“Happy one-year anniversary,” Anna announced, lifting her glass, “to the day my husband left me!”
She was at a club meeting, hosted that week by her friend Maria Archdall. Her manor house was most beautiful, a far cry from her own, and it was the perfect setting for their discussions because her doting husband took their two children away for the afternoon, which meant they had it to themselves.
Her friends, who were surrounding her, eyed her carefully. Anna did not know why they were always so insistent on being concerned for her; she was more than capable of living alone, and in the year since Spencer had walked out the door never to return, she had become quite accustomed to it.
“You know,” Evelina said gently, “you might feel better if you told us how you were truly feeling. You are not to blame for what happened, and you need not hide behind humor.”
Anna looked around at her fellow Corset Chronicles Club members and stifled a laugh. They were all drinking wine, and they were all discussing the many pitfalls of men, as was the purpose of their club, and reading the sort of stories that would have them exiled if they were caught.
With the exception of Maria, of course. She was living in marital bliss with her wonderful husband, Damien, and she enjoyed her life as the Duchess of Winterleigh. Anna, the Duchess of Wutherton, had not been so fortunate, and her friends knew that perfectly well.
Theodora Dowell looked at her differently than her sister Evelina Burville did, of course. Theodora was the younger sister, and she was always interested in hearing the many failings of the male half of theton.It inspired her, Anna supposed, to continue with her plans. Evelina was the Dowager Countess of Thornton; however, this gave her a different view entirely.
“I always do say how I am feeling,” Anna protested. “My husband is as good as dead, and I am pleased that is the case. Is it better for me to say as much explicitly?”
“Well, it is not as though you are a widow. Not like me.”
Anna coughed slightly. She had indeed misspoken, for her friend was truly a widow. Her husband had died not long after their wedding, but that had not been troublesome for Evelina. It had been for the best, just as it had been for the best that Spencer had left Anna behind.
“It is the same, in essence. We live our own lives, on our husbands’ estates.”
“Well, yes, but your husband could return at any time, where mine most certainly will not.”
Anna raised an eyebrow, as did Theodora. They all knew that Spencer had little interest in seeing her, for he had never once returned, nor had he even written to her to tell her his whereabouts. She’d had to learn his location from the butler, and she had never attempted to seek him out. If he did not want her, she did not want him.
After all, she was used to being unwanted, was she not?
The reminder that he had abandoned her stung, and she wondered if it would after every anniversary. It had to improve with time, she considered, but she did not know just how long it might take.
“My husband is as good as gone,” Anna insisted, taking a sip of her drink. “He has not performed his marital duties for a year now, nor did her truly ever, and any husband that cannot do that is no husband at all.”
“No man at all,” Theodora agreed.
“Perhaps we might be able to forgive him?” Maria suggested. “He could have a perfectly reasonable explanation for his whereabouts, and here we are sitting in judgment of him.”
“Yes, well, your Phantom Duke might have turned out to be an impeccable gentleman after all, but that is not something that will happen again. People say that my Wuthering Duke prefers the bed of his mistress, and even if he wanted that to change, I no longer believe that I do.”
“You cannot mean that. You do not want him to be with another woman.”
“Who is to say? If he is happy where he is, and I am much the same, what harm does it do?”
It was true, for the most part, but Anna would have been lying if she said that there were not moments, late at night, when she wished that she could experience just once the happiness and pleasure that her friend did.
Maria’s husband had been keeping a terrible secret, and once he told her the truth, they went from strength to strength. Anna had wanted that for herself—had wanted any scrap of affection—for a long time, but she was not a fool. She knew that it would never come, and it was better if she stopped dreaming of it.
“It may not harm you,” Maria replied, “but you do not know what you are missing.”
“Believe me, I do. You have told us often, and in sordid detail.”
Her friend flushed scarlet, her long brunette hair brushing over her cheeks to cover them. What she and her husband did withone another was scandalous, and Anna refused to admit just how much she might have liked such escapades for herself.
Why tempt herself with something she would never have?
A short while later, Theodora asked Maria to show her the new flowers in their garden, and they left the room. Evelina turned to Anna in an instant, green eyes searching.
“You need not tell your sister to have us be left alone together,” Anna chuckled. “You are more than welcome to tell me if you have something to say.”
“I know. Believe me, I had nothing to do with that. My darling little sister seems to have found an interest in botany of all things, and with the Archdalls having such beautiful gardens, it makes sense that she would like to see them.”
