Page 13 of My Daring Duchess
“One never knows,” Anne said evasively, then stood. “I’m afraid I forgot that I told Jemma that I’d visit today. I need to adjourn our meeting.”
“I can continue it,” Mary said. “The Sisterhood is the most important thing to me.” She gave Anne a smug look.
Anne gritted her teeth while forcing a smile to her lips. Now that she knew what made Mary so dour, she would try to be more forgiving of the woman’s abrasive ways. “The Sisterhood is important to all of us.”
“Yes, of course,” Mary replied, sounding disingenuous to Anne. “I simply meant you could go about your business. We will let you know what we decide.”
Anne would have argued that they should all decide things together, but if she was going to accomplish all she intended today, she needed to see Harthorne and then return Simon’s coat.
Her heart skipped several beats at the thought of seeing Simon, and it was most disconcerting. He was a conniving scoundrel. She needed to keep her wits about her whenever he was near.
Six
Anne sat in her brother-in-law Harthorne’s study, besieged by jealousy of the cozy picture of marital bliss Jemma and her husband presented. Jemma stood beside Harthorne, who sat at his desk. Her hand rested on his shoulder while he had his arm around Jemma’s waist. Every now and then as they talked, Anne saw him brush a finger across Jemma’s hip. His immense love for Jemma was obvious.
An empty feeling filled Anne after her initial horrid surge of envy. Jemma was the sort of gorgeous creature that inspired a love for the ages. Anne self-consciously touched her shorter leg. She, on the other hand, was the sort of woman who inspired rogues to think she was easy prey.
“I wish I could help you, Anne, but we are only just now digging out of the mess my father left for me,” Harthorne replied to Anne’s request of offering a position to Rutledge. “Perhaps in a year or so.”
A year would be far too late for poor Fanny, but Anne simply nodded, not wanting to make her brother-in-law feel bad.
Jemma’s eyes widened, a smile coming to her face. “Anne, dearest!” Jemma exclaimed, leaning toward her sister. “I have an idea of who might be able to aid you. I happen to know he’s friends with Lord Rutledge…the Duke of Kilmartin! I met him last night when Lord Rutledge introduced him as one of his oldest friends.”
Anne’s stomach knotted at the mention of Simon’s name. “I met the man, as well,” she confessed, though she refused to give more particulars regarding their meeting than that. Her brother-in-law and her sister would likely worry if they thought Anne might be falling prey to a rogue once more.
“Isn’t he divine?” Jemma asked.
“Do I need to set up a duel?” Harthorne joked, amusement skittering across his face.
Jemma winked at Anne, her blue-green eyes twinkling. “You will have to get in line behind Scarsdale. It seems Sophia is smitten with Kilmartin, as well, as the man helped her dislodge her carriage from the mud.”
Hmph.Anne shifted in her chair. Of course the rogue had everyone smitten with him, except her. She was most certainly not overcome by his charm.
“I will book my appointment for dawn,” Harthorne teased. Then his expression sobered. “Anne, do be careful, yes? We jest, but if Kilmartin is truly a rogue…”
She waved a hand at her brother-in-law, who, with Jemma, had once retrieved Anne from the clutches of possible public disgrace by stopping her attempt to run off to Gretna Green with Lord Cad. Harthorne, unfortunately, knew how foolish she’d been and exactly what it had cost her, but he kept her secret and had never made mention of anything that would even remind her of it until now. His worry for her warmed her heart.
“No need to concern yourself, Harthorne. I’m not as naive as I once was.” Or at least she’d like to think she wasn’t. She focused on her sister. “I could not possibly ask His Grace to offer a position to his friend.”
“Whyever not?” Jemma, her very impractical sister, demanded.
“Your sister hardly knows the man, for one thing,” Harthorne said, smiling up at his wife, even as she frowned at him.
“I don’t see how that is a concern. The man would surely want to aid his friend by setting right the situation that Lord Rutledge himself created.”
“I doubt he would,” Anne replied. “Either His Grace has been lied to by Lord Rutledge or His Grace simply does not care what his friend did to Fanny, because the duke tried to convince me last night that his friend was innocent.”
“Why would the duke be trying to convince you of anything after only just meeting you?” her sister demanded in her usual overprotective way.
“It’s a rather complicated tale,” Anne said, not wanting to tell Jemma about the Sisterhood in front of her brother-in-law. Anne feared he would not approve of their meddling in others’ personal affairs, and she did not much care to endure a well-meaning lecture today.
Jemma looked at Anne suspiciously. “You will share it with me later when we are alone?” Jemma pressed.
“You ladies and your secrets,” Harthorne said with a shake of his head and a half smile.
Jemma blew her husband a kiss while keeping her gaze focused on Anne. “I happen to know that His Grace has two sisters of marriageable age that he wishes to find matches for this Season. Perhaps you could offer a trade of sorts. You will help the duke ensure his sisters don’t fall prey to rogues while pointing out eligible gentlemen, if he will find it in his heart to offer a position to Rutledge, and persuade the man to take it and do the honorable thing by Lady Fanny.”
She realized with a start that her sister’s idea—or a version of it—might be Fanny’s best hope. But could she convince Simon to aid her? And could he, in turn, persuade Rutledge to marry Fanny? English aristocrats generally held the ludicrous belief that working for one’s money was beneath them. Clearly, none of them understood what it meant to be hungry. She had a gut feeling that Rutledge would be more inclined to accept discreet aid from Simon, a friend, than he would from Harthorne anyway.
