Page 24 of Miss Ridley and the Duke

She turned toward the door, smoothing her skirts as she gathered her thoughts. The baron’s lack of fortitude was nothing new, and she could hardly fault him for relying on her. Halmesbury had gone to great lengths on her behalf, and it seemed only fair that she do her part now.

Squaring her shoulders, Annabel resolved to face whatever awaited her in the drawing room with grace and determination.

Chapter Eight

“Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change.”

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein

* * *

Annabel shored up her courage as she stood outside the drawing-room door. Since Stedman had informed her that both her former betrothed and her new one were waiting together, her nerves had been in turmoil. She drew a deep, fortifying breath, steeling herself for the encounter she had hoped to avoid.

Philip believes you are bold, she reminded herself. That thought, both a challenge and an encouragement, gave her the final push to open the door. You must take what you want, Annabel. No one will hand it to you.

As she entered, her gaze immediately sought Philip’s tall, comforting presence. Over the last few days, she had come to appreciate his steady composure and thoughtful encouragement. Richard, with his charm and affability, had once captivated her, but it was Philip’s strength and sincerity that now felt like a safe harbor. And her traitorous inner voice added, It does not hurt that he is as handsome as a Greek god.

The two men stood at opposite ends of the stone fireplace. Richard, with his dark, rakish charm, appeared every inch the social favorite he had always been, but beside Philip, he seemed less substantial. Philip, taller and broader, exuded quiet power. His golden hair and calm gray eyes gave him an aura of dependability that made her feel anchored just looking at him.

Richard stepped forward, his expression dark. “How do you even know my cousin?” he demanded sharply. “You barely leave the Hall, with that weak fool of a father of yours too afraid to even board a carriage.”

Annabel glanced at Philip. He gave her the barest of nods, his silent encouragement bolstering her confidence. “I knew of His Grace’s reputation,” she answered evenly. “He is known for helping people in need, so I sought his assistance.”

Richard’s jaw dropped. “You approached him? Called on him?”

Annabel nodded, meeting his gaze.

“But Avonmead is nearly a full day’s ride on horseback!”

She inclined her head again.

Richard’s face paled as the realization dawned. “You rode there—alone?”

“Yes.”

“You rode across two counties in those infernal breeches of yours?”

“Precisely,” she said, her voice steady. “I told you I would do whatever it took to end our betrothal.”

Richard’s complexion darkened with anger, his voice rising. “You reckless fool! You could have been killed—or worse.”

Annabel’s brow furrowed. “Yes, that is what His Grace also said. Although I fail to understand what could be worse.”

Richard threw his hands in the air, pacing a few steps before turning back to her. His voice shook with frustration. “Worse is why you should never have gone! A girl caught alone in the countryside could pray for the sweet release of death rather than endure what might befall her.”

Annabel instinctively stepped back, giving him a wary look. “Then perhaps you should not have driven me to such extremes,” she retorted, her voice soft but firm. “I had to turn to a stranger because you, the man who claimed to care for me, showed no regard for my thoughts or feelings.”

Richard’s temper flared again. “You would have been a countess! A wealthy woman with five estates to command. What more could you want?”

Annabel’s composure wavered, her voice trembling with raw emotion. “All I wanted was your regard, Richard. Your respect. Your love.”

“I do care for you!” he exclaimed. “I have never been willing to marry anyone else. I went to great lengths to make this match happen.”

Her lips curled in incredulity. “What lengths, pray?”

“I escorted you to those tedious country dances. I called on your father—repeatedly—and endured his dull conversation at countless dinners. I even arranged for a celebrated modiste to come all the way from London to outfit you for your new role!”

Annabel’s temper flared, her control snapping under the weight of his self-centered words. “You are insufferable!” she cried, her voice sharp with indignation. “Everything you’ve done has been for your own vanity. You live for your own pleasures, Richard, and you do not care about my happiness in the least. I would rather remain unmarried forever than become your wife.”