Page 55 of A Virgin to Tempt the Duke

Rachel laughed. Anna felt the corner of her own mouth move.

“The difficulty,” Lady Oldbarrow continued, settling back, “is that sensible women are very good at identifying what is practical, and not always so good at identifying what they want. The two are not always the same thing, as I’m sure you know.”

“What are you talking about, Lady Oldbarrow?” Rachel asked.

“I am merely discussing the novel,” Lady Oldbarrow said serenely as she delicately sipped her tea, though Anna knew she was not merely discussing the novel.

The door opened. Frederick came in and joined them for a cup of tea. Anna’s heartbeat quickened as she thought of their embrace.

“Ah, good afternoon, godson. We were just discussing,” Lady Oldbarrow said, “the particular difficulty of knowing what one wants.”

Frederick looked up from his cup.

“A common difficulty,” he said, after a moment.

“Less common than people suppose,” Lady Oldbarrow said pleasantly. “Most people know precisely what they want. The difficulty is usually something else entirely.” She smiled at Anna. “Don’t you think, Miss Cartwell?”

Anna met her gaze and then looked at Frederick. “I think you may be right.”

Lady Oldbarrow looked between them once, briefly, with the satisfaction of a woman who has confirmed what she came to confirm. Anna watched her turn to Rachel, and asked about the library, and the conversation moved on, and no one said anything further about it. Anna tried to pay attention, but found herself unable to focus.

Frederick excused himself after the first hour. Anna did not watch him go.

She was certain Lady Oldbarrow noticed both things.

CHAPTER 21

Barnes arrived at half past nine. This was earlier than his usual hour, which Frederick noticed when Simmons announced him. He was already at his desk. Rachel and Anna were in the morning room. He told Simmons to show Barnes in and went to the morning room door himself.

“Anna,” he said. “Rachel. Barnes is here.”

They came without questions, which said something about the weeks they had all spent learning to move when things needed moving. The four of them arranged themselves in the study with the familiarity of people who had done this before.

Barnes sat across the desk. Frederick behind it. Rachel beside Anna. Barnes did not open his folder. This was the first deviation from his established pattern, and Frederick registered it immediately.

“I have some unexpected news,” Barnes said. He said it in the particular register he used for things that required care in the delivery—not soft; Barnes was never soft, but deliberate. He looked at Anna. “News that changes the situation materially.”

Anna was very still. “Tell me plainly, Mr. Barnes,” she said.

“Lord Birchall was found dead this morning,” Barnes said. “At a private gaming establishment in St. James’s. He had been there through the night, by several accounts. The circumstances, as relayed to me by the attending physician, indicate a sudden cardiac event.” A pause. “The signs point to a heart attack. There is, as yet, no indication of any other cause.”

The room was quiet.

Anna repeated, “He is dead. Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Barnes said.

“Birchall is dead.”

“Yes, Miss Cartwell.”

She did not say anything else immediately. She was looking at the edge of the desk with the expression of someone trying to locate the correct response and finding that no single one is adequate.

Frederick looked at her. He looked at Rachel, who was looking at Anna with her hand hovering, not quite settled on her arm yet.

“What happens now?” Anna said. Her voice was measured. She was making it measured. He could see the effort of it, and the effort was, for once, not composed but was something rawer underneath. “Practically speaking. What does this mean for the petition?”

Barnes folded his hands. “The petition is no longer necessary. The marriage, as it existed, is concluded by his death. You are not seeking an annulment of a marriage that no longer…” He paused. “Legally, you are his widow. The marriage was contracted, however its circumstances, and his death resolves it conclusively. You are free.”