Page 9 of A Virgin to Tempt the Duke

“That is…” He paused to keep his voice even. Anna did not deserve his anger, not even so much as a growl. “Did anything else happen? Afterward, did he…”

“We were in a carriage right after the ceremony,” she quickly clarified, realizing his line of questioning. “He did not touch me then… but made his intentions most clear…” A fractional pause. “I left at the first opportunity.”

He exhaled through his nose, once. His hands, at his sides, closed briefly into tight fists.

“I understand,” he said, unclenching his hands. “You can stay in my household.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was steady. “I-I…”

She had clearly braced herself for a different answer and did not quite know, yet, what to do with this one.

“One month.” He clarified as he paced to the window, because standing looking at her was becoming a dangerous pastime. “I’ll speak to my attorney about an annulment for you. No consummation, clear coercion, no consent… While it is not a simple case, it is not an impossible one.” He turned back. “You should understand what it means; Birchall and your cousinwill retaliate. Publicly. If the annulment is granted, society will still?—”

“I know.”

He stopped.

“I know what I am giving up,” she told him. “I made my choice when I took the horse.” Her eyes met his. “I don’t want society, Your Grace. I want to live without…” She stopped. Her gaze dropped, briefly, to her wrist. “Without that.”

“You do not have to go to your aunt’s. I will help you find respectable accommodation,” he continued, grateful his voice had found his practical register again, the one that made these things possible to say. “A letter of introduction. A position in a household that can be trusted, a companion, perhaps. You will not be left without resources.”

“I will repay you. I don’t know how or when. But I intend to.”

He turned and looked at her again. The light had shifted, or he had. Something had altered in the room without his permission, which was as much a part of Rathbourne House as its foundation. She was watching him with those steady, serious eyes. He shook his head, crossed to the door and opened it.

“Rachel.” His sister materialized with the speed of someone who had not moved far at all and had likely heard every word. “LendMiss Anna something suitable. Have your maid begin packing for a full stay. We leave for Rathbourne Hall within the hour.”

Rachel’s eyes went wide, as did her mouth.

“London is not where we want to be with this unsettled.” He was already looking past them both, at the logistics, at the necessary sequence of things to be done. “The Hall is easier to manage. That is that.”

With that, he gave a short nod and left.

CHAPTER 4

The carriage lamps were the only light for the last mile. They had packed quickly, devoured a modest meal, and ridden without stopping in relative silence. The road was indistinguishable from the fields on either side of it.

If I never set foot in a carriage again,Anna thought as the journey neared its end, it would be too soon.

Rathbourne Hall revealed itself gradually. First the gateposts, pale stone catching the lamplight. Then the sound of gravel turning under the wheels. Then the sheer shape of it against the sky, too large to take in at once, too dark to properly see, looming with an indescribable weight of stone and age and all the lives that had centered around this building for decades.

Anna shifted in her seat. Rachel’s wool walking gown was pinned hastily at the waist and fit her poorly, and the borrowed cloak around her shoulders was slightly too long. It did not matter,though. Her wedding dress had been folded into a trunk, and she intended never to think of it again.

“Are you all right, Miss Anna?” His Grace asked, breaking the silence.

“Yes, Your Grace,” she said. “Thank you.”

“We are here at last,” Rachel announced with a sigh as the horses began to slow. “I am famished!”

The carriage stopped. Footmen appeared from the house before the door had opened, which said something about the standards of Rathbourne Hall that struck Anna. It was only fitting, given her brief but poignant impression of the commanding Duke.

He stepped down first, and Anna watched him speak to a tall woman in a dark dress who had come down the front, likely the housekeeper.

Rachel helped Anna out, keeping hold of her hand for a moment longer than necessary. “All right?” she asked.

“Yes,” Anna said, which was true enough.

The staff had assembled in the entrance hall. They were not lined up in the formal way of some great houses, but gathered, the way a household gathers when its master arrives without warning at half past ten at night. Perhaps a dozen of them, all looking at the duke.