Page 78 of The Duchess Audition

That changes now, Anthony promised silently, his chest puffing with a strange sense of pride that, despite everything, his son did not hate him. More to the point, his son was willing to keep trying to build a bond between them.

For once, Anthony was determined not to let him down… although he had no intention of simply waiting for Marina to return.

If he did that, he knew he would be facing days of sleepless delirium, driving himself to the actual edge of madness. Besides, if she had nothing to hide, he figured there could be no harm in dropping in on her at her uncle’s.

My grandmother did say I should try harder, he reasoned. What better way was there to show that he cared than to show up unannounced?

He left Knotgill at midday, while William was diverted by his mathematics tutor, and Harriet was napping in the sun room, though she would have protested that she was merely ‘resting her eyes’.

If anyone wanted to know where he had gone, Anthony had given strict instructions to the butler to inform his family that he was paying a visit to some old friends from Eton.

Of course, instead, he rode the two hours to London.

Usually, he enjoyed the ride to the city, admiring the pretty summer hedgerows, pausing to watch a kestrel in flight, reveling in the peace of the countryside, especially in good weather. But this time it proved to be a peculiar sort of torture, his mind at war with itself about what he might find when he arrived, a sense of urgency chasing him along those winding roads.

By the time he made it to the charming square in Mayfair where Marina’s uncle had a townhouse, the horse’s hooves clopping on the cobblestones, he was half-tempted to turn around and go right back to Knotgill.

What am I doing? Surely, this will only make things worse.

He drew his horse to a halt outside the townhouse, utterly torn as to how to proceed. It was not too late to just let Marina be.

Maybe he would have done the honorable thing and turned his horse around, had he not spotted his wife at that moment. She was walking in the private park that marked the center of the square… and she was not alone, promenading arm in arm with a tall gentleman.

They were walking toward the gate on the opposite side, their backs to Anthony. In truth, he might have missed her altogether if she had not turned her face toward her companion, flashing one of her most radiant smiles at him.

The gentleman, however, continued to face forward, offering no hint as to who he might be. Yet, that did not stop the sound of his laughter from drifting across the square, grating in Anthony’s ears.

So, this is what you had to attend to so urgently? This is why you left our home?

White-hot fury scorched through Anthony’s nerves as he watched the pair continue to wander along at a leisurely pace, talking and laughing. Perfectly at ease with one another, perfectly comfortable with such inappropriate proximity.

Every instinct within Anthony urged him to ride around to the opposite gate to confront them, his mind surging with a tidal wave of terrible memories. It was history repeating; the only difference was, this time he had truly felt something for Marina. Whether he could admit it or not, he had begun to fall for her.

All the while, you had another waiting for you…

It all made sense now: her change of heart when he had offered a marriage of convenience; her desire for seclusion; how she had put distance between them every time a line had almost been crossed; the recent trips to London, though she claimed she hated the city.

Turning his horse around, leaving in the opposite direction so he would not be spotted, Anthony wished he had never come.

For if what he had seen was love, then that was something far worse to bear than the affairs, the cruelty, the disrespect of her predecessor.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“Iknow it is not the news you want to hear, and I daresay your medicine will aid him tremendously, but I think we both understand that it has progressed beyond a cure,” Doctor Stanforth said, his hand resting on the park gate, his demeanor regretful.

Marina leaned against the iron fence, turning her face up toward the warm sunshine. “He said the medicine took the pain away.”

“He did, Your Grace, but… it is the yellowing of the skin and eyes,” the doctor murmured, huffing out a breath. “And the tremors, as well as the swelling of his abdomen and ankles.”

“My concoction is powerful,” she insisted, wondering how they had gone from laughing about an argument Stanforth had had with some fellow physicians over dinner to discussing the dire prognosis of her uncle. “I know it will work. I have done the research; it has to work.”

Doctor Stanforth sighed. “All I am saying is, do not get your hopes up. There is not always a miracle.”

“You sound like him,” she muttered, swiping a tear off her cheek.

“I do not mean to dampen your optimism, Your Grace,” the doctor insisted gently. “I pray that I am proven wrong. It would not be the first time, and your knowledge is far greater than mine when it comes to remedies. But one should always prepare oneself for the worst.”

Marina looked at him, her eyes stinging. “I shall never be able to prepare myself for losing him. He is all I have known for half my life.”