"Asked me what?"
"Has he asked you to marry him?"
Anne hated quarreling with Catherine, and their quarrels were rare.
Suddenly she realized that the reason she rarely quarreled with Catherine was because she rarely stood up to her. "My dear… Not that it's any concern of yours — Delmere has not come up to scratch as you so vulgarly put it and… it would not matter if he had."
She inhaled deeply and told herself that she needed to maintain her poise. "Had he asked, I would have refused. I have no wish to marry again. As I've made plain to you, many times."
She adjusted her chemise, and then held her corset to her body while Marie tied the laces. "I decided to ride to Belton Devering with Delmere — what of it? I'm no young chit you need to flutter over… I've already apologized for leaving the hunt, and that you had to manage everything."
"If you intend whistling Delmere down the wind I have nothing more to say to you. I daresay Belinda Wentworth will snatch him up. You'll have many years to regret your stupidity."
Anne swallowed what she was about to say. Adding heat to their argument wouldn't help matters. Besides, Marie was listening. She contented herself with glaring at Catherine. "I daresay that you have matters to see to… I'll be downstairs in half an hour."
Anne realized that Catherine was furious. Her lips were compressed into a thin line, twin spots of color decorated her cheekbones, and her grey-green eyes flashed green. Catherine opened her mouth to speak, then shook her head and walked out of the room.
"Oh no… " Marie said when they heard Anne's sitting room door slam. "You are brave, ma'am… I fear that Mrs. Grove is angry at me too — such a look she gave me. I should have left the room."
Anne shook her head. "Forget Catherine's pettishness. Hurry Marie, hand me my stockings. Just a simple hairstyle tonight, I think. And Catherine isn't angry with you — she's furious with me."
She stared into the mirror while Marie brushed her hair. Would Delmere propose? Why did Catherine think that he would? She'd suspected that he might, when they had their meal on a table the servants had set up in a small sitting room in the large house at Belton Devering.
Dusty the room might be, but the tablecloth had been pure white. The silver and crystal sparkled in the candlelight and in the glow from the fire in the small hearth. When Delmere met her gaze, she knew that the heat in his eyes meant that they had gone beyond friendship to something else.
So she asked him more questions about India. Then, she asked about Portugal, and Wellington.
She hoped he wouldn't declare himself. While she didn't want to marry again, neither did she want to lose Delmere's friendship.
Finally she shook her head at her own confusion, after she realized that if Delmere did not ask her to marry him, she would be disappointed.
14
The Hunt Ball was a jolly affair. Colonel Marsden made several toasts and gave a long speech describing the best run of the day. Finally the musicians struck up for the first dance of the evening.
Anne caught Delmere's gaze and he strolled towards her. She lost sight of him for a moment when someone touched her arm.
"Yes?" She asked Bunny.
"Could you come upstairs my dear? I think that Mrs. Fetherley has a fever, and I can't find the doctor."
"Mr. Morley looked for him an hour ago — one of the grooms had a nasty fall, so he's out in the stable quarters. I'll send word." She beckoned Thomas.
Then Delmere bowed to her.
She sighed. "I must beg your forgiveness my lord — I must see to a guest who's become ill."
"Of course." He bowed again.
Half an hour later, Anne returned downstairs. She'd seen to Mrs. Fetheley's comfort, and had surrendered her care to the doctor. She looked for Delmere. He was dancing with Belinda Wentworth.
"My lady," Anne turned to find Mrs. Wentworth behind her. "Don't you think that our darling Belinda is looking well? I wouldn't be surprised if Lord Delmere declared himself tonight."
Anne nodded. All eyes were on Delmere and Belinda. "Indeed, she looks lovely," she agreed.
Belinda wore a gown of palest blue, with an over-dress of ivory gauze. The gown's cut showed off her elegant figure to perfection. How had Mrs. Wentworth convinced Madame Lola to make the gown for Belinda? That gown was assuredly very expensive; Anne knew Madame Lola's skill when she saw it.
She sighed. And why were the Wentworths here?
As if in answer to Anne's unspoken question, Mrs. Wentworth said hurriedly: "We knew that Lord Delmere would be at the hunt today. And of course, he insisted that we join him here tonight."
Anne kept her expression as smooth as she could. She smiled politely. "Of course — pardon me, I must speak to Mrs. Jago for a moment."
She escaped from the ballroom, and hurried down to the kitchens. There, everything was organized confusion. Catherine was speaking with Molly. She lifted her eyebrows at Anne, and pulled her out of the way of the hard-working kitchen staff.
"I saw the Wentworth chit dancing with Delmere," Catherine said softly. "What on earth are the Wentworths doing here?"
"Mrs. Wentworth says that Delmere invited them."
"That's a nonsense, surely?"
Anne shrugged. "Does it matter? They're not doing any harm."
"Anne, sometimes you're a fool."
So Catherine was still very angry with her.
"Not only are you and Delmere causing talk, but the talk is also of Miss Wentworth and Delmere. Is that what you want? To have everyone say that you are in competition with Belinda Wentworth?"
Anne laughed aloud. "Is that what they're saying?"
"Yes it is," Catherine said with asperity. "Ah — there's Morley. I need to check on the champagne."
Supper came and went. Anne didn't have a chance to speak to Delmere, because Talverne carried him off to one of the card rooms.
Hours later, she was in the kitchen with Mrs. Jago when Delmere entered.
"Your pardon my lady, I wish to speak with you. Will you walk in the garden with me?"
Anne was tempted to say that it was much too cold outside, but she nodded. Mrs. Jago hurried away and came back with a heavy cloak. Delmere held it for her and settled it around her shoulders.
Mr. Morley had ordered that the gardens be lit with flambeaux, but it was so cold that no one else strolled through the ordered rows of shrubbery, and straw-covered garden beds.
She shivered, and pulled the cloak more tightly around her.
"I'm sorry," he said. "It's too cold — I shouldn't have asked you out here. But I leave The Oaks tomorrow, and you won't be back in town for a few months. I meant to speak at Belton Devering."
She'd slipped overshoes onto her dancing slippers, but her feet were cold. "Yes, let's walk back to the house. I'll be in town in a few weeks, with Lady Jane. I need to see Mr. Kettering."
"Anne — will you be my wife?"
Although she had expected the words, they nevertheless shocked her. "No!" The word was out before realized. "No, of course not, I've long since decided that —"
"You're being foolish. Your secret doesn't disgrace you."
Anne couldn't speak. Heat suffused her body and her face.
He looked down at her, but she couldn't meet his eyes. "Please Anne — please don't refuse right away. Take a little time, and give me your answer when you return to town. I'd made up my mind not to speak, but —"
"Lord Delmere, thank you for the great honor —"
"Don't."
In her sudden confusion, she hadn't realized he was holding her hands. She stared up at him, his face dark in the flaring light of the flambeaux behind him. "No," she repeated, more softly.
He stared at her for a long moment, then dropped her hands and stepped back. He bowed to her. "My lady," he said gently. Then he turned, and walked away, back to the house, with the light blazing from its windows.
Anne stood alone in the darkness.
"What's the matter?" Henry asked Anne the n
ext morning.
She and Anne were in the tack room, helping the stable master and Mr. Bendish to manage the exodus of grooms and horses. Several of the horses which had been injured would remain at Gostwicke Hall, with their grooms, until they'd recovered.
"I am well." Anne refused to look at Henry. She kept her head down, studying the stable books.
"Talverne says that Delmere's already left. He's escorting the Wentworths back to town."
Anne could feel Henry's gaze on her, but she refused to be drawn. She'd spent the night wide awake.
Finally Henry left the estate office, slamming the door behind her. Anne expelled her breath with relief. She dreaded Catherine's questions.
A week into the new year, Anne made up her mind to return to London. Eva could stay at Gostwicke Hall, with Catherine, Bunny, and Henry. All the Eardley cousins and aunts were still in residence.
She was in her bedroom, dressed for departure. Three was sitting at the door. The little dog knew that they were getting ready for a journey, and looked from Anne to Marie, tilting her head from one side to the other as she watched them.
Marie had packed all Anne's new London clothes, under protest. "Ma'am, no one will be in town until March. So we'll be returning to Gostwicke Hall before then, surely?"
Anne had shaken her head. She couldn't face the constant speculation, and the sly whispers of the guests at Gostwicke Hall. She wanted to go home, to her own house. She would focus on her estates. She would ensure that Eva had her season, and by then, everyone would have forgotten the gossip about her and Delmere. The ton always had something new to gossip about.
The bags had been sent down to await the servants' carriage.
Anne was sitting at her dressing table, adjusting her hat, when Catherine entered the room, and motioned to Marie to leave. "Why the sudden rush to return to town?" She asked. She pulled a chair over to sit at the table beside Anne.
"Business with Mr. Kettering," Anne said mildly, not meeting Catherine's gaze. She knew that Catherine was frustrated at Anne's refusal to tell her whether Delmere had spoken.
"It will snow later today. You should not travel. I worry that you'll be trapped somewhere… Write to Kettering, and ask him here. No one's in town — I can't imagine why you would would take it into your head to leave now… Besides, I need you here. You're leaving Eva with me, and I don't need to remind you that she's in your charge."
"I intend writing to Lady Fraser — I'll ask her to visit me at Kingston House. You're right. I need to speak with her about Eva. But I have much to do. Jane will help me — she'll join me in London in a few weeks… Eva is better in the country."
Jane had received a letter from her sister, telling her that her brother was ill. She’d left for York after the Boxing Day Hunt. Travel was uncertain at this time of the year. By the time Jane reached her family home near York, spent a week there, and then journeyed to London, Anne would be lucky to see her before February.
"By which you mean that you're miserable, and mean to cocoon yourself for months. Tell me what happened with Delmere. Did he declare himself?"
Anne sighed.
"He did!" Catherine said triumphantly. "I knew it… so that was why he left The Oaks so suddenly. Are you meeting him in town? Surely you don't mean to marry in secret — without your family around you?"
"He asked. I refused." Anne knew that Catherine would give her no peace until she told her.
"Why? The man's in love with you, you silly —!"
Anne glanced at her sister. Catherine's small fists were clenched. "I told you that I don't wish to marry again — why won't you believe that?"
"Because I never imagined that you would be such a fool!" Catherine snapped. "Of all the nonsense I ever heard — of course you must marry him! Anne, I warn you now, that if you don't marry him, you'll —"
"Yes, I know that you think me a fool. But when I think of Kingston —"
"Delmere is not Kingston. I wish I were free, I promise you that I'd marry him quickly enough. Mother will be so upset when she hears."
"You're not to tell Mother, or Elaine, or Melly."
Catherine inhaled deeply. "I suppose I had better not. She'll spend weeks complaining to me, and to all the relatives — who, I need not remind you, are in constant expectation of a notice in The Times."
"There won't be any notice. Now, I must go. The carriage will be at the door in a moment. Catherine, I regret that I'm such a disappointment to you."
Catherine shook her head. "What foolishness is this? You're not a disappointment, you're just stubborn, that's all. Go to town. See Delmere. Write and tell me that you're betrothed. I insist on it."
Anne had to smile, even though her eyes had filled, and she sniffed.
Talverne had ridden over from The Oaks. His bags were loaded onto the servants' carriage, because he was to accompany her.
They'd said their final farewells, and now he lounged opposite her in the swaying carriage, his eyes half-closed. Three cuddled into his side; he'd thrown his arm over her. He was one of Three's heroes. Anne sighed. Three loved Delmere too.
"You should have remained at The Oaks," Anne said to Talverne, when the carriage had passed through the large iron gates at the end of Gostwicke Hall's driveway.
"M'mother," he said, by way of explanation.
Anne hid a smile. Lady Talverne was determined to see her son married. Talverne's engagement to Lady Burnley had ended acrimoniously months previously. Christobel was beautiful, rich, and spoiled. She'd outrun Talverne's purse. When he'd finally refused one of her whims, she'd ended the engagement — to Talverne's relief.
It had been obvious that Talverne and the young heiress were not suited. Everyone knew it. Everyone, that is, who wasn't Talverne's mother, Sophia.
Sophia wanted her son married. Quickly.
Catherine had told Anne that Sophia had invited four young ladies to stay at The Oaks in January. "I feel for him," Catherine said. "He's a sweet boy, not an unkind bone in his body, but he's no money to speak of. Linton gives him an allowance — it's not sufficient to marry on — so Sophia hopes for another heiress, of course."
No wonder Talverne had run away.
They were both running away, Anne reflected. "What will you do in town?" She asked, to deflect her thoughts from Delmere. "Very few people are in town at this time of the year."
"I'm staying at Linton House. I'll find plenty to do."
Lord Linton, Melly's husband, was Talverne's uncle. He'd been the young man's guardian, and still looked after Talverne's business affairs. From what Catherine had said, Anne knew that Linton was strict with his nephew. He wanted his inheritance on a firm footing before Talverne married.
"Of course, I may accompany Delmere to Italy."
"Italy?" The word came out as a squeak.
Talverne settled himself in the corner of the carriage, and pulled the carriage rug up to his chin. "Yes," he said. His eyes were closed. He yawned. "Delmere's off to Italy — won't return until summer's over. Something to do with a ship — or ships. He told me, but I can't remember the details."
Anne said nothing further.
Delmere was at Belton Devering. He'd bought the estate, and had come down from London for the day. He walked through the house with his man of business, who took down his lordship's instructions in a book.
Nick tried to stop himself thinking of Anne, but it was impossible. No matter how much he tried to push her out of his mind, she was there. He'd already decided that he would speak to her again.
He was making arrangements for the house's renovation while he was away — why, he didn't know, since the estate was so close to Gostwicke Hall, merely ten miles away, and he certainly couldn’t live her alone.
If he and Anne didn’t marry he would need to lease the house to someone. Anne had liked the house. He remembered her pleasure in the dining room and public rooms. And in the nursery, and the schoolroom. That had to mean something, did it not?
He saw her in every room. He'd
decided that he would tell her that Belton Devering would be ready for them on their marriage.
Would the house provide an inducement to marry him? He didn't know, but he was determined that he would find out.
"That's everything," he said at last, when he and his man had finished with their plans for the house, the remains of the garden, and the stables. "Now, the tenant cottages. What if we build three new cottages, as well as setting the five we have to rights? We'll need new workers for the harvest, if we plant all our fields in spring."
Anne and Talverne reached London late in the evening. Talverne left Anne at Linton House.
"I'll come to see you tomorrow," he told her, while Thomas unloaded his bags from the carriage. "We'll ride in the park."
Anne nodded. "Yes, if it's not too cold. Thank you for your company on the journey."
Linton's butler had thrown open the house's large doors. Two footmen came down the wide steps to pick up Talverne's bags.
Talverne had to stand close to the carriage so that she could hear what he'd said. Rumbling carriages passed them, taking people to their evening events. More people were in town than she had expected.
Three propped her forelegs onto the carriage window, and barked at Talverne. He stroked Three's head. "Don't be sad," he said softly to Anne.
Anne blinked at him.
"Something's happened between you and Delmere. I know it — he left in a rush. I'll speak to the man. He might say that he won't marry again, but that's a nonsense."
"Pierce, no."
But Talverne had already stepped away. Thomas was back on the box with the coachman, and the carriage drew away.
Anne waved, then settled back in her seat. She tucked Three onto her lap. Three licked her nose, forcing Anne to laugh at her antics.
A few minutes later, they arrived at Kingston House.
Mr. Weston opened the doors. "Ma'am," he bowed to her when she entered with Three at her heels.
The Lady And The Man Of Fortune_A Wicked Secret_The Eardleys Of Gostwicke Hall, Book 3 Page 15
