke of Falconbridge? You must be mistaken; I have no association with the man.”
“I’m afraid you do now,” the viscountess corrected her gently, “He and your father played cards last night, and, when your father ran out of funds, the duke demanded your hand in marriage as a stake.”
Anna flinched as pain seared through her heart. How could Papa have been so cruel and careless, as to gamble her away like she was cattle?
“Your father lost, and Falconbridge, by all accounts, went straight to the papers to ensure that the engagement notice went out in this morning’s news sheets.”
Hurt turned to anger, as Anna realised that half of London had known about her engagement before she did, thanks to Falconbridge’s machinations. He had not even had the courtesy to call on her himself to tell her of his intent.
“I shan’t marry him,” Anna declared, crossing her arms across her chest defiantly, “He can’t force me down the aisle.”
“He can’t,” the viscountess agreed quietly, “Though, I think you should allow it, my dear. Your circumstances are dire; your father is a profligate gambler with no regard for your welfare. I shudder to think what might become of you, given the company he keeps.”
“The duke is no less a profligate gambler than father,” Anna protested, “And a rake to boot.”
“Rumours of his predilection for playing cards are greatly exaggerated,” Lady Limehouse replied primly, “People chatter because he usually wins. I don’t know how or when you caught his eye, Anna, but I assure you that one day you will be glad you did. Falconbridge wishes to make you a duchess; you will have stability as you have never known - and are unlikely to ever know if you chose to remain to coddle your father.”
Unable to form a reply, Anna simply nodded her agreement. She was truly caught between a rock and a hard place. She did not care for the duke, but even she could see that life with him would be easier than waking each day under her father’s roof, wondering what next calamity might befall them.
“You’ve plenty of time to think on it,” Josie interjected - the unusual circumstances rendering her brave enough to speak in the viscountess’ company, “It’s not as though you’re to be wed this instant.”
A knock on the door followed her fateful words, and Sarah appeared a moment later bearing a calling card and wearing a perplexed look on her face.
“The Duke of Falconbridge, for Miss Mosley?” she said, though from her tone, it was clear that she did not quite believe her own words.
“Send him in,” Lady Limehouse instructed, with a wave of her hand. She turned to Anna with a smile, “Thank heaven I am here to chaperone you.”
Anna did not share her sentiments; had she been alone in the house, the door would have remained firmly closed to the duke. Despite her mutinous thoughts, she ran a nervous hand over her hair to make certain it was not untidy. Even if she did not like the man, she would rather he find her presentable.
After a moment’s wait, the duke entered, his towering, broad frame all the more disconcerting in the small drawing room.
“Lady Limehouse,” he inclined his head in greeting to the viscountess before turning his gaze to Anna, “Miss Mosley, I trust your father has informed you of the news?”
“My father has not yet returned from his night out,” Anna answered, making sure her tone sounded as cold as her heart felt, “I only learned of our engagement moments ago when Lady Limehouse called to inform me. Though, I am told that half of London knew of it before I did, thanks to the papers.”
A momentary look of regret passed across Falconbridge’s handsome face, though it was fleeting.
“I apologise,” he said, his voice low, “I did not intend for you to find out this way.”
“I suppose there is no kind way to find out that your hand in marriage has been won at a card game,” Anna retorted, offering him a glare, “Perhaps if I refuse your offer, you might accept one of my father’s horses as compensation?”
“Anna,” Lady Limehouse clucked, “That’s no way to speak to His Grace.”
For his part, the Duke of Falconbridge looked most amused by Anna’s outburst. His lips quirked at the corners as though he was suppressing a smile, and his blue eyes danced with merriment.
“Miss Mosley will have all the time in the world to address her concerns to me when we are wed,” the duke declared, turning his attention to the viscountess, “Which I am hoping will take place as soon as she has packed her things. I have procured a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury, so there is no need to wait. We can be married before noon.”
Shock washed over Anna at his words, and she struggled to remain standing. She had never had much control over her destiny, but more than ever, she felt like a ship lost at sea - powerless against the tempest hell-bent on capsizing her.
Mercifully, Lady Limehouse was not as awed by Falconbridge’s declaration as Anna, and she gave an amused titter.
“Really, your Grace,” the viscountess said, in a tone one might use with a misbehaving child, “You cannot expect me to countenance such an idea; you won a wife in that card game, not a serf bound do do your every bidding. Miss Mosley has had quite the shock; she needs time to adjust. The banns shall be read before you marry, as is only proper.”
“I am not a man who usually cares for propriety,” he answered, his dark brow furrowed in annoyance. It was obvious that the duke was not at all accustomed to having his wishes ignored.
“No, but your mother cares,” Lady Limehouse replied, with an icy smile, “And I’ll warrant that she was as surprised as Miss Mosley to learn of your engagement this morning.”
Anna turned her eyes toward the duke and was gratified to see a faint blush stain his cheeks. The revelation that the fearsome Falconbridge was afraid of his mama made him seem almost human - though only slightly.
“You have created something of a scandal,” the viscountess continued, “You shall have to remedy it. It would be best if you and Miss Mosley were to be seen enjoying each others’ company once or twice to quell rumours that the poor girl was sold into marriage.”
Anna wanted to point out that this was not a rumour, it was fact, but she kept her counsel. The viscountess had bought her some time, as well as a little dignity.
“Very well,” Falconbridge inclined his head, “I cede to your wise counsel, my lady.”
Anna’s shoulders sagged in relief; she was not in imminent danger of being spirited away by the duke.
“Very good,” the viscountess gave a beaming smile, delighted by her victory, “Miss Mosley and I will be attending a ball at Lord and Lady Colridge’s this evening; you shall meet us there. Anna, has Mrs Delacroix sent across any of your new gowns? You’ll need something breathtaking for the occasion.”
“Actually, my lady - ” Josie began, but Anna cut her off quickly - she could not bear the humiliation of Falconbridge learning just how impoverished she was.
“I shall endeavour to look my best,” Anna said firmly.
From the corner of her eye, she caught the duke glancing suspiciously between herself and Josie, but she brazened it out with a placid smile.
“Now that that’s settled,” the viscountess said, with a contented sigh, “Shall we call for tea?”
“I am afraid that I cannot stay,” the duke answered, “I have a few matters to attend to. Might I steal a moment alone with Miss Mosley before I go?”
“I suppose I can permit it as you are engaged.” Lady Limehouse answered, her tone knowing, “Though, only a moment and the door shall remain ajar. Come, Josephine, we shall give our young couple a moment’s privacy.”
Anna watched nervously as the pair swept from the room, leaving her alone with the duke. She felt rather like a chicken in a hen-house, left to defend herself against a fox.
Indeed, Falconbridge’s gaze was rather predatory as he watched her from across the room.
“Why?” she asked, breaking the silence. It was the question which had plagued her, since she had heard the news. They had met only for a fleeting moment; not long enough, in Anna’s mind, to decide upon marriage.
“I desired you,” the duke shrugged, “I set out to learn who you were, and when it came to my attention that your safety could not be assured, I decided to assure it.”
“And the only way you could do that was by winning me at a card game?” Anna countered, aggrieved by his self-satisfied tone.
“I thought it might aptly demonstrate to you just how precarious your life is when you place your safety into the care of a man like your father.”
Though Anna had been thinking it for years, it still smarted to hear her father maligned by another. He had not always been so foolish; it was only after her mother’s death that his gambling had spiralled out of control. Once, he had been a good man, though those days were long past.
“What will happen to him?” Anna asked, lifting her eyes to meet his.
“I will settle his debts,” Falconbridge answered, with a careless wave of his hand, “Though, he will not be given the chance to incur any further ones. I will make it clear to him that he will be saved from the debtor’s prison only once.”
She nodded, quietly. Manners dictated that she should express some thanks for his generosity, but as his offer was not entirely magnanimous, she remained silent.
“I shall send some of my men out in search of him,” Falconbridge continued, mistaking her silence for worry, “I am certain he is nursing a sore head, in some tavern or other.”
“As you wish, your Grace,” she replied dispassionately. Her earlier worry for her father had dissipated upon learning just how he had spent the previous night. His carelessness for her hurt in a way that Anna had not realised was possible.
“You need not address me so formally, now we are engaged,” the duke observed, his blue eyes still watching her closely, “In private, you may refer to me as Hugh, if you wish.”
“There are a few other choice names I would like to call you,” Anna commented, unable to stop herself.
To her surprise, the duke let out an appreciative laugh - a rich, warm, almost melodious sound.
“I can’t say that I blame you,” he said, with what appeared to be a smile, “But I will make it up to you, Anna, you’ll see.”
To convey the sincerity of his words, Falconbridge closed the gap between them and reached out to take her hand in his. Despite her dislike of the man, Anna could not deny how attractive she found him and how her body reacted to his touch.
“I can offer you a world of wealth and pleasure,” he continued, as he lifted her hand to his lips, “You just have to let me.”
As his lips connected with her bare skin, a shiver ran through her. A giddy feeling blossomed, deep in her belly, filling Anna with an unfamiliar longing. It must have shown in her eyes, for when Falconbridge let go of her hand, he wore that familiar self-satisfied smile.
“Until this evening, Anna,” he said before offering her a curt bow and taking his leave.
As the door closed behind him, Anna slumped down onto the velvet chaise-longue , her head dizzy and her heart racing.
Arrogant man, she thought mutinously, as she tried to distract herself from her longing. Not only had Falconbridge taken her hand in marriage without her permission, but he had assumed the right to call her by her given name without first asking her.
“Well, how did it go?” Lady Limehouse called as she returned to the drawing room.
“The duke is arrogant, high-handed, and demanding,” Anna answered dourly.
“Men that handsome always are,” the viscountess replied knowingly, “I’m certain he’ll make up for it in other ways…”
“I fail to see how he might,” Anna responded as she doggedly pushed the memory of his lips on her skin from her mind.
Later that afternoon, however, she was gifted with a small taste of some of the material pleasures life with a duke might offer her.
“Anna,” she heard Josie call from the hallway, “Come look!”
She rushed from the drawing room, where she had been mindlessly flicking through an issue of La Belle Assemblée , to find Josie in the hallway with two footmen. Each man held several paper-wrapped packages in their arms, which Josie was handing to Sarah.
“It’s some of the gowns we ordered,” she called to Anna, “From Mrs Delacroix - and there’s a note for you, too.”
She handed Anna a folded piece of parchment, which she opened curiously.
Miss Mosley, she read, Please accept my apologies for the earlier misunderstanding regarding your order. I have sent over some of the finished gowns today; the rest shall follow in haste. I do hope it will not affect your future patronage.
She folded the page again and gave an incredulous laugh; Falconbridge had, no doubt, had a hand in this.
“What did she say?” Josie asked curiously.
“That credit is easily extended when one is engaged to a duke,” Anna answered dryly.
Inside, however, she was furious. She had not asked Falconbridge to help her - not with the gowns, nor with her father. It was he who had presumed to rescue her off his own bat.
Well, Anna would show him just how little she cared for his machinations.
“Which one shall you wear tonight?” Josie wondered aloud as she rearranged the bundles of parcels she held in her arms.
“None,” Anna answered, firmly, “Send a note to Lady Limehouse to inform her that I am indisposed and will not be attending tonight’s ball.”
She might be poor, and her future might be precarious, but Anna refused to allow the duke to think he could buy her admiration - or her hand, for that matter.