AWEEK AFTER THEIRdinner with Anne and Morgan, Vanessa was thrilled when she received an invitation to go shopping with Anne. She sent an enthusiastic reply via a footman, and that afternoon, Anne picked Vanessa up in her carriage.
However, the moment Vanessa stepped into the vehicle, she could tell something was wrong. Anne’s lovely face was wan and pale, and she’d been crying.
All of Vanessa’s sadness over the fact that Adrian had pulled away from her again after their outing to the wheel disappeared in the wake of her new friend’s obvious distress.
“Oh, Anne,” Vanessa said, sitting beside her and pulling her into a tight embrace. “What’s the matter?”
Anne gave a shuddering sob and clung to Vanessa, her body racked with sobs. “I did what you said,” she finally managed, after some of the storm had subsided. “I went to Morgan’s room last night, intending to tell him what I was feeling.”
The carriage hit a pothole, jarring the two women apart, and Vanessa sank back into the plush cushions, a bad feeling taking root in her gut. “What happened?”
Anne shook her head and blotted her face with a crumpled handkerchief. “He wasn’t there, Vanessa! He was probably out with his mistress! That’s why he hasn’t come to me. There’s someone else!” She burst into sobs once again, and Vanessa stared at her in dismay.
“Are you certain? Perhaps there’s some other explanation,” Vanessa said softly, but even as she said the words, she feared they were a lie. Most men of the aristocracy had mistresses. It certainly wouldn’t be stretching the imagination to think that Morgan had found someone else to cater to his sexual needs while his wife was so heavily pregnant. He probably figured he was entitled to such comfort. She thought of her empty bed these past few nights and swallowed thickly.
“I knew there was something wrong,” Anne sobbed. “I knew he didn’t love me anymore.”
“Oh, Anne,” Vanessa said, trying to offer as much comfort as she could. “I’m certain that’s not true. At dinner the other night, I looked at Morgan and thought I’d never seen a man so happily married. He loves those children, and he loves you. Even if he has taken a mistress temporarily, I’m sure that’s still true.”
As she said those last words, a sick feeling bloomed in the pit of Vanessa’s stomach. She didn’t believe them, and she knew they would be absolutely no comfort to her if she were in Anne’s situation. She could never bear to think of Adrian with another woman. He was hers, and she would not share him. She’d rather lose him entirely than have to sit across the breakfast table knowing he’d been in someone else’s arms the night before.
Anne took a deep shuddering breath and once more swiped at her bloodshot eyes. “I’m sorry I’m such a blubbering mess. I just love him so much!”
“I know you do,” Vanessa replied, wishing there was something more she could do for this woman who had come to mean so much to her in such a short time. “And I still think he loves you, Anne. Perhaps he’s just lost his way. I’m sure that once the baby is born, he’ll come back to you.”
“I hope you’re right,” Anne murmured.
Vanessa dug through her reticule and pulled out a small container of rice powder and a brush. “Here, lean forward. I’ll fix you up so none of those catty, gossiping shrews down on Bond Street will know that you’ve been crying.”
Anne gave a watery laugh. “I’m so happy to have you as a friend, Vanessa. If this had happened before I met you, I would have had absolutely no one to talk about it with.”
“You can always talk to me,” Vanessa vowed, expertly whisking the brush across Anne’s reddened, tear-streaked face until the worst of the damage magically disappeared.
If only the damage of Morgan’s betrayal could be fixed so easily.
Chapter Twenty-Five
