Once again, Anna opened her mouth to speak, but Anthony was quicker. He slipped an arm about her waist and pulled her against him. Still a little wobbly, she allowed him to hold her there.
Anthony glinted a smile at Charlotte. “I take it our betrothal is at an end?”
“I will never marry you. Never!”
Rupert turned his beloved in his arms and looked into her face. “Charlotte! Your father—”
“I don’t care about my father. Rupert, I love you. And if you’ll have me…” A lone tear streaked down Charlotte’s face. “Oh, please say you meant it when you said you’d wait for me, that you loved me.”
“Oh, Charlotte, I do love you! So much! We’ll go to your father and we’ll talk to him. I’m not a rich man, but I can take care of you. I’ll have to sell off my stable, but I can do it. I have it all figured out and—”
Charlotte kissed him, pulling his mouth to hers and leaning against him as if her entire heart was held in his arms.
Anna blinked. “Well,” she said after a moment, in which she and Anthony silently watched the younger couple. “That was certainly surprising.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Anthony said, sending Anna a stern glare. “And it would have happened much sooner had you not been so intent on interfering.”
“Interfering? I was trying to help.”
“Did it ever occur to you, my delightful troublemaker, that I did not want my betrothal saved? That I wished for the timid Miss Charlotte to break it off?”
That was certainly welcome news, but Anna managed a sniff. “I thought you said she was the perfect wife for you.”
“It has been many weeks since I realized Charlotte was far from being the perfect wife for me,” he returned gruffly. He put his arms about Anna’s waist and looked down into her eyes. “You are the perfect wife for me, every troublesome, irritating inch. If you will have me.”
Happiness swept through Anna, so powerful that it almost made her rise on her toes and place a kiss on Greyley’s handsome mouth. “It will cause a scandal; I’m just a governess.”
“I don’t care.”
“People will talk.”
“They always do.”
“They will say you are an Elliot after all.”
He brushed his fingers over her chin, her cheek, as if trying to memorize her features. “I don’t give a damn what they say. I love you and only you.”
Warm in the circle of his arms, Anna toyed with his shirt buttons. “Really?”
“Really.” He grinned. “Besides, Charlotte wasn’t tall enough for me. I can’t even hug her without straining my neck.”
“Hm. I can see where that might have been a problem.”
Anthony nodded. “And her hair was far too blond. I prefer red hair myself.”
“You do?”
Anthony’s eyes glinted with something that made Anna’s heart pound.
She pursed her lips. “How do you feel about…proud noses?”
He smiled, lifting a finger to touch the tip of hers. “They add character. Small, pert noses are a decided irritant.”
Anna sighed her satisfaction and permitted Anthony to draw her head to his shoulder. For a moment they stood thus, heart to heart, their bodies absorbing the warmth of each other.
Anthony didn’t think he’d ever felt so completely whole. So alive. Or so in love. Life with Anna would be busy and troublesome and never quiet, and he was certain they’d argue at least ten times a week. But afterward…He smiled, thinking of all the ways they would make up for their disagreements.
She stirred against him. “There are a few things we need to discuss.”
“Oh?” He asked, placing a gentle kiss beside the bruise that marred her forehead, the memory of his fears when he’d seen the broken phaeton beside the road returning.
“Anthony, I want to keep the children.”
She did, did she? “Even Desford?”
“Especially Desford.” She hesitated. “And I would like for you to build that house you promised me…only for Desford. He needs a house of his own.”
Rupert looked up from where he had been talking quietly to Charlotte. “Desford can afford his own house.”
Anthony frowned. “How?”
“Apparently my brother made some better investments than we’d realized. Desford owns a ruby mine.”
“That’s why your mother wanted the children,” Anthony said.
Rupert nodded.
“That’s the end of Lady Putney staying at Greyley House.” He eyed Rupert for a moment. “I don’t suppose you’d consider taking her off my hands.”
“No,” Rupert said. “Never.” He reached over and gathered his coat, pulling it carefully over his bruised hands, Charlotte helping him. “If you don’t mind, Greyley, Charlotte and I will be off. I need to speak with her parents before my mother causes any more problems.”
Anthony grinned. “Very well, whelp. And while you’re out, see to it that you put something on that eye of yours. You look like hell.”
Rupert chuckled. “So do you. Take care, Greyley.” With Charlotte tucked beneath his arm, Rupert left.
Anna watched them go with a sigh. “I do hope Lord Melton won’t cause too much of a problem. Rupert is a dear boy, but life hasn’t left him with much.”
“If it will make you happy, I will see to it that Rupert is comfortably fixed.”
“Do you have enough money to do that?”
“Oh, I think I can find it somewhere.” He lifted an arrogant brow. “I’m a wealthy man, Anna.”
“How useful!” Anna pursed her lips. “Perhaps we can assist Lady Putney, too. As much as I dislike her, I hate to see someone displaced. I wonder if we can’t just let her stay at Greyley until—”
Anthony kissed her. Kissed her so hard and so thoroughly that it was several moments before she could think, much less speak, and when she could speak, she only managed a rather weak “Oh my!”
“Get used to it,” he said roughly. “That’s the way I’m going to keep you from focusing your meddling on anyone other than me or the children.”
Warmth spread through Anna and she grinned happily up at him. “Then I had better get busy. There are a lot of things I want to change.”
“About me?”
“No. About your bedchamber. That bed is far too large for just one person.” She traced her finger across his bottom lip. “And I was thinking…”
“I love the way you think,” he said gruffly. “But not as much as I love you.” Within minutes Anna was wrapped in a cloak and on her way home to Greyley, certain, for the first time in her life, that she was exactly where she wanted to be.
Epilogue
I love a good wedding. Especially when it isn’t mine.
Brand St. John to Lady Julia McLean, Viscountess Hunterston, at the wedding of the Earl of Greyley to Miss Anna Thraxton
Sir Phineas took a deep puff of his cigarillo. The rich smoke filled his lungs and sent a peaceful surge all the way to his toes. Stretching mightily, he leaned back in the leather chair and placed his feet on the desk, admiring the shine of his new shoes.
It was peaceful here, despite the hum of the wedding guests who were even now leaving Greyley House, having enjoyed Lord Greyley’s lavish hospitality. Carriages rimmed the long drive as, one after another, the late stayers made their way back to their own homes.
With a happy sigh, Sir Phineas refilled his glass from a decanter of nearby port, silently commending Anthony’s private stock. That was yet another thing he liked about his new grandson-in-law—the man had impeccable taste. “Of course he does,” Phineas murmured, toasting the air. “He married a Thraxton, didn’t he?”
And did it in style, too. Phineas took an appreciative sip of port. The wedding had been held in a small chapel not ten minutes from the house, only immediate friends and family in attendance. But the reception had been far more elaborate. Anthony had thrown wide the doors to Greyley, and the huge house had been filled with the cream of the ton.
/> He’d been unstinting in the lavish affair, the house festooned with garlands of flowers and yards of pale blue and cream silk. Anna had protested over the amount of money spent, but Anthony had held firm. The reception had been one of the social events of the year.
Sir Phineas understood the earl’s desire for the huge event—he’d faced down the gossipmongers who would whisper “governess” every chance they got, with gilt-edged invitations, cases of the best champagne, and an array of delicate ice sculptures that caused a constant murmur of appreciation. Oh yes, Sir Phineas liked his new grandson-in-law quite well.
Now all was right with the world; the Thraxtons were once again established in the eyes of society and Sir Phineas was exactly where he’d wanted to be—in Greyley’s luxuriously appointed library. Yawning in contentment, he rose to flip his extinguished cigarillo out the window, then returned to his comfortable chair. He propped his feet on the desk, leaned back, and closed his eyes. Time lolled to a stop…
“Sleeping?” piped a young voice so close to his ear that he bolted straight upright and almost fell out of the chair.
Selena stood at his elbow. She grinned at him, her white gown sporting a green stain, twigs sticking out of her mussed curls.
His heart slowed to normal and he grinned in return. “Running from Lily, are you?”
She nodded, then leaned closer to whisper. “She tolded me it was bath day. I don’t like bath day.”
“Hm. I suppose you want to hide in here, with me.”
Selena climbed into his lap and snuggled against him. “Thank you.”
“You are incorrigible,” he said, mussing her curls. “Where are the others?”
A sly smile tickled the little girl’s face. “It’s a secret.”
Chuckling, Sir Phineas hugged her to him and lit another cigarillo. He’d just settled back in his chair when the door flew open and Brand St. John stormed into the room. “Where is he?” the young man demanded, his mouth white, something clutched in his hand.
“Where is who?” Sir Phineas asked.
“My brother, that mangy, ill-begotten lump of—” Brand caught Selena’s wide gaze and reddened. “Anthony. I want to speak to Anthony.”
“He’s gone. Left for the honeymoon not ten minutes ago.” Sir Phineas made a perfect smoke ring while Selena giggled.
Brand’s face showed disbelief. “I thought they weren’t leaving until tomorrow!”
“Oh, I sent them off. After all, I’m here to see to things.”
“Yes, but—” Brand stared with a bemused expression at a small glittering circlet that lay in his palm. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”
Sir Phineas pulled Selena more comfortably into his lap so that he could lean forward to peer at the ring. “Ah, I’ve heard about that thing. Anna told me about it.”
“Did she mention that Anthony ordered Jenkins to hide it in my piece of cake?” Brand asked sourly. “I nearly broke a tooth.”
“I thought I broked a tooth once,” Selena piped up. “Only it was a rock in my peas.”
“It’s not quite the same thing,” Brand grumbled. “What do I do now? Everyone has already left. I’ll have this blasted thing until Michaelmas.”
“If you are fast enough, you might be able to find your brother Chase. I saw him not twenty minutes ago talking to a handsome young widow as she sat in her carriage in the drive. I daresay he’s there still.”
Brightening, Brand spun on his heel and left. Sir Phineas laughed softly. He wasn’t sure he believed that nonsense about the talisman ring any more than the St. Johns themselves. Still…Anthony had had it in his possession when he’d won Anna, so perhaps there was a little something to it after all. Sir Phineas blew another smoke ring and watched it drift to the ceiling. Perhaps the dashing Brand St. John was on his way to an adventure of his own.
Sir Phineas decided that he was going to enjoy being a part of the St. John family. It was a perfect place for him, especially since he so loved happy endings. Chuckling softly, Sir Phineas rubbed his chin against Selena’s soft curls, lolled back in the chair once more, and propped his feet back on the wide desk.
About the Author
On a fateful day seven years ago Karen Hawkins looked into a mirror and discovered not one, but TWO gray hairs. Alarmed, she immediately left her master’s degree in political science behind and retreated into the world of fantasy, where she remains happily ensconced—forever twenty-one with a slender, voluptuous body and long, flowing chestnut hair. Winner of the prestigious Maggie Award of Excellence and author of an RWA Favourite Book of the Year for 2000, Karen now writes full time and devotes herself to avoiding all forms of housework.
You can write to Karen at
P.O. Box 5292
Kingsport, TN 37663-5292
or visit her online at http://www.karenhawkins.com
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Other Books by
Karen Hawkins
LADY IN RED
AND THE BRIDE WORE PLAID
HOW TO TREAT A LADY
CONFESSIONS OF A SCOUNDREL
AN AFFAIR TO REMEMBER
THE SEDUCTION OF SARA
A BELATED BRIDE
THE ABDUCTION OF JULIA
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
AN AFFAIR TO REMEMBER. Copyright © 2002 by Karen Hawkins.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
First Avon Books paperback printing: AUGUST 2002
EPub Edition March © 2009 ISBN 9780061895951
FIRST EDITION
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