Page 26 of A Virgin to Tempt the Duke

Lady Oldbarrow’s eyes moved to her as she delicately popped a grape in her mouth. “And?”

“He believes the grounds are sufficient to file with my written testimony and his Grace’s corroboration. Coercion, no consummation, the manner of the ceremony itself…” She looked at the table. “There is still just the question of Maura.”

“Your maid?” Rachel asked.

“Yes. His Grace has arranged for someone to approach her in London. Discreetly, without any connection to me or to this house. A contact of his, apparently, who can make the inquiry and assess whether she is willing to provide a statement without…without Jonathan finding out she’s been approached.”

“She would be a strong witness,” Lady Oldbarrow said. “A lady’s maid present on the morning of the wedding. She would have laid out the dress, seen your state of mind, understood what was happening.”

“She was frightened, my Lady,” Anna said. “I could see it when she woke me. She knew it was wrong and she had no power to do anything about it.” She pressed her lips together. “I don’t want her threatened or dismissed on my account. If she says she can’t speak, I will understand.”

“And if she can?” Rachel asked.

“Then we have everything the attorney needs to win.” Anna turned her teacup in its saucer. “After that ,though, it becomes public.”

The table was quiet for a moment.

“You are very calm about it,” Lady Oldbarrow observed.

“I’ve had time to decide,” Anna said. “The worst thing has already happened. Everything now is just…the shape of what comes after.”

Lady Oldbarrow held her gaze for a moment. Then she reached for another grape.

“Quite right,” she said. “These are quite good.”

Rachel reached across the table and pressed Anna’s hand briefly, and Anna let her, and then she straightened.

“Now, Lady Oldbarrow,” Anna started. “Please do tell me about the Thistledown christening. Rachel mentioned something terribly funny happened with the cake.” She had found, in the past weeks, that the best way to stop being the subject of a conversation was to replace yourself with a better one.

It worked. Rachel lit up immediately as Lady Oldbarrow began to speak.

There’s the little rascal.

Anna spotted him near the end of lunch. Percy was at the far edge of the south lawn, perhaps thirty yards away. Not quite at the tree line, not quite in the open. He was sitting as cats do when they are observing something. In this case, “something” was quite clearly the table. She took a piece of cold chicken and wrapped it in a napkin.

“Excuse me a moment,” she said quietly, and stood.

Rachel glanced at her. Anna tilted her head toward the far end of the lawn. Rachel followed the direction, registered Percy, and looked back at Anna with a raised eyebrow, just like her brother did. Anna walked toward the far lawn at the pace of someone going for a short turn, unhurried, not looking directly at her destination.

When she was close enough for it to matter, she stopped.

Percy had not moved. He was watching her carefully. Anna crouched down. She unwrapped the napkin and extended it, the piece of chicken sitting in the center. Percy looked at it. Looked at her.

“I know,” she said. “You don’t trust me. That’s all right.”

He looked at the chicken again, then up at her.

“You don’t have to come any closer,” she said. “But I’m going to leave this here, and if you’d like it, it’s yours.”

She lowered the napkin to the grass, set the chicken on the edge of it, and stood. Took two steps back. Then three more, and turned slightly, so that she was no longer looking directly at him.

She watched him from the side of her vision. Percy sat, stared at the chicken, stared at Anna’s shoulder. A bird went somewhere overhead, and Percy’s ears turned without the rest of him moving and then returned.

He stood.

He walked toward the napkin, sniffed for a moment, then ate the chicken. Anna did not say anything, did not move, and did not let herself smile until he had finished and sauntered away back to his spot.

ThenAnna smiled. Triumphantly.