Page 8 of Stealing His Duchess

“He kidnapped you.” Rowland stated plainly, as his fist curled around the sheet tightly.

Anna winced. “He did not use that precise word.”

“What word did he use, Anna? Because I confess I am struggling to think of a kinder one for a man who has his footmen seize a woman off the street at night and drag her into his home.”

“He believed I was Edith. I have told you that already.” Anna pressed her fingers to her temple, the beginnings of a headache gathering there, unsure of why it sounded like she was defending him. “It does not excuse what he did – I have no intention of advocating for him, Rowland, whatever it may sound like. I was scared. I was scared and angry – especially once I understood what he intended by bringing Edith there in the first place.”

Rowland's expression shifted, the anger tempering, just slightly, into something closer to worry. “What did he intend?”

She sighed dejectedly, recalling how distress the situation had put her through. “To pay her off. To offer her money to leave his brother – who I had not known she was entangled with. I knew he was a man of high standing, but the brother of a duke? Dear me… He also sought to have her leave the country, as though her affection for him were something that could simply be purchased and disposed of. I-I told him precisely what I thought of that plan, and of him, and I do not regret a single word of it, whatever trouble it may have caused.”

“Of course you do not,” Rowland said, sounding strangely proud and fond for a moment before his expression fell again. “That still does not excuse any of it, Anna. None of it.”

Anna opened her mouth to answer, though she knew that, honestly, there was no answer that would soften the recounting of the events, but was interrupted by the reappearance of the butler.

He waited until they acknowledged him, momentarily suspending their conversation before he announced,

“My lord. The Duke of Wolvesley is here to see you.”

Instantly, Rowland’s expression darkened, and he ordered.

“Send him in at once. He has some explaining to do.”

Hudson Elkins had faced down many opponents, creditors, rivals, and men who wished him considerable ill in the course of his business dealings, and none of them had unsettled him half as much as the prospect of seeing the woman from last night again.

It had not taken a lot to find out who she was after she had left, because as it turned out, her relationship to his brother’s woman – if her fierce determination was not obvious enough – was quite clear.

His men had admitted their mistake, because they had thought Edith Gale had asked for Anna’s presence so she could fool her household into believing she was still at home, when she had already taken her leave and eloped with Cornelius. So, when a young woman fitting Edith’s build hurriedly left her residence, they had believed she was the one and had taken her without question.

Which meant Anna’s actions and words had been justified, although he would never admit as much, regardless of what anyone believed. Worse still, he felt it was only right that he rectified the damage caused by his intentions.

And so, he had spent the better part of the morning turning the matter over in his mind, weighing every possible approach and discarding most of them as either too extreme or not extreme enough. It was harder still, because he had really believed this would do the trick – that he would finally be rid of the dame who had bewitched his naïve brother, because he had always done his best to achieve the best possible outcome of his efforts.

However, this time, he had made things unnecessarily dire and worrisome.

So, here he was, ready to make things right.

He entered the dining room with his usual composure, determined to look unbothered before the people whose residence he had graced with his presence. He glanced at the cause of his folly, irritation building within him when she returned his stare without flinching. He could not explain it, but something about her twisted his insides and threatened to steal the ground right from under him.

“Lord Hartmoor,” he greeted, with a slight nod. “Miss Danvers.”

Anna remained seated and silent, simply watching with a defiant gaze. Her brother stepped out in front of her, as though he intended to shield her from his eyes, as he said,

“You have some nerve showing your face in my home, Your Grace.”

“I understand your anger,” Hudson replied evenly. “I would feel much the same, were our positions reversed.”

“Would you?” Rowland's voice was flat as he responded. “Then perhaps you would care to illuminate what you would do – if your sister returned home late the previous night, considerably shaken, only to inform you the next morning that she was seized off the street by some men and brought to a stranger’s house against her will.”

“There was a misunderstanding regarding her identity. I believed her to be someone else.” Hudson kept his tone level, though he was aware, distantly, of how little comfort that excuse brought. “It was resolved as swiftly as circumstances allowed, and I ensured she was returned home safely.”

“Safely,” Rowland laughed humorlessly. “You will forgive me if I do not find that particularly reassuring, coming from the same man who had her seized off a public street after dark.”

“I do not expect you to find any of my explanations reassuring, Lord Hartmoor. I have not come here under the illusion that you would.” Hudson's gaze flicked, briefly, toward Anna, who was watching the exchange with a blank expression, although he did not miss the way she curled one of her hands into a fist on the table. “I have come because I intend to correct the harm I have caused. I have thought of a good plan to stop the spread of gossip about your sister.”

“I doubt whatever ‘plan’ you concocted will fix this, Your Grace,” Rowland said as he flung the scandal sheet to the floor. “Because half of London is presently speculating about which young lady was found leaving your carriage in the dead of night, and it will not take them long to arrive at the correct name.”

“I am aware of the danger, Lord Hartmoor, but I would not have come if I truly did not have the solution to our problem,” Hudson gritted out, already tired of playing pansy to appeal to a man he should not have to grovel to.