She jumped to her feet and swiped at her eyes.
A little more and she would have another mosaic unveiled. This one seemed to be the floor of what was probably the winter dining room. She thought it even had heating under the floor. Tomorrow she would need Susan to sketch it.
She bent back to her task, humming a country ditty. Anything to make herself feel less melancholy.
‘Why don’t you sing the song?’
She started, dropped the fine brush she had been using to remove dirt and craned her neck around. Hugo stood in the clearing. She hadn’t heard him.
‘I didn’t hear you.’
He shrugged, his broad shoulders moving eloquently in the loosely-fitting brown jacket. ‘You were entertaining yourself.’
‘What brings you here?’
She turned back to her work. The last thing she intended to do was to let him upset her or, worse yet, to entice her. She didn’t care that he was willing to carry on their liaison. She was not.
‘Elizabeth just arrived.’
‘And?’ She was not about to tell him she had seen his future wife drive by.
‘I wanted you to know so you would not be taken unawares.’
‘That was nice of you.’
She was proud her voice was cool and nearly mocking. He would never know how much this hurt her. Never.
‘You don’t make anything easy, do you?’
She stopped swishing the brush, but did not look at him. ‘Why should I? I didn’t cause this situation.’
‘Dammit, Annabell.’
She turned at that. He stepped toward her, and she put out her hand to stop him.
‘Don’t come near me, Hugo.’
His eyes smouldered. ‘Why not? Don’t you trust yourself with me?’
She stood so as not to feel overwhelmed by him. ‘If you must know, then no. I don’t trust myself with you. Or you with me. You are engaged to someone else, but you make no bones about the fact that you still want to bed me. I won’t do it, Hugo. I won’t. Not again.’ Her voice cracked.
‘Why not, Annabell? You enjoyed last night, I have the scratches to prove it,’ he ended with a wry twist of his beautiful lips.
‘I told you.’
Anger darkened his face. ‘You told me you wouldn’t do to another woman what was done to you. But that isn’t your real reason, is it?’
She shrugged and pushed back a thick strand of hair that had come loose from the bun at her nape. ‘Of course it is.’
‘Very noble,’ he said sardonically. ‘Then if that is part of your reason, it isn’t all.’ He moved a step closer. ‘It isn’t as though you wanted to marry me yourself. Is it?’
‘Not wanting to marry you myself and having you marry someone else are two totally different things.’ But how could she explain something to him she didn’t really understand herself. ‘Had you remained single, we could have continued our liaison indefinitely.’
‘We can continue it once I’m married.’
All she could do was look at him. Why didn’t he understand? She had told him last night that she loved him and regretted having done so more than she could say. At least he hadn’t thrown that at her. But neither had he told that he loved her in return.
‘I thought last night was the end,’ she finally said. ‘I thought you came to me to say goodbye.’ Her hands clenched. ‘You left me those jewels.’
‘I bought them especially for you, Bell. I would have bought them for you if Elizabeth had never existed. They are my gift to you.’
‘I told you I didn’t want them, but you left them. I told you I won’t continue our liaison, yet you persist in hounding me.’ Her voice rose in anguish. ‘When will you listen to me and leave me alone?’
He stared at her, his shoulders tense, his mouth thin. ‘I don’t know, Bell. I can’t seem to stop myself. No matter what has come between us, you are all I think about. All I want.’
She twisted around, her fist ground into her mouth to keep from sobbing. Her shoulders hunched. ‘Please go, Hugo. Just go.’
Her misery must have reached him. She heard his footsteps and then Molly snorting, followed by the clop of hooves on the damp ground and then the dirt road. Annabell took a deep breath and willed herself to relax. Her shoulders slumped, her fist fell from her mouth and she turned.
He was gone. It was just as well. She had things to do. Thank goodness she had work.
Hugo rode away.
Why had he confronted her? Why was he provoking her? He was the one who had offered for another woman’s hand. He was the one who had broken Annabell’s trust even though neither one of them had ever promised the other exclusivity. He had never said I love you.
But she had. He had not answered her. It didn’t matter what he thought. He was engaged to Elizabeth Mainwaring.
He must have yanked on the reins for Molly shied. He soothed her. ‘Easy, girl. I didn’t mean to do that.’ She responded to his voice and calmed.
And why had he brought up marriage to Annabell? What good would it do either of them if he forced her to tell him she wanted to marry him? Nothing. In his rational moments he knew that. He had never intended to marry her in the first place, just as she had never wanted to marry him. So what was he doing now?
He didn’t know…but he didn’t want to go home to Elizabeth.
He whistled to Molly, their signal for a good run. The exercise would do them both good. He aimed her away from Rosemont.
Chapter Fourteen
Annabell studied herself in the full-length bevelled mirror. She was not a beauty. Never had been, and her silver-blonde hair was too out of the ordinary. Normally it didn’t bother her. Hadn’t bothered her until she had entered the hall and caught a glimpse of the sultry beauty Hugo was to marry. Even now, hours later, she could see Elizabeth Mainwaring in her mind’s eye, and the scent of tuberose seemed to hang heavily in the air.
She made a face at herself. She had nearly worn the mauve gown, but the memories had been too fresh, too unsettling. Instead she had settled on this simple dinner dress of white gauze striped with blue. It was fancier than they had been wearing, but she sensed Lady Mainwaring would be dressed much more glamorously.
Unable and unwilling to do ringlets, she had braided her hair and wrapped it around the back of her head. She jabbed a small spray of diamonds into one side.
Against her earlier better judgement, she had even donned the aquamarines. They sparkled and shone in the light from the candelabra. Hugo had been right. They complemented her skin and hair colouring. They looked good on her.
But she hadn’t wanted them. Had threatened to return them. She even considered them an insult. Yet, in a moment of weakness she had put them on. She had wanted to wear something Hugo had given her when she met the woman who had taken him from her, who would likely be wearing his ring. Stupid and silly, but there it was.
She sighed and turned away.
She thought briefly of sending her excuses, then chided herself for a coward. She had never run from adversity or pain. Even when Fenwick-Clyde had been at his worst, she had faced him and lived through the ordeal. She might have cried later, but he never knew.
Nor would Hugo know.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. After she was through this, nothing would ever be hard again.
She made her way down the hall to the stairs and down to the salon where everyone gathered for a drink before dinner. A footman waited to announce her. She shook her head. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself. Better to see what was going on before anyone knew she was here. More than anything, she wanted to see Hugo with his fiancée before he realised she was there. She just hoped he would not be hanging on Lady Mainwaring’s every move or admiring her every gesture and ample curve.
Annabell sighed and passed one gloved hand briefly over her eyes, wishing she could shut out the world as easily as she could block her view.
She paused in the doorway to the salon. She
had made sure she would be the last to arrive so she would have the least amount of time to mingle with the other guests before dinner was served. Seeing Elizabeth Mainwaring practically draped across Hugo’s right arm made her heart ache and confirmed the intelligence of her decision. She had a long, miserable meal ahead of her.
Susan immediately bustled in her direction. ‘Annabell, what took you so long? You are usually the first to arrive and tonight you are the last. I had begun to think I should send a servant to see if you were unwell.’ She paused long enough to take a breath. ‘You are very handsome tonight. The white and blue becomes you enormously. And the aquamarines. They are magnificent.’ Her eyebrows rose, for she knew Annabell did not own such jewellery. When Annabell refused to answer her companion’s silent question, Susan turned slightly. ‘Don’t you agree, Mr Tatterly?’
Tatterly, his square face looking frazzled, nodded. ‘Very fine, Lady Fenwick-Clyde. You are absolutely correct, Miss Pennyworth.’
Annabell swallowed a groan. Leave it to Susan to mention the aquamarines. Silly as it now seemed, she had hoped no one would mention them. And Juliet and Timothy might not have. But Susan knew exactly what she owned right down to what she had brought with her. There was no help for it but to brazen it out.
‘Thank you, Susan. Mr Tatterly.’ She smiled at the footman who extended a tray of sherry. ‘I was detained because I spent longer than normal today at the site.’
Juliet drifted over, a smile making her face radiant. ‘Did you find something new?’
Annabell shook her head. ‘Not really, but I am still uncovering my latest discovery. I want to be very careful not to damage anything.’
Timothy, who had followed Juliet, frowned. ‘Do you think it is safe to stay so late? A woman alone?’
Annabell swallowed a sharp retort. That was just the thing she expected from him. He didn’t mean any disrespect, he just considered women to be the weaker sex.
Patiently, she said, ‘I am well able to care for myself, Timothy, but I thank you for your concern.’
‘Oh, dear, yes,’ Susan said. ‘The places we have travelled. Why, we met on a packet ship coming home from Egypt. Annabell was the kindest possible, taking me under her wing when it became obvious I was having trouble with my lively charge who had decided she was enamoured of a gentleman. When he turned his attentions to Annabell, she made short shrift of him.’
‘Really,’ Hugo drawled, having wandered over with Elizabeth Mainwaring still draped across his arm like a serving towel. ‘In what way, if I may be so bold as to inquire?’
Annabell pressed her lips together and forbore to give Susan a minatory look. The woman had no idea the trouble she caused when she tried to help.
‘Oh, nothing out of the ordinary.’ Annabell waved a hand as though to negate the story.
‘Oh, no, it was more than that,’ Susan interposed. ‘Why, I saw Annabell push him over the railing and into the Nile. Nasty, dirty water it was too.’ She laughed. ‘When they fished him out, he was none too happy, but there was nothing he could do.’
‘Indeed?’ Hugo’s eyes had an unholy gleam in them. ‘Was he being impertinent?’
‘No, really, Annabell,’ Timothy Fenwick-Clyde said before she could reply. ‘That is too bad of you. Surely there was another way to curb him. Wasn’t there a British gentleman to protect you? Or was this one of your wild trips you took after m’father’s demise?’
Annabell looked from one man to the other. Each wore a totally different expression, but she didn’t appreciate either one. The urge to give them both a set down was strong.
‘I may be only a woman, but that does not mean I am incapable of taking care of myself. That particular malady is more often than not a myth perpetuated by the male gender in order to keep the female subservient.’
The scent of tuberoses filled the air. ‘A veritable Amazon,’ Elizabeth Mainwaring drawled in her raspy, provocative voice.
The sensual sound reminded Annabell of a cat that was being scratched by a besotted owner. She wondered if it reminded Hugo of a woman who has been well bedded. Her throat closed on the thought, and she had to consciously make herself relax. It would do her no good to dwell on Hugo and his sexual liaisons.
She looked at the woman. Elizabeth Mainwaring was provocation personified. She wore an evening gown in the latest London fashion, very high waisted and very low in the décolletage. The black satin, to differentiate it from the matte crepe of mourning, became her pale complexion and creamy bosom. The magnificent diamond necklace that seemed to drip like stars between her full breasts shone to perfection against her skin and gown. Her honey-blonde hair was curled around her perfectly oval face, accentuating her large blue eyes, before being braided around the back of her head. Her waist was small and her bosom and hips fully rounded. She was—stunning.
No wonder Hugo had made her his mistress and now his future wife. For the first time in her life, Annabell felt inadequate. Always before she had known she was tall and elegant with an adequate figure and with a mind that held its own in any company. Now, she appreciated painfully how a beautiful woman could mesmerise with nothing more than her body.
And there was the engagement ring, an opal surrounded by diamonds, not too big and not too small. The setting was modern, as though Hugo had recently purchased it. Annabell swallowed hard.
‘Yes,’ Hugo drawled. ‘Lady Fenwick-Clyde is very like those mythical female warriors.’
His voice brought Annabell back to the conversation. She dragged her attention from the woman still curled around him. That sight only worsened her already sore heart.
She made her eyes meet Elizabeth Mainwaring’s before moving on to Hugo’s. ‘A woman has many weapons in her arsenal to achieve what she wants. I choose to use my hard-won independence.’
Lady Mainwaring’s blue eyes narrowed. ‘And others do not?’
Annabell shrugged, regretting her hasty words. She didn’t even know this woman, only by gossip and the picture she presented this evening. She had no right to judge her or to make veiled aspersions against her.
‘Women are powerless in our society unless they are widows or dearly loved by the men in their lives. Any means to achieve happiness is worth using. I have chosen to use my independence since Fenwick-Clyde’s demise to ensure that I am able to do as I wish.’ She gave Timothy an apologetic look. ‘I do hope you understand, Timothy.’
He nodded, but his complexion was pale. ‘Perfectly.’
‘Dinner is served,’ the butler intoned, breaking the tension that had developed.
Hugo took his stepmother’s arm and escorted her to the dining room while Timothy took Lady Mainwaring on one arm and Annabell on the other. Miss Pennyworth followed happily with Mr Tatterly.
Annabell heard Susan chattering on behind them. Thankfully someone had been unaware of the storm brewing so recently. Which was usual, since Susan had started it without any wish to cause trouble. It was simply her personality.
‘How very difficult it must be for a gentleman of your sensibilities to have a stepmother of such independence,’ Lady Elizabeth Mainwaring said in dulcet tones.
Annabell felt Timothy’s muscles tense under her fingers. The other woman had hit the bull’s-eye with one shot. That always had been the major source of friction between the two of them. They had finally reached a tacit agreement to smile politely, inquire about one another’s health and then go their separate ways.
‘Annabell more than earned her independence,’ Timothy said. ‘I am happy she values it.’
Annabell nearly stopped in her tracks. That was the nearest thing to an acceptance of her that she had ever heard her stepson say.
‘Why, thank you, Timothy.’
He looked down at her, his eyes turbulent. ‘You are welcome.’
He led each of them to their seats. Lady Mainwaring sat to Hugo’s right in honour of her engagement to him. Lady Fitzsimmon sat at the opposite end of the table from Hugo as befitted the current Lady Fitzsimmon. Annab
ell sat on Hugo’s left, a position she found disturbing, but could do nothing about. Her stepson sat beside her with Mr Tatterly across from him. Susan sat beside Mr Tatterly. They were an uneven number.
The first course began. Turtle soup and fish.
Annabell found she was not hungry, even for the turtle soup, a delicacy she normally relished. Across from her Lady Mainwaring ate sparingly, all the while keeping a light chatter going that included Hugo and Mr Tatterly. Both men looked interested, although Mr Tatterly made a point of trying to include Susan.
Annabell fiddled with her spoon and declined the salmon. Instead, she sipped steadily on her wine. She noticed everyone else also imbibed freely, particularly Hugo.
‘Would you like some turbot?’ he asked.
She looked directly at him for the first time since sitting down. He looked far from happy. Comfortable, yes, but then he was very experienced.
‘No, thank you.’
‘As you wish.’
His voice was bored and dismissive. It hurt. She took another sip of wine.
‘Lady Fenwick-Clyde,’ Lady Mainwaring addressed her. ‘Do you find that London is quite flat with everyone on the Continent?’
‘Not everyone is there and the Season is barely started.’
‘True.’
Inanities, Annabell thought. A way for two women who want the same man to pass the time without being at each other’s throat. And they still had several courses to go before dessert, after which she could plead a headache and escape to her room. As she had done last night. Only Hugo would not follow her tonight—or any other night.
The conversation buzzed around her. Her stepson, Timothy, concentrated almost exclusively on his hostess. A pretty flush made Juliet’s skin glow. Her gown of a white muslin slip overlaid by a celestial-coloured netting further complemented her blue eyes and blush-red hair. She was pretty and gentle.
Annabell felt Hugo’s attention on her. Heat crept from her stomach to her face. Fortunately the table was large enough that they were too far apart for him to touch her even by accident.
She finally turned to look at him, determined to act with more spine. ‘Do you wish to say something to me, Sir Hugo?’
An Unconventional Widow Page 20