Chapter Fifteen #2
“That was my father’s fault. Wanted to wash his hands of me, no doubt, since having a spinster in the family is a bit embarrassing.” Of course, it didn’t matter now, for she had made peace with her circumstances and was quite pleased with most of the situation.
“If he doesn’t do right by you or if he treats you badly, tell me,” he said as he took one of her hands and brought it to his lips.
When he kissed the back and lingered there a few seconds longer than needed, heat went through her cheeks from his daring.
“I favor brunettes, and you are quite enchanting.” As his gaze dropped to her décolletage, set off by the low golden bodice of her gown, a shiver moved down her spine.
Not long after that, Broderick was there, taking her hand and tugging Anne to her feet.
The red velvet skirting of her gown swished about her ankles.
“Is all well? Deviney isn’t bothering you, is he?
He’s quite the flirt at times.” There was a decided growl in his voice as he leveled a scowl on the duke.
She couldn’t help but laugh merrily. Flutters of need danced through her lower belly. “He is no bother, just being pleasant and sweet.”
“Bah.” Her husband shook his head.
Eggleton snorted. “Get off it, Udolpho. We all know of your interest in your wife, even if you continue to deny it.”
Had they privately discussed her as well as the marriage?
The Duke of Deviney chuckled. “Must not have that much interest because if she were mine, I wouldn’t be cooling my heels at a dinner party with my mates. Instead, I’d fuck the hell out of her until we both needed sleep or food.” He winked at Anne. “Pardon the vulgarity.”
Both Broderick and Eggleton protested the statement.
“Language, Deviney. There are ladies present,” Eggleton warned with narrowed eyes.
Her husband, on the other hand, stiffened beside her. “Watch your mouth, Your Grace, or else I’ll land you a facer.”
Anne laid a hand on his arm. “Hush, Broderick. He meant no harm.” But it was thrilling, nonetheless, to have him ready to fight for her.
Deviney merely chuckled. “Not three sheets, eh, Udolpho?” Since Anne didn’t know what that meant, but it caused her husband to scowl harder, the duke continued.
“Do me a favor and run downstairs to my library. There is an extensive selection of poetry on one of the shelves. Why don’t you select a volume so I can gift it to your lovely wife?
Perhaps she’ll think of me fondly when you read to her from it. ”
“Like hell, Deviney. Get your own woman.” Broderick crossed his arms at his chest and proceeded to glare.
It was as endearing as it was annoying. “It’s all in good fun,” she whispered as she laid a hand on his arm.
His muscles tensed beneath her fingertips.
“Do the errand for him. I promise I’ll go stand over with the other wives and put space between us while you’re gone. Will that put your mind at ease?”
“Fine.” Slowly, he relaxed. “But I’m only going because you wish it. Not because he does.”
“That goes without saying,” she said with a nod, while the two dukes exchanged a speaking glance behind Broderick’s back. Thank goodness he couldn’t see. “It’s Christmas Eve and we’re all having a lovely time. Don’t come the crab else I’ll make you sing carols with us later.”
When her husband left the room, Anne sighed. He was far too intense at times. Thankfully, Deviney left the sofa in favor of the sideboard, which allowed her the opportunity to talk with the Duke of Eggleton.
“I’m disappointed I couldn’t meet your wife tonight, Your Grace.”
He nodded, and the sadness in his eyes tugged at her chest. “Abigail decided not to come at the last minute. Said she suffered from a megrim.”
“Ah, well, those can be tricky.” She nodded and offered a soft smile. “You seem possessed of a myriad of emotions. I’m a good listener if you need help sorting out your thoughts.”
“While I appreciate the offer, I am not certain any amount of talking can mend the rift between her and I. It goes quite deep and has hurt us both.”
“I understand. Sometimes what we struggle with is so big that we find ourselves lost in it and can’t ever see a way out.” Pressing her lips together, she clasped her hands in her lap. “But take heart. Don’t give up and think your wife won’t come ‘round.”
He frowned. “Why do you say that? She has been out of sorts with me for months due to a lie of omission that has now upended our lives.”
Not knowing what that meant but not wishing to pry into the life of a man she didn’t know, Anne softly cleared her throat.
“That only means she cares very much for you and what the two of you have shared together.” She shrugged.
“Your wife is entitled to how she feels the same as you are, but whatever has happened between you is serious and has rocked the foundation of your union. The only answer right now is to be there for her.”
“I have been, but she’s backed down.”
Anne nodded. “Keep on. If you love her, you must be patient. No doubt this is the first time her faith in you has been shaken.”
“How can you know that?”
“Because that is how I feel about my husband. His past is horrid and dark. Do I like that he is the type of man he is or that he killed my brother? No, of course not, but I also know that is only one piece of the person he is.” For a few moments she thought over her words.
“Why should I toss him away when he is only partially dented even if he is morally gray?” She had sought revenge not having all the facts regarding both her husband and her brother.
Now she understood that her twin had his own secrets that had ushered in his fate.
Losing that idealized vision of him had hurt, but in many ways, it had opened her mind to bigger things.
That was the exact truth, wasn’t it? When it came down to brass tacks, they were all like that. The sum of their parts was more valuable than the pieces that were bent or broken. And within that cracked picture, there was still love.
“I rather think you’re the most clever of us all,” Eggleton said, and there was an uplifted air about him that hadn’t been there throughout dinner.
“Keep in touch, and tell your wife she is welcome to call at any time if she needs a friend.”
“I certainly will.” Briefly, Eggleton touched her arm. “And Mrs. Cunningham? Have that sort of faith in your husband. He’s not fully rotten, even if he thinks that of himself.”
“Thank you. I know that too.” Then she stood and wandered over to the Duchess of Averly and the “duke” of Nottingham’s wife, where they gossiped and talked and laughed for the next several moments.
During a lull in the din of conversation in the room, a shout from somewhere in the corridor drifted to her location followed by the unmistakable sound of something—or someone—falling down the stairs. And what was more, the shout had come from her husband.
With a look around at some of the guests, she bolted across the room for the door.
The other guests were close on her heels, and as she reached the stairs on that level, she stared down in horror to see Broderick lying at the bottom with his lower half draped on the steps and his upper half lying on the marble floor of the foyer.
“Broderick!” The terror in her voice was recognizable even to her own ears as Anne raced down the steps with her skirting clutched in her hands.
When he didn’t move, her pulse accelerated, and icy fingers of dread played her spine.
Good heavens, was he alive? At the bottom, she threw herself onto her knees.
“Broderick?” Not knowing what else to do, she gently pulled his head and shoulders into her lap and finger-combed his dark hair.
“Please don’t be dead. I haven’t had nearly enough time with you. ”
By that time, the others had joined her. Some guests lingered on the stairs by his feet while others clustered about her position on the floor. The Duke of Deviney shouted presumably for his butler and footmen. Not long afterward, the household was in a flurry of activity.
But all of Anne’s attention remained on the unconscious man whose head rested in her lap.
Tears welled in her eyes to fall onto her cheeks.
She knew in that moment that she was definitely in love with this man and had perhaps realized it too late.
Was it foolish? That she’d fallen so fast and so hard in less than a week and for a man who, by all accounts, was less than honorable by society’s standards? Fell her own brother’s killer?
The Duchess of Averly drifted close to touch Anne’s shoulder. “Deviney has sent someone to rouse a doctor who lives nearby.”
“Thank you,” she whispered without moving her gaze away from Broderick’s dear face. “Tell him I appreciate that.” As she spoke, Anne stroked the fingers of one hand along his cheek, traced their tips over his dark eyebrows and along his jaw.
Why hadn’t she told him how she was beginning to feel when she had the chance? Would it have made a difference?
Some of the guests formed a cluster in the entry hall while apparently waiting for the doctor’s arrival.
She ignored everything as she leaned over her husband’s form while her tears came faster.
“If you ever wanted to do something for me, Broderick, please wake up. I need you so much, want the future I know we can have together, but I don’t want to be a widow. I just can’t go forward without you.”
Long seconds ticked by in silent agony before they were broken by a soft gasp and then a raspy, “Anne?”
She brought her head up and stared downward into her husband’s open eyes. “Broderick! You’re alive!” Could a person die from unexpected joy? For her chest, her heart, felt as if they would rip open from sheer happiness bubbling inside her.
“Of course I am. What a silly thing to think I wasn’t.” Then his sensual lips pulled into a frown. “What the hell am I doing here with everyone staring at me?”
“You fell down the stairs.” One of her hands moved to his forehead. “Are you well? Have you lost your memory? Is anything hurt?”
He batted her hands away when she tried to explore his form for broken bones. “Leave off, woman.” Slowly, he wriggled into a sitting position but remained close to Anne. “I am well but have accumulated quite a collection of bumps and bruises.”
“How did you come to fall? I assume you were coming back upstairs instead of down.”
“I can see how this would appear confusing.” He groaned as he put a hand to the back of his head where he presumably had hit it, which caused his brief period of unconsciousness.
“After I found the particular book I’d wanted for you, I was anxious to return, for I didn’t want you charmed by Deviney.
” With a strained chuckle, he glanced past her to the duke then grinned.
“Apparently, I’m a nodcock, because I tripped over my feet.
I remember grasping for the railing but couldn’t find purchase before I fell downward.
” As he grimaced, he pulled a book from beneath him. “This is what I brought for you.”
She took the linen-bound volume from him with a frown. “This isn’t poetry.”
“No, it’s the Mysteries of Udolpho.” When he met her gaze, so many emotions crowded into those dark depths that she was in awe and hesitated to sort them lest she was wrong.
“I’d hoped that if you read this book, you might understand some of what I’ve been feeling, especially regarding a convoluted and complicated romance.
Not that ours is anything like what is in this book. ”
“Oh!” Was it possible they had both been too cowardly to be truthful with each other?
“That is so sweet.” And what was more, she didn’t want to wait any longer to tell him what fate was already etching on her heart.
Conscious of their audience, Anne slipped a hand about his nape, drew him close, and gently kissed his mouth.
“I rather think you have my heart, and it was very nearly broken when I saw you lying motionless at the bottom of these stairs.”
“I’m so sorry.” He cupped her cheek with his free hand. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“I know.” The tears that fell now were from happiness, and she suspected she hadn’t truly been that in a long time.
As she roved her gaze around at the other guests, she gave them a sheepish smile.
“I apologize for cutting your evening short, but I’d like to take my devilish duke home.
If we linger any longer, I’m afraid he might choke on air while he’s swallowing. ”
The joke was met with relieved chuckles and emotional tittering from the ladies.
The Duke of Deviney nodded. “Understandable, but don’t you want to wait for the doctor to arrive?”
“I don’t need a doctor,” Broderick said as he slowly gained his feet. “It was a damned bump to the head.”
“Bad luck that you’ll spend Christmastide with aches and pains.”
“Nothing that brandy and wine won’t cure,” her husband shot back with a crooked grin.
Anne shook her head. “Don’t worry, Your Grace. I’ll make certain he stays in bed for the next few days.” She accepted Broderick’s help in rising to her feet. “Please tell your doctor to go home when he arrives.”
“Didn’t you hear me, Anne?” he asked. “I’m not—”
She held his gaze and widened her eyes. Surely, he could understand what she wanted.
“Oh.” Ruddy color rose on his neck, while two of the dukes snickered and elbowed each other in the ribs. “That’s probably for the best. Wouldn’t want to risk concussion or to aggravate bruises. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“Well, if Udolpho gets to go home and usher in Christmas while being shitfaced and fucked, I want to do the same,” the Duke of Averly said as he grabbed his wife about the waist. “Shall we make our way home as well?”
The whole company erupted into laughter.
Anne smiled. “Happy Christmas to you all.”
For the first time in quite a while, it would be happy indeed for her as well.