Free Duchess of Sin by Laurel McKee Page A

studying Irish history could be so perilous?
    She stripped off her gloves and unpinned the ragged remains of her hat. Now that the danger was past, and she was out of the
     intoxicating presence of the Duke of Adair, she felt so weary. Weary and aching. Her hip throbbed where she had landed on
     the ground, and her head felt heavy. She longed to crawl into bed with a tisane and the newest French romantic novel and forget
     all about this most bizarre afternoon.
    But hiding under the bedclothes would just convince her mother that she was indeed ill, even as she claimedso vehemently to be well. She would be locked away with doctors and cups of beef tea for days when there was so much to do.
     So many mysteries to unravel.
    Katherine studied her closely as she removed her own hat, and her eyes were much too shrewd and discerning. It was always
     difficult to fool her mother, though Anna could certainly do it when she set her mind to it. She gave her mother a cheerful
     smile.
    “Caroline, I’m afraid your sister took a spill from her horse,” Katherine said. “I made the carriage come home very slowly
     so she would not be jostled.”
    “Which I said was quite unnecessary,” Anna said. “I am perfectly well.”
    “
Anna
fell from her horse?” Caroline cried. She dashed down the stairs and seized Anna’s hands in hers, carefully scanning her
     for injuries. “How can that be? You never fall! Unlike me; horses hate me.”
    “Psyche was startled, that’s all,” said Anna. “I was not paying proper attention.”
    “Were you flirting with someone?” Caroline asked.
    Anna laughed. “Of course! What else is the promenade hour for? I was talking to a
duke.
”
    “A duke! How fascinating,” said Caroline. “You’ve always said you wanted to be a duchess. Was he terribly handsome? Will you
     dance with him at the Fitzwalters’ ball?”
    “She will not,” Katherine interrupted, “because Anna must stay home and rest, not go dancing at balls.”
    “Mama!” Anna protested. But she could say no more, for the butler, Smythe, stepped forward to gain her mother’s attention.
    “I beg your pardon, my lady,” he said, “but the drawing teacher is waiting for you in the library.”
    “Oh, I had quite forgotten about that appointment in all the excitement,” Katherine said, a little frown creasing her pale
     brow. The Angel of Kildare never kept anyone waiting, not even teachers.
    “Shall I ask him to come back tomorrow?” Smythe asked.
    “You should ask him to go to perdition,” Caroline muttered.
    “Caroline, that is quite enough.” Katherine glanced at Anna, clearly torn between keeping her appointment and fussing over
     her daughter.
    Anna did not feel like being fussed over. “Go on, Mama. Caro will look after me for a while. This is the
French
drawing teacher, yes? You shouldn’t let him get away.”
    “Very well,” Katherine said reluctantly. “Send in some tea please, Smythe, and tell Monsieur Courtois I will be with him shortly.
     Caroline, take your sister to her chamber and make sure she lies down.”
    “Yes, Mama,” Anna said meekly. Before Caroline could argue again, Anna seized her arm and dragged her along up the stairs.
     Her maid, Rose, already waited in her chamber with hot water and a clean gown.
    As Anna set about tidying up, Caroline flopped down across the bed. Her spectacles flew across the coverlet. “I suppose with
     all the flirting and such you did not have time to speak to Mama about the lessons.”
    “I did,” Anna said. She winced as Rose dragged the brush through her tangled hair. “And she said she thought you might enjoy
     improving your drawing. You could use it to copy illustrations for your research or for sketching historical sites.”
    “That is true, I suppose,” Caroline said grudgingly. “But it will still take up so much time. I’m pressed to find spare hours
     to read as it is, what with dancing and deportment and all that.”
    “Perhaps if you do very