“Any questions I have about the house can be answered by your sister when she joins us tomorrow.” It felt wrong to punish him, but she couldn’t help herself. “It needn’t be a silent journey, but I would prefer it that way.”
Anna nodded with a little moue, convinced she had gained the upper hand. It was a hollow victory. Being callous didn’t make her feel good.
“I have exhausted myself trying to make this day as painless as possible for you,” Philip said after a moment’s silence, surprising her. He rested his head on his clenched fist, staring out the window. “And for my effort, you have rewarded me with a lack of manners I never expected from you. What has changed?”
Anna looked down in shame. “I had hoped that this day would go quite differently.”
“You and I both. But that does not explain your behavior.” He turned to her, compelling her to look at him. “Will you punish me forever for my mistake?”
She wondered what mistake he meant. Leading them into a marriage… or whatever affair he had with Alicia? If she hadn’t been so afraid of the answer, she would have asked him outright for the truth.
“I don’t know,” was all she could say. “But I will avoid being short with you so long as I can.”
Their journey stretched on, and Philip occupied himself with silence. Anna feigned sleeping, her mind racing, until they reached the first stop of their journey.
She remained inside the carriage as Philip stepped out for a walk, hoping he still thought she was unconscious. The insides of her mouth had been chewed to shreds, and she bit down hard in surprise when the door at her side swung open.
Philip reached out to stop her from toppling to the ground, gripping the carriage door with his other hand. He held her long enough to steady her, leveling her with a particularly damning look, before stepping away.
“You need fresh air,” he said, gesturing around. “And something better to do with your time than pretending to be asleep.”
CHAPTER19
Cotoneaster Manor was located in West Sussex and had been the Wilmington family seat since the days of the Tudors. Philip had been born there like every heir before him, but he hadn’t returned since leaving for Oxford over ten years ago.
The building was larger than he remembered, a coastal fortress in style. The English flag fluttered from the ramparts, with their family’s coat of arms—a dark stag on a white and crimson shield—flying proudly beneath.
The staff at Cotoneaster had lined themselves in an orderly fashion outside the house. The housekeeper and butler had survived his parents—Mrs. and Mr. Granville, now both in their late middle ages. Their son Hector worked as a groundskeeper, and Philip had fond memories of him. If they had arrived any earlier than dusk, he would have excused himself with Hector immediately to get away from Anna and her frosty temperament.
“Your Grace,” Mr. Granville greeted, bowing to his new master. “We are honored to have you in residence with us once again.”
“After all these years,” Philip said absently, staring at the stony facade of the building. It conjured more memories than he cared to remember. “I take it things are in order?”
While the butler explained the changes they had made to the house, Philip watched out of the corner of his eye as Anna spoke with the housekeeper.
Cotoneaster was perched on top of a hill, and rolling, chalky fields stretched outward in every direction. The fortress brooked a centuries-old battle with the coastal wind from the south, and it greeted them fiercely that evening, flags flapping excitedly overhead.
Anna struggled to keep her bonnet in place, clutching it with delicate hands. Her chestnut-brown hair whipped around her face, her beauty accentuated by the golden light of the hour. Philip averted his eyes as his heart skipped a beat, disappointed with himself for admiring her so openly.
Once introductions were made, he called for everyone to enter and led the way indoors. The servants dispersed, and Anna wandered away too, examining the paintings in the main hall with her arms crossed over her chest—staring up at generations of Wilmingtons, each one less honorable than the last.
“We have prepared the solar for Her Grace’s daytime exertions,” Mrs. Granville said after a while, turning to draw Anna’s arrested attention. “And you will both find the master bedchambers arranged to your liking.”
His mother and father’s old chambers—which meant Anna would be occupying the room directly beside his. Philip tried to hide his displeasure.
“It will do for tonight. Once she has familiarized herself with Cotoneaster, she may claim any room she desires,” he said, raising his voice to make sure Anna heard. “Would you show the duchess upstairs? She has had a long and tiring day. Supper would best be taken in her room.”
He cast a sidelong glance at Anna. She shrugged and followed Mrs. Granville up the stairs. An evening apart would allow their tempers to cool.
They didn’t see one another again until much later that night, when he retired for the evening. He stood before the door to his new chambers in the family wing, mustering the courage to enter his new sleeping quarters. The room in which his father had died.
He half-expected the decayed corpse of his father to be lying abed, struggling to admit a death he hadn’t seen with his own eyes.
Suddenly, the door adjacent to his cracked open. Anna exited slowly, still dressed in her traveling clothes. She saw him and started, stepping aside so quickly that she backed painfully into the doorframe.
“I didn’t know you would be here,” she said, rubbing her back.
“You would not have come out otherwise.”
