As she made her way through the familiar steps, she had the eerie feeling that someone was watching her. Ensuring that she kept her place in the dance, Anne allowed her gaze to dart about the dance floor in an attempt to ascertain who it might be. She almost tripped as her gaze collided with that of the Viscount of Bracondale. Why is the infuriating man watching me? she wondered with exasperation. Recovering her composure, she smiled pleasantly at her dance partner and forced her concentration on the steps while her mind scurried around the many questions plaguing her.
Her current dance partner was bowing over her hand just as Lord Spencer approached her. “My dear Lady Anne, would you do me the honour of sharing this next dance with me? It sounds as though they are striking up the waltz.”
Anne felt warmth climb into her cheeks. She was quite aware there were many who questioned whether the waltz should be allowed in polite company. She had only danced it a handful of times herself. She could tell the earl was waiting for her reaction.
With an unconscious defiant lift of her chin, Anne put her hand in the earl’s outstretched one. “I would be delighted,” she replied, her polite tone not revealing how much she was looking forward to the dance. Lord Spencer, the Earl of Sutton, was rumoured to be a skilled dance partner, but she had not yet had the pleasure of dancing with him herself.
She tried not to get her hopes up about a potential match. The Earl of Sutton would be a remarkably good catch, but she didn’t feel any snag of excitement as she stepped into his arms, despite the intimacy forced upon them by the waltz. It was strange. She had never thought that was important until the thrill she had felt in the viscount’s arms.
As she circled the dance floor, she thought back to the conversation she’d had with Rose and another friend about the need to have love in marriage. While it was not strictly necessary, she knew quite well, it was a thought she was having difficulty getting out of her mind ever since that conversation. She had previously never considered the possibility of making a love match. It was rarely done in their circles, was even looked upon with a level of derision. But ever since the idea had been planted in her head, Anne had struggled uprooting it.
“So, what were you and Bracondale arguing about during your dance?”
Anne was startled out of her disquieting thoughts by the earl’s question. She scrambled for an acceptable answer.
“I do not have any idea what you are talking about, my lord. Neither the viscount nor I would do something so ill bred as to argue in a crowded ballroom.”
To her surprise, the earl graced her with a charming grin. “I suppose you are right. He always was rather fastidious about such things. But I must tell you, I have known him since we were boys, and it looked to me as though he wanted to argue with you, even if you were both too polite to do so.” There was a brief pause while Anne looked at the earl with dismay and he watched her with careful assessment. “It piqued my curiosity, I must say.”
Anne tilted her head in order to study his face carefully. It took her a moment to process his last statement but when she did, it took considerable effort not to burst into laughter. “Do I understand you to mean that you became highly interested in dancing with me when you thought that perhaps your friend wanted to argue with me?”
At his nod, she allowed a grin to crease her face. “Might I be so bold as to ask why?”
The earl shrugged and graced her with another grin of his own. “Like I said, I have known Bracondale for eons, since we were boys. Obviously, you don’t know him that well or you would understand. The man is of a ridiculously sunny temperament. When we were boys, he would invariably find the bright side to look upon. It could be intolerably annoying when all you wanted to do was be angry about something. So, to see him looking on the verge of temper was a novel experience that must be explored. And since it would appear that it was directed towards you, I thought I would begin my investigation right here.”
Feeling genuine amusement with the earl’s statement but mistrusting the calculating gleam in his eyes, Anne merely offered a shrug of her own. “I cannot enlighten you, my lord. As I said, we did not argue. I cannot begin to fathom what his lordship might have been thinking. You shall simply have to ask him yourself.”
She hoped her face didn’t give away how nervous he made her as his eyes narrowed speculatively on her face, although she doubted much escaped the sharp-eyed Earl of Sutton. Anne was relieved a moment later when he gave a decisive nod as though declaring he was going to take her word for it, at least for the moment. But then he proceeded to confound her with his next question.
“Why is this the first time we have danced, my lady? You are an excellent dancer and reasonably pretty. I am certain I ought to have danced with you before now.”
Anne couldn’t help the gasp of laughter that escaped her at these unanswerable words. “I am unsure how to reply to such a statement, my lord.”
“Oh, my dear, have I said something offensive? I have yet to learn to leash my wretched tongue.”
“No, no, you did not offend me, my lord, have no fear. In the way of answering your question, I have not been in Town over long. Perhaps we have just not attended the same events. Have you been here for the entire Season?”
“I have. I am remarkably devoted to taking my seat in the House of Lords. That, of course, coincides with the Season. And as it seems I am always trying to convince someone to take my side on a particular argument, I have to attend his wife’s ball or rout or whatever nonsense in order to gain his agreement.”
Anne blinked at him for a moment before asking, “So what are you trying to get Lord Hudson to agree to, my lord?”
The earl grinned. “Well, I certainly couldn’t entrust that sort of information to someone not involved, now could I?”
Feeling disgruntled, Anne grumbled, “You are the one who brought it up, my lord.”
“You are quite correct and I apologize, my lady. That was not well done of me, was it? Now tell me, how have you been enjoying your first Season?”
Anne admired his skilled change of subject. Despite his occasional lack of tact, it was obvious he was firmly in control of his own social discourses. Her own proper upbringing forced her to politely answer his question.
“It has certainly had its ups and downs, my lord. It has not quite turned out as I had expected.”
“What had you been expecting?”
Anne wished he had asked her about the weather rather than about the Season. She was unused to prevaricating but doubted he would appreciate her full honesty.
“I hadn’t expected the crowds and the noise. I had no idea there would be quite so many people. I rather think I had not given the entire experience sufficient thought, to be honest, my lord. I naïvely thought I could show up, receive an offer of marriage, and carry on with my life comfortably.”
To Anne’s chagrin, Lord Spencer chuckled again, although, thankfully, this time he kept his volume low and it did not draw the eyes of others in the room. As Anne had pointed out, the vast crowds did tend to produce a great deal of noise. No one had noticed his laughter.
“How long have you been here, my lady?”
“Two and a half weeks.”
“And you thought you would already be heading off to your husband’s estate by now?” His incredulous tone brought heat to her cheeks, and Anne realized she had managed to reveal her foolishness. She gritted her teeth and tried to brazen it out. This evening can hardly get worse, she thought with a touch of desperation.
“Clearly, I was mistaken,” she managed in a tone that, with relief, sounded unconcerned to her own ears.
Lord Spencer’s sharp gaze was still focused on her face, but then his attention glided over her shoulder and his expression altered. “Tell me, Lady Anne, why the viscount is still watching you.”
It took every ounce of will power she possessed not to crane around to see what the earl was looking at. Keeping her face as impassive as she could muster, Anne answered him as neutrally as possible.
“I have no idea what you are talking about, my lord. My father is a viscount, is that who you are talking about? It would be reasonable for him to keep an eye on me, would you not agree?”
“Your father is not the viscount I meant, my dear, surely you realize that.” Again the Earl of Sutton was looking at her as though he wished to read her mind.
Anne was overcome with relief when she heard the music dying away. “Thank you for the dance, my lord. It was pleasant.” She kept her tone bland and was turning away when her relief died a quick death. The Viscount of Bracondale was standing next to them and appeared as though he were waiting for her.
“I believe this next dance is promised to me,” the viscount declared. Without waiting for her reply, he swept her back onto the dance floor.
~~~
Wesley could see consternation glowing in the depths of Anne’s eyes, but she managed to keep a serene expression on her face. He was beginning to suspect she was not nearly as empty headed as she let on.
“What did you and Sutton discuss?” he asked, trying to sound as though he were making idle chitchat.
“I do believe we were discussing you, my lord,” Anne answered, her tone slightly breathless.
“You aren’t certain one way or the other?” Wesley demanded.
“The earl strikes me as being a trifle strange, my lord. I do apologize for saying so, as he told me the two of you are particular friends, so I hesitate to insult a close companion of yours, but the entire encounter was decidedly peculiar.”
“Why do you say that, my lady?” Wesley’s curiosity was truly piqued, and he was looking forward to the insight into her character. His fascination only increased as he watched the blush climb in her cheeks once more. He chastised himself briefly. He really ought to leave the poor woman alone. She was obviously unused to such attentions.
“He seemed to be strangely fascinated with our previous dance, my lord.” She paused for a moment, clearly reluctant to continue, but while he maintained his silence she plunged on. Wesley was surprised to find her clear gaze looking him straight in the eye as she demanded, “Are the two of you in some sort of competitive game involving me? I do not understand why you would each be questioning me about my conversation with the other.”
Wesley realized with a slight start that the young woman in his arms was beginning to look angry. He felt the first stirrings of intrigue. She was quite obviously not the mousy little creature he had taken her to be. While she presented a façade of being a meekly acquiescent daughter to her broken down father, Wesley could see there really was a backbone hidden inside her delicate frame. He called himself to attention and addressed her question quickly when he saw the sparkle of tears brighten her eyes.
“No, no, of course not, my dear Lady Anne. I apologize profusely for giving you that impression. The earl and I have been friends since we were young lads at school. We have been like brothers since our young years. Like any brothers, we have a history of pulling pranks upon one another, but we also have always been fiercely loyal to one another. The Duke of Wrentham was one of our brethren. Sutton was, no doubt, like me, concerned over your possible connection with that trouble.”
He watched with interest as Anne’s gaze turned guilty for a moment, but then she met his eyes frankly. “I have my doubts about that, my lord, as he did not make any reference to the duke. He seemed to be much more interested in you and whatever you and I had been discussing.”
Wesley suppressed a sigh. He was getting nowhere. He could not fathom how he had gotten so off course that evening. He’d had no intention of confronting Lady Anne, and then once he had, he was bewildered how the conversation had gotten so off course. He had been unable to hold onto his justifiable anger at the young woman. It was as though she had cast a spell over him, he thought rather dazedly. She would bear watching, he determined.
He could almost feel her discomfort as she valiantly met his eyes. Wesley forced himself to ignore the shaft of guilt that speared through him as he attempted to fan the flames of his anger toward her. He watched in fascination as her blue eyes widened as she continued to meet his glare. For a brief moment her gaze dropped from his, but then it swept back and her pointy little chin lifted in a slight but defiant tilt. Once again, Wesley had to fight not to laugh over the imagery of a kitten standing up to the guard dog that flashed through his mind at her refusal to cower before him.
It was blatantly obvious to him how difficult it was for her to stand her ground. She was doing so in an understated way that many might not even notice, but he could see it. And he found it surprisingly, profoundly attractive. He shoved the unwelcome thought from his mind and scowled at her.
~~~
Anne felt the colour ebb and flow from her cheeks. Her nerves made her almost light headed, and she could not understand why she was fighting him. Of course, other women would probably fight harder or louder. But for her, this was a fight. And it made absolutely no sense to her. Why should I fight the Viscount of Bracondale? she wondered almost wildly. In that moment she decided to give up. There was no logical sense to the strange situation.
She was in London to find a husband. It was as simple as that. She did not want a husband who glared at her for something she did not do. So the viscount was not on the list of potential mates. So this thing, whatever it was, that was happening this evening was an unwelcome distraction on her path to a secure future.
Her resolve firmly bolstered, Anne plastered a serene expression upon her face and offered the viscount a tentative smile. A part of her felt like giggling over the suspicious look that crossed the nobleman’s face, but she quickly squashed the ridiculous notion. She silently offered up a prayer that the dance would soon be over.
Profound relief spread over her as she heard the music drawing to a conclusion. Just as she was wondering how to dismiss the viscount, she spotted her aunt waiting for her on the side of the dance floor.
“Thank you for the dance, my lord. I can see that my aunt is looking for me. Perhaps it is time for us to depart.”
“Allow me to escort you to her side.” His haughty tone set her teeth on edge, but she merely offered him a benign smile.
Anne wondered if she needed to introduce the viscount to her aunt. It seemed to her that the members of the ton all knew each other in some mysterious way, but it was proper to perform introductions none the less. She was relieved from this one worry when the viscount bowed elegantly over her aunt’s hand.
“My dear Lady Sophie, it is a pleasure to see you again. You look to be in fine health and looking lovely as always this evening. And how is your husband?”
“Oh my lord, you are such a flatterer, you young scamp. We are both well, thank you for asking. We are having a grand time escorting my niece around the events of the Season. How lovely that the two of you have met.”
Anne could hardly believe it. Her usually prosaic aunt was practically simpering over the viscount’s attentions. Her jaw nearly became unhinged over the viscount’s next words.
“It has been my pleasure meeting your niece. In fact, I was wondering if I might have the pleasure of escorting her for the promenade in the Park tomorrow afternoon.”
A buzzing began in her ears, and Anne almost missed her aunt’s reply. Of course, the delight plastered all over her face was really answer enough, Anne thought while fighting a fit of hysterics. What is the viscount up to? she wondered frantically as she used every ounce of her willpower to maintain her composure.
She was in a bewildered haze as she watched his retreating back for a brief moment. Not wanting to appear as a love struck sot, she turned her attention back to her aunt. She regretted that choice as soon as her aunt opened her mouth.
“How very exciting, my dear. The Viscount of Bracondale! You could do far worse than him. If the rumours are true, his coffers are so deep even your father wouldn’t be able to run through them in what is left of his lifetime.”
Anne had no reply for such a statement. Her throat spasmed painfu
lly as she struggled to contain her feelings of revulsion.
Anne’s aunt didn’t seem to notice that Anne did not appear overjoyed at the prospect of entertaining a visit with the viscount on the morrow. “This is perfect, my dear. The Viscount of Bracondale.” She repeated his name again as though it were an invocation.
Anne’s stomach turned, and she wondered miserably how much longer it would be before she could seek her bed. As though she had read her niece’s mind, her aunt finally looked at her.
“You look a trifle piqued, my dear. I think we ought to get you home to bed. It would not do to be overly tired for your ride with the viscount tomorrow. Come along, my dear. I shall have a footman fetch your uncle and have the carriage called for. Let us go and take our leave of our hostess.”
Anne followed dully in her aunt’s wake as she wondered how her life had gotten so dreadfully off course.
Chapter Two
Anne awakened to a dull headache. She’d had difficulty falling asleep the night before as she worried about her encounter with the viscount. What did the man want with her? she wondered for the hundredth time. Determined not to waste another minute of worry, she shoved back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed as her maid drew the drapes.
Accepting her morning cup of chocolate from her maid, Anne acknowledged that life in her aunt’s household was decidedly better than on her father’s estate in many ways. There were far fewer drafts here, for one thing. And for another, there were enough servants that one could actually be given the task of bringing her such a delicious, warm treat every morning. Anne allowed a contented sigh to escape her lips as she indulged in the decadent delight of being pampered.
Then she gave her head a shake. She ought not to grow accustomed to such comforts. She was beginning to suspect that she would have to return to their rundown estate with her father when this Season was over. If word got out about what she had almost done for her father and his friend, no one would want to take her as his wife. And even if word did not get out, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to trust her own judgment or trust that her father was not somehow being manipulated into manipulating her by one of his twisted and wicked friends.
The Viscount Deception: A Sweet Regency Romance Adventure (Mayfair Mayhem Book 3) Page 2
