The bottom fell out from Anne’s stomach as her mother’s words somehow made this hell all the more real. She managed a jerky nod.
“Splendid.” Mother gave a pleased nod. “The matter is settled. I’ll meet with my brother tomorrow morning and he’ll see to the arrangements with Bertrand.” She swept out of the room as though she’d spoken on mundane matters such as the London weather and her latest modiste, and not Anne’s grim future.
Katherine glowered at Anne. “I forbid you from wedding him.”
What her sister failed to realize was that it didn’t really matter who Anne wed. Mr. Ekstrom may as well have been the Duke of Crawford who may as well have been Prinny himself. None of them were Harry. The irony wasn’t lost on her. Always regarded as selfish and self-serving, Anne would relinquish Harry, and in doing so, lose the only man she would ever love.
“We shall simply find you a husband.” She motioned to Jasper who still remained by his post at the doorway. “After all, I found one.”
A broken laugh bubbled past Anne’s lips. She took Katherine’s hands and gave them a firm squeeze. “Oh, Kat, don’t you see you can’t fix this. You were right through the years. I was headstrong and unwise and now I’ll pay the price.” The ultimate price, marriage to Bertrand Ekstrom. The threat that had dangled first over Katherine and then Anne, would be realized.
Her sister shook her head back and forth. “I cannot believe that,” she said, with a fool’s optimism. Anne marveled at the great shift that had occurred. Long considered the fanciful, foolishly whimsical twin, Anne had somehow altered roles with her practical, logic-driven sister. Katherine appealed to Jasper. “Surely there is something we can do?”
He looked to his wife and said tersely, “Stanhope.”
Anne was remarkably low on options. Ruin. Harry. Vile Bertie Ekstrom. Options that would salvage her reputation, that was. Her throat worked. She could not wed Harry. Would not. Not under duress. Not because he’d been forced into a union with a wife who would merely suffice. In time, he would grow to hate her and she’d become an empty, bitter shell of a woman just as her mother had been…and still was, even long after Father had died. All the while she’d sit from the sidelines as Harry longed for another, loved another he could not have. No, that she could not do. She took a steadying breath. “The decision is mine, Katherine.”
An almost pitying look wreathed the harsh, angular planes of her brother-in-law’s face. She cocked her head at the crack in Jasper’s hard veneer. But for the clear love he carried for his wife and sweet son, Maxwell, she’d never bore witness to a single show of emotion from the austere duke. Until now. “Rutland,” she whispered aloud.
Katherine and Jasper stared at her questioningly.
Anne pressed her fingers against her temples and rubbed her fingers in slow, circular motions. “I need to speak with Lord Rutland.” Any man who’d stood to the side and watched on as though his heart too was publicly breaking was not wholly a monster.
“No,” Katherine said, her lips a flat line of disapproval. “Enough of your schemes, Anne.”
Only, she’d witnessed Rutland’s despair. “I must speak to him.” She scrambled forward in her seat. “Rutland will—”
“Rutland is a despicable bounder,” her sister said bluntly. “Tell her,” she said to her husband. Her eyes narrowed at his silence. “Tell her, Jasper.”
“I believe, perhaps, it might be beneficial to speak to Rutland,” he said quietly. He still clearly believed Harry to be a worthless cur, and likely saw the imagined perils in Anne wedding one such as the Earl of Stanhope.
“Thank you, Jasper,” Anne said softly.
Katherine leaned over and took Anne’s hand in her own. “I’m disappointed Harry would meet you as he did and compromise your reputation, but Anne, you’ve been ruined. Ruined before one, may as well be ruined before all. Surely you must see the folly in choosing one such as Mr. Ekstrom over Harry?”
Anne pressed her eyes tight, remembering his laugh, his teasing, the moment he’d placed the delicate wire-framed spectacles upon her nose in Hyde Park. Until the day she drew her last breath, Harry would hold every last sliver of her now broken heart. She loved him enough to set him free.
“Anne?” her sister prodded.
“He…” She didn’t know how much Katherine knew of Harry’s past and would not betray the pieces she had of him. “He loved another, and I’ll not come between that.” She pulled her hand free and shoved to her feet. She would not become their mother. Of course, she could not say as much. Katherine knew nothing of Father’s infidelity, so in this, Anne would protect her.