Page 12 of My Demanding Duke

Hugh gave a slow, amused smile in reply.

“No, Miss Mosley,” he answered, suppressing a note of triumph, “It means that I no longer see the need for a lengthy courtship to quell gossip around our betrothal. Your failure to appear at tonight’s ball only added fat to the fire, I don’t see how a long engagement would extinguish the scandal now.”

“So, you..?” Miss Mosley trailed off, her expression uncertain. She looked at him in the way that Hugh imagined a mouse might look at a cat before it pounced.

“So I,” Hugh finished for her, “Will be here before noon with a vicar and a ring. Have your belongings packed, Miss Mosley, tomorrow night you will be sleeping under my roof.”

CHAPTER FOUR

THE DUKE OFFalconbridge had only left the room, when the door was thrown open again to reveal Lady Limehouse. Her fur lined cape was thrown haphazardly over her evening gown, which led Anna to guess that she had chased the duke from the Coleridge’s ball.

“My dear,” the viscountess gushed, as she hurried toward Anna, “Are you alright? Did Falconbridge - did he - did he…harm you in anyway?”

Anna shook her head in reply; dark cad though he was, the duke had not strayed past the bounds of propriety.

“What did he say?” Lady Limehouse continued, as she placed her hand on Anna’s arm and guided her toward the settee.

“He said that had I reneged upon our agreement.”

Lady Limehouse inhaled sharply at Anna’s flat answer.

“You mean he no longer wishes to marry you?” she fretted, her brow creased, “Why, this is a sure disaster-”

“No, he still wishes to marry me,” Anna interrupted, struggling to quell her quivering bottom lip, “Only now he sees no advantage in a long engagement - he wishes us to wed tomorrow!”

Anna’s outraged tone was not met with the response for which she had hoped; instead of sharing her indignation, Lady Limehouse let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank heaven for that,” the viscountess said, as she retrieved a fan from her reticule to cool herself.

Anna scrunched her nose in confusion, unable to comprehend Lady Limehouse’s response to her dreadful news. The viscountess caught sight of her confused expression and offered her a smile of condolence.

“I know that you do not wish to marry Falconbridge, Anna,” she said, reaching out to take Anna’s hand, “But now you must.”

“Because my father sold my hand at a card game?” Anna questioned, trying to keep the mutiny she felt from her voice. “I can live with the shame of that; heaven knows that I have lived with worse, thanks to father.”

Lady Limehouse’s grip on Anna’s hand became tighter and the older woman’s eyes welled with sympathy. Anna, ashamed of her outburst, dropped her gaze to her lap.

“How I wish that I had known just how much you suffered, Anna,” Lady Limehouse replied, a slight catch in her voice, “I would have pushed harder for your father to allow you spend time with me.”

She trailed off for a moment, lost in regret. Guilt stirred in Anna’s belly; she was not the viscountess’ responsibility. They were not even blood relations.

Anna made to reassure Lady Limehouse, but before she could, she was silenced with a wave of a silk-gloved hand.

“No,” Lady Limehouse said firmly, “Let me say my piece. You must marry Falconbridge in the morning Anna, not just because your father promised your hand to him, but because by receiving the duke here tonight, whilst alone, you are now compromised.”

“C—c-compromised?” Anna stammered, aghast at the very suggestion, “My lady, you know well that nothing happened between the duke and I.”

“I do,” Lady Limehouse answered, evenly, “But the ton will not see matters in the same light. I have no doubt that Falconbridge was observed arriving in his ostentatious carriage. Tongues will begin to wag and by morning your reputation will be sullied beyond repair. Unless -”

“Unless I marry the duke,” Anna finished for her.

A wave of despair hit her, so fierce that she felt winded. She closed her eyes against the panic which welled in her chest, determined not to cry.

Lady Limehouse took her hand again, her grip steady and reassuring.

“I knew your mama well,” the viscountess said, her voice as stiff as her posture, “I am not fond of expressing sentimental notions, but I do believe that such an advantageous marriage is what your mama would have wanted for you, Anna. She would not have liked to think of you living with your father, with your future souncertain.”

A tactful way to describe life with papa, Anna thought, allowing herself a moment to be amused. For a moment, she imagined what it would be like, to wake up in the morning and not have to worry about debts, unpaid bills, or if papa had gambled away the servants’ wages.

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