Page 44 of His Accidental Duchess

Anna lay on her back, the scrubby grass sticking through the picnic blanket and stabbing into her shoulders, and eyed the invitation.

It had arrived only an hour ago, hand-delivered, and fashionably late. The card was thick and creamily expensive, the words printed with gold gilt and embellished in the corners.

In short, it was the sort of invitation the Belmont family had not received in a very, very long time.

The Duke and Duchess of Fairhaven Request the Presence of

Lord and Lady Stanley, Duke and Duchess of Langdon

To an Evening Supper and Ball on the 14th of This Month

It was a brusque invitation, but that wasn’t the point. Anna had seen the Duke and Duchessof Fairhaven before, albeit from a distance. They’d swept through a ballroom, arm in arm, all glittering sequins and lace and feathers and every imaginable bauble and jewel placed somewhere on their person. A footman flanked them, whispering the names of each person they passed, although the Duke and Duchess did not seem impressed by any of them.

They held their heads high and looked down their long noses at everyone as they passed. Anna and Beatrice had curtsied as they passed by but barely received a glance. Anna wondered if they would remember her. Certainly not.

Turning the invitation over, she saw that there was a postscript on the back, written in an elegant, flowing hand that had to belong to the Duchess of Fairhaven.

My dear Lady Stanley,

Congratulations on your nuptials! I look forward to furthering our acquaintance. If you please, write a note to the address above to confirm your attendance.

Much Love, Lady Tether.

Anna stared at the letter for a minute or two before it occurred to her that now, she was of equal rank to the haughty Duchess of Fairhaven. Clapping a hand over her mouth, she smothered a laugh.

“Anna! Have you finished reading that tiny note? Look at what I made.”

“Coming,” Anna called, hauling herself up onto her elbows.

Kitty sat some way away, on a picnic blanket of her own, apparently making mud pies. Martha knelt beside her, a handful of wildflowers on her lap, watching.

It was almost evening, and Anna had spent most of the day exploring her new home. There were countless doors and rooms, some of which seemed to have no purpose. Even St. Maur Manor, at the height of its splendor, was nothing in comparison to Langdon House.

She did find The Hyacinth Room. It was at the very end of a corridor, dark and dusty with neglect, the door itself in need of repainting. A cobweb was spun between the handle and the door frame. She tried the handle, of course, but as Theodore had said, it was locked.

And then Kitty came to find her, and it was clear the little girl was bored. When Anna suggested a picnic, she thought Kitty would fly into the air from pure excitement.

She walked over to Kitty’s picnic blanket and was duly shown the collection of mud pies the girl had made, decorated with flowers.

“Very pretty, you’ve certainly—no, no, Kitty, don’t wipe your hands on your dress!” Anna yelped. Martha smothered a smile.“Why don’t you go and rinse off your hands in that pool over there? Don’t get too close to the edge.”

Kitty ran off gleefully, and Anna sank down onto the blanket with a sigh.

“Is she having a good time, do you think?” Anna asked. She glanced over at Martha, only to find her staring back incredulously.

“Your Grace, I can’t remember the last time somebody took Lady Katherine out for a picnic,” Martha said carefully. “We stay inside, mostly. His Grace doesn’t like her being outside without him to watch her, and I suppose now that you’re here…” she trailed off, clearing her throat. “Lady Katherine likes you very much already, Your Grace.”

Anna allowed herself a small smile. “I’m glad. She’s a sweet girl. What do you generally do all day?”

Martha shrugged. “A few lessons, but nothing too taxing. Reading and writing, of course, and some arithmetic. A proper governess will need to be engaged soon, but… but His Grace has been putting it off. Then we play.”

“Does she have friends? People to visit?”

Martha shook her head. “We mostly stay here, Your Grace.”

Anna bit her lip, feeling troubled. A seven-year-old girl should have more than the walls of her house—even if it was a mansion—and the servants to expand her mind. It was clear that all the servants adored her, and she loved them, but Kitty would eventually grow into a young lady. There was plenty of time for her to be a child, of course, but soon, her tastes and inclinations would start to change, and she might start to feel… well, cooped up.

“We need to engage a governess for her, soon,” Anna heard herself say. Martha straightened up just a little. “And she will need dancing lessons, music lessons, and lessons in drawing and watercolors and so on. Perhaps she won’t enjoy those things, but she can try. She can learn sewing—it’s a handy skill, and embroidering can be extremely artistic.”

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