“He wishes to send me? Far be it from me to question Wellington’s wisdom, but there must be someone else better suited to the position. My military rank is one thing, but my title is quite another. Now, now,” he interjected when Roger looked keen to flatter him. “You’re no shrinking violet. It is a well-known fact that my family has long since fallen out of favor with the Crown. Prinny won’t accept a Wilmington in his court, yet he would agree to send one abroad as his representative? Something is amiss.”
Roger sighed, evidently compelled to drop most pretenses now that his wife had strolled out of earshot and Philip had invited him to speak candidly.
“If one were to theorize,” he said, with a look that let Philip know these words had come directly from Wellington, “such circumstances would make His Grace the perfect candidate for the ambassadorial post.”
“You mean to say…” Philip scoffed. “A duke who would not be missed by the nobility, yet has the military experience and the right title to supportLe Désiréand his restoration. And if relations were to sour, the Prince Regent could point to him as an outlier. Wellington would make me Prinny’s whipping boy?”
He sighed, and it turned into a disbelieving laugh.
“Such things will not come to pass,” Roger assured him. “It is my truest belief that the commander sought to honor you with the post.”
Philip supposed Wellington had thus far respected his desire to spend the last year of his commission in peace. He didn’t relish the idea of traveling to France and becoming a glorified diplomat. But when duty called, no soldier worth his salt refused to answer.
And he had to admit, the timing was fortuitous.
It would be easier for Anna to accept their separation if he was called away on an official errand, rather than hiding in their house in London while she remained in Sussex—easier to hide the reality of their marriage from the ton.
But if Wellington’s proposal is as useful and interesting as I think it is, why does the idea of accepting it fill me with such dread?
Philip returned his attention to Roger.
“I shall give the commander my answer in person,” he declared, biding his time. “Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. It is certainly… something to consider.”
“Certainly, Your Grace.”
All it took was a glance in her direction for Elisabeth to come running back to Roger.
Philip bowed as they departed, his mind racing as the little doll in the shop window waited patiently on her piano stool for him to decide what to do next.
CHAPTER21
“What an… unexpected yet intense pleasure to see you both.”
Anna forced her grimace into a smile, standing awkwardly in the doorway of Cotoneaster’s main drawing room. Her family waited inside, their conversation coming to an abrupt halt now that she had made her entrance.
Her mother sat beside her sister in the window seat in the corner—no baby to be seen—as if they were sitting for a painting. Plush cushions, vibrant gowns, rosy cheeks. It was an artist’s dream and Anna’s nightmare.
In the week since she had married Philip, the manor had received a few callers—neighboring lords or gentry folk who had come to pay their respects to the duke and his new wife. Her mother, however, had made no mention of wanting to visit.
Anna was at a disadvantage. She looked down at her plain day dress, feeling embarrassingly drab compared to Rebecca and her luxurious pink traveling attire.
“The duchess descends, at last,” Rosamund said, crossing the room to pull Anna into her arms. She kissed her modestly on the cheek, then held her at arm’s length to inspect her. “What took you so long? We’ve been waiting for half an hour.”
“More like ten minutes. I was only finishing a letter,” Anna lied, not daring to tell her mother the truth—that Elinor was staying with friends overnight, and Philip was nowhere to be seen, so she had spent the greater part of the day reading in bed, stuffing herself with scones, cream, and jam. “Your arrival caught me by surprise.”
“A surprise, yes. I fear there was no time to write. Under normal circumstances, I would never have called so unexpectedly. Rebecca delighted us with a visit yesterday at Bristol Park, but she is needed in York again soon. We had just enough time to bring her down to see you here in Sussex before she is set to depart again. And she did want to see you, most terribly.”
Her mother stepped aside to allow Rebecca to greet her.
Anna tried to hide her dismay, sizing up her sister. Rebecca’s dark blonde hair had been pulled back severely, exposing her enviable features. The clear eyes of their mother, the full lips of their father—she was an English rose to the bone. Despite her new station, Anna still fumed with sisterly envy at the sight of her.
“You won’t be staying long, then?” she asked, breaking the silence.
Rebecca pulled her into a limp hug. “Just long enough to see things with my own eyes. You needn’t bring out your finest tea set on my account.” She released her. “You really are a duchess? Merciful heavens… How did this happen?”
“All things considered, I fear it would take too long to tell the story properly,” Anna replied, hoping that would appease her. “But yes, I really am a duchess. Shall I fetch my marriage contract to prove it?”
Rebecca scoffed. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard everything already. She was the apple of their mother’s eye—and the receptacle of all her secrets and gossip.
