Duchess of Sin (9 page)

But hiding under the bedclothes would just convince her mother that she was indeed ill, even as she claimed
so vehemently to be well. She would be locked away with doctors and cups of beef tea for days when there was so much to do.
So many mysteries to unravel.

Katherine studied her closely as she removed her own hat, and her eyes were much too shrewd and discerning. It was always
difficult to fool her mother, though Anna could certainly do it when she set her mind to it. She gave her mother a cheerful
smile.

“Caroline, I’m afraid your sister took a spill from her horse,” Katherine said. “I made the carriage come home very slowly
so she would not be jostled.”

“Which I said was quite unnecessary,” Anna said. “I am perfectly well.”

“
Anna
fell from her horse?” Caroline cried. She dashed down the stairs and seized Anna’s hands in hers, carefully scanning her
for injuries. “How can that be? You never fall! Unlike me; horses hate me.”

“Psyche was startled, that’s all,” said Anna. “I was not paying proper attention.”

“Were you flirting with someone?” Caroline asked.

Anna laughed. “Of course! What else is the promenade hour for? I was talking to a
duke.
”

“A duke! How fascinating,” said Caroline. “You’ve always said you wanted to be a duchess. Was he terribly handsome? Will you
dance with him at the Fitzwalters’ ball?”

“She will not,” Katherine interrupted, “because Anna must stay home and rest, not go dancing at balls.”

“Mama!” Anna protested. But she could say no more, for the butler, Smythe, stepped forward to gain her mother’s attention.

“I beg your pardon, my lady,” he said, “but the drawing teacher is waiting for you in the library.”

“Oh, I had quite forgotten about that appointment in all the excitement,” Katherine said, a little frown creasing her pale
brow. The Angel of Kildare never kept anyone waiting, not even teachers.

“Shall I ask him to come back tomorrow?” Smythe asked.

“You should ask him to go to perdition,” Caroline muttered.

“Caroline, that is quite enough.” Katherine glanced at Anna, clearly torn between keeping her appointment and fussing over
her daughter.

Anna did not feel like being fussed over. “Go on, Mama. Caro will look after me for a while. This is the
French
drawing teacher, yes? You shouldn’t let him get away.”

“Very well,” Katherine said reluctantly. “Send in some tea please, Smythe, and tell Monsieur Courtois I will be with him shortly.
Caroline, take your sister to her chamber and make sure she lies down.”

“Yes, Mama,” Anna said meekly. Before Caroline could argue again, Anna seized her arm and dragged her along up the stairs.
Her maid, Rose, already waited in her chamber with hot water and a clean gown.

As Anna set about tidying up, Caroline flopped down across the bed. Her spectacles flew across the coverlet. “I suppose with
all the flirting and such you did not have time to speak to Mama about the lessons.”

“I did,” Anna said. She winced as Rose dragged the brush through her tangled hair. “And she said she thought you might enjoy
improving your drawing. You could use it to copy illustrations for your research or for sketching historical sites.”

“That is true, I suppose,” Caroline said grudgingly. “But it will still take up so much time. I’m pressed to find spare hours
to read as it is, what with dancing and deportment and all that.”

“Perhaps if you do very well at drawing, you could persuade Mama to let you drop another lesson,” Anna said. Rose buttoned
her into a fresh, long-sleeved muslin dress that hid the bruises on her hip and shoulder. “And maybe this French teacher is
handsome. That would make the lessons fly by, I’m sure.”

Caroline rolled over onto her stomach. “Don’t be silly, Anna. What use is a handsome Frenchman to me?”

“Oh, yes, I forgot. You are practically betrothed to Lord Hartley and his library.”

Caroline gave an unladylike snort. “Forget Lord Hartley and Frenchmen. Tell me about this duke. He must be terribly attractive
to make you lose your seat on a horse. Is he more handsome than Grant Dunmore?”

Anna closed her eyes, picturing Adair in her mind. His black hair and roughly chiseled face, the mocking laughter in his eyes.
The anger, and fear, as he knelt beside her on the ground. “He is not nearly as handsome as Sir Grant. Some would say he is
not handsome at all. But he is—complicated.”

“Complicated?” Caroline propped her chin on her fist and stared at Anna keenly. “That sounds terribly interesting. Most of
your suitors are no more complex than their own hunting hounds.”

Anna laughed. “Oh, thank you very much, Caro! I know I am far too shallow to attract any men
you
deem interesting, but they are not all that bad. Some are rather sweet.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s just the way they’re brought up, like Papa. They aren’t taught to think for themselves, I suppose,
or imagine a world different than the one they grew up in.”

Anna pushed away the rice powder Rose offered and went to sit on the bed with Caroline. “Well, this duke is Irish, with some
kind of terribly ancient title, so maybe he was brought up differently than all our Ascendancy suitors.”

“An Irish duke? Now that is very interesting. How did he come by this title? Is he Catholic?”

Anna wondered those things herself, and so much more. Adair was an intriguing puzzle, one she longed to decipher, clue by
intriguing clue. “I have no idea about his title, though I think his estate is near Killinan Castle. And I suppose he is Catholic,
though I don’t know for sure.”

“However did you meet him?”

Anna could hardly tell her the truth. That would be her own secret, and Adair’s, forever. “When he came to my aid today, of
course. He was the first to reach me when I fell.”

“How romantic. A dashing, not-quite handsome Irish duke coming to your rescue. I’m sure he has many tales that would be so
useful for my research. When can I catch a glimpse of him?”

“Soon, maybe. He asked if he could call on us here, and Mama said yes.”

“Mama agreed?” Caroline said, her eyes wide with astonishment. “Oh, my. Now I wish I had gone riding with you today.”

There was a knock at the door, and a parlor maid came
in with a curtsy. “Lady Cannondale is downstairs, Lady Anna. She says she wants to see if you are well.”

Anna nearly laughed aloud. The butler would be quite chagrined at all the activity so late in the day! Smythe was quite proper
and anxious to uphold all the proprieties, including calling hours. “Send her up to my sitting room, please, and ask the butler
to arrange for some refreshments.”

Maybe Jane would know something about Adair. She did seem to know all the gossip, and she was a member of the Olympian Club
after all.

“I will leave you to Lady Cannondale’s care, Anna,” Caroline said as she slid off the bed. She found her lost spectacles and
pushed them back on her nose. “I have more reading to do before dinner.”

“You’re not going to listen at the library door, are you?”

Caroline sniffed. “Of course not. I am not so mischievous as you, sister.”

“No one is.” Anna hurried next door to her own sitting room where Jane already waited. She still wore her green carriage dress
from the park, so obviously she had not yet gone home to prepare for the evening out.

“Oh, Anna my dear!” she cried, and rushed forward to kiss Anna’s cheek. “I just heard of your accident. Are you terribly hurt?”

“Only my pride. My fine equestrian reputation will be quite ruined.”

“I’m just sorry that I had already left.” They were interrupted by the servants bringing in tea, and only once they were settled
by the fire did Jane go on. “It sounds so exciting. Tell me, is it true the Duke of Adair came to your rescue?”

Anna nodded as she stirred at her tea. “I happened to be speaking with him when—when it happened.” She remembered the pop
and whine of the bullets, whizzing past her toward him, and she shivered. They were both very lucky.

“Were you really? Hmm.” Jane took a thoughtful sip. “I daresay Grant Dunmore won’t like
that.
”

“No, he did not. I thought there might be a brawl right there on St. Stephen’s Green.”

“So he was there, too?”

Anna nodded.

“Oh, my dear.” Jane gave a delighted laugh. “How delicious. And to think I missed it all.”

“The duke said they were cousins of some sort. I take it there is no family love lost.”

“To say the least.” Jane set her cup down and leaned forward in her chair, as if settling in for a good coze. “Do you not
recall that old business over the estate? Adair Court is not terribly far from Killinan.”

Anna also leaned forward so as not to miss a word. Jane did always know the
on dits.
“Unless it happened in the last year or two, I might not have heard. Mama didn’t like us listening to neighborhood gossip
when we were girls.” She didn’t like it very much now, either, but she couldn’t stop Anna.

“You did not know Adair almost lost the estate, which his family has held on to for centuries, due to the old Penal Laws?”

“Yes, I did hear something of that,” Anna said. Under the harsh old Penal Laws against Irish Catholics, which had only been
fully revoked in 1793, a Protestant could sue to take possession of a Catholic relative’s land if he
could prove the Catholic was disloyal to the Crown or misused the property. Since a Catholic was thought by definition to
be disloyal, it was not a hard claim to make, but in truth that law was very seldom enforced at all. Most Irish families tended
to protect their own, no matter what their disagreements.

But the Adair case had been a spectacular one. Titled lords fighting over thousands of acres and hundreds of tenants, a fine
ancient castle. And…

“No!” Anna cried. She slumped back in her seat, feeling like a fool for being so shocked. She should have realized immediately
when she saw them together, put together the old stories and their obvious hatred for each other.

“It was Grant Dunmore who brought the suit,” she whispered.

Jane nodded. “He never really had a chance, of course. Adair might be many unsavory things, but he
is
a duke. His ancestors held on to that title for centuries through whatever means necessary, and he is quite their ruthless
equal. Dunmore was a fool to try it out. But his estate in Queen’s County is nothing compared to Adair Court. He wanted property
to match his ambitions, and it blinded him to reality. He made a bad enemy of his cousin.”

Still stunned by the depth of the poison between Adair and Grant Dunmore, Anna shook her head. “How do you know all this?”

“Everyone knows. But my husband was one of the members of Parliament who heard the case. He was always very chatty, my Harry.”
Jane gave her a sly smile. “And now they have you to fight over, A. How wonderful.”

Anna crossed her arms against a sudden harsh feeling
of anger and foolishness, and a cold understanding. “I am not a bone for two snarling mongrels to fight over.”

“I hardly think a duke and a baronet could be called mongrels.”

“I don’t want to be mixed up in that old business! There is too much hatred and division in this country already. It can’t
be good to toss fuel on old embers.”

“You’re quite right, of course. But forgive and forget is hardly the Irish way, is it, my dear? The enmity between those two
goes beyond any lawsuit or pretty woman. You do not have to be their pawn, though.
You
can use
them
to your own advantage.”

“What do you mean?” Anna asked, now thoroughly confused. “Short of taking a riding crop to both of them, I can’t imagine I
could ever control them. And I can’t see what
advantage
I could find in them, either.”

Jane toyed idly with the ribbons of her dress, smiling mysteriously. “Do you not? Well, I must leave you to think about it
then. I have to go home and change for that card party. I suppose we won’t be seeing you there?”

Anna shook her head. She was only half-listening; her mind still reeled with all this new, fascinating information. “No, but
I am sure I can persuade Mama to let me attend the Fitzwalters’ ball tomorrow.”

“Oh, I so much hope you can. Since I missed the excitement at the park today, I must pray for another show.”

“I doubt that will happen. Adair never goes about in Society, does he?”

“Somehow I have the feeling his reclusive habits are about to change.” Jane rose to her feet and kissed Anna’s cheek again
before she smoothed on her gloves. “I am so happy you’re unhurt, Anna. You will think of all I’ve said?”

“Of course, Jane. Good-bye until tomorrow.”

After her friend departed, Anna wandered over to the window to stare down at the street. Beyond the ivy-covered portico, Henrietta
Street was quiet in the gathering darkness. No one was yet abroad in the darkened streets. They were all preparing for parties
or the theater, or perhaps for more daring fare. Perhaps some of them were going to the Olympian Club.

Was Adair there now? She closed her eyes and pictured him tying on a mask, moving through the empty rooms that would soon
fill up with laughter and lust, the despair of money lost and the excitement of flirtatious glances and new affairs.

How she wished she were there, too. Despite her tiredness and the ache of her bruises, that old plague of restlessness was
even stronger tonight. It was like an imp of mischief deep inside of her, urging her on to new trouble.

She opened her eyes and stared out blindly at the gathering twilight. If she did want trouble, she need look no further than
Adair. He was danger come to dark, thrilling life, full of mystery and secret—or not so secret—enmities. He was intriguing;
she could not deny it. But it seemed that somewhere in her heart, hidden away, so tiny she could hardly see it, was a kernel
of her mother’s prudence.

She would not put on her own mask and sneak out tonight, no matter how much she wanted to. She had much to consider. Jane
had said there was an “advantage” to be had in the feud between Adair and Grant Dunmore. Anna had no idea what that meant.