Duke of Lust (Sinful Dukes #3)

Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

“ Y ou must know why I am here, Duke Frederick,” Stephen said stiffly and without preamble as Frederick joined him in the drawing room at Heartwick Hall.

Having spent the night first riding, then ravishing Annabelle as far as his honor allowed before traveling as secretly as possible back and forth to London to return her, Frederick had barely slept.

The last thing he had wanted this morning was a guest, and the last guest he wanted to see was Lord Emberly. However, by turning up on his doorstep unannounced, the man had left him little choice.

Annabelle’s older brother had been pacing by the mantelpiece when Frederick entered the room, and still stood beside it now, unhappy and unsettled. Oddly, that was rather how Frederick felt too, although for very different reasons.

“Please do sit, Stephen,” he opened as pleasantly as he could, as if he had not heard Lord Emberly’ challenging first words. “Shall I ring for refreshments?”

“There is no need, in reference to either of those suggestions. Do not play games with me, Frederick. I’ve come here for the truth and I intend to have it.”

Frederick stifled a yawn, not wishing to insult or antagonize the other man unduly.

“Stephen, I am very tired. Far too tired to follow whatever you might be implying, in fact. I can better answer your questions if you put them to me directly.”

“Very well, if that is how you intend to play it,” Lord Emberly replied. “What exactly is between you and my sister Annabelle?”

His tone was quietly furious and his eyes like gimlets as he posed this question. While it was common enough to see Stephen irritated or disapproving, the open expression of anger was more unusual. Did Stephen think that the Duke of Heartwick would quail under aggressive questioning? Perhaps a lesser man might have done but Frederick, despite his charm and sociability, was not a lesser man.

“Again?” the Duke of Heartwick returned calmly. “You ask me this again? I thought we had already discussed the matter, established that your sister’s virtue was intact, and you had decreed that Annabelle should no longer visit Heartwick Hall. Was that not your recollection?”

“You have not answered my question,” Lord Emberly shot back. “I believe you are being deliberately evasive.”

Yes, Frederick was, and he knew it. He didn’t have the right words to describe what was between him and Annabelle now. He only knew that it was delightful, compulsive and forbidden by the world, even though it brought them both so much natural joy. And pain…

He closed his eyes briefly, remembering the hurt that had lanced through him when Annabelle confessed that Lord Darrington had made her an offer and she was considering it. The fact that Oswald Quince professed to want only a marriage of convenience had not dulled the pain. Unlike Annabelle, Frederick could not believe in such an intention for a moment.

“Well? After the long years of friendship between our families, the least you owe me is an answer, damn it, Frederick!” Lord Emberly’ voice rose now, likely considering Frederick’s silence as deliberate insolence rather than consideration.

Frederick looked his friend straight in the eyes.

“Have you considered that I am being respectful?” he said.

“Respectful?” Lord Emberly scoffed.

“Yes, respectful of Annabelle. I cannot stop you from treating her like a foolish child but I am not going to collaborate in it either. I shall not talk about her with you further. She is an adult woman and it’s time you accepted that.”

This approach threw Lord Emberly off-track. Likely he had expected denials, lies, explanations and even wanted apologies, but he was unprepared for Frederick to refuse to discuss Annabelle at all – and for a respectable if unconventional reason.

It occurred to Frederick to wonder exactly how much Stephen might actually know. Something had certainly sent him rushing over to Heartwick Hall only shortly after the breakfast hour, but was it merely a suspicion?

“If you have real concerns about Annabelle, then the first person you should talk to is Annabelle,” he suggested reasonably.

“Annabelle is still in bed. If I didn’t know that she had been out somewhere at dawn, I might even think she was ill. I want to know where she was this morning, damn it all!”

“Stephen, this is ridiculous. Won’t Annabelle be a married woman soon enough? Are you going to let her grow up then?”

Frederick quickly realized that he had gone too far in his efforts to reason with his friend and made an error in mentioning Annabelle’s prospective engagement. Lord Emberly, however, did not miss the slip and seized on it instantly.

“So you know of Lord Darrington’s proposal? Annabelle told you presumably, at some point in the last twenty-four hours. Did she write you a note or did you see her in person?”

“I have advised her to accept him,” Frederick stated flatly, without addressing the issue of when or where.

“What?! You what?”

He at least had the satisfaction of throwing Lord Emberly for a second time, even though reminding himself of his own advice made him feel slightly ill.

“Are you perhaps only jealous that she sought my advice instead of yours, Lord Emberly?” Frederick asked, losing some of his goodwill in the waves of his own tightly bound and unexpressed distress.

“I gave Annabelle the same advice,” Stephen snapped. “Why she should want yours is beyond me, Frederick, but at least we are of one mind on this. It still doesn’t tell me, however, where she was this morning.”

“I cannot help you with that,” the Duke of Heartwick said staunchly.

“Well, I will not have this match with Darrington ruined by your meddling and bad influence. Do you understand?”

Frederick exhaled loudly, his patience fraying badly. While Lord Emberly might not know it, this conversation about Annabelle’s future was as painful to Frederick as it clearly was to him. Presently, he wished it only to end, and then decided to end it.

“Stephen, listen to me. Annabelle is about to marry another man and I am wishing them every happiness. I have no intention of ruining anything or anyone. Why does that not satisfy you?”

It was a rhetorical question really, posed by Frederick to himself more than to Stephen. Leaving his guest to show himself out, he stormed away to his suite upstairs.

Why did it not satisfy him? Why could he not be truly happy for Annabelle? Why did everything have to be so hard?

“Annabelle, I insist that we must talk…” said Lord Emberly tersely as he tried to simultaneously hand his outdoor clothing to a maid and

His younger sister, however, seemed barely to hear him. Annabelle seemed to be moving in a dream today, her face strange and disconnected in some way that prevented his displeasure or concerns from reaching her at all. At the same time, she also seemed more mature now, rendering his agitation faintly ridiculous merely by shrugging them off.

“There you are, Stephen. I’ve been looking for you all morning. Lord Darrington will be coming to Colborne House to call on us at three o’clock this afternoon. If you weren’t back by luncheon, I was going to send word to cancel his call.”

“Of course he must come. We have plenty of time now for luncheon, don’t we? Lord Darrington must be impatient for your answer, Annabelle. I hope you have given it the attention it deserves and are ready to answer respectfully.”

Annabelle smiled faintly and shook her head slightly, again giving him the sense of a greater and more adult assurance than he had seen in her before.

“I have summoned Oswald in order to formally accept his offer, Stephen –not the other way around. I wanted you there in order that the arrangements may be made as soon as is feasible. I know the marriage contract is not always a simple affair, but as I am my father’s only daughter and Oswald has few demands, I hope it will be straightforward.”

Frederick’s infuriating lecturing about Annabelle being a woman rather than a child came back to Stephen again as she spoke. This certainly seemed to be a sensible adult decision, and a cause for celebration in the Elkins’ family. Together with her manner, it made it impossible for him to speak to her as sternly as he had planned in the coach on the way back from Heartwick Hall.

He had been so sure when he set off in his coach before breakfast that Annabelle had somewhere and somehow been with Frederick, but her announcement now shook this belief even more than Frederick’s apparent equanimity in the face of her potential marriage. Had he only made a show of himself on a fool’s errand?

Most likely Annabelle had taken a walk alone in the Colborne Hose gardens at dawn in order to think over Lord Darrington’s proposal and come to the right decision. It was Stephen who had been impulsive and rash, not Annabelle…

“My dear sister, may I be the first to congratulate you?” he offered, kissing her cheek by way of unspoken apology. “I know Mother and Father will both be delighted when I write to them, although I should warn you that I think it unlikely they will be able to attend a wedding this summer.”

“Thank you. I would not expect anything very big in the way of a wedding celebration anyway, Stephen. It would not seem right with Father so ill. Oswald and I would go to Norfolk to visit them instead, as soon as we are married, if he agrees to that, and I’m sure he will.”

Stephen nodded, pleased at Annabelle’s consideration and understanding. He knew that many young women would expect a day of pomp and circumstance with the bride at its centre, or would at least be disappointed if family circumstances rendered such an event impossible. Annabelle, however, had no selfish or unreasonable expectations.

In fact, she and Lord Darrington both appeared intent on entering married life with minimal drama, fuss and disruption all round. That was something admirable…wasn't it?

“I’ll wait for you in the dining room for luncheon, Stephen if you want to freshen up. Did you go out anywhere important?”

“Not really,” Stephen answered a little cagily, hoping that he would not have to admit his embarrassing call on Frederick.

There was no need to worry, however. Annabelle accepted him at his word and drifted serenely away toward the dining room without further questions.

Stephen frowned slightly as he watched her go. He only wished he understood what was going on inside his sister’s head.

“Well if that is all acceptable to you, Lord Darrington, then I’m sure we can have the marriage contract finalized within a fortnight. I must say, it is a little unusual for a husband to settle so much authority and fortune on his wife, especially a woman as young as Annabelle.”

Lord Emberly sat back in his chair in the Colborne House drawing room, away from the small table where a handful of family papers lay, setting out the terms of Annabelle’s dowry and other related legal issues for Oswald Quince.

“Oh, it is not only acceptable. It is vital in my opinion, Lord Emberly,” laughed Oswald Quince kindly, seeming to understand, as Annabelle did, that her brother’s question sprang from concern for her rather than lack of respect. “What is marriage if not a partnership? It would be a terrible thing to marry a woman of poor judgement. I am choosing someone I can trust.”

“A partnership…I suppose so,” said Stephen thoughtfully. “Yes, it is, isn’t it? As well as being a merger of the interests of two families. I’ve never really thought about marriage like that. How interesting.”

Annabelle and Oswald looked at one another briefly with laughter in their eyes. Stephen was so very serious about everything, and seemingly so determined to protect every woman he knew that there was no opportunity for simple conversation. No wonder he himself had never come anywhere near marriage, despite his title, fortune and good looks hidden behind an old-fashioned manner.

“A small wedding as soon as the marriage contract is ready would suit me well,” Lord Darrington continued. “As I’ve told Annabelle, my best friend must join his regiment again soon and I would very much like Jacob to be my best man and part of the day.”

“A fine idea,” Stephen remarked. “Good friends are important in a man’s life, even when he marries.”

“I’m glad you agree,” said Oswald and then turned to the young woman with red-gold curls sitting rather silently, although not unhappily, on the sofa beside him.

“But Annabelle, are you absolutely sure that this is what you want? I can certainly tap up a friendly bishop and get a license for us to marry as soon as the ink is dry on the contract. However, we could equally wait until Jacob’s next leave, even if that isn’t for six months or a year. Don’t let my immediate convenience pressure your overall decision.”

“It is what I want, Oswald. If we are of the same mind and expectations, what difference will it make to start married life now or next year? I am also mindful of my father’s illness. Presently, the situation is calm and likely to remain so for some months but if there is another crisis, then Stephen will be called away and mattes will be harder to arrange.”

“Well, it seems to me that a quick wedding suits both families, in that case,” Stephen said. "Your pragmatism is most commendable Annabelle, and yours, Lord Darrington. There is none of this mad rushing about and undignified emotionalism that seem to be part of so many modern matches.”

“I believe we will be content together, Annabelle and I,” stated Oswald Quince, standing now and taking up the papers that Stephen had provided to pass on to the family lawyers for the wedding contract. “There is enough drama in life without our adding to it.”

“Life is hard and complicated enough,” Annabelle put in, nodding. “Why make it harder?”

She and Oswald smiled at one another again, sharing some inklings of the sad secrets that she knew Stephen couldn’t guess. Then, she remained in the drawing room and watched the street from the window while her brother showed her intended husband out of the house.

Stephen’s face was very occupied when he returned to the room.

“It seems we can leave most of the marriage contract to the lawyers, and the wedding license to Lord Darrington, but our family must still stir ourselves with our social obligations. I will write to our parents now and then there must be a notice in T he Times , and you and I must call on the vicar if you’re really set on the local church.”

Annabelle nodded. An hour in the local church followed by a small wedding breakfast at Colborne House was more than enough to solemnize and celebrate the kind of civilized arrangement she and Oswald had planned. Anything more than that might feel like an elaborate hoax they were playing on family and friends.

“We will also host a garden party, to formally share the news with relatives and friends. As the wedding itself is to be small, it will give those not invited the chance to congratulate you in person. It would be nothing too ostentatious, of course. With your assistance, I am sure we can manage that it here at Colborne House.”

“Do we really have to?” Annabelle questioned, wincing at the idea of having to face a hundred smiling faces, intrusive questions and well-intentioned pieces of advice on marriage.

“Yes, I believe we do,” stated her brother, firmly but in good humor. “There are also some older ladies, Great Aunt Margery for example, whom you must call on personally. Come Annabelle, you are normally the one who wishes for a larger social calendar and I am the one reining you in. I cannot believe that our positions have been so suddenly and inexplicably reversed.”

“It is only that I do not wish to spend a whole afternoon talking about the wedding and Oswald with all those people.”

“What a strange young woman you are, Annabelle! I thought that talk of weddings and husbands was the favorite topic of the ton’s young ladies.”

“I suggest you do not repeat that remark to Victoria Crawford,” Annabelle commented smartly and saw him swallow, but then she gave a long sigh and made herself smile and nod to her brother.

This was, after all, the very last time Stephen would have any input at all to her social life. She would soon be free, although the prospect did not seem as sweet now as it had once done.

“Never mind, I will do whatever you think best, Stephen. Tell Mother that my own letter will follow yours.”