Chapter 28
“Ido not know what you see in my brother,” Sophia laughed softly as their horses walked along the path.
In spite of her demeanor, Anna wanted to like Sophia. She was a pretty girl, almost identical to Spencer, and she had the same stubborn pride as he did. Unfortunately, that meant that she was stuck between two people who were at times impossible to reason with.
“He is a gentleman,” she replied. “He knows what is expected of him, and he does it well.”
“With the exception of his not coming to do his duty as Duke.”
“Ah. He told you about all of that.”
“I did not give him a choice. I could not believe what I was hearing. He spends all of his time with me, as though I need it.”
“Do you… Do you not?”
It was a risk to ask such a question, for Anna knew that if she asked too much, a wall would be put up, but Sophia merely sighed and then laughed, albeit shakily.
“I would not say that I need him. It is easier with him there, for I can do more things, but I do not need him. Look at me now, for example. I am riding a horse even though I cannot see well. I must go slower than you, that is all.”
“It is true that you are capable. Would it be alright if I asked what the issue is?”
“Of course, I am not ashamed of it. It started when I was a girl, and it has gradually worsened. It is not that I am completely blind, but it is difficult to see things that are far away. If you close your eyes halfway, it is almost like that.”
Anna did as Sophia instructed, but only briefly, for she no longer felt safe on her horse doing so. Everything blurred, one shape blending into another until she no longer knew what she was looking at. It made her feel a great sense of unease, and she did not know how Sophia coped.
“I did not like that at all,” she gasped.
“It is not particularly nice, I will say, but you grow accustomed to it. I have told Spencer many times that I do not need him, and that I am perfectly fine alone, but now that Gilbert is unwell, I have had to accept defeat. I never wanted to intrude, Anna.”
“I can see that. I think that, had either of us known of the other, this would have all been mended long ago. I do not know what my husband was thinking.”
“He was thinking that he could fix everything without either of us ever having to know what was happening. You may not know this, but my brother has a tendency to rescue people. He cannot help himself.”
The air was warm considering the time of year, and Anna felt herself lighten at the explanation for her husband’s behavior. However, there was that same familiar pang of envy, for if Spencer was so determined to help others, why not her?
“Might I ask you another question?” she asked tentatively.
“Do you wish to know how I came to be, or my son?”
“Both, but more so you. I know how a lady can come to be with child.”
“I am no lady,” she said quietly before straightening.
“Well, Spencer and I have the same father. The ton thought that the Duke and Duchess were a perfect match, and that they were happier than any other marriage in London, but they were wrong. The truth was that our father never loved a woman. He did not know how.”
“That can be said for most gentlemen, I would say.”
“He was a rake. He had a lengthy engagement to Spencer’s mother, for he promised her that once the ring was on her finger, he would be loyal to her. She did not come from wealth, and so she assumed that a duke would be her savior. He was in a way, I suppose.”
“As for you?”
“I was already there. He knew that I had been born, for my mother had written to him, but he did not care. Had I been a boy, he might have made a plan of sorts so that I was accepted, pretended I was younger than I was so that he could marry my mother and claim I was not his bastard.”
“If that had worked.”
“Yes, if,” she murmured. “In any case, not only was I a girl, but it was apparent that something was wrong with me. Long before they learned of my visual impairment, I was a sickly child. Do you know what the late Duke said when he heard that? He said he hoped I succumbed to my illnesses. That way, I would not cause any trouble.”
Anna could barely breathe at her words. Spencer had not spoken ill of his father, though he had not spoken particularly highly of him either, and so she had assumed there was nothing objectively terrible about him, but there was.
“What did Spencer have to say about that?”
“He does not know. He feels enough guilt about it as it is. If he knew just how little our father cared for me, he would never let me out of his sight, which would drive me to madness.”
“But surely you understand that he does this because he cares for you?”
“Of course I do. The part that I take issue with is that he does know how I wish to be cared for. He sees my predicament and assumes that I am completely helpless.”
Instinctively, she seemed to quicken her horse’s pace, only to slow it again.
Anna tried not to pity her, but it was difficult; to slowly lose part of herself until there was almost nothing left, all the while trying to maintain that she was just as capable as before must have been excruciating, but she seemed to take it in stride.
“Well, what do you need from us?” Anna asked. “I know that you want independence, but Spencer and I truly do want you to be close. If anything, I would like to have a sister and a nephew that I can see. You would be doing me a favor, so what would you like in return?”
“You humor me.”
“I hope so, but I am serious. I do not want you to be too far away, and I want to know what I can do to help you feel as though you need not be.”
They continued in silence for a moment. Sophia was looking straight ahead of her, as if contemplating, and Anna wondered what she was thinking. She hoped that it would not be a refusal, mostly for her sake but also for more selfish reasons.
She did not want to lose Spencer again, which was almost certainly what would happen if Sophia left. Spencer had made it perfectly clear that he preferred his sister, and she felt rather pathetic accepting the scraps of adoration that he offered at times, but she wanted him to stay.
It was all she had ever wanted, which she had not truly realized until that moment.
“I would like to have a maid,” Sophia replied at last. “I had a housekeeper, but she only knew how to handle the home. She did not care for me nor my son specifically, which made everything more difficult.”
“A maid,” Anna nodded. “Consider it done.”
“And a larger home,” she continued. “I know that might not be the easiest thing to grant, but it would perhaps also make my brother less inclined to see me as often as he does now. He was always afraid that the little home I was left in was too cramped, too dark, and he always wanted to ensure that we were well.”
“I would have to agree. I do not want either of you in a home that is not fit for purpose. I would not dream of sending you somewhere that I would not live in myself.”
“And I believe that is all, as long as my darling brother does not come knocking on my door every day. I know I sound cruel.”
“Not at all. It is only fair that you have your own life without practically living with your younger brother.”
“But it is more than that,” she pressed.
“I have never told him, but he must know. He is identical to our father. I only ever saw the man in a painting, but it was enough. Every time I look at Spencer, I see the man who threw me aside in favor of a life with his wife and son. I do not suppose that you see him any differently.”
Anna opened her mouth to argue the contrary, but she could not.
That was, indeed, how she saw Spencer at times.
She wanted to be loved by him, but he had always been too busy elsewhere, and though he claimed to have thought of her, his actions proved otherwise.
She was angry with him, and though she thought that she had let it all go, she knew that some resentment remained.
“I thought so,” Sophia nodded. “Come, let us return. I have given you my demands if the two of you want us to stay here. I know what will happen, though. In order to save face, I will be hidden away.”
“That is not what we want at all. We are trying to find a way for you to remain in London, if anything, for we do not want to lose you.”
Sophia raised an eyebrow at her as they turned back, as if she did not believe her at all.
“You do not know me, Anna.”
“Perhaps not, but I should like to, and that is not possible if you are hundreds of miles away. You are here, and you are telling me about yourself, and that is making more of a difference than you could possibly know.”
“Then perhaps I might tell you about my son?”
“I would like that very much.”
“Very well, but I will warn you that it does not show your husband in the best light.”
“Not very much about what he has done will do that.”
Sophia laughed sadly and then cleared her throat. She explained that a man had seduced her, promising to take care of her.
“It happened before Spencer discovered my existence,” she explained. “Our father had made every effort to keep him from knowing about me, although I had always known precisely who he was. I never wanted to speak to him, but…”
“So he has not known who you are for long.”
“Not at all. If I had my way, he never would have found out about me at all, but that is not how things happened. When I became pregnant, the man I fancied myself in love with abandoned me. He did not want a child, nor did he want me. At last, he admitted that I was only entertainment and nothing more. That was when I realized that I had no other choice but to find my dear brother.”
Anna inhaled sharply, hating that men could simply decide to do that.
“Spencer had to act fast,” Sophia continued. “That was why he– well, that was why he married you. He needed to cover the scandal of it all, and the best way to do that was to get married and have a duchess to take care of everything while he looked after his sister elsewhere.”
“Is that why you thought I would dislike him?” Anna chuckled. “Believe me, I never once thought that he loved me when our wedding was arranged. He had made it quite clear to my father that it was a marriage in name only.”
“I assumed as much, but that does not mean that it is acceptable. Are you truly happy to live the rest of your life being referred to as a duty to society and nothing more?”
“That is not what my marriage is now, Sophia. I thank you for your concern, but we have changed since our wedding day.”
But she could tell by the way Sophia looked that there was something more to it that she was not saying. There was almost a guilt in her eyes, and Sophia could not look at her.
“What is it?”
“If I tell you, you must not say anything to my brother. I would like to discuss it with him myself.”
“Very well.”
“He told me yesterday that you were a duty and nothing else. He said that you were the only reason that people had not questioned his absence, and that I had much to be grateful to you for.”
Anna thought back to what they had done the night before, and bristled.
“When did he say that?” she asked tentatively.
“Just before you returned. I told him that I did not want to come between you, and he told me there was no love there at all.”
Anna was growing tired of feeling ill because of her own husband, but it happened again. She thought of how he had gone to her room that night, spoken gently to her, touched her, made love to her, and he had considered it all part of his duty.
And she, like a fool, had professed her feelings. It was no wonder that he had not said anything in return; he did not feel anything for her to begin with.
But she had promised not to say a word about it, and so she stiffened herself as they continued on their way.
When they returned, she saw Spencer holding the boy in his arms, but she did not find it as attractive as she had before.
She wondered if that was an act too, if he was playing the role of brother because he had to rather than it being what he truly wanted, but she knew that was untrue.
He did care for Sophia, but not for her.
“How was it?” he asked her, after Sophia had taken her son from him.
“I wish to stay in separate rooms again,” she said, not wanting to respond to his question.
She hoped that he would ask her what had happened, or protest, or give her anything at all to make her believe that she had gotten it wrong, but he did not. Instead, he simply murmured in agreement and left her standing in the empty hallway.
Her household had never been fuller, and yet she had never felt so alone.