Page 20 of The Dark Duke’s Cinderella (The Untamed Ladies #1)
CHAPTER 20
T he next morning, Anna stood in the front doorway of Cotoneaster, wringing her hands. The carriage transporting Elinor had arrived moments ago. The staff swarmed the vehicle like a charm of hummingbirds, carrying the marchioness’s belongings inside and inquiring about her journey.
Anna looked around, hoping to see Philip walking back toward the manor in the distance. He had left early that morning—she had heard him creep past her room at dawn—and had not been seen since.
Evidently, whatever business had called him from the house was no business of hers. He hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye.
Elinor’s voice roused Anna from her thoughts, calling her name from the bottom of the steps. She hurried up and yanked Anna into a hug.
“Oh, Anna. You’ve been my sister for all of a day and a night, and already I missed you so much that I could barely sleep.”
Elinor drew back to inspect Anna, the dark lavender collar of her traveling coat reflecting the sun, blinding her. She linked arms with Anna and led her into the manor.
“That’s not to say that your family was not every part as accommodating as one would hope while I was in Somerset. The dinner last night was exquisite, and George was excellent company for the duration of my stay. I even suggested that he could come with me today, but he did not seem inclined to accompany me on such a long trip.”
To say nothing of the fact that he is still furious with Philip .
Elinor trailed off once they were inside. She released Anna and laughed, flinging her hat at the nearest footman, who caught it with surprising dexterity.
“Forgive me,” she said. “It has been a long and lonely journey, and I have always been prone to rambling. You will become an expert on my faults soon enough. We are to spend an enormous amount of time together, now that we are sisters-in-law. So I will be quiet for now, and you can begin telling me how you like the house and your new… well, your new everything.”
Anna glanced around, trying to make up her mind.
Elinor’s presence had a calming effect on her, but thoughts of Philip niggled at the edge of her consciousness. It was impossible to separate the manor from its master. Like Philip, the house was beautiful but cold and daunting.
“Cotoneaster Manor is like something out of a book,” Anna replied, avoiding Elinor’s happy, expectant gaze. “I have never seen a residential house quite so large. I lost myself in the inner courtyard after breakfast. And my room is perfectly lovely.”
Albeit lonely , she refrained from adding.
“Mrs. Granville has kept me company in your stead. We planned to walk the grounds later so that she could introduce me to her son. I was hoping to spend some time in the library later, and perhaps to drive around the nearby village.”
A dark shadow passed over Elinor’s face, and Anna paused. Was that not the answer she had been hoping to hear? That Anna was happy with her new accommodations?
“That’s all well and good, my dear. But you have made no mention of my brother.” Elinor scowled. “Did he not offer to accompany you on Mrs. Granville’s tour? Was he not with you at breakfast, nor in the quadrangle this morning?”
Anna shook her head, fidgeting with the ruffles on her sleeve.
“Hmm…” Elinor crossed her arms. “I suppose that much was to be expected. One should not feel disappointed when things go exactly as one thought they would, and yet I find myself quite upset at my brother and his comportment toward you. A woman’s first day as a wife is a monumental and often terrifying moment.”
She sighed, then lowered her voice as servants filed into the manor, carrying her trunks. “You and I will just have to make our own fun. Women make for the best companions anyway. My fickle brother would only have gotten in our way.”
Anna nodded, genuinely touched by Elinor’s support but wishing she didn’t think so poorly of Philip.
The duke had made no secret the recent change in his sister’s temperament. Anna didn’t want to come between the siblings if she could help it, and she vowed at that moment to do whatever she could to mend their broken relationship.
And what better time than the present to get started?
Slipping between the footmen by the doors, Philip entered the manor. His cheeks were nipped from the cold outside, his dark hair tousled just above his shoulders.
His sudden appearance took Anna’s breath away. This man was her husband, and although he couldn’t stand to spend a moment alone with her, she was flooded with intense pride and desire at the sight of him.
“You arrived earlier than planned,” he said to Elinor upon approaching. “Did something expedite your departure from Somerset?”
“Nothing in particular,” Elinor replied, keeping her voice level but her eyes sharp. “I always planned to leave Somerset with the dawn. And why not? I was anxious to reunite with you both and see how Anna is faring.”
Philip nodded in reply, then gave Anna another small nod.
She smiled back placidly, wondering if this was the only form of communication he would allow now that Elinor was here and their marriage of convenience was well underway. Distant and wordless gestures. It was a cruel commandment, when all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and beg him to fall in love with her.
After a moment’s silence, Philip continued, “I had planned to visit Brighton today. If you are so inclined, you may accompany me there. The journey will take a few hours—we should arrive by noon—and there are matters I must see to alone in town. Sister, you are likely too weary from your journey?—”
“Nonsense,” Elinor barked, dashing Anna’s hope for some alone time with her new husband. “I slept like a log in the carriage and am perfectly restored. It will be my honor to explore Brighton with Anna. I have such fond memories of the town and am determined to make more with her by my side.”
“Do not let me stand in your way,” Philip said, beginning to walk away. “I shall call for you both anon.”
“As direct as ever,” Elinor remarked once he was out of earshot. “Evidently, you can take the colonel out of the army, but not the army out of the colonel…”
* * *
“Over there is the fishmonger most preferred by Mr. and Mrs. Granville,” Elinor declared, pointing toward a small stall on the coastal promenade. “He owns a shop in the center of town that sells the freshest cockles and crabs on this side of England. He’s won awards and everything. It’s quite impressive.”
She cast her gaze in the direction of Philip, who was walking a few paces behind them. “Philip used to come to Brighton with his summer tutors all the time, while I was forced to remain home and labor over needlework. He would return to Cotoneaster smelling like fish and vinegar and make a point of teasing me about the treats he had received.”
She tutted. “Those tutors were soft touches, the lot of them, following in Mother and Father’s footsteps. No one ever bothered to discipline Philip properly. Isn’t that right, darling?”
Darling Philip refused to take the bait.
They had left the parked carriage further along the promenade, presently headed in the direction of the town square.
Philip hadn’t said more than two words to Elinor on the drive to Brighton. Not for lack of trying. He hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise while his sister talked her right ear off, and he treated the left to an uncomfortable silence.
Elinor was visibly displeased with him, excluding him petulantly from their conversations. He had seen them talking when he had returned from his walk, the way Anna’s cheeks had turned red at the sight of him, as if he had been the subject of their conversation.
What had his new wife said about their first night together—spent apart—to turn his sister hostile? He and Elinor had made decent progress on his wedding day by exchanging Graham’s ring.
Had it all been undone so quickly?
“What was I saying before the fish?” Elinor asked.
Anna took a moment to respond, leaving Philip to wonder what she had been thinking. “The dinner party at Cotoneaster.”
“That’s it.” Elinor pulled her closer, rubbing her shoulder. “We’ll gather all the notable families in the area and reach out to some London friends too. Sussex is gorgeous this time of year. I have big plans for Cotoneaster this spring—and what better way to kick off the season than with a party to celebrate your marriage the Wilmington way?”
“The Wilmington way?” Philip parroted in disbelief, causing the women to stop. “Our parents were the most atrocious hosts, relying on their titles alone to impress their guests. You were reminiscing earlier. Surely you remember watching their parties from the landing beside me, waiting for the moment the evening would descend into madness? Mother assaulting the staff when the slightest thing went awry? Father belittling his highest-ranking guest, just to get a rise out of someone who might dare to call himself his equal?”
“Alright,” Elinor relented, after a punishing beat. “Not the Wilmington way, but my way. Before Graham died, we hosted the most wonderful parties. I will teach you everything I know, Anna. How to select your decorations to match the tone of the event. How to memorize the names of every guest and make them feel special. How to dress in a way that does not make them feel inferior. You’ll be the talk of the ton before you know it—for all the right reasons this time.”
She shot Philip a damning look. He pretended not to see, distracting himself with the view.
The promenade was bursting at the seams on that warm spring day, the air thick with the smell of brine and food. Every respectable family in Brighton was strolling along the shore, pausing to admire the Channel, or otherwise socializing. A few had taken their bathing machines into the water, screeching at the frigid temperature of the sea.
His sister would have the means to entertain Anna for hours, making introductions and visiting the shops, and would probably welcome a break from Philip while he went about his business.
Just like he would welcome a break from her.
“Elinor,” he said, interrupting her latest story.
His sister turned back with a dark glower. Anna turned too, her white lace parasol casting a shadow over her features.
“I’ll take my leave of you for now.” Philip gestured vaguely in the direction of the square. It was only a short walk from the pier where they now stood. “I expect to be gone an hour, perhaps a little longer. You will wait for me by the carriage. Don’t be late.”
His sister nodded, rolling her eyes when she thought he couldn’t see. He was relieved, although he shouldn’t have been, to see Anna hesitate when Elinor pulled her away.
“Are you certain we shouldn’t come with you?” Anna called.
“Absolutely,” Philip replied, even though the thought of being separated from her for an hour made his chest clench uncomfortably. “Elinor will prove a much better companion than me.”
His wife didn’t look convinced.
The wrought-iron sign denoting the workplace of Hardinge & Sons cranked gently in the breeze. Philip headed inside to book an appointment with the family solicitor for later that week. His land manager from London had already been in contact with Mr. Hardinge.
There were properties in the area, outside of Mr. Hill’s domain, that his father had refused to sell for fear of dividing his estate. The farms were decaying from abandonment and would fare better in the hands of a local baron. His father would be rolling in his grave over the sale, and the thought made Philip smile.
Intending to make his way back to the carriage and collect himself before Anna and Elinor returned, he paused when a window display caught his eye.
“ The Queen’s Gardens ,” he read aloud from the shop’s banner overhead, his gaze drifting from the lettering to the instruments on display behind the glass.
There hadn’t been time to properly review the furnishings at Cotoneaster, but none of the Wilmingtons had been willing, let alone proficient, musicians, and he suspected none of the instruments at the manor were in tune. The Wells music collection was to be seen and not touched, precious artifacts that his forebearers had accumulated for want of something to do.
His mind turned to Anna, the Alder pianoforte in the shop window reminding him of her. A crude doll with brown pigtails sat on a stool in front of the piano, its straw arms hanging limply at its sides.
If Anna is to make Cotoneaster a proper home for herself , it will need to be equipped to satisfy her every whim.
The shop bell rang overhead as Philip pushed the door open. But before he could enter, someone called, “Colonel,” from the street behind him.
“By Jove, it is you,” said the man when Philip turned to look at him.
Philip stooped on the edge of the steps leading to the music shop, squinting as the stranger stepped into the shade before him.
The man was of middling height, dressed for function rather than fashion. His lips curled into a smile beneath his thick mustache. A fair-haired woman stood beside him, hanging onto his arm, closer in age to Elinor than Anna—though not nearly as comely as his wife, in Philip’s eyes.
It took Philip longer than it should have to put a name to the man’s face, memories of his time at war rising unbidden with the realization. It was Wellington’s aide-de-camp, the man who had pulled Philip off the battlefield and saved him from being trampled to death.
“Roger Courtenay,” Philip returned, extending a hand for the man to shake.
“Forgive me for the disturbance, Colonel.”
“Not at all. We may be far from our cantonment, but you have every right to address me with the familiarity of two brothers at war.” Philip inspected the man, navigating his surprise at seeing him again. “What has brought you to Brighton, Officer? Last I heard you were still serving Wellington in London.”
“Ah, I recently got married and I am visiting my new family,” Roger confessed, looking sheepishly at the woman beside him. “This is my wife, Elisabeth. Allow me to introduce His Grace, the Duke of Wells. We served together under Wellington. It is an honor to see you again, Colonel.”
“The honor is mine. Your husband saved my life,” Philip said to Elisabeth, his stomach tightening as more memories of the battlefield surfaced. Roger didn’t react to his scar. He had seen the injury at its worst. “Though such a story is hardly suitable for a woman on her honeymoon.”
Elisabeth blushed, shifting her gaze to her husband. She looked at him fondly, and Philip couldn’t help comparing Roger’s marriage to his own.
“I had been meaning to visit the War Office for many weeks,” Philip said, addressing Roger. “But London society has a way of sweeping a soldier off his feet the second he disembarks. I am certain you can sympathize.”
“Yes, I have read about your recent marriage, Your Grace. My congratulations to you and the duchess. Likewise, I do not bemoan the tide that swallowed me.” The smile on Roger’s face was genuine as he pulled his wife closer. “The commander was most gracious, relieving me from duty so I could enjoy these first weeks of marriage. We are vacationing a few weeks here by the sea.”
“I can think of no better place to christen what seems to be an exceptionally happy union.” Philip forced a smile, disquieted by the jealousy that surged within him. He slipped his calling card out of his pocket to distract himself.
“You might indulge me by calling at the house. We are in residence at Cotoneaster Manor for the time being, just outside of Crawley, to the north. I believe a dinner party shall be held there shortly. You would be most welcome to attend—both of you.”
Roger took the card and smiled. “An invitation from a duke? One could hardly refuse.” His expression shifted, rousing Philip’s concern. He looked much older than his years as he took on a serious air, passing for forty rather than thirty. The war had worn on him like so many others. “That reminds me… Though, truly, it is no business of mine. I should allow the commander to tell you himself.”
Philip waited as long as he could for Roger to continue, glancing cautiously at his wife. “What is it?”
“Before I took my leave from the War Office, there was a pressing matter concerning Wellington. It had been His Grace’s wish to schedule a meeting with you posthaste. He has made no efforts to contact you?”
Philip frowned in thought. “Not here in Sussex, but it has been a tumultuous few weeks, and I have been a difficult man to locate. If what you say is true, a letter likely awaits me in London. But you mustn’t be coy with me now. Wellington will forgive you for spoiling the surprise. What had he wanted to ask of me?”
Roger grew quiet. His wife took it as her cue to leave, stepping aside to admire a shop window further down the street. Alone now, the men slipped into a familiar pattern of speech—two soldiers discussing war matters.
“The commander has been collaborating with the Foreign Office,” Roger began. “They have ordered a new ambassadorial post to assist the French. There are attachés on the ground in Paris naturally, but the commander believes an envoy with direct military experience would better serve the cause. And given your rank, Colonel… But then, of course, things being as they are…”
Philip let Roger trail off, all too aware of what he couldn’t dare to say. His marriage to Anna had riveted the ton, but the political forces of England would have heard about his engagement too. If Wellington was calling him away from his new wife and the duchy, it had to be serious.
But Philip had his doubts.
“He wishes to send me? Far be it from me to question Wellington’s wisdom, but there must be someone else better suited to the position. My military rank is one thing, but my title is quite another. Now, now,” he interjected when Roger looked keen to flatter him. “You’re no shrinking violet. It is a well-known fact that my family has long since fallen out of favor with the Crown. Prinny won’t accept a Wilmington in his court, yet he would agree to send one abroad as his representative? Something is amiss.”
Roger sighed, evidently compelled to drop most pretenses now that his wife had strolled out of earshot and Philip had invited him to speak candidly.
“If one were to theorize,” he said, with a look that let Philip know these words had come directly from Wellington, “such circumstances would make His Grace the perfect candidate for the ambassadorial post.”
“You mean to say…” Philip scoffed. “A duke who would not be missed by the nobility, yet has the military experience and the right title to support Le Désiré and his restoration. And if relations were to sour, the Prince Regent could point to him as an outlier. Wellington would make me Prinny’s whipping boy?”
He sighed, and it turned into a disbelieving laugh.
“Such things will not come to pass,” Roger assured him. “It is my truest belief that the commander sought to honor you with the post.”
Philip supposed Wellington had thus far respected his desire to spend the last year of his commission in peace. He didn’t relish the idea of traveling to France and becoming a glorified diplomat. But when duty called, no soldier worth his salt refused to answer.
And he had to admit, the timing was fortuitous.
It would be easier for Anna to accept their separation if he was called away on an official errand, rather than hiding in their house in London while she remained in Sussex—easier to hide the reality of their marriage from the ton.
But if Wellington’s proposal is as useful and interesting as I think it is, why does the idea of accepting it fill me with such dread?
Philip returned his attention to Roger.
“I shall give the commander my answer in person,” he declared, biding his time. “Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. It is certainly… something to consider.”
“Certainly, Your Grace.”
All it took was a glance in her direction for Elisabeth to come running back to Roger.
Philip bowed as they departed, his mind racing as the little doll in the shop window waited patiently on her piano stool for him to decide what to do next.