“Now you’re being dishonest and facetious. And I’m going to keep asking you for a story I can believe,” he huffed. “Has she said something to turn you against me? You were not behaving this way yesterday. You had come to peace with our betrothal.”
“Why does everyone assume that I do not know my own mind? I have a spine, and it’s in perfect working order. So, Your Grace, you will not order me to do anything again, or you and I will have a serious problem.” Anna scowled, turning away from him and looking out the window. “If you must know, Alicia came to warn me against marrying you. Does that surprise you?”
Philip bristled at her tone, but a part of him liked that she was standing up for herself. “No. She is a jealous creature, and misery loves company. It only surprises me that you keep her in such high esteem as to let her position influence yours.”
“She made some convincing arguments.” Anna’s shoulders shook a little, and it took him too long to realize she was laughing rather than crying. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. This whole situation is like a nightmare that won’t end.”
“It will end. Once the wedding has passed, you will learn to feel secure in our marriage. I have spent some time thinking about the two of us, and I am confident that we have made the right decision.” Philip closed the distance between them, moving near enough that he could hear her labored breathing. “Do not allow anyone to come between you and your future. Leave no room for doubt.”
“That sounds like an order,” she remarked, her voice lilting slightly in humor. “Did you mean what you said? About being honest with one another?”
“Sincerely,” he replied, his eyes fixed on the back of her neck, a tendril of chestnut-brown hair curling against the sliver of pale skin there.
“You promise never to lie to me?” she asked. “No matter what I ask? Even if I thought less of you for your answer?”
Philip hesitated. He had no real secrets to keep from her. She had seen the worst of him already.
“Yes. And I expect the same of you,” he said. He thought back to the night of the opera. “If there is anything you must confess before we marry, I would hear it. We must enter this marriage unburdened by the past.”
She turned slowly, looking up at him, her eyes roving over his face. He felt scrutinized, like she was searching for something. He swallowed as she bit her lower lip in thought, heat rising within him.
“I have no secrets to tell,” she mumbled.
“Everyone has secrets.”
“Not me. None that matter. But you almost look like you wish I did.”
Philip furrowed his brow, wondering what game she was playing. He started saying something else, but he was cut off by the sound of the front door closing at the other end of the house. That would be the earl, returning from wherever he had gone so that they could discuss the details of the wedding.
“You have an appointment to keep,” Anna reminded him, tilting her head to the side in challenge. “And I have friends to dismiss. I’ll keep in mind what you said. There may be things I have to ask yet if I can ever find the courage.”
CHAPTER17
Aweek later, Philip stood outside a chapel on the outskirts of Bath. Every Duke of Wells in history was married at Westminster Abbey in London.
When discussing the location of his wedding to Anna, her mother had advocated for tradition, wanting all of London to witness her daughter become a duchess, despite the scandal blemishing their betrothal. Anna and Philip had refused, preferring a modest ceremony, out of sight.
They had settled on the chapel where Anna’s maternal grandparents had wed, a short ride from the Earl of Bristol’s country seat, where the wedding breakfast would be held later that day.
Philip squinted up at the sky that morning. A bright blue, speckled with clouds. The week had passed in a blur, with preparations being made in all haste for the wedding. He had written to the staff of his country manor in Sussex, ordering them to prepare the house for his new bride and sister. He would stay a few days to ensure that Anna didn’t run away. Then, he would return to London, where he could start leading his separate life.
Turning his snuffbox over in his pocket, his mind turned to Graham. He winced, knowing his friend would have disapproved of every decision he had made regarding Anna.
It had been easy for Graham and Elinor. They had met in their childhood and promised themselves to one another before her first Season. Not for the first time Philip thought how unfair it all was. Graham deserved to be standing there instead of him.
Elinor appeared suddenly in the periphery of his vision. For the first time in months, she was dressed in a color other than black, and the purple satin of her gown shone in the sun. Her bonnet hung loosely from her hand as she turned her face toward the light.
“Did you walk here all the way from Bristol Park?” Philip asked, crossing the cobbled path to meet her. He pressed a formal kiss to her cheek, still not sure whether she had forgiven him. “The wedding is not for another hour.”
“I wanted to stretch my legs,” she explained, turning in a circle to observe their surroundings. “Can you blame me? I’ve been locked away in London for so long that I forgot what fresh air feels like against my skin. If you had married a day earlier, I would still have been in full mourning. I know people will scoff at the color.” She looked down at her dress. “But Graham will forgive me from his seat high in heaven for not sporting such a melancholy color as black on the day of my brother’s wedding… I can scarcely believe any of this real.”
Philip followed her gaze as it traveled to the nearby woods. “If we hadn’t been constrained by time, I would never have set the date for today.”
“Don’t say that.” Elinor smiled, shaking her head softly. “It’s fitting. My marriage ended on the day yours began. I think there’s poetry in that. I like it.” She scowled suddenly. “But you do not look nearly as enthused as I feel. Did you come to speak with the parish rector? Or were you merely trying to hide out here from your future wife and her family?”
“I needed some time to myself.”
Philip looked up at the chapel behind him. He had arrived at the house late the previous evening and had made his introductions that morning. There were more guests than he would have liked—so many that they weren’t sure how everyone would fit in the small country church. It was a wonder so many aristocrats had been able to drop everything and attend a wedding on such short notice.
