Chapter 4
“The Wuthering Duke has returned!”
Spencer’s greatest friend, Alexander Kendall, was most pleased to see him again, and Spencer was happier than he expected to see his friend in return.
A fellow duke, Alexander, understood the pressure that he was under more than anyone else Spencer knew, and that made it easier to trust him than the others in society.
Alexander had also known a scandal of his own, which gave them something to bond over.
“I cannot believe what my wife did,” he sighed, pouring two glasses of brandy. “I had not intended to return yet.”
“But you must admit, it was a beautiful party last night. Besides, your story was brilliant. There shall be few repercussions from all of this, believe me.”
Spencer gritted his teeth as he took a drink. It was true; his reasoning for his sudden return had been good enough to quell any rumors, but that did not mean that he could so easily forgive his wife.
It was also entirely possible that the rumors would continue. For the moment, they all understood that Anna had truly believed he had been killed, but that would only last so long before questions were asked, and it all started again.
“Well, let us hope that nobody in the North claims to have seen me,” he sighed. “My dramatic tale in Africa is difficult to believe as it is, what with my miraculous recovery from a mysterious illness, without my presence elsewhere being heard of.”
“You should write the story down one day, I rather think. The passion in it was unbearable. Sending a letter in the midst of your sickness to explain that you were going to die, only to have lived after all and come back for your love, it is something ladies would positively swoon for.”
“It had to be believable. I cannot help that I am a brilliant actor.”
“You could have fooled even me. Come now, Wutherton. I know that you enjoy writing, so why not make it into a book? It would make a small fortune, especially given your standing.”
“Do not remind me of books. It is enough that I am currently hosting that dreadful club of hers.”
“They are harmless. Opinionated, yes, but they are only reading.”
While true, Spencer did not like that he had to hide away in his study with his friend while his wife had free rein of the drawing room as she hosted her club.
He could have left his study if he wanted to, of course, but he had only had one conversation with Anna and did not have the stomach to meet her strange friends.
From what he heard at the party the night before, they were not good influences on her, which made sense to him.
With the exception of one, they were bluestocking spinsters who hated men and practically everything that they did.
It was no wonder that his wife did not respect him in the way he wanted her to. In any way at all, most probably.
“Her father told me that she was accomplished and demure,” Spencer huffed. “That is not what I see at all.”
“I see no fault with her. She is passionate, which is certainly not a flaw. She also seems well-read, and she can plan an excellent soiree. All traits of a good duchess, do you not agree?”
“Of course, but they are not traits I saw in her before. The lady I married was quiet, accepting of the fact that I would be absent. She was not this reckless woman who would go to such extremes just to summon me home again.”
“So you told her just how absent you would be?”
He grimaced, for of course he had not. He had not meant to be away for as long as he had been, and even if he had known, he could not have told her that. If he did, he would have had to explain why, and he could not do that. She could not know the truth.
“She should have trusted me. I am her husband.”
“You are a stranger,” Alexander pointed out. “You left her the same day you met, and from what I assume, you did not tell her much about you to begin with.”
“You know that I had a prior commitment. I have to see Sophia, and Anna should understand that. We are family, after all.”
“And if you told her, then she would. In any case, by your logic, if she should trust you as her husband, you must also trust her as your wife. If you explain the true circumstances that you are in, she might be able to help you. She would understand, at least.”
“Alas, we shall never know for certain. What I have is a marriage of convenience, and there is therefore no need to disclose everything. I am her husband, and she will obey me whether she likes it or not.”
He then thought about what he had said. He was normally respectful, but the idea of compelling his spirited wife to obey him was strangely attractive to him, as was the thought of her creamy skin laid bare, her curls disheveled.
He cleared his throat, hoping that it would clear his mind in turn.
“What I mean,” he corrected, “is that I have done what a proper husband should and tended to the havoc that she wreaked. In return, I need her to try harder to be a good wife to me.”
“Yes, marriages require give and take, or so I have heard.”
“Of course, you can say that. You are not married.”
“And I have no intention of ever being, which makes me unbiased,” Alexander grinned, finishing his drink. “You have been very honorable in taking a wife, but I shall never do that.”
“And what of your title? Is it not important to you?”
“When I am in the ground, I do not think that I will mind whether or not I have a bloodline remaining.”
Spencer had never quite understood that aspect of his friend, but then he assumed there were a lot of things that he did that his friend could not understand either.
It was something that made their friendship interesting, for as much as Spencer wanted to be respected, he could not stand it when people blindly agreed with him because of who he was.
“You could be very happy, you know,” Alexander continued. “Your wife is nearby, and right now you could be sitting with her, asking her friends about themselves. It would be a good way to introduce yourself.”
“They saw enough of me last night, I rather think.”
“Did you speak to them?”
“I did not. The party ended too quickly for that, not that you seemed to notice. I do not recall seeing you, strangely enough.”
“I was there!” he countered. “I would never have missed the funeral celebrations of my dearest friend. However, it just so happened that there was a lady there, and–”
“I do not need to hear anything more. I can already assume what happened from there. Was this one married?”
“They never are. This one was widowed, and seeing your wife’s behavior about her apparently dead husband was a source of confusion for her.”
“It was the same for me, if you can believe it.”
“It was not as though you gave her a choice, Wutherton. She did what she had to do, and just because you are unhappy with how she handled matters does not mean that she was wrong.”
Spencer considered that, but only for a moment.
He knew that he was being unfair, and that he should have explained where he was going, but he could not help but feel as though his wife needed some discipline.
There was a mischief about her, and though he was drawn to it, he could not help but wonder where that trait of hers had come from.
Not only that, but how much damage she had done with it.
“I ought to speak with her,” Spencer agreed. “It has been a long time, and I hardly knew her as it was when we married. It is only fair that I give her time to tell me how she has been.”
“If it is anything, she seems to have done well. From whispers, it would seem that she has not needed you at all. She acts as any other duchess would.”
“That is to say?”
“That she receives guests, she goes out in society, she speaks highly of you in public, and she is frankly a rather upstanding member of society, save for her tendency to… well, to have opinions.”
Spencer raised an eyebrow, wondering if that was as bad as he expected.
Regardless, he would have to see her that night. He could not postpone their meeting endlessly, and as long as he was home, he did not want to. He was not avoiding her out of cruelty, after all; it was for the best that he kept her at a distance, but it was not because he hated her.
“I have made quite the mess myself, have I not?” he asked, chuckling. “Truly, a pair we are.”
“Better matched than you expected, in any case,” Alexander laughed. “She will be understanding, I assure you.”
“You say that as though you know her well. She would not happen to be one of your friends, would she?”
“Not her,” he replied firmly. “Never a married woman.”
Spencer did not doubt that. In spite of how his friend was perceived, he was an honorable man.
“Very well,” he nodded. “Their meeting should not last much longer. Would you like to meet her properly?”
“I see no harm in it, as long as she does not bite.”
“I cannot truthfully say either way,” Spencer replied honestly. “I suppose we shall have to see for ourselves.”
Fortunately, when they went to find her, her club meeting had finished, and her friends had left. Anna was sitting alone, reading with a smile on her lips. Once again, Spencer caught himself admiring her.
Anna’s father had told him she was no beauty, but in the quiet moments when she did not think anyone was looking at her, she shone.
Her brown eyes caught a golden spark of lamplight, and her dark brows, drawn together in concentration, gave her face a focused appeal that not all the simpers in the ton could match.
Her hands were lovely, too. She held a page between her fingers and thumb delicately, turning it when she was done and placing the book upside down on a side table to save her space.
“May I help you, gentlemen?”
“I wanted to present you to my friend,” Spencer explained, suddenly finding it harder than usual to speak.
Anna rose to her feet, curtseying and greeting Alexander. To Spencer’s annoyance, his friend launched into conversation with her, his charm on full display. He was most charismatic when he wanted to be, and Spencer wondered just why he had decided that was a good time for it.
“I must say,” Alexander laughed warmly, “that plan of yours was brilliant. Had I known that was all it took to bring His Grace home, I would have done so months ago.”
“As would I,” she replied softly. “My apologies, but my husband has yet to tell me of you.”
“Then I shall do it for him,” he replied, giving Spencer a pitiful look. “Alexander Kendall, Duke of Hawthorne.”
Anna’s eyes widened, and Spencer knew at once that she had heard the rumors. Everyone had, by that point, and in an instant, she almost looked scandalized simply by speaking with him.
“I-I have heard so much about you.”
“Most have, but they do not know the truth, which is far more interesting and far less appropriate for polite company.”
She flushed pink, and Spencer felt heat rising in him. His friend was a flirt, and he had never minded that, but now that he was using his usual tactics with his wife, it was… different. Alexander should know better.
“His Grace was on his way out,” Spencer explained. “I was thinking we would have dinner together tonight?”
“That would be a start,” she agreed, and Spencer took Alexander outside. “I will see you then.”
The moment they were outdoors, Spencer turned to his friend, who was on the verge of exploding with laughter.
“I knew it!” he said victoriously.
“What were you doing?” Spencer demanded. “I thought that you refrained from acting in such a manner with married ladies.”
“And for the most part, that is the truth. However, there are times when a man must be shown the consequences of your actions.”
He looked at Alexander incredulously, but he was only faced with a placid expression in response.
“If you do not treasure her,” he warned, “another man will. Is that what you want, Wutherton?”
“Of course not. She is my wife, and she will act accordingly.”
“And how, pray tell, do you plan to be in response?”
His friend left him at that moment and went to his carriage.
Spence remained still for a moment, wishing that he had not chosen a friend as wise as he was.
Had Alexander been immature, he would have encouraged him to do as he wanted, and they could have pretended that it was for the best, but now he had been told that he was wrong, which meant he had to change.
And yet, he knew perfectly well that he could not.
He turned back to the house, remembering that he had asked his wife to join him for dinner. He had not planned to, but he had to lay his claim somehow. He did not know why he was as jealous as he had been, for she was his wife, but he needed to remind his friend of that.
Or, perhaps, he wished to remind her.