She should go down. Through her open window she had heard loud voices and laughter. The visitors had obviously arrived. But she hated making a grand entrance. It had sounded as if they had all come inside. They were probably in the drawing room, and there was no way she could enter without attracting the attention of all of them. She sighed. How awful it was to have been born with such a large share of self-consciousness. It would not be so bad, perhaps, if Jack would not be there. But one could not expect Jack to miss such a large and boisterous social gathering. He was proving to be quite troublesome. Could he not see that she was not interested in his flirtation? Probably not. He was a handsome man, almost as good-looking as Alexander, in fact. She doubted that many women had rejected his advances in the past.
And if only Alexander would not be there… But, of course, he would be. These visitors had been the playmates of his childhood. Anne brushed furiously at the wool skirt of her dress, removing imaginary pieces of lint. Nine days still to go before she could be at peace from him again. If only she could avoid seeing him in that time. It was a ridiculous wish, of course. Even if she could avoid him in the ordinary course of a day, she would have to see him at mealtimes. And she had to look at him, talk to him, touch him, even kiss him during the very frequent rehearsals.
And there were always the nights. She could not avoid him then if he chose to come to her. She had no right to lock her door against him. And he had come each night-even last night, after their harsh words during the afternoon. He had been very late. She had been tossing and turning in bed for hours, it had seemed, before he had come. He had not had a candle with him, or lit one when he arrived. He had not said a word, either, but had merely undressed beside the bed, undressed her, and made love to her slowly and silently. She had reached new heights of ecstasy with him, and he must have felt her last cry of release coming; he had absorbed the sound into his open mouth, which had stayed on hers until they had both utterly relaxed. As had become usual with her, she had burrowed her head into the warmth of his shoulder and slept.
Many things had not changed, but Anne had. Something had happened to her as she sat on the floor of the ballroom the day before, clasping her knees and staring at her husband's back as he sat across the room from her studying his part. People do not generally change all in a rush, but something had snapped in Anne as she sat there. Did she really love this man who was her husband but who was in all essential ways a stranger to her? Did he have the right to make of her an abject, cringing creature, who was beginning yet again to doubt her own worth? Was she going to allow him completely to dominate her life? Was he worthy of her love?
Ten minutes can be a long time when one has nothing to do but sit and examine the state of one's life. Anne had come to the conclusion that her love for Alexander was a purely physical thing. She liked his appearance. In fact, she could not name one imperfection in either his face or physique. He was every woman's dream of a perfect man. She had no one with whom to compare him as a lover, but she was quite convinced that the world could not provide her with a man who could give her greater satisfaction. She admitted that her love for him had really dated from their wedding night and that the last few nights had been the happiest of her life. She dared not think of what the nights would be like when she returned alone to Redlands.
But having admitted as much to herself, she had tried to think of any other way in which she loved her husband. There was nothing. He had never shown her any kindness but had, in fact, often been unnecessarily cruel. He had been deliberately and brutally insulting the morning after their wedding and had left her for more than a year in a home that he obviously disliked himself. He had refused to allow her to visit Sonia or to come here for the two weeks with his grandparents. He had not spoken a kind word to her since his arrival. Yet he did not even have the integrity to leave her entirely alone, but must come to her each night, to degrade her, she supposed.
No, Alexander certainly did not deserve her love. And he did not deserve her respect. Her decision had been made during those ten minutes. He was her husband. She could not disobey him. She could not deny him whatever he demanded of her. But she was not going to allow him to destroy the very fragile sense of worth that she had built so painfully in the year and few months since he had abandoned her. He could use her, he could insult her, but she would not allow him to break her.
In future, he would not find her so docile and so inclined to be teary-eyed before him. She would live out the nine days. She would enjoy looking at Alexander while she acted with him, and she would enjoy making love with him at night-she was not going to try to pretend to herself that she found his attentions distasteful. And when the nine days were over, she would go back to Redlands and concentrate on making the inside of the house as beautiful and as tasteful as she had made the gardens. She would make it her home and live contented with the respect of the servants and the admiration of the neighbors. She would be known as Anne Stewart of Redlands, Viscountess Merrick. And she would not in any way be in her husband's shadow. He was almost unknown there.
Anne raised her chin and looked at herself in the mirror. Yes, she decided, she even felt like a great lady already. She did not need Alexander; she did not even like him. And she certainly did not have to feel self-conscious about walking into a room where he happened to be. She swept resolutely from her bedchamber and down to the drawing room to join the guests.
"Do be a sport, Anne," Jack was saying later that evening after rehearsals were over for the day. "It is a beautiful evening, far too lovely to waste indoors. And you cannot accuse me of trying to seduce you, you know. Stanley and Celia, Freddie and Connie are coming too. But, you see, when there are three males and two females, one of those males has to walk alone. And I fear that fate will be mine if you refuse to save me from the ignominy."
Anne sighed. "You do make it sound as if it is my duty as a humane person, Jack," she said, "but I would far rather be lazy and relax in a stuffy drawing room."
"I perceive that you are weakening," he said. "Now, you cannot expect me to let the matter rest, Anne. Let me send your maid upstairs for a shawl."
"It is utter madness to go walking in the darkness," she protested.
"Nonsense," Jack replied cheerfully. "There is a near-full moon, and you must remember that four of us almost grew up here. We could find our way to the bridge blindfolded."
"Is that where you are all planning to go?" Anne asked. "The bridge across the swamp?"
"Grandmamma's claim to immortality," Jack said with a grin. "She insisted, you know, when she was a young bride that Grandpapa spend half his fortune having it built, though he protested that the bridge would be merely an expensive ornament. It really serves no useful function, you know. There is a much more convenient way around the marsh by road or footpath."
"But I agree with Grandmamma that it is a work of art," Anne said. '.'Very well, Jack, I shall come."
He smiled and left the room in search of Bella and her shawl. Anne was rather enjoying the situation. Alexander had sat down to play a hand of cards with the duke and Maud and Sarah a few minutes before, but he was obviously very much aware of the situation developing behind his back. He had stiffened and his head had turned to one side, as if he were listening. She was not deliberately setting out to provoke him or to make him jealous, but the new Anne was reveling in the freedom of making up her own mind about what she wished to do. She was no longer treading carefully, afraid of angering a stern husband. She had no particular wish to go walking with Jack-or with anyone else, for that matter-but she would do so just to show Alexander that she did not fear him. There was, after all, no impropriety in her acceptance. It was a family group that was going walking, and she was part of the family.