Page 16 of A Virgin to Tempt the Duke

They drank for a while without talking, which always put Frederick at ease after a trying day. The fire had built itself up nicely and the evening crowd had thickened. There were farmers, tradesmen, and a table of young men who were louder than the occasion warranted.

Normal life, proceeding as it does…

“She’ll be all right,” Thomas said, eventually.

I intend to see that she is.

Frederick rode back to Rathbourne Hall in the dark of night, the horse knowing the road well enough that he could leave it to her and let his thoughts roam. The night was clear and chilly, a three-quarter moon making the fields visible on either side and lighting the way. The stubbled dark of harvested ground, the tree lines, the occasional light of a farmhouse were comforting sights.

Then, his thoughts shifted from the country around him to his dining room. The amber dress, the way it highlighted her curves, what it had done to the color of her hazel eyes.

She is remarkable, she is?—

He stopped that thought.

She is a woman in my care, under circumstances that require clarity above all things.

She was bruised and frightened. She needed a safe space, and someone to facilitate the process that would eventually get her out of the dire situation she was in. She did not need him to look at her the way he had looked at her this evening, before he had gotten hold of himself.

I am thirty years old, and with a considerable amount of practice getting hold of myself. There is no need to stop that now.

The lights of the Hall appeared through the trees. He told himself he was not going to think about it further.

He was going to do what needed doing. The attorney, the process, the outcome. Then, she would go to Scotland or to a governess position or wherever she chose to go, and his life would return to what it was. It was no business of his then.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw a bruised wrist—and hazel eyes and a spirit that refused to be suppressed. He rode on, but he did not entirely stop thinking about it. But he decided, with the finality he brought to most decisions, that he would keep trying.

CHAPTER 7

The first two days, Anna flinched anytime she heard a door close.

Not visibly; she had enough composure for that.

She found the sound of a door opening sharply, or footsteps coming fast down a corridor, or a voice raised in the distance, produced a held breath, before her mind caught up with her body.

By the third day, it was better, as she grew accustomed to the sounds of Rathbourne Hall. By the fourth, she felt safe.

That morning, the footsteps came briskly down the east corridor at half past seven. Anna knew it was Mrs. Hale on her morning round. The sound of the side door was the groundskeeper, reporting to someone. The rhythm of movement in the entrance hall around four o’clock was the post.

None of these required the held breath. She retrained herself, methodically, the way she had retrained herself through other things.

She walked with Rachel in the mornings. She enjoyed taking in the rose garden, the long path along the south field, and occasionally as far as the gate that marked the end of the home park and the beginning of Derbyshire proper. She read in the library in the afternoons, which was the finest library she had encountered since her father’s long-sold collection. She helped Rachel with her correspondence, which Rachel declared was such a relief because Rachel hated her own handwriting.

She did not see much of the Duke. He appeared at meals, precisely on time. He was not quite silent, as he asked questions that were courteous. And she gave answers that were equally courteous. And then, he was gone again into the part of the house that contained his study, his estate papers, his attorney’s correspondence, or whatever else constituted his.

This is exactly as it should be. He is giving me an extraordinary courtesy. I do not require him to do it warmly.

On the fifth morning, Rachel appeared at the library door at half past ten with her hat already on.

“I need to go to the village,” she announced.

Anna looked up fromThe Expedition of Humphry Clinker, which she had found in the library and been working through with considerable enjoyment. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes. I am going to expire from pastoral tranquility if I do not see a street with shops on it within the next two hours.” Rachel came in and sat on the arm of the nearest chair, which was the way she sat when she was in motion rather than at rest. “We have been here five days. I love Rathbourne Hall. I love it deeply and sincerely. It is my family home…”

“And yet?”

“I need a new ribbon. And to see a face I haven’t already seen twelve times this week.”