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The Duchess Audition

Page 73

by Tiffany Baton

Is it, perhaps, that I do not want to know?

Marina was not his previous wife; he knew that. But he could not help the past replaying in his mind: all the nights he had heard Emilia creeping through the house, coming in late; all of the secrets that had tortured him for almost four long years. It had seemed wiser to ignore it back then, and old habits were hard to shake.

Even now.

So, he waited until he heard the faint sound of Marina’s bedchamber door closing, and only then did he head out of the drawing room.

“Did she say where she was all day?” Anthony asked the butler, who was in the midst of locking the front door for the night.

The man jumped. “Goodness, Your Grace, I did not hear you.” He bowed his head politely. “She went to London. I believe she said she attended a meeting with two physicians from the Royal College, then dined with a friend. A Lady Yvette, I think it was.”

“Oh…” Anthony needed to take a half step back from the revelation.

He had been bracing himself for the worst, unable to concentrate all day, ears pricking at the slightest sound from outside. Despite what his grandmother had said this morning, he had still convinced himself that Marina was up to something sneaky and destructive.

To hear such a reasonable explanation was more of a shock than if he had been told that she had just wandered in declaring that she planned to run away with the stablemaster.

“Will that be all, Your Grace?” the butler asked.

Anthony nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, thank you. That will be all.”

He turned in something like a daze and echoed his wife’s path to the landing. There, he glanced toward her side, allowed himself a small smile, then headed in the opposite direction, knowing that at least for tonight, he would sleep well. Safe in the knowledge that Marina was nothing like her predecessor.

The ensuing week provided little comfort to Anthony, for Marina seemed determined to keep herself to herself. She allowed William to read in the library with her, and spent two hours with him in the gardens or playing a game in the house, but aside from that, she was entirely absent.

She did not come to breakfast or luncheon or dinner, and for at least three of those seven days, she had gone out again. Leaving at midday, returning late, always with a believable excuse that should have put Anthony’s mind at ease, but fell short.

But it was not until the beginning of another bewildering week that Anthony decided he could not sit back anymore.

Marina had just come in, the footmen laden down with boxes that appeared to be from the modiste. Elegant packages that must have cost a considerable sum.

“Ah, you took my advice!” Harriet crooned, getting to her first. “A new wardrobe for a new duchess. How splendid.”

Marina smiled tightly. “Just a few things.”

“Well, let me see,” Harriet urged, reaching for one of the boxes.

Marina snatched the box and held it to her chest, shaking her head. “Another time. I have not yet decided what I am keeping and what needs alteration, but I will show you once I have decided.”

Anthony, standing in the doorway of the drawing room, observed the scene with rising suspicion.

His grandmother, on the other hand, did not seem to take any offense at the behavior.

“Of course, my dear. Of course.” She patted Marina gently on the arm. “I shall be ready to offer my opinion whenever you are ready to show me. Indeed, I shall look forward to the surprise!”

Marina dipped her head shyly and instructed the footmen to bring the boxes to her library.

Not her chambers? Anthony narrowed his eyes, eager to know what was actually in those packages. When had Marina ever shown any interest in fashion before? And it was not as if they had any plans to attend any coming events.

As she passed into the hallway that led to her library, she caught his eye. With a nervous smile, she bobbed her head to him, and continued on without a word.

He strode to the entrance of the hallway, calling after her, “Marina?”

She paused, turning, her eyes slightly wild. “Yes?”

“I am worried you are not eating properly,” he said, which was not entirely a lie. “Make sure you come to dinner this evening.”

She blinked, slowly nodding. “Of course. Yes, of course. I shall see you then.”