Page 18 of My Demanding Duke

"I am surrounded by people who wish to do my bidding," he countered, leaning slightly closer. His scent of sandalwood and leather enveloped her. "I find your spirit refreshing, Anna."

Her breath caught as his knee brushed against hers. She shifted away, pretending to adjust her skirts.

"I can assure you that will soon fade, your Grace," Anna retorted, dryly.

The carriage turned onto St James' Square, ending their sparring match. Anna stilled as she peered out of the window at the line of imposing homes which housed the upper echelons of London society.

Which now included her, she realised with a shock. Anna's breath caught as the carriage slowed before an imposing Georgian town house. Three stories of white Portland stone gleamed in the late morning sun, itsfaçadepunctuated by tall windows and crowned with an iron balustrade.

"This is it?" she asked faintly.

"Your new home," Falconbridge confirmed, taking her gloved hand in his much larger one. "At least when we're in London, but now is not the time to discuss our other estates."

The carriage drew to a halt, and a footman immediately opened the door. The duke descended first, turning to assist her down.

As her feet touched the ground, Anna lifted her gaze to take in the full grandeur of Falconbridge House. This was her home now. This imposing stranger was her husband. For the second time in her life, a strange dizziness overcame Anna, and she realised she might faint.

Before her knees had a chance to buckle, the duke swept her up into his arms and carried her up the steps and over the threshold of her new home.

Anna gasped, her hands instinctively flying to his shoulders for stability. The solid warmth of his body against hers sent her pulse racing traitorously.

"Put me down at once!" she whispered, mortified by the impropriety of being carried like some conquest. Her protest fell on deaf ears as the duke strode through the entrance of Falconbridge House with her securely in his embrace.

"Forgive me," he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "But you looked as though you might swoon. I couldn't have my new bride sprawled across the floor on her first day. It would lend credence to the rumour that I obtained you in a less than proper manner."

"I have never swooned in my life," Anna retorted before adding. "And youdidcome obtain me by dubious means, or have you forgotten already?"

Her words fell on deaf ears. The duke did not release her from his grasp until they were well inside the entrance hall, where a line of servants stood waiting. Anna fought to regain her composure as he gently set her on her feet, distracted by his hand which lingered at the small of her back.

"Your Grace," an elderly man in impeccable livery stepped forward. "We are honoured to welcome Her Grace to Falconbridge House and wish you both the heartiest of congratulations on your marriage."

"Thank you, Wilkins," the duke replied, before gesturing to Anna, "May I present my wife, Anna, Duchess of Falconbridge."

Anna felt a dozen sets of eyes upon her. Though the servants maintained perfect decorum, she could sense their curiosity at this unexpected, hastily acquired duchess who had arrived with nothing but the clothes on her back.

"A pleasure to meet you all," she said, lifting her chin a fraction higher. She might not have chosen this role, but she would not be cowed by it.

"Her Grace will require tea in the blue drawing-room," the duke continued. "And perhaps some food. It has been a rather eventful morning."

"Actually,dear," Anna interjected, applying a false sweetness to her tone, "I will take tea in my room. As you said, it has been an eventful morning, and I wish to rest."

The servants stilled as they waited for the duke's reaction. They had never, Anna realised with amusement, seen anyone contradict his wishes before.

"I prefer my tea strong," Anna continued before Falconbridge had a chance to upend her escape. "Can anyone show me to my room?"

"Yes, your Grace," a young maid squeaked, as she stepped forward. "I can show you."

"Thank you," Anna inclined her head graciously.

With a nod to her husband, who looked rather stupefied by the turn of events, Anna followed the maid up the sweeping staircase to her room and away from the stranger who was now her husband.

Anna was not hiding,per se, she was simply exercising her right to remain in her room until she awoke from the strange fever dream she had found herself in.

A maid had knocked earlier to say that dinner was served and had almost managed to remain impassive when Anna had replied that she would not be attending. Since then, Anna had paced the Axminster carpet before the fireplace, regretting both the events that had led her here and her impulsive decision to refuse to dine with Falconbridge.

Her stomach rumbled in protest, reminding her that she had eaten very little at the wedding breakfast and nothing since. Pride prevented her from ringing for a tray, though she suspected the duke would send one up regardless. He seemed determined to fatten her up, as though she were some half-starved waif he'd rescued from the streets.

A soft knock interrupted her brooding thoughts.

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