Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval Read online

  “I don’t mean to tell you your business, Winchester,” Clarence said, speaking in an undertone as his old friend accompanied him to the door, where Faraday awaited them with Clarence’s outer garments. “But it might be better if you all remained at home this evening, especially Annalise and Frankie. I don’t want anyone using them to get to me.”

  “I understand.” Winchester slapped his back. “Anna is getting…well, to be honest, I’m not sure what afflicts her. I have never seen her so out of sorts before.” He shrugged. “Delayed reaction to her ordeal, I shouldn’t wonder.”

  “Try and persuade her to rest. She looks worn out.”

  Winchester rolled his eyes. “I shall certainly try.”

  “I won’t keep you in the dark. That I promise. This business is reaching its zenith and will be resolved very soon. I can sense it.” Clarence donned his hat. “Just keep them safe, Winchester, and let me handle the rest.”

  “I will do my humble best.”

  They shook hands and Clarence walked through the door that Faraday opened for him.

  ***

  Anna regretted the manner in which she had responded to Clarence almost before he left the room. She had been most ungracious, and wanted to call him back and apologise. She probably would have done so, had not Frankie and Zach been there. But if they had not been there, she could have expressed her views freely to Clarence, and would not have been so out of charity with him. She could see perfectly well the situation was serious, serious and significant, not just for them personally, but for the fragile peace that reigned across Europe.

  She had never seen Frankie so discomposed before. Clearly, she believed Wahlstadt might actually have murdered her husband in order to protect his secret. How shocking! Frankie’s marriage was a puzzle. Anna thought from a few unguarded remarks her friend had made during their earlier conversation, it had not been an especially happy union, but the possibility of her husband having being murdered had clearly not occurred to Frankie before now and had affected her profoundly. Well of course it had! Even if Frankie had not loved her husband, she had lived with him for eight years, shining as a political hostess and doing all she could to enhance his career. Of course, the prospect of murder would overset her. She and Zach were now engaged in quiet conversation. Her brother would have recognised just how disturbing Frankie had found this latest development and was doing what he could to reassure her.

  Anna felt as though she was intruding and wandered from the room, deep in thought. A political hostess. Is that what Anna would have to be if she married Clarence? Heavens, she would be more of a hindrance than a help to him. She never had learned to keep her opinions to herself and her spontaneity would most likely undo all Clarence’s diligent work in one foul swoop. She shook her head. It was no good. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that a marriage would make them both miserable.

  Anna entered her bedchamber, restless, on edge, feeling as though something momentous was about to happen. Thinking about her engagement to Clarence, and the possibility of seeing it through to marriage. She loved her intelligent, handsome, dedicated diplomat with a passion that stirred her soul. No one else would do for her. But, quite apart from her suitability as a political hostess, she also knew if she did marry him, situations like the one that had developed today would become the norm. His duty would always come first, their plans would be cancelled at the last minute because of some emergency or other, and she would never get to enjoy more than a fraction of his company. Worse yet, she could never claim that special place in the centre of his heart, because it was already occupied by his duty. His cold-hearted father, who had so much to answer for in the manner he had shaped Clarence’s character, had seen to that.

  Annalise had no wish to live her life on those terms, and if that made her seem overindulged and selfish, then so be it. She would prefer to live out her life as an old maid, rather than not be the central focus of her husband’s life.

  The luncheon gong sounded, and Anna made her way to the dining room, plastering a smile on her face because Mama had returned from her shopping spree and would notice at once if she seemed disgruntled. She listened with half an ear to the chatter about their purchases and their plans for the rest of the week.

  “Did you manage to find the new bonnet you intended to look for, Portia?” Anna asked, just to contribute to the conversation.

  Portia laughed. “You should have been there to see what the woman in the shop tried to sell me. I looked like a walking fruit bowl.”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Crista said, stifling a laugh.

  “It was bad enough,” Portia insisted.

  “You look tired, Anna,” Mama said at one point. “Are you feeling quite well?”

  “Yes, Mama.” Anna managed a reassuring smile. “I am fine.”

  “Well, I have decided we all ought to remain at home tonight. Even if you are equal to the demands of the ton, my dear, they have quite exhausted me. We shall have a quiet family dinner and celebrate Amos and Crista’s news in style.”

  Anna nodded her agreement, wondering if that was the real reason for the suggestion.

  “We shall not be at home to visitors this afternoon, Faraday,” Mama said over her shoulder.

  “Very good, your grace.”

  Ah, Anna thought, glancing at Zach and understanding. Zach had advised Mama to keep them all safely at home until Clarence had resolved the matter of von Hessel.

  That was all very well, she thought, escaping back to her chamber as soon as luncheon was over on the pretence of needing a rest, but she was in no mood to sit about and wait for Clarence to deign to call with more news. She needed to speak with him, and she needed to do so now. Anna was not blessed with a patient nature, which was another reason why she and Clarence would not suit. She had good reason to know his patience was endless. Otherwise, he would not have lasted five minutes in his chosen profession.

  She needed to apologise for the way she had behaved that morning, and then tell him she could not marry him. Goodness only knew, she had dropped enough hints—hints which he had chosen to ignore. Well, she would confront him now in his Moon Street apartment. They would be alone, and he would have to face the unpalatable truth. A small sob slipped past her lips, but she swallowed down her anguish, determined to do what she knew to be the right thing, albeit by rather unconventional means. Calling alone at his premises was a little unorthodox, but they were engaged to be married. Besides, no one would ever know.

  Her heart lurched at the prospect of what she must do. Knowing they could not marry was one thing. Explaining that to the man she loved, the man who could make her insides melt just by smiling at her in a particular manner, the man whose kisses send tingles cascading down her spine and other places, was entirely another. But it was for his own good as much as hers. He did not love her, was probably incapable of loving anyone, thanks to his tyrannical parent, and he would soon come to see she was in the right of it. One of them had to have the courage to face the truth, and one thing Anna had never lacked was courage.

  Having told Fanny she would not need her for several hours, Anna was assured of privacy. Her only problem was escaping the house undetected. She took an old cloak from the back of her wardrobe and wrapped it around her, pulling the hood low over her curls. The garment was a dark, dreary colour and completely enveloped her. She would not be recognised. She felt a moment’s anxiety about going out alone for the first time since her abduction. It was something ladies of quality simply did not do when they were in London. But when had Anna ever allowed such considerations to deter her from her purpose?

  “You are looking for excuses to delay what you know must be done,” she told her reflection severely. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get the pain over with.”

  She was no longer in any danger. Only Frankie was, she reminded herself, and Zach had ensured the entire family would remain safely at home with Frankie forming part of it. Anna straightened her shoulders, remind
ing herself she could do anything she set her mind to. This was nothing compared to escaping from that warehouse.

  No, it was ten times worse, because she was about to tell the man she adored she could not marry him.

  A debilitating pain ripped through Anna, momentarily halting her in her tracks. As soon as it passed, she opened her door and glanced cautiously along the corridor. It was empty. At this hour, the rest of her family would be going about their various activities or, as she was supposed to be doing, they would be resting. No visitors would be admitted, and so she was fairly sure of a clean getaway. But not down the main stairs. Faraday always seemed to know when a member of the family was about and materialised in case he was needed.

  Anna went to the door that led to the servants’ staircase and pushed it open. To her considerable relief, no one was using it at that moment. It would be difficult to explain why she was doing so if anyone saw her. She tripped lightly down the stairs, expecting at any moment to be challenged, but she saw no one. Presumably, the servants had a little time to themselves at this hour also. Certainly, she heard voices and laughter coming from the direction of the kitchen. Taking advantage of the staff’s preoccupation, she slipped through the boot room and out into the mews. Harry, the lad who cared for Betty, saw her and looked surprised. She held a finger to her lips to silence him and, keeping to the edge of the building so as not to be observed from an upstairs windows, she made her way cautiously to the street.

  Moon Street was not far away and Anna walked briskly, keeping her eyes focused directly ahead of her. The weather had turned bitterly cold again and heavy clouds threatened more snow. Thoughts of her snowball fight with Clarence temporarily robbed her of her resolve. Perhaps there was a way she could make this work after all.

  No, she told herself, there most definitely was not. She refused to settle for half measures, and that was all there was to be said on the subject.

  Anna reached the building in which Clarence’s apartment was housed. The door to the street was not locked, and she pushed her way through it, into a refined entrance lobby with a chequered floor. There was a desk for a porter, which was unattended. Good. She had not stopped to think how she would explain her presence to anyone other than Clarence. Before the porter could return, she slipped up the stairs to the first floor. Clarence lived in apartment 2c, which appeared to be at the back of the building, facing the gardens. She stood outside his door, took a deep breath, and then knocked.

  Her knock was answered by a manservant, who looked at her closely, his expression giving nothing away.

  “I am here to see Lord Romsey,” she said, tilting her chin, defying him to send her on her way again.

  Her upper class accent must have persuaded the man, because he stood back and allowed her into the hall.

  “Whom shall I say requires to see him?”

  Before Anna could answer him, Clarence stepped into the hall. He saw her, stopped dead in his tracks, and then blinked as though his eyes deceived him.

  “Annalise? What on earth brings you here?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Annalise looked up at him warily, probably taken aback by the anger he was making no effort to keep from his expression. The reckless nature he had briefly found so refreshing no longer seemed quite so enticing. He had changed his mind about her being intelligent, too. She clearly did precisely as she pleased, without sparing a thought for the consequences. Sampson was standing impassively to one side, reminding Clarence of the awkwardness of the situation, if any reminder was necessary. There was a remote possibility Annalise had a legitimate reason for calling, he supposed. Best discover if that was the case before sending her packing.

  “Allow me to take your cloak,” he said, his crisp tone formal, rigid.

  Annalise removed her hood slowly, a flash of wariness passing through her expression, as though she suddenly realised just how angry Clarence was with her. With a careless shrug that was more in character, she then removed the cloak itself and sent him a challenging look as she handed it to him. She wasn’t wearing a bonnet, and her curls were in tumbled disarray. Clarence refused to be diverted from his justifiable annoyance by thoughts of just how glorious those curls would look, spread out beneath her on a pillow.

  “Go with Pierce to the Foreign Office,” Clarence said to Sampson in an undertone. “Take the carriage and keep a sharp lookout. Defend those papers with your life. Do not show them to anyone until I get there. I am unsure whom to trust. If Castlereagh should happen to see you before I arrive, tell him I shall be there in an hour to explain everything.”

  Clarence took Anna’s elbow in a grip tight enough to bring tears to her eyes. He noticed them and relaxed his hand, just fractionally.

  “Please tell me you did not come alone,” he said, his voice tight with controlled anger.

  “Well of course I did. I wished to speak with you.”

  They were now in his drawing room, which doubled as his library. It was a room he had never imagined Annalise would see, but was too irate to wonder what she made of it. He shook his head and invited her, with an exaggerated bow, to take a seat beside the fire. He reached for his discarded coat, and then thought better of it. Annalise would have to become accustomed to the sight of him in waistcoat and shirtsleeves, which was the way he preferred to work.

  “I don’t know why you are so cross with me.” She tilted her chin in a defiant gesture he was starting to recognise. “The walk was short, and no one could have recognised me beneath my cloak. Even if they did, it is not me they wish to speak with. I was perfectly safe.”

  “Even allowing for the fact that ladies of quality never venture out alone in London—”

  “Don’t think to lecture me, Clarence. I came because it was necessary. I have three things I most urgently need to talk with you about.”

  Yea gods! “So urgent that it could not wait until I call at Berkeley Square again this evening, as I said I would? What could possibly be that urgent, especially when you knew I had more pressing matters to occupy my mind?”

  “Unless your duties prevented you from calling. Besides, we are never completely alone at Sheridan House, and what I have to say ought not to be heard by others.”

  Clarence shook his head, astonished by her naiveté, or was it more a case of selfish determination? “Frankie is the person von Hessel wishes to speak with, it’s true. But he will also know by now that I have her husband’s papers. The people he sent to Winchester will have discovered that much. He also knows you and I are engaged. If he found you wandering the streets alone, what do you suppose he would have done?”

  “Oh lud, I did not think.” She raised a hand to cover her mouth, contrite but still not seeming especially concerned by the problems she could have created. “Still, no one did see me, so it does not signify.”

  There was no reasoning with her. “You will be missed at Sheridan House sooner rather than later. Think how distressed your family will become if you cannot be found. Again.”

  She lifted her shoulders. “I will be back before they know it.”

  “Once you are missed, this is the first place your brothers will look for you. Do you really imagine they will believe I did not invite you here?”

  “I will not allow that.”

  Clarence sighed. Vince and Nate, possibly Winchester also, would not give her the opportunity to explain before they resorted to violence. Her younger brothers still bore him a grudge, even though he and Annalise were now engaged. “What did you wish to talk to me about so urgently?”

  “Well, firstly an apology.” She looked him unflinchingly in the eye. “I did not behave well this morning, and was quite ashamed of myself afterwards. I know how important your duty is to you, and I should not have shown how upset I was at your eagerness to return to it.”

  “Thank you,” he replied, his temper cooling fractionally. Her apology was hardly necessary and could most certainly have waited. But the fact that it weighed so heavily on her conscience that she felt
compelled to call upon him and make it said much for her character. “Your apology is accepted, but you ought not to have taken such a risk to make it.”

  “I also wanted to offer my help reading Lord St. John’s papers,” she said. “I thought that way we could resolve the problem more quickly. I may not know much about diplomacy…” She bit her lip, as though attempting to quell a giggle. The gesture was so typical of her, so uncontrived, that the remnants of Clarence’s anger fell away. He would have the devil’s own job keeping control of her when they were married, but it was a task he relished. “All right, I know nothing about diplomacy, but I can read.”

  “Thank you, but we have found the documents already. I was about to take them to the Foreign Office when you arrived.”

  “You know what was behind it all?” She bounced on her seat and sat forward, full of energy and excitement. “Do tell. Oh, but I am keeping you from the Foreign Secretary. No wonder you don’t want me here.”

  Oh, I want you. Rather desperately.

  “Don’t worry. Castlereagh keeps all his visitors waiting a mandatory hour, no matter how urgent their business. I think it makes him feel more important. Pierce and Sampson are there now with the documents. I will join them when I have seen you safely home.”

  “Then please tell me what this was all about. I must know.”

  “It is very simply actually. It transpires that Wahlstadt, the favoured nephew, is not quite as brave in battle as von Hessel. Someone, somewhere must have got wind of that fact, which is why St. John was detailed to quiz some of the soldiers in his regiment.”

  “What happened?”

  “The Prussian cavalry were in the throes of reorganisation at the time of the battle of Waterloo. To say they were a shambles would be an understatement. Guns and equipment continued to arrive during and after the battle, but these handicaps were offset by the Prussian army. It had professional leadership and acquitted itself well, concentrating on the battle at twenty-four hours’ notice.” Clarence paused. “All except Wahlstadt’s regiment. Orders were sent down the line to attack at a vital time, but Wahlstadt claims not to have received them. The enemy broke through the area he was supposed to hold, and many lives were unnecessarily lost as a consequence.”