Chapter 20
“You did not take much convincing!” Maria said in a voice that was louder than polite society deemed pleasant.
The ladies were laughing uproariously at Anna when she told them of her antics, but it was all in good fun. They were pleased for her, especially Maria, who was smiling widely at it all.
“I tried to keep my defenses up,” Anna protested, “but I could not help myself. He has been so good as a husband, and he has been opening up to me.”
“So you are opening up to him?” Maria joked, and Anna threw a cushion at her.
“I shall be most unwell if this continues,” Theodora huffed. “You are all catching this terrible disease of enjoying the company of men, and I cannot stomach it.”
“I certainly can,” Maria retorted. “I think it is lovely that Anna is happy. If anything, it means that I can enjoy my own marriage without feeling guilty for doing so. I want this for all of us, as you know.”
“I do not quite have what you do,” Anna said quickly. “It is only very early, and we have not done too much together, but it is enjoyable. I like where it is going, too, and I believe that he feels the same way.”
“Is that to say that he will not be leaving this time?” Evelina asked. “I rather like the sound of that.”
Anna bit her lip, her grip on her book tightening. She knew that he did not intend to stay forever, but it would at least be easier than before. This time, at least, she knew something about where he was going.
“He has to continue to separate his time between here and the north,” she said carefully. “You must all keep this information in this room, of course, but he has family there, and his presence is required for their sake.”
“So there is no mistress?”
“He has told me that there is not, and I am inclined to believe him. He spoke with conviction, and I like to believe that I would know if he was lying to me.”
“Then we will believe him,” Maria nodded.
“You are only saying that because you want to like him,” Theodora snapped.
Anna blinked. Theodora had defended Spencer before, and she seemed to like him, but that day she had arrived and was acting as though she loathed him entirely.
Anna wondered what had changed, but it would have to wait.
They had too much to discuss in terms of the book, and though she was interested in what was troubling her friend, it was apparent that Theodora did not want to talk about it.
Her friend’s temper only seemed to worsen as they read.
There were many lurid scenes, where the lady was thrown onto the bed and ravished with great furor or draped over a settee and taken gently in the middle of the night.
As Spencer had hoped, Anna was very much inspired by it all, but she watched as Theodora’s lip curled more and more.
When the meeting was coming to an end, Anna motioned to Maria and Evelina to wait outside for a moment, which they did. Theodora had slammed her book closed and was sitting still, furious.
“What is it?” Anna asked, sitting beside her. “I know that something is troubling you.”
“It is nothing.”
“No? Then why have you scowled throughout the meeting?”
Theodora did not move, nor did her face change at all. Anna sighed, laughing softly.
“Theodora, I know that this is not what you expected, and I am aware that I have changed very suddenly, but I am still myself. Nothing has changed about our club.”
“But it has,” Theodora huffed. “It was one thing to have an older sister who had been married, who was afforded all of the benefits of being a wife with the freedoms of a widow. And I could accept having a sister who had gotten what she needed as well as a friend who had fallen helplessly in love with a wonderful man.”
“I know how that felt.”
“Precisely, but what you do not understand is that now you have joined them. The two of them are perfectly happy, and you and I had that desire for the same in common. We were the unfortunate two who had not gotten what we wanted, and that meant that I was not alone. Now that His Grace has decided to be a husband to you, it is as though all is forgotten and all is well.”
“That is not true! I have made him earn my trust, and I am all the happier for it. I would have thought that you would be pleased about that. You are my friend, after all.”
“It is because I am your friend that I am concerned. I do not dislike His Grace, but I cannot help but feel that he will not always be this way. If he disappoints you again, I do not want it to be while you trust him. You are giving yourself to him, and that is as it should be, but what if he abandons you again?”
Anna did not like that her friend’s response to her happiness was to question its longevity, but she understood why Theodora felt the way that she did. It was precarious, and Anna had to admit that she had doubts of her own.
But she was not going to give in to them. She wanted to have faith in Spencer. They had both made mistakes, but they were trying, and that was what she had to focus on. She did not want to punish him forever, not when he was doing all that he could.
“I know what I am doing,” she assured Theodora. “If he leaves again, and he does not do so without telling me, then I shall do what I did last time. I shall swear off men for the rest of my life, and I will do what is necessary to be myself again. I will not be hurt.”
“But you will be. You were bad enough before you fell for him, but now that you have it, it will be much worse. I can only hope that you have given him your trust correctly.”
“I truly do believe that I have.”
There was silence for a moment. Anna did not think that her friend was convinced, but it would come in time.
If anything, she was grateful to have friends who cared about her so much.
Not every lady was as fortunate as she was, and though she would have liked their complete support, she had to admit that it was better that they were thinking of her.
“Well,” Theodora said, smiling at last, “in any case, we will be there for you. I do want to be wrong, Anna, believe me.”
“I know. I want you to be wrong about him too, for I am truly happy with how things are.”
They joined the other two in the gardens, and the four of them walked for a while.
It was nice; Anna had been spending more time with Spencer, which had meant seeing less of her friends, and so it was good to spend an enjoyable time with them on the estate.
With Theodora in higher spirits, the four of them were able to enjoy themselves far more, acting like girls more than ladies as they raced up and down the grounds.
The three of them left later that day with untamed hair and wide smiles, even Theodora, and all of the tension from earlier that day had been forgotten.
Anna said her goodbyes and left to dress for dinner, planning to wear a silvery gown, the thinnest and most delicate she had.
She planned to tempt him that night and to spend dinner discussing the scenes she had read, as well as other topics that were most inappropriate for a meal.
When she arrived in the dining room, however, she felt a change in the air.
Spencer was sitting there, and he acknowledged her when she entered the room, but he did not seem particularly pleased to see her, nor did he pull out her chair for her.
She took her seat and eyed him carefully, trying to ascertain some information just by looking at him.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“You seem rather tense. Were we too loud this afternoon? I did notice that you did not come to greet them, nor to say goodbye.”
“Oh, no, no, you were all fine. My apologies, I had a lot of correspondence, and I was still reading it when they left. Did they think ill of me for it?”
“Not at all. Well, Theodora seems to think that you are going to disappoint me, but I assured her that we are happy.”
He did not respond, and she decided that his not saying anything was a good sign. It was the perfect opportunity, after all, to say that something was amiss, and it was her fault.
“Were your letters from tenants?” she asked. “If so, you should keep them to show to the trustees. It would show that you know what to do, and prove you to be a capable duke.”
“I suppose you are right, though it does not feel that way. It feels as though everything is going wrong at once, and though it can be mended for the most part…”
His voice trailed off, and Anna gave him a moment to continue.
But it was clear that he would not. Whatever he was about to say, he had clearly thought better of it.
It was strange, for the man she had known for the past while would have told her how beautiful she looked, and be desperate to touch her gown, and to touch what lay beneath it.
But this man did not seem to care whether or not she was there at all, and it was baffling, but she knew how she felt after hours of reading and writing.
He was likely exhausted, and she had to give him grace for it.
She did not envy that he was now charged with all of it again, for she had not enjoyed doing it herself.
“I suppose you might like to go to bed after dinner,” she said quietly. “I was hoping that we might play cards, but I can see that you are not in any fit state for it.”
“No, I would be more than happy to, if you wish.”
He had said it quickly, with slightly too much enthusiasm to be believable, but it was what Anna wanted to hear, and so she did not question it too much.
She also noticed that he hardly ate anything during the meal, and that he left most of what he had taken, but again she ignored it.
If their marriage was to work, she had to trust him, and she truly did want to.
Since his return, he had been trying, and she could not hold that first year against him forever.
She had to forgive him, and she so desperately wanted to.
After they had eaten, they went to the parlor room to play cards as requested, but again, there were no eager touches, no hint of desire for her. She had gone so long without it, and now that she had tasted it, she did not want to lose it, and yet she had to reason with herself that he was tired.
They played a game of Whist first. It was Anna’s favorite, and so it was no surprise to her that she won easily.
Spencer at least appeared to be trying to win, and he was kind enough at the end of it, but his spark was missing.
Anna watched him carefully during the second game.
The dull eyes, the distracted gaze… he did not care at all.
When she won the second game, she faked a yawn, taking the cards and putting them away.
“We can play again,” Spencer suggested.
“Do not worry. I can see that you need rest, and I do not want you to force yourself to stay awake for my sake. You will likely have things planned for tomorrow, and I would prefer you to be rested.”
He shifted in his seat, and at last Anna could not make excuses for him. Something was wrong, and she needed to know what it was, even if it bothered him.
“What is it?” she asked, her tone firm. “You have been like this all evening, as though you are afraid to meet my eye. If I have not done anything to warrant this, then what is it?”
“Anna, it is not as simple as that.”
“Why not? At lunch, you told me that you had had strong words with your friend, but you were in high spirits all the same. Since then, you have changed completely, and I deserve to know why, especially when it has affected our evening the way it has.”
“Then would you have preferred me to eat separately?”
“No, I want you to tell me what has happened. I do not want you to be like this without me knowing why. It is not fair.”
He was looking everywhere but at her, and she willed him to tell her the truth. With how he was acting, she knew that it was not good. Suddenly, she wondered if she should have listened to Theodora, rather than placing her faith in him.
“If I tell you, you cannot be angry, for you told me you would not be.”
Her heart sank, knowing that it could only possibly be one thing. It was the only thing that he had promised her, and the only thing that she had been trying to make herself believe that he would not do.
“Very well,” she replied, knowing what he was going to say. “I will not be angry with you. What is it?”
“I received a letter today. I am to leave in the morning.”
Even though she was anticipating it, her heart pounded as he said it.
He had received the letter with his correspondence, which meant that he had known all afternoon and had not told her.
He had let her speak of her faith in him, of her belief that he would not abandon her again, and he knew that he was going to do precisely that.
And she was furious, but she could not show it.
She knew that he would leave eventually, but she had asked that he tell her in advance. It was the night before, but it was beforehand all the same, and he had told her where he was to go. North again. Without her.