The dowager gave a self-satisfied nod, as if her suspicions had been confirmed, and Anya cursed inwardly. She might have known she wouldn’t be able to keep the story from the duchess indefinitely.
“He says he doesn’t care if she’s been ruined by her captors,” the duchess said mildly. “His love for her will forgive any slight. He’ll marry her even if she’s ruined.”
Anya couldn’t keep silent. Blood was pounding in her temples. She grasped the surge of anger, since it was preferable to the icy shards of fear that had pieced her on hearing Vasili was here, in London.
“Hewill forgive any slight? It’s nothishonor that’s in question! It’s the woman’s right to forgive—or not to forgive—as she sees fit.” She thumped her palm on the leather tabletop. “This is what I hate about ‘polite society.’ If a woman is taken against her will, she’s ruined. If she gives herself to a manwillingly, before marriage, she’s ruined. Yet no one expects amanto go to his marriage bed untouched. It’s such a double standard!”
“Bravo!” The dowager chuckled. “And I quite agree. Society’s full of such inequalities and ridiculous expectations. If Count Petrov’s fiancée disappeared, I’m sure there’s a far more reasonable explanation than kidnapping. Perhaps she didn’t really want to marry him?” She studied Anya’s burning cheeks. “In fact, I think that’sexactlywhat happened.”
Anya met her gaze and felt resistance bleeding out of her.
“We’ve become friends over the past months, have we not?” the duchess said softly.
“Yes, ma’am. And I have been extremely grateful for your kindness toward me.”
The dowager snorted. “Oh, pish. It’s hardly kindness to enjoy the company of an intelligent young woman. Most girls in thetonare vapid, well-bred twits. I get far more from you than you get from me. And you can trust me to keep your secrets, child. YouarePetrov’s missing fiancée, are you not? The Princess Denisova?”
Anya sighed. “I am the princess, or, at least, Iwas,but I amnotPetrov’s fiancée. He wanted to marry me, and I refused. On several occasions. He did not take the rejection well.”
“Men rarely do.” The dowager’s expression darkened. “Did he hurt you, child?”
“He would have done, if Elizaveta hadn’t hit him with a vase. I tried to make it look as though I’d killed myself. We escaped Paris and came here. I hoped he’d forget all about me.”
“Apparently not,” the duchess said grimly. “What a tangle. I take it he’s the reason you never wanted to attend any society gatherings with me?”
“Yes.”
“Well, he’s here now, whether by luck or design.” A mischievous twinkle appeared in her dark eyes. “Do you know, I’ve grown quite tired of thetonlately. So exhausting. I need a little time in the country, to rusticate. You can keep me company.” She closed the book of fairy tales with a decisive thump. “Bring this along. It’s much quieter at Everleigh. You’ll be better able to concentrate.”
Anya reached down and gave the dowager an impulsive hug.
The older woman stiffened in surprise, then returned the gesture with an affectionate chuckle. “There, there. It will be all right. Do you recall my youngest nephew, Sebastien?”
Anya straightened in alarm.Recall him?She hadn’t stopped thinking about him for the past week. That kisshad been the stuff of epic fantasy and fevered, confusing dreams.
She’d finally asked Charlotte what had happened after she’d left the brothel. To her surprise, instead of taking Nan upstairs, Lord Mowbray had made his excuses and left.
She shouldn’t have felt relief. The man was a stranger. A healthy, single male, fully within his rights to sate his physical needs wherever he chose. She shouldn’t care who or what he did.
But part of her was glad.
“I don’t believe you’ve ever met him,” the duchess said, oblivious to Anya’s inattention. “Nor his older brother, Geoffrey. He’s heir to the dukedom, of course, but a bit of a stick in the mud. Sebastien’s my favorite. He’s an utter rogue, but always willing to help. I’ll ask him to accompany us to Everleigh as an outrider, for extra protection.”
“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be necessary!” Anya said quickly. “I’m sure he’s very busy. Didn’t you tell me he owns a gambling club?”
“He does, indeed.” The dowager nodded, a hint of pride in her expression. “And he’s made a damn fine go of it too. I expect you’re right, however. Heisvery busy. Perhaps he can suggest a couple of burly young men instead? It doesn’t hurt to be sensible.”
Anya’s shoulders sank in relief. The thought seeing Sebastien Wolff again was… unsettling.
“How long do you need to get packed?”
“An hour or so. And I would like to say goodbye to Elizaveta. She finishes work at four.”
“She’s welcome to come too. Everleigh has twenty-two bedrooms.”
Anya shook her head. “She wouldn’t want to leave heremployment. Or her beau. I think she’ll be glad of the space.”
The dowager nodded in understanding.
