The Reluctant Duchess (19 page)

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. “I wanted to keep you safe so I employed them. They weren’t supposed to be noticed.”

She visibly relaxed. “Oh, thank God. I had visions of being attacked or worse, the house burnt down or something.”

“I’m sorry, I should have told you but you didn’t seem to like my interference.”

“Right now, I’m too relieved to be angry,” she said, smiling.

“It really upset you, didn’t it?”

She nodded. 

“I’m sorry,” he came around the desk and knelt at her feet. “I meant to protect you, not worry you.”

“I know,” she assured him, determined not to get upset with him. She didn’t honestly think that he was keeping tabs on her and in her heart, she knew that his intentions had been pure.

“I also have another two detectives looking into
Frederick. One is finding out what he can about Frederick’s past, while the other is wooing a maid in his house to keep discreet tabs on him.”

“Have you discovered anything yet?”

“Nothing that will put him behind bars. I did find out that he befriended Mr Braithwaite’s wife and was the one talking her into trying to join London Society, but that is hardly illegal.

“No,” she agreed, “but t
hank you for trying.”

“We will
best him in the end,” Richard assured her.

Annabelle could only hope that he was right.

Richard visited her in the
coffee house on Tuesday and Wednesday but aside from a few stolen kisses in her office, they were unable to be intimate.

Mr Braithwaite moved out on the Wednesday, his staff removing his personal belongings during the day
whilst he was at work, and Richard and Annabelle set their first assignation for Thursday evening. Richard informed his detectives that Annabelle would be bookkeeping and he would see her home, so they were to follow the rest of the staff home and keep watch on the house.

The anticipation that Annabelle felt threatened to overwhelm her but she
did her best to seem as unexcited by the prospect of ‘bookkeeping’ as she could. They closed after the final customer left at around a quarter past eight and she took her hair down once she was alone, giving her staff plenty of time to head home.

Annabelle headed out to the rear yard
, then to the servants’ entrance to the house above, which was at the side of the yard. Richard was waiting for her, wearing only his trousers and shirt, and as soon as the door closed behind her, he greeted her with a passionate kiss. Then he took her hand and led her up to one of the guest bedrooms.

Annabelle gasped as she entered the room, for every available surface had been covered with candles, giving t
he room a fairy tale quality. She looked around in awe, turning in circles. She was pleased to note that the heavy velvet curtains had been drawn, so hopefully no one could see the display.

“It’s beautiful,” she gasped.

Richard stepped up behind her and put his arms around her waist, as he bent to kiss her neck.

“
Not as beautiful as you,” he assured her.

She turned in his arms and kissed him,
whilst his hands went to the back of her dress, where her buttons resided today. He noticed that there were a lot fewer this time and he wondered if she had chosen this dress for its ease of removal. Hardly sixty seconds after he had started, her dress and petticoat lay in a pool on the floor.

She in turn
was wasting no time in divesting him of his shirt and trousers, their passion for each other even greater this time than the first. Before he had even removed her corset and chemise, he had pinned her up against one of the posts on the bed and was plunging into her moist depths. Annabelle responded by wrapping her legs around his waist, so he was supporting her weight completely.

Annabelle dipped her head and began to kiss his neck, even scraping her teeth over the tender flesh there, which spurred Richard to even greater heights of passion. When he was spent and his ardour finally began to cool, he carried her to the bed and laid her down, reluctantly pulling out. She sat u
p and he divested her of her remaining clothes, then got into bed beside her, pulling her to him.

“That wasn’t too hard, was it?” he asked,
running one of her silken curls through his fingers.

“I’m not made of glass,” she assured him with a laugh. “I won’t break. Besides, I was as eager as you for this reunion.”

They spent a blissful two hours together before they had to part (with some reluctance). He helped her dress again and as she pinned her hair up, he dressed as well. Blowing out all the candles proved to be quite a task and they began to compete, seeing who could blow out the most in one breath. Although neither was sure who the winner was by the end, they both claimed victory.

They exited through the
servants’ entrance and back through the coffee house, locking up each door behind them. Richard then hailed a cab and escorted Annabelle home, waiting until she was inside before directing the cab to his home.

Annabelle was waiting anxiously for her meeting with Richard that evening and she had a feeling that they would both be insatiable by the time they actually met.

Since that first meeting over the
coffee house, they managed to see each other twice a week in the house, Tuesdays and Thursdays and each Sunday, Richard came to her house while the servants were off duty, although he was careful to leave before dawn.

It was becoming harder and harder to manufacture ex
cuses to stay late at the coffee house. Tonight her excuse was that she had a special order for a torte that she wouldn’t have the time to bake tomorrow. She would claim that she had delivered it on her way home if anyone asked where the cake was, but such excuses would soon be seen through.

Parting was becoming harder each time and Annabelle was actually starting to thaw to the idea of marriage.
In fact they’d had a proper discussion about it in her bedroom last Sunday. As they were enjoying the afterglow of their lovemaking, Richard had raised the subject, asking (with a practiced air of nonchalance) if she thought that she could ever marry.

Annabelle had been quiet for a few moments, composing her thoughts s
o that she could give him an honest answer.

“I have thought
about it,” she admitted. “Every time we part, I can’t help but think that if we were married, we wouldn’t have to leave each other. Part of me longs for it, although I’m still frightened by the prospect.”

“What frightens you?”

“Almost everything about becoming a wife,” she confessed. “Giving up the coffee house for one. It’s hard work but I feel a sense of accomplishment each day and I actually love baking; I find it very soothing, creating something from scratch. To give that up and spend my days planning dinner parties for people that I don’t much like, that other people will cook, is my personal idea of hell.”

“You sound like my mother, who delegates such tasks to the staff. I see no reason
why you shouldn’t too.”

“
And then what am I to do with my days? Call on other ladies? Spend hours making sure that my wardrobe is up to date?”

“Anna, you seem to be under the impression that I want to change you. I fell in lo
ve with who you are, your strong, independent spirit. I won’t try to change who you are.”

She raised her head from his chest and looked into his eyes. “You love me?”

He had been careful not to make such a declaration lest he scare her off, but it had just slipped out.

“I do,” he admitted, even although he dreaded her reaction. “With every fibre of my being.”

She smiled slightly. “I love you too.”

Their talk had been inte
rrupted by another bout of lovemaking but when they were once again sated, he brought the conversation back to her fears.

“So, I promise not to try and quash your spirit and turn you
into a perfect Society wife. What else scares you?”

“Perhaps
you
might not want to change me but Society has certain expectations of a duchess.”

“My dear, such an elevated rank gives you freedom, it doesn’t repress yo
u. You will set the trends for Society, not have them dictated to you.”

“I can hardly believe that anyone would follow me.”

He smiled. “Perhaps if you had been out in Society since our weekend at the estate, you would notice that quite a few young ladies are favouring your curls these days.”

“Really?” she raised her head to look up to him. “Mother was always lamenting my ‘wild hair’.”

“Your hair is beautiful.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently. “What’s more, I don’t see you as someone who would bend to the expectations of others. Be yourself, darling, and I will always support you.”

“But if you want
to become a politician, you will need a proper wife.”

“I am not sure that I do want to enter politics,” he admitted.

“No?”

“I haven’t decided finally. In fact Jonathan has arra
nged a meeting for me with the Speaker of the House on Thursday. He arguably has the most unpleasant position in Parliament, having to tell my uncle if the House disagrees with him or overrules him, so he knows all the potential pitfalls.”

“Aren’t we meeting on Thursday?”

“We are,” he assured her. “The meeting is late afternoon, so I shall be done in plenty of time to see you.”

Annabelle smiled and kissed him.

“So what else frightens you?” he asked.

Annabelle hesitated for a while, unwilling to hurt him.

“Please tell me,” he said. “I promise that I won’t be upset.”

She rested her head on his chest as this
was easier to admit if she didn’t have to look at him.

“
My autonomy,” she admitted. “And it isn’t because I don’t trust you not to abuse your power over me, it’s just that it’s a very big step to take and the thought of it is very daunting.”

He tightened the arm that
was around her and kissed the top of her head. “I can understand that.”

She risked a peek at him. “You aren’t upset with me?”

“No,” he smiled warmly. “I can understand why it frightens you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I have been trying to think of an equivalent for men but I can’t. But were I suddenly to be denied the right to do as I please with my property, the right to sign a legal contract, even the right to be considered a person under the law, I wouldn’t find that a very easy adjustment either. It would be like becoming a child again. Even although my father never put many restrictions on me, I don’t think it would be easy to go back to that state.”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

“Just promise me that there is a chance that, one day, you might want to marry me, despite the limitations it would place on you.”

“There
is a very good chance,” she admitted. “Just not yet.”

“I can live with that,” he assured her. “Besides, my own future is rather undecided at the moment.
If we marry now, we will both be without a career, so it cannot hurt either of us to wait.”

Now
that she was waiting with eager anticipation for her meeting with him that night, she thought that waiting might indeed do much harm to her usually calm nature. He had come into the shop to share lunch with her, as he usually did (so no one would suspect that the nature of their relationship had changed) but they weren’t able to vent much of their passion at those meetings.

At a
half past past seven, it was noted that there was a fair amount of traffic heading long Whitehall but Annabelle thought little of it. Almost fifteen minutes later a gentleman ran in, looking for a friend who he thought might be there and indeed his friend was there, tucking into his dinner.

“Westminster Palace is on fire
!” the first friend announced.

Alt
hough the coffee house wasn’t very busy by that that time of night, all the patrons cleared out within a minute, hastily leaving coins on the table to cover their bills. Only the staff and the detective who was assigned to protect Annabelle remained.

Annabelle was frozen with sh
ock. Richard was there, in the Speaker’s House. A cold dread settled in the pit of her stomach but she soon shook it off.

“I have to go,” she announced, heading for the door.

“Ma’am?” Minnie asked, thoroughly confused by her behaviour.

Luckily the detective
, Sampson, didn’t have the same reservations as her staff and he caught her about the waist. By now she had informed all the staff that the strange men who had been watching the coffee house, were actually detectives working for Richard.

“Hold up
there, lass, where’s the fire?”

Annabelle stared blankly at him for a moment, thinking the answer was obvious, until she realised that he was actually asking ‘what’s the rush’.