The Reluctant Duchess (12 page)

He couldn’t
stop himself from thinking over his mother’s words though and the more he thought about it, the more sense it made that Annabelle would be frightened of marriage. He felt like kicking himself. Just last night he had assured her that he understood why she distrusted him and had pledged to win her trust. Now the very next morning, he had snapped at her because his pride had been wounded.

The only example of marriage that that she had seen was her parent’s marriage a
nd by all accounts, that had been about possession and ownership.

If on
ly she had met his parents whilst his father was still alive, then perhaps she would understand that marriage was about loving someone so much, that you cared more for their happiness than for your own.

He froze as he realised what he had just thought. Today he had asked her to marry him, so did that mean that he was in love with her?

She had been right when she’d told him that he didn’t even know her but this weekend, he had seen a lot more than just her tempter and beauty. He was falling in love, he realised and the thought of being married to her didn’t perturb him anywhere near as much as it had with other women in the past.

All his past mistress
es had been married and for a very good reason; because he didn’t want to find himself married to a woman that he didn’t love, because she was in ‘trouble’. His father and Army friends had ensured that he knew to use preventatives but while they prevented disease, there was still a chance of conceiving a child.

With Annabelle however, he hadn’t even considered
the consequences. He would have taken her that first day in her office, had she let him and his restraint last night had nothing to do with fear of making a child with her.

Still, just because he was falling in love with her, didn’t mean that she was ready to know that. He couldn’t begin to guess how she felt about him but even if she did have feelings for him, he would be willing to bet that she wasn’t ready to admit them.

He folded up his paper, causing her to look over at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “My behaviour this morning was unforgivable.
You wounded my pride but that is no excuse.”

“I
was harsher than I should have been as well. I was just so surprised but please believe me, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I do,” he smiled.
“Friends again?”

Annabelle smiled and nodded.

“So, will you go straight back to the coffee house when we arrive?” he asked.

“No I’ll stop at home first,
drop my trunk off and see how Mother has been. Ruth will have done the cooking today, so I’ll walk to the coffee house, once I’m sure that there have been no catastrophes in my absence.”

“Nonsense, we can wait and drive you to the shop.” Richard checked his watch.

“No, you’re busy and it isn’t a long walk.”

“I was just wondering how long we
’d been travelling,” he explained, putting the watch away. “I don’t have any pressing matters to attend to.”

“Am I keeping you from ma
tters at your estate?”

“No. Our steward is very efficient. Besides, Mother has been handling
things whilst I was away, so she can manage a while longer, and I am only a few hours away.”

Annabelle nodded, although she didn’t look convinced.

“Trust me, you are not an imposition in the slightest.”

“Thank you.”

When they got to Conduit
Street, Annabelle and Richard headed inside. The driver would unload Annabelle’s trunk. They were greeted by Sal, who looked more than a little surprised to see Richard with her mistress.

“How has everything been?” Annabelle asked.

“No problems,” Sal smiled. “Everything went smoothly.”

“Thank you Sal. I’ll just go and see Jones, then we’ll head over to the coffee house.”

“Would your guest like some tea?”

Annabelle turned to Richard t
o see what he thought.

“Could I come with you? I’d like to meet your mother.”

Annabelle hesitated but then realised that there was no real reason why he couldn’t meet her mother. She may scare him away but then if he was so easily dissuaded, it was probably better to find out now.

“Follow me.”

Richard looked around as he followed her. The house had seen better days, most of the furnishings seemed to be second hand and there were very few home touches around, but everything was well cared for and spotlessly clean.

Evelina’s bedroom was at the rear of the first floor and looked to be the largest of the bedrooms.
To his surprise, Annabelle knocked but didn’t go inside. A few moments later, a middle aged woman came out into the hall and closed the door behind her.

“Jones, this is Richard
Armstrong. Jones is my mother’s lady’s maid and nurse.” Annabelle introduced them. “How is she?”

“Not too bad. She’s quite subdued today
and is even trying some needlepoint.”

“Do you think she’d mind some visitors?”

“She shouldn’t be too bad today but,” Jones turned to Richard. “Don’t make any sudden movements.”

Jones went into the room first, followed by Annabelle. Richard brought up the rear.

“Look, Evelina, we have some visitors.”

Richard looked at
Annabelle’s mother, who was sitting on a small sofa. Once she had probably been very pretty, perhaps even prettier than Annabelle, but now her face was very gaunt and she had a vacant look about her. Her hair was thin and even although it looked as if it had been styled this morning, it was now a mess.

She put aside her sampler and smiled vacantly at them. “Hello.”

“How are you today?” Annabelle asked, approaching with some trepidation.

Richard stayed by the door;
Evelina didn’t even seem to have noticed him yet.

“Oh, I’m very well, thank you.”

Annabelle picked up the sampler and sat down beside her mother. “This is lovely,” she said, although Richard thought that a small child could do better work.

Eveline smiled for a moment but then her smile faded, to be replaced by fear.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Annabelle.”

“Oh!” Evelina smiled. “That’s my daughter’s name.”

“I know,” Annabelle
felt as if she would choke on the words.

Eveline’s smile faded again. “Where is Annabelle?” she began to look around. “Annabelle! Annabelle! Where are you,
darling?”

She got u
p and began to try and look for her daughter. Jones came to stand in front of her and caught her arms.

“It’s
all right, Eve, Annabelle’s safe.”

“No, she
was here just a moment ago. Annabelle! Annabelle!” She struggled and broke free of Jones’ grip. “Annabelle!”

Annabelle got to her feet and slowly walked to the door, trying not to draw attention to herself.

“You took her!” Eveline turned to Annabelle. “Where is she, where is my baby!”

Eveline ran at Annabelle, intending to strike her but Richard stepped between them to stop her.

“NO!” Eveline flinched away, protecting her head with her hands. “Don’t hurt me, please! I just want my baby. Why won’t you tell me where she is?”

Eveline fell to the floor and began to sob.

Richard stood there stunned by the complete irrationality of what he had witnessed. He saw Jones mixing a tea spoon of laudanum with some cordial and even when Annabelle put her hand on his arm, he couldn’t look away.

“Come on, we’d better go,” she whispered.

It took some force on Annabelle’s part but finally Richard began backing towards the door. As Annabelle shut the door behind them, his last glimpse was of Jones comforting a sobbing Eveline and offering her the drugged cordial.

When the door closed, he snapped out of his stupor and turned to Annabelle, who was herself blinking back tears.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realise what I was asking. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s not your fault,” she assured him. “Let’s have a cup of tea, shall we?”

They headed into Annabelle’s study and were quickly brought a pot of tea, which they sat in the armchairs by the fire to drink.

“The longer it goes on
, the more of her memory she seems to lose and the more erratic her behaviour becomes,” Annabelle explained. “She hardly ever remembers who I am anymore.”

“But she
remembers Jones?”

“Jones has been with her since before her coming out ball, they’re more like sisters now.”

“Why did she flinch when I stepped in front of you?”

“Father used to hit her sometimes. Not often but she was always a little nervous, it’s just a reflex now.”

“Does she often try to attack you?”

“Not just me. She doesn’t know any of us most of the time and that frightens her.
I hardly ever go in to see her now.”

“Because it upsets you?”

“More because it upsets her. Jones takes the worst of it but she can handle Mother better than anyone. The rest of the staff never go in, they just knock and leave the tray in the hall. Jones keeps me informed of how she is.”

“What about when the doctor comes?”

“Jones gives her a little laudanum with breakfast on those days. Sometimes she has to be restrained but Dr Medway has a good bedside manner, so that’s not normally necessary.”

“I’m sorry, Anna.”

“It’s not your fault,” she smiled at him, “but I thank you for the sentiment.”

“I remember being taken to see my grandfather when I was young. It was terrifying.”

“I’m sure. I’m just glad that we don’t have any children around.”

“Have you considered an asylum?”

Annabelle didn’t want him to know about her financial problems so she told him a half truth. “I don’t want to take Jones away from her.”

“I can understand that.”

Annabelle put her teacup down. “We should get off to the coffee house,” she said. She got her hair pins from her reticule and began to pin her hair up, so practiced by now that she didn’t even need a mirror.

“I love your hair when it’s down.”  He said, causing her to smile but for once,
rather than blush. It wasn’t much but it was a definite improvement.

When she was finished
, they headed off to the coffee house and Richard intentionally kept the conversation light.

“Perhaps I should stay with you,” he suggested suddenly feeling as if he was about
to lose her. “Just for a few days, in case Frederick should come into the shop.”

“Thank you but it would be frightfully dull for you.”

“As long as it keeps you safe.”

“Honestly, I will be fine. I will have Frank with me and if it makes you feel any better, I will get
Frank to do the deliveries each afternoon.”

“It would make me feel better,” he admitted.

“Thank you for everything, Richard.” Annabelle smiled.

The carriage drew to a halt and Richard realised that his time was up.
From now on, he would have to compete with this blasted coffee house for her attention.

“Thank you,
Annabelle; you made what would surely have been a tedious weekend, very enjoyable.”

The coffee house had run smoothly in her absence and Annabelle easily slotted back into life there, as if she’d never been away. She sampled the stew and two small slices of cake and whilst they weren’t made to her exacting standards, they were more than adequate. She thanked Ruth for helping out and let her return to the house.

She found that she was looking forward to cooking again tomorrow and had decided to add a few touches from the weekend to her work. For example, she wanted to see about getting a stamp made with the coffee house letters, WCH, so that she could brand the biscuits with it. She might also try a few more specialist cakes, such as the rolled sponge with raspberry jam.
Still, for now she was happy to simply serve her customers. Today they knew nothing of the goings on in Hampshire but by tomorrow, she had little doubt that everyone would know of her confrontation with Frederick, and the gossip about Richard.

Today though, she was still the relatively anonymous coffee house owner and she wanted to make the most of that.

Annabelle had only just finished washing her hair when there came a furious pounding on the front door.
She pulled a robe on and headed downstairs, to see that Sal had already answered the door to Billy Adamson, whose father ran the bakery next to the coffee house.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” he said when he saw how she was dressed. I didn’t m
ean to wake you.”

“You didn’t, she assured him. Now just calm down and come inside.”
She took the boy’s shoulders and guided him into the hallway. He looked healthy for a boy of eight but he was still panting, so he had probably run the whole way here.