“Mama, Da, what a surprise.”
Mama’s brows dropped and she gave him one of her looks. All right, yes, it was a silly thing to have said, but he was fresh out of witty conversational gambits.
“I don’t know why you should be surprised; I’m sure Nicholas told you we were in Town.”
“Ah.” He couldn’t very well deny it with Nick standing right there. “Yes, well, in any event, let me make known to you Lady Anne Marston, the Earl of Crane’s daughter.” He turned to Anne. “Anne, my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Parker-Roth.”
“And who might this be?” Da asked. Harry was sniffing his boots and breeches.
“That’s our dog, Harry, sir,” Philip said. “He’s quite friendly.”
“I can see that.”
“We are taking him for a romp in the park after we’ve visited the menagerie.”
“The menagerie, eh? I haven’t seen the menagerie in years,” Da said. “May we join you?”
“Of course, sir,” Philip said. He and the others started up the path to the Lion Tower. Mama stayed with Stephen and Anne.
“Are your father and stepmother here in London with you, Lady Anne?” Mama asked.
She must know they weren’t; Stephen felt sure she’d ferreted out every detail of Anne’s visit to Town the moment she’d learned of their engagement.
“No.” Did Anne sound the slightest bit bitter? “My father and Lady Crane are currently in Greece, investigating a new discovery of antiquities. But my cousin, Miss Clorinda Strange, is acting as our chaperone—or, my sister’s chaperone. I am far too old to require her services.”
“Oh, yes, I can see you are indeed ancient.” Mama laughed. “Don’t be nonsensical, Lady Anne. You are in the prime of your life.”
Anne flushed. “Oh, no. That is, I’m twenty-seven. Quite on the shelf.”
Mama raised her brows in a manner that clearly said, “Are you a complete cabbage-head?” “Perhaps you were on the shelf, my dear; now I understand you are betrothed to my son.”
Anne’s flush deepened. Her mouth opened and closed twice, and then a determined look entered her eyes. Damn. She was going to tell Mama the complete story. He couldn’t let her do that.
He put his hand over hers where it rested on his arm and squeezed gently. She glared at him, her mouth opening once more. He squeezed harder. Her eyes narrowed, but at least she snapped her lips closed.
He felt Mama scrutinizing them. She must suspect something—with six children she had perfected her ability to sniff out even the slightest whiff of subterfuge—but at least she couldn’t know exactly what was amiss.
“Yes, indeed, Mama. Lady Anne has made me the happiest of men.”
“This is somewhat sudden, isn’t it?” Mama directed her question to Anne, obviously having concluded she would have far more success extracting the truth from her.
“Yes and no.” Stephen spoke quickly to forestall Anne’s reply. “We met years ago at a house party. I was too young to consider marriage then, but I couldn’t banish Anne from my thoughts.” Mama’s eyes widened. It was quite a plumper to swallow, but Mama was a romantic at heart—perhaps she wouldn’t choke on it. “When I saw her again, I had to propose.” He smiled and delivered his winning thrust. “I grant you, I was a bit impetuous, but I’m definitely old enough to marry, as you were just telling me at Jack’s christening.” He grinned. “So you see you are at least partly responsible for our betrothal, Mama.”
Mama nodded, acknowledging a direct hit, but she was a fighter where her children were concerned. She wouldn’t give up easily. “At whose house party did you meet?”
“Baron Gedding’s.”
Mama’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t know you were on intimate terms with the baron.”
“One doesn’t need to be on intimate terms with one’s host to get an invitation.”
“I don’t remember you ever attending such a gathering.”
He raised his own brows. “I hesitate to inform you, Mama, but I’ve attended many gatherings of which you are not aware.”
She frowned and pressed her lips together. To give her her due, she had never tried to keep any of her children in leading strings. She might not be completely happy about it, but she recognized her sons needed their freedom, and though she kept her ears open for any gossip that came her way, she didn’t actively seek it out or pry into their personal affairs.
She looked at Anne again. “And were you also taken with my son?”
Anne blushed. “Oh, yes.”
Zeus, she sounded sincere; Stephen hadn’t thought her that accomplished an actress.
Was she acting? Could she possibly have developed a tendre for him? An odd, warm feeling started in the vicinity of his heart.
He shook himself mentally. He’d started believing their Banbury tale. He’d not actually been at Gedding’s gathering; he hadn’t met Anne before their encounter in Hyde Park. Of course she had no special feelings for him.
The warmth faded, leaving behind a cold, irritable feeling. As cork-brained as he admitted it was, he wished Anne truly was in love with him.
Nick walked toward them, almost dragging Harry barking insistently behind him.
“My heavens, what is all the commotion about, Nicholas?” Mama asked.
“Harry took exception to the lions, I’m afraid.”
Stephen laughed. “Perhaps he thinks they are merely overgrown versions of Lady Dunlee’s cat, Miss Whiskers.”
“Lady Dunlee!” Mama grimaced. “Surely you haven’t been associating with that woman?”
So Mama hadn’t heard all the details of the scandal . . . yet. Unfortunately, she’d get a complete, most likely embellished accounting of his actions at the first society event she attended. Not that the incident could be embellished much and still be fit for female ears. He had behaved outrageously, though he didn’t regret a moment of that encounter—well, except for the fact that it had caused Anne some distress.
“Unfortunately, Lady Dunlee lives next door to Crane House, Mrs. Parker-Roth,” Anne said.
“Oh, you poor dear.” Mama made a tsking sound and shook her head. “That woman is a terrible busybody. She was the one who spread the tale of my oldest son’s encounter with Meg—his wife now, but not then—in Lord Palmerson’s garden.” She smiled mischievously. “Though I suppose I really should thank her. If she hadn’t gossiped far and wide, John might never have pulled his head out of his plants long enough to notice Meg, and I couldn’t ask for a better match for him. She’s very interested in botany herself, but she’s also a delightful girl—and she’s presented us with a wonderful grandson.”
“Oh, Lord,” Nick said, “don’t get Mama talking about her grandchildren. She’ll go on until you scream for mercy—and she only has two so far.”
“Nicholas!” Mama tried to sound offended, but she couldn’t quite keep a thread of amusement from her voice. “I hope I am not such a bore.”
“Of course you aren’t, Mama.” Nick rolled his eyes.
Harry, having subsided for a moment, decided to redouble his efforts to get back to the lions. He jerked on the leash so vigorously, he almost pulled Nick over.
“If you’ll excuse us, Harry and I will retreat to the carriages and save you your hearing.” Nick pulled back on the leash. “I think everyone will be following shortly, so if you do want to see any of the animals, you’d best go on now.”
“How can they be leaving so soon?” Mama asked. “They just arrived.”
Nick shrugged. “I’m afraid the menagerie proved rather disappointing. Come, Harry.”
Harry offered a few more protestations, but finally gave up and followed Nick with fairly good grace.
“Disappointing?” Mama looked surprised as they continued up the path. “How can that be? Didn’t you find it exciting when you were young, Stephen? I’m sure I did whenever we visited. You don’t see a hyena or a jackal every day.”
“No, indeed.” Anne nodded. “I can’t imagine how the twins could fail to
be thrilled.”
“The menagerie has declined over the years, Mama,” Stephen said. “There’s only a handful of animals left.” He paid their entrance fee, and they went through the gate and down to the animal cages. They got jostled a bit by the crowd, but he was able to keep Mama and Anne from the worst of it.
Da came over as soon as he saw them and took Mama’s arm. “It’s not the same menagerie we remember, Cecilia. It’s much smaller and a bit shabby.”
Philip nodded. “It’s all a hum, Mrs. Parker-Roth. There’s only a panther, a leopard, a tiger, four lions, and a bear.”
“And they don’t do anything,” George said, clearly disgusted. “They just lie there.”
“They are in such dreadfully small cages,” Evie said. “It’s so sad. The animals all look mangy and tired.”
“Only one tiger and one panther?” Mama asked. “And no jackal or hyena?”
“That’s right,” Da said. “Here, come see for yourself.”
They stepped over to the nearest cage where they saw a rather moth-eaten looking tiger, sound asleep. Mama, Da, and Evie moved on. Stephen started to follow with Anne.
“Anne,” George said in a slightly whiny tone, “me and Philip have seen everything already.”
Anne let go of Stephen’s arm to turn to the boys. “Philip and I, George. And we won’t be much longer.”
“But can’t we go find Harry now, Anne?” Philip asked. “Please?”
“Well . . .”
A pack of boisterous boys pushed between Stephen and Anne. He lost sight of her for a moment. When he saw her again, she was going back up the ramp to the gate with George and Philip.
Damn it, what was she thinking? A pair of ten-year-old boys couldn’t provide her adequate protection.
“Da.” He pressed through the group of people around the leopard’s cage and grabbed his father’s arm. “I have to go after Anne. She and the boys have gone to the carriages. Will you take care of Evie for me as well as Mama?”
Da nodded. “Of course.”
Stephen didn’t wait to discuss the matter further, but pushed his way through the crowd. Bloody hell, Anne and the boys were already out of sight. Wait, was that Anne’s bonnet? If he hurried—
He bumped up against the back of a very large woman. She turned to glare at him. Blast!
“My apologies, madam. I hope you will excuse me. I’m trying to catch up to my companion.”
The woman put her massive arms on her hips so she blocked even more of the walkway. “Trying to catch up to your companion, are you? You think that gives you the right to abuse anyone you wish?”
An equally sizeable man, who’d been slightly ahead of the woman, stopped and came back. “Is this fellow annoying you, Madge? I’ll be happy to take him outside and deal with him.”
The only way this puff-guts could “deal with” Stephen would be to sit on him, but Stephen didn’t have time for an argument. “Sir, I was just apologizing to this lady. I very clumsily bumped into her.” He turned back to the woman. “Madam, please accept my abject apologies. I was completely at fault. My only excuse is my concern for my fiancée. We became separated and now she is in the crowd alone.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so at once?” Madge smiled at the large man. “The boy’s in love, Bert. I suppose we can’t hold that against him, can we?”
Bert laughed. “No, I suppose we can’t. I was like that once, too, wasn’t I?”
“I believe you were—thirty years ago.”
The couple still hadn’t got out of his way. He was becoming desperate. Surely Anne wouldn’t run into trouble in such a short time? Surely the boys would have the sense to stay by her.
Surely he wouldn’t start bellowing if these people didn’t move very, very soon.
“If you will excuse me, then? I am most anxious to find my fiancée.”
“Of course you are,” Madge said. She finally stepped aside. “Hurry on, then. Go find her.”
“My heartfelt thanks.” He almost ran past them.
“Ah,” he heard Madge sigh. “There’s nothing like young love, is there, Bert?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Bert said roguishly. “Let’s go home and see, shall we?”
He put Bert and Madge firmly out of his mind as he threaded his way through the crowd. Why did so many people walk so slowly? He’d swear everyone was purposely getting in his way.
There. Anne was across the yard, standing all alone by the wall. The boys were nowhere in sight, damn it. She was—
Bloody hell! Brentwood had just come up to her. So there was still a hyena in the menagerie. Well, he’d put a stop to that.
He was starting toward them when a hand grabbed his sleeve.
“Stephen,” Maria said, “how lovely to see you.”
“Lady Anne, what a delightful coincidence.”
Brentwood sounded pleasant enough, but Anne heard the threat in his voice. Her eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”
His brows shot up. “I had a sudden desire to view the animals. The menagerie is open to the public, you know. Did you think I slipped in without paying my admission fee?”
That was the most shocking bouncer she’d ever heard. She no more believed he was here by coincidence than she thought the moon was made of cheese. “You’re following me.”
His smile was repulsive. He did belong at the menagerie, but inside the cages. “Perhaps. I enjoy looking at you and imagining what I’ll be doing with you in just a few days.” He waggled his brows. “I find anticipation is half the pleasure, don’t you?”
“Anticipating having anything to do with you makes me ill.” She’d like to tell him she’d die before she’d go to his bed, but she couldn’t, not yet. First, she needed to come up with a plan to mitigate the damage his revealing her secret would do to Evie’s Season—and be sure Evie knew never to be alone with the man; then she could allow herself the satisfaction of letting him know exactly what she thought of him.
And she had to tell Stephen the truth first as well. Even though telling him in person meant she’d be compelled to watch his expression turn from amiable to disgusted, she owed him that courtesy. She could not let him find out from gossip.
Brentwood’s eyes narrowed. “I hope you aren’t considering reneging on our bargain, my sweet. I assure you that would be a very bad decision. I will have no compunction about ravaging your reputation—and perhaps your charming sister—completely. Neither of you will be able to hold your head up in society. All doors will be shut firmly in your face; everyone will give you the cut direct. You will be forced to flee London with your tail between your legs.”
His lips slid into a lecherous smile. “Much better to let me between those lovely legs.” His eyes wandered over her. “But this time I’ll have you naked, so I can see all your charms and watch my cock slide into you.”
She swallowed bile and clutched her skirts to keep from slapping him—or kneeing him in the groin.
He laughed. “Such spirit! If you look down at my breeches, you’ll see I am most, most eager to enjoy all that fire.”
“I will fight you.”
“I do hope you will. That will make the encounter all the more exciting. I plan to have you many, many times—on your back, on your knees, maybe even against the wall like I did the first time.”
Her face was flaming; her gut was a hard, tight knot. “You are disgusting.”
“Indeed I am.” He touched her cheek and she flinched away from him. He laughed again. “And I wager you’ll enjoy every disgusting moment. You have the hair—and the soul—of a whore, you know.”
“I do not.” She would hit him if she stayed here another moment. “And I will hate every second.”
He shrugged. “Very well. It makes no difference to me.” He leaned close. “I’ve often found an unwilling partner is even more . . . stimulating.”
Hadn’t anyone noted her discomfort? Surely someone would step in to assist her. The twins were long gone, but perhaps the others? S
he looked hopefully back toward the animal cages—and saw Stephen . . . with Lady Noughton.
“Don’t think your fiancé will help you,” Brentwood said, following her gaze. “On the contrary, he’ll be delighted with your disgrace. Even the highest stickler wouldn’t fault him then for ending his betrothal. And once free of you, he can wed Maria.”
“He doesn’t care for Lady Noughton.” She knew Brentwood was lying. He must be. Stephen had told her he was done with his mistress. He wasn’t making the slightest effort to hide his annoyance with the widow now. She watched him firmly detach himself from her grasp.
“Did he—the King of Hearts—tell you that? Oh, sweetheart, you are so gullible.”
She looked Brentwood in the eye. “And I should believe you, the man who seduced me with talk of love and marriage when I was just a seventeen-year-old girl? The man who lured me into Baron Gedding’s garden and took my virginity with all the gentleness of a rutting bull?”
“Is that how you’ve justified it to yourself?” Brentwood’s voice was cold with derision. “You red-headed whore. Don’t lie to yourself. You wanted it. You were as bad as a bitch in heat. I was doing you a favor, scratching your itch for you.”
She was too angry to speak. Fortunately, Stephen reached them before she could find her voice. A moment later and she might have completely dropped the reins on her temper.
“Lady Anne, are you all right?” Stephen took her hand and rested it on his arm, covering it with his strong, warm fingers. “You look”—his voice hardened and he turned to glare at Brentwood—“distressed.”
She took a sustaining breath and let the comfort of his nearness calm her. “Thank you, but I’m fine now.”
“Of course you are,” Lady Noughton said, pushing past Stephen. “Lady Anne and Lord Brentwood are old friends, aren’t you, Lady Anne?”
Lady Noughton should have asked Brentwood if she wanted agreement. “Friends?” Anne said, injecting all the incredulity she could into the word. She shook her head. “Oh, no. Acquaintances, merely—and hardly that.”
Brentwood laughed. “Come now, my dear. Acquaintances ? We are far more . . . intimate than acquaintances.”
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