Page 38 of A Virgin to Tempt the Duke

Not quickly, and not with any particular display of gratitude. But he ate it directly from her hand, and he did not step back when he had finished. He stayed where he was, and lifted his head. For one moment, his nose touched her finger. Then, he turned and walked away toward the hearth. Anna stayed crouched for a moment after he had gone.

“Well,” Anna said, to no one in particular, as she stood up and smoothed her skirts.

Barnes arrived at half past ten. He was a stout, stocky man of around fifty, with the bearing of someone who had concluded that speed and precision were worth considerably more than reassurance. He shook Frederick’s hand and accepted the chair across the desk. He refused tea, which was, Anna thought, either efficiency or a statement.

She sat in the chair beside Rachel at the edge of the room, where she had been placed not quite as an observer and not quite as a participant. She was someone whose presence was required, andwhose comfort was secondary. Rachel had her hands folded and her back very straight, which was Rachel’s version of bracing for something.

“The statements,” Barnes said, setting a folder on the desk, “are in good order. Your Grace’s account, Miss Cartwell’s deposition are both clear, both consistent, both sufficient in terms of establishing the circumstances of the marriage and the grounds for annulment.” He did not dwell on it, for which Anna was grateful. “The initial filing can proceed on this basis. However…”

Frederick said nothing. He was watching Barnes with his usual stillness but had begun running his hand through his hair. “However,” Barnes said again, “my clerks have been unable to locate Miss Cartwell’s maid. A Miss…” He consulted the folder.

“Maura,” Anna said, from her chair. “Miss Maura Marsh.”

“He looked up briefly. “She was engaged as your personal maid before the wedding?”

“She had been with me for two years,” Anna said. “She was present throughout the morning of the ceremony. She helped me dress.”

“And after the wedding?”

Anna kept her voice even. “I assume Lord Birchall dismissed the household staff I would have brought with me. My cousin would have no need… You see, when I was removed from the house, Ihad no ability to…” She paused. “I was not in a position to make enquiries.”

Barnes pursed his lips. He looked back at his papers. “She was not retained by any member of the Birchall or Edgeware households or their connections, as far as my clerks have established. She does not appear to have returned to her previous employment. Her family is in Surrey.” He closed the folder. “We will find her. I want to be direct with you about that. It may take another two weeks, perhaps three. Her testimony as a corroborating witness… an independent account of the events of that morning from someone with direct access… would make the petition considerably more difficult to contest.”

“And without her?” Frederick asked.

“Without her, the case can still proceed. It is not substantially weaker. But the opposition will look for every available foothold, and the absence of a corroborating witness is the kind of thing they will attempt to use.” He said it without apology, which Anna appreciated more than she would have appreciated softness. “With her, it becomes very difficult for anyone to challenge the account.”

Frederick leaned forward, very slightly. “I will put my own men on it. We will find her before two weeks are done.”

Barnes regarded him for a moment. “That would be useful, Your Grace.”

“Then it is done.”

Barnes rose, and Frederick rose with him, and the meeting was over as precisely and efficiently as it had begun. The folder was put back. The handshake was brief.

Barnes said, “I will expect to hear from Your Grace’s men. I shall be in contact the moment there is progress.”

Then, he was in the corridor and gone. The room resettled into quiet. Anna looked at her hands, which were in her lap and very still, and concentrated on keeping them that way.

Two weeks. Perhaps three.

“Anna.” Rachel’s voice, close.

She looked up. Frederick was standing beside the desk, looking at her, and he had the expression he sometimes had when his face had moved before he had decided about it. Not the surface. Something below it, tighter, more present. He crossed the room and stopped in front of her chair.

“It will be over,” he said. “Not maybe. Not if we find her. We will find her, and it will be over, and you will have everything that should have been yours from the beginning.”

She looked at him. He was not telling her what she wanted to hear. She had been in the same room with him long enough by now to know that he did not do that. He said things because he had already decided they were true and was informing her of the fact, and the distinction mattered.

“He’s right,” Rachel said, from just behind his shoulder. “And Frederick’s people are very good. If Maura is in England, they will find her.”

“If…” Anna started.

“She is in England,” Frederick said. There was a quiet firmness in his voice. “A young woman from Wiltshire who was suddenly let go in London without reference or warning. She would have gone home. People go home…We will find her,” he said with confidence.

Anna breathed in. Then out. She looked at the window, at the grey London morning, and then she looked back at him.

“All right,” she said.