Page 2 of The Dark Duke’s Cinderella (The Untamed Ladies #1)

CHAPTER 2

A Few Hours Later...

A nna brought a pearl earring up to her ear, evaluating the shade of white against her skin. Her friends laughed and conversed loudly behind her, doing their own toilettes for the evening ahead.

She sighed contemplatively, setting the pearl earring on the vanity before her. It clinked against the marble tabletop, and she picked up a pair of diamond earrings instead. Her mother had always liked them on her. They were an inheritance from her paternal grandmother—the late, though not particularly missed, Countess of Bristol.

“But that’s just the thing,” Helena cried between bursts of laughter. “How can a woman possibly know what to do with herself if all she is allowed to pursue are interests of such little value as to not be worth the pursuit in the first place? Watercolors, music, manners… These accomplishments set the bar impossibly low from the onset. If a girl is told that her role is to paint prettily, to sing in tune, to be beautiful, how could she conceive of a world in which she could become a woman-barrister, or a woman-doctor? The problem lies in education. Everything is learned, especially the expectations we set for ourselves. That is my thought on things, at least. Which, as usual, I suppose nobody asked for.”

Indeed, nobody did, but that was par for the course with Helena. She launched into political soliloquies at every opportunity.

Anna had determined long ago that Helena loved the sound of her own voice. Anna and the rest of them didn’t mind. As the second eldest of their group, Helena was the most opinionated of them all—and perhaps to their detriment, the most persuasive too.

The youngest, Lucy, placed a hand in front of her mouth and feigned a yawn. She lay down on Anna’s bed, reading her latest loan from the lending library. Her bright blonde hair shone in the light from the candles nearby, a stark contrast to Anna’s chestnut-brown hair.

“How did we even get on the topic?” Lucy asked, giggling when Helena shot her a dark look. “Margaret was saying something about her gown…”

“I said that I was having difficulty selecting my colors for this Season because lavender is supposed to be the favorite of the Queen. But it looks ghastly on me. And so does white, for that matter, which is equally popular,” Margaret explained, striking a pose in Anna’s standing mirror. Poised and polished, Margaret cut an impressive figure. “And then Sophia said that she was having trouble in that regard too, because the latest fashion plates in La Belle Assemblée contradicted the trends in The Lady’s Magazine she had just read. And then Helena said?—”

“And then Helena said,” Sophia cut in, scenting herself with rosewater, “that the reason we have such trouble choosing is that we are all taught to be helpless—that is if I am summarizing your arguments correctly, darling Helena?”

Helena hardly seemed to be listening, having climbed onto the bed to read over Lucy’s shoulder.

Anna gave an unladylike snort at the sight of them, then returned to her toilette. Her friends always managed to infuse every moment with a bit of chaos. She was the most middling and quietest of them. She satisfied herself mostly by watching the girls and occasionally mediating their most heated debates.

But that night, she was feeling a little emboldened by Helena’s argument, and by their destination. She took off her mother’s favorite diamonds and reached for a pair of chandelier earrings that her father had once called the height of vulgarity . To Anna’s eye, there was nothing immoral about them. They made her feel beautiful, like anything was possible when she wore them.

“But Helena was not done,” she piped up, shaking her head slowly and enjoying the tinkling of her new jewelry. “Because that education must come from somewhere…”

“Exactly.” Like kindling to a fire, Anna’s invitation to speak made Helena bolt upright, and she clapped her hands in excitement. “And there is only one culpable force…” She paused for gravitas, though they all knew what was coming. “Men.”

“Men,” Margaret echoed, rolling her eyes in disgust.

Lucy and Sophia nodded their agreement, taking on new fierce airs at the mention of their common enemy.

Anna did not feel as passionately about the topic as Helena. But she agreed with a low, damning murmur all the same.

“And that is why we cannot bend to their will this year,” Helena continued, commanding the room like a general with a hand on her hip. “We will not join the Season with the hope of finding husbands. We will attend their balls and dance and socialize with the rest of them. But in secret, we will forge a new way of living for ourselves, by reading and learning, by becoming women of culture—that which they fear most.” She leaped off the bed and landed loudly on the floor. Anna worried a maid would soon come asking about the racket. “And that is also why, above all else, we will never, ever marry one of them.”

“The League of Untamed Hearts,” Lucy intoned dreamily, having set down her book.

Anna cringed somewhat at the name. It had been Helena’s idea to start a society between themselves, like some of the fashionable women were doing in London. Their correspondence over the summer had taken on a new edge when Margaret had been snubbed by a bachelor in the country. Helena had come up with the idea shortly after, as a remedy to her friend’s heartbreak. Lucy had decided on the name, and Sophia had commissioned a unique set of wax stampers they could use to seal their letters to one another: a heart on a shield, guarded by two swords.

But unlike the bluestockings, Anna and her friends were not in a position to openly pursue their interests and express their disdain for society. Lucy, at seventeen, considered herself too young to be a pariah. Margaret and Sophia, despite joining in on the fun, still longed for happy marriages—Anna could tell just by watching them at soirees, where they tried to catch the eyes of passing suitors. Helena, despite believing in their rebellion with all her heart, feared the retribution of her parents. And Anna…

Well , I find myself sharing the same reservations and obstacles as them all. But most of all…

She shuddered.

Most of all, my father has already threatened to arrange a marriage for me if I cannot secure a husband this Season. If he knew of our intentions to turn into spinsters, he would marry me off to whomever he saw fit without delay. And I have seen the men my father socializes with. I would have an old boor for a husband, someone rich but cruel. That would be the worst life of all.

“Anna?” Margaret asked quietly from beside her.

Anna hadn’t even noticed her approaching. Helena, Sophia, and Lucy had started a new discussion on Lucy’s book, filling the room with happy conversation while Anna’s mind whirled. Margaret placed a hand on her shoulder and looked deeply into her eyes. Anna could sense her reading her thoughts. But instead of interrogating her, Margaret smiled.

“Those earrings look lovely on you,” she said, taking one between her thumb and forefinger. “I’m certain your cousin will love them too and want a pair for herself. Are you excited about watching her perform tonight?”

Anna nodded, grateful to Margaret for not exposing her. “I always am. Alicia has such a wonderful voice. She’s performing a Rossini opera tonight, and I know those are her favorites. Although I promised Mother and Father that I would take some time tonight to look for eligible bachelors among the opera’s patrons, I intend to spend every second watching her…”

Her mind turned to her talented cousin, and warm feelings washed over her.

Alicia was only five years older than Anna, but she had already traveled all over Europe with her opera company. When she had participated in the London Seasons, she had been the belle of every ball. Her voice was unmatched. While she bore a striking resemblance to Anna, she had a charm that was impossible to replicate.

Anna loved singing too, learning every opera that Alicia performed. But she would never measure up to Alicia—and that was fine.

“She always knows how to lift your spirits. I can always tell when you’ve been speaking with her. You sing more, and smile more too.” Margaret stepped back, but kept her voice low, not wanting to alert the others. “I hope that she can give you some sage advice tonight. Whatever is burdening your heart… you can overcome it, I am sure.”

Leaving to join the others and defuse the fight that was already starting between Helena and Lucy, Margaret left Anna to her thoughts.

She remained in quiet contemplation until the girls made their way downstairs. Anna had hoped to exit the house without attracting the attention of her parents. But the girls were running late, and she knew her father would not miss an opportunity to scold her.

She found her mother waiting for them by the open front doors, a cold breeze sweeping in from outside. Her father was discussing something with their butler, pointing at his pocket watch.

Rosamund Walford, the Countess of Bristol, was well-liked by the ton for her gentle spirit and grace. Anna, however, knew a much different Rosamund than they did.

At home, the countess was a conduit for her husband’s will. By agreeing with all of his cruel decisions, she herself became cruel in the process. Anna saw glimpses of her mother’s goodness when they found themselves alone—like when they took tea while her father was working, or on their promenades in town. But those fleeting moments did not make Anna trust her, and she definitely did not consider her mother as an ally.

By contrast, there were no two sides to her father, Magnus. He was as unlikeable and cold to Anna as he was out in society. Somehow, the ton loved him for it. Anna didn’t know much about the way he ran his estate, but he was visited frequently by peers from all over England. And judging from their long sojourns in her father’s den, they must have enjoyed his company.

Her sister, Rebecca, older than her by nine years and married in her first Season, swore that Anna was mistaken and that she judged their parents too harshly. Their father may have been distant, but that did not make him a villain. Both of their parents only wanted the best for them.

The best for themselves . It would make their lives so much easier if I married as quickly and successfully as Rebecca. But I am not a diamond like her, and I never will be. I wish they would see me for who I really am and stop comparing us.

These were vain wishes, and she knew it. Anna could do nothing but disappoint her parents at every given opportunity. She read too much to their liking, thought too deeply, spent too much time with her friends or on her music…

She saw that same disappointment in her mother’s eyes that evening. It manifested the moment she caught sight of the earrings dangling from her ears. Cutting through the group of Anna’s friends, Rosamund pushed back the ringlets framing her daughter’s face and examined her.

“Your father will not be happy,” she muttered after a moment, releasing her. With a sigh, she turned to look at Anna’s friends. “At least the rest of you look presentable. What a lovely gown, Sophia,” she added with forced levity.

Sophia was the granddaughter of a duke and had earned Rosamund’s respect, and favor, because of her shining lineage. She bobbed a performative curtsey, lightening the mood somewhat.

The earl arrived swiftly. He immediately cast a black cloud over them again. Checking his pocket watch for emphasis, he looked between the girls, assessing them individually, before concluding his evaluation with a grunt.

“You are already ten minutes late, and now you stand here, speaking about your dress, while the carriage driver waits outside. What took you so long?” He looked at his wife. “I thought you were overseeing the preparations.”

Rosamund blanched, nodding apologetically. “I was distracted by a call, husband dearest. Lady Sophia’s mother remained for a while to talk over tea. But the girls are ready now, and there is, as you said, little time to waste.”

Backing toward the doors, Rosamund took Sophia and Margaret by the arms and led them toward the waiting carriage. Lucy and Helena curtsied to the earl, then quickly followed them outside.

Anna hurried after them, keeping her gaze low. She adjusted her scented gloves, angling her head in a way that she hoped concealed her earrings from her father, who was watching. Who was always watching.

“Anna,” came his voice, stopping her in her tracks.

She turned to face him. Her friends had disappeared into the night with her mother, leaving her at his mercy.

“I made a great concession in letting you attend the opera tonight. But do not believe that I am stupid, girl. I guessed from your emphatic plea that your wretched cousin was performing this evening. And I have since confirmed my suspicions.” He closed the distance between them, making her stomach lurch. Her father stood at least a foot taller than her, and she struggled to breathe in his shadow. “I do not tolerate liars. Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord .”

He quoted the bible, as was his habit. But in this instance, Anna wondered whether he was blaspheming, not speaking of the Good Lord but the lord of the manor.

There was nothing so great—and so terrible—as her father’s high opinion of himself.

“If I find out that you have spoken to Alicia tonight, you will discover the limits of my patience once and for all.” He sighed, his lips twitching beneath his salt-and-pepper mustache. “You are twenty, soon one-and-twenty. Three Seasons you have spent in vain exercise, more focused on your books and music than the real world. I will not tolerate another failure. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Father,” Anna replied, too terrified to say anything more.

Satisfied, Magnus stepped back and cleared the way for her to leave. She made for the doors without looking back, her eyes stinging with tears she refused to let fall.

* * *

It was difficult for Anna to appreciate her freedom that evening with her father’s warning ringing in her ears. Her friends kept themselves busy in the carriage ride to the opera, admiring the lights and spectacles of London as they drove down the Strand and then into Haymarket. Margaret kept a hand on Anna’s leg the entire ride, lending her silent support to her, even though Anna was too deep in her misery to notice.

Helena’s aunt lived nearby, and it had been decided among their parents that she would chaperone them for the evening. One by one, the girls exited the Bristol carriage upon reaching The King’s Theatre. Not a moment later, they were greeted by Lady Jane, whose auburn hair was a perfect match for her niece’s.

“Oh, so many beautiful doves come spilling out of their gilded cage!” she cried, kissing each girl as they appeared. Anna alighted last, and Lady Jane grabbed her by the arm, pulling her into a hug. “I have seen all the girls this summer but you, Anna. And how terribly I have missed you. Would that your father had retired to Somerset with the rest of them. What fun we could have had together!”

Lady Jane’s embrace shook Anna out of her misery. She smiled as she hugged her tightly before letting go, even as the fabric of Lady Jane’s opulent coat made her skin itch where it touched it.

“Father wanted to summer with my sister and her husband in Yorkshire,” Anna explained, recalling how isolated she had felt while her parents played happy family with Rebecca, her perfect husband, and their new baby.

“I heard about that,” Lady Jane said, not bothering to conceal her disapproval. “I shall say nothing about Lord Kite, nor about your sister’s desire to live there as Lady Kite, but Yorkshire is not suitable for a young woman in the prime of her life like you.”

The group proceeded into the foyer.

“I’ve rented a box for the Season,” Lady Jane added as they climbed up the stairs behind their usher. “You are more than welcome to occupy the box as you wish, so long as we coordinate the dates in advance. I know that your father is…” She took time to choose her words, glancing around for eavesdroppers.

“Let us simply say, a bit of a philistine. Something which I have always found absurd, because your family tree is decorated with excellent artists. Your cousin Alicia, in particular, is a marvel.”

“You have watched her perform?” Anna beamed in delight. Any flattery Alicia received made her giddy with pride. “I will tell her how highly you approve of her voice. She will be so pleased, Lady Jane.”

That is if I dare to find her after the show and speak with her, knowing what it might cost me…

As if Anna had summoned her cousin with her thoughts, Alicia appeared on the landing at the top of the stairs. Her face was flushed, and her chest heaved with labored breaths. She started as she caught Anna’s eye.

Her cousin’s skin had taken on a golden tone from her time in Italy, and it suited her. She had only returned to London a few months ago for the operatic season, currently dressed in a lavish white and red gown, not yet changed into her costume.

“Heavens, you’re all here. And there are so many of you!” Alicia exclaimed through a laugh, catching her breath. She nodded at Anna’s friends, whom she had met before.

“But of course, I’m glad to see you—so glad for the support. Anna…” She sighed in relief, extending a hand for her cousin to take. “We must catch up after the show. There is so much that I…” She stammered, looking behind her. “Well, there will be time for that later. I will leave you to find your box. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

Anna furrowed her brow in confusion as her cousin raced down the stairs. Surely it wasn’t usual for the Seconda Donna to be visiting the boxes moments before the opera began. Anna hesitated as the usher continued his ascent and her group followed after him.

Had Alicia been looking for someone in particular? Why had she seemed so upset? Her cousin was distressed, late for her performance. What could possibly have happened?

“Anna?” came Margaret’s voice. Looking up, Anna noticed that the rest of the girls had disappeared with Lady Jane. “What’s wrong?”

It was rare for Anna to listen to her gut. In fact, she had trained herself to repress most of her instincts to please her father. But in the case of Alicia, whom she admired and loved more than anyone, she felt compelled to follow after her, no matter what rules she might break by doing so.

“I need a moment,” she said, pushing past other patrons down the stairs before Margaret could stop her. “Tell Lady Jane that I retired to the ladies’ room to fix my hair or something like that.”

It was a paltry lie, and Anna didn’t like telling it.

But I must find Alicia and figure out what is wrong.