Page 5 of My Daring Duchess
“I daresay you’re not, Rowan. Just pained by ill humor,” Dr. Talbot said teasingly. “Still, why don’t you indulge an old friend and allow me to ascertain all is well? We can utilize one of the upstairs guest chambers. My bag is in my carriage and won’t take but a moment to retrieve.”
“I’ll let you examine me,” Anne’s grandfather grumbled, “but only because if I don’t, you won’t leave my side all night, and I know poor Anne will worry.”
Anne took her grandfather’s hand and squeezed it. “Yes, I would. I’m glad you’re being reasonable.” She left outfor once, not wishing to rile him. “Come.”
She started to slip her arm into the crook of her grandfather’s elbow, but he caught her hand and shook his head. “I will allow myself to be examined, but on the condition that you remain down here and mingle amongst the young people, where you should be.”
“But, Grandfather—”
“I’ll not tolerate any argument,” he said, giving her his formidable, ducal stare. “You need to find a husband—”
“Grandfather!” she gasped, her face heating. He’d been making small insinuations that it was time for her to secure a match for a while, but this was the first he’d outright stated it.
“Do notGrandfatherme,” he snipped, arching his eyebrows. “You’ve mourned that blackguard who broke your heart long enough.”
Thank goodness, her grandfather didn’t know the entire truth—that she was no longer an innocent. He’d been livid enough upon learning a man had convinced her of his affections and intentions to marry her, and then promptly abandoned her when he thought she was dowerless. She pushed the memories aside and focused on her grandfather. It was pointless to argue with him when his back got ramrod straight and his jaw was set defiantly. Besides that, she still had a room full of unsuspecting debutantes to warn about Lord Rutledge. She’d only managed to speak to five so far this evening. Her goal was to attend every social function he was invited to and ensure the eligible ladies knew what he was really like.
And as it went with all sinful things, merely thinking upon them almost always put them in your path. There, suddenly in her direct line of vision, was Lord Rutledge, leading Lady Barbara to the dance floor. Lady Barbara certainly needed to be warned!
Decision firmly made, Anne said, “I will follow momentarily to see what Dr. Talbot has said.”
“Do not,” her grandfather commanded briskly. Since her time with him, she’d learned not to take offense at his often cold tone. He’d lived alone for so long after sending Mary to live with his cousin in the country thirteen years prior—he’d only recently called her back to London—that Anne suspected he’d forgotten how to speak with another without sounding like he was giving an order.
She simply nodded, feigning obedience while catching Dr. Talbot’s eye and trying to convey that she would be defying her grandfather’s order. “I’ll see Rowan home if I deem it necessary,” Dr. Talbot said. “You remain and enjoy the ball.”
“I’m not a child that needs a nanny,” Grandfather grumbled.
“Then do not act like a petulant child,” Dr. Talbot countered while deftly turning her grandfather toward the exit.
Anne watched them make their way toward the stairs, stopping to speak with Sophia on the way. Sophia was talking with the doctor’s wife and Jemma, who was married to the doctor’s son-in-law, Philip, the Earl of Harthorne. Anne suppressed a chuckle at the cross expression that suddenly shadowed her grandfather’s face as Jemma linked her arm through his. Clearly, her sister had insisted on attending to Grandfather, which set Anne at ease. Jemma loved him as dearly as Anne did, and if anything was truly amiss, she’d ensure Anne knew.
Once Anne could no longer see the small party, she focused once again on the dancers, skimming her gaze over the crowd in search of Lady Barbara and thinking upon her grandfather’s obvious desire to see her married. She wanted to tell him that she no longer wished to wed, but she did still want to have children of her own. She may have abandoned the dream of being loved greatly, but she’d not abandoned her hope of being a mother. So she would eventuallyneedto secure a husband, preferably an intelligent man with a sense of humor. And he needed to treat her well and like an equal, as Jemma’s husband did with her.
Anne sighed. She’d never attain all of that. Jemma was a beauty. Anne had a lame leg. And while her grandfather had bestowed an enormous dowry upon her, it was more hindrance than help. It still made her grind her teeth. She was like honey to the rogue bees, but Grandfather had a different view: he saw the money as protection for her. If he died before she married, she would not be forced to wed, as she would have enough money to support herself comfortably. He’d dowered Mary, as well, though only with five thousand pounds. There was an odd tension between Grandfather and his ward that Anne attributed to Mary being rather grating on the nerves.
Anne quirked her mouth and skimmed her gaze over the men and women chatting. She tried to see herself as a potential suitor might. She had a sharp mind and a keen sense of humor, but men did not seem to care for either from women, at least not unless inside a beautiful package. That brought her back to her status as an heiress, which potential suitors would most definitely consider an incentive. That was all they really wanted, yet her money was the very last reason she wanted a man to marry her. It was all so utterly depressing, and it was probably why she was so focused on her new project with the Sisterhood. Ensuring no other debutante was duped as she had been was a much better hobby than wallowing in her own hopeless situation. It gave her a sense of justice. And speaking of her project, she spotted Lady Barbara laughing merrily in the arms of the devilish Lord Rutledge. Poor Fanny could not even show her face in polite Society but Lord Rutledge had seemingly escaped unscathed from being discovered last week with Fanny in his arms.
The unfairness of it all made her positively hot under her chemise. As the set drew to an end, she took a deep breath to fortify herself to charge into the fray and secure an audience with Lady Barbara. She did not get more than two steps, however, before Sophia appeared before her, seemingly out of nowhere.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Sophia said.
Anne’s heart raced with worry. “Is it Grandfather?”
“Oh, dearest, no!” Sophia exclaimed. “I apologize for frightening you.” She patted Anne’s arm. “You know he’s in excellent hands with Dr. Talbot. My search for you is in regard to a much more delicate matter.” A mischievous grin curved her lips, and Anne chuckled despite the immediate feeling of looking like a wilted flower in Sophia’s presence. The woman had flawless porcelain skin, dark luminous eyes, and rich dark hair that made her seem rather exotic and mysterious. It always made Anne all too aware that she was rather plain and drab—and had two mismatched legs. Still, that was no fault of Sophia’s.
Anne smiled. “Well, now you have found me, and we really must chat, but—”
Sophia turned even as Anne spoke and waved at a man who stood not two heads away, engrossed in conversation with Sophia’s husband. Both men smiled, but Anne found her gaze drawn to the stranger. He was as tall as Scarsdale—who was taller than most any gentleman present—and wore a dark-green waistcoat that his shoulders filled out. Completely. As he and His Grace walked toward them, Anne realized that the man reminded her of a fine thoroughbred with the graceful, yet powerful way he moved.
“Who is that?” she whispered, hating the breathiness of her voice.
Sophia chuckled. “That, my dear, is the new Duke of Kilmartin, fresh from Scotland where he has lived all his life.”
Anne frowned. “But why—”
“I wish I knew!” Sophia interrupted. “But the man is a mystery. Kilmartin—” she grinned. “He insisted I call him that.”
“Why would he do that?” Anne asked, glancing at Sophia, who was smirking.
