“What did she say about me?” David asked.
“She said…” He paused, leaning back and, this time, managing to open both eyes at the same time. “She thinks you have a conscience….” His words drifted off as he fell back asleep once more.
“She does? Miss Fairchild does?” he asked, shaking his drunken friend to rouse him. “What did the lady say, Nate?”
Nate raised his head and his eyes opened at an unusual pace—first one, then the other, then neither, then both. David knew from past experience that there would be suffering for his friend after this kind of overindulgence.
“You were speaking of my conscience,” David repeated.
“She only said that because…” He paused and looked around as if confirming that they were alone. In a lower voice, he continued, “Because she does not know that you are you.”
The next question came out before he could stop it. In spite of knowing it was not a good thing to press his luck, he asked, “Why did you not tell her the truth then?”
Nate sat up straight in the chair and for a moment, David thought that his drunkenness was all an act. Pulling back his shoulders and clearing his throat, Nate squinted and then stared at him with only one eye.
“It would break her heart, Trey, and that is something I will not do to her.”
A reply stuck in his throat and he recognized the true emotion behind Nate’s actions—he loved her. Well, that certainly explained several things and answered a few of his own questions.
“So, worry not, the earl’s secret is safe.”
Without warning, his friend fell onto the surface of the desk and began to snore. This time, David did nothing to awaken Nate, allowing him to sleep as he stepped away. He knew well the desire to protect the young woman in question. For, despite knowing all the reasons why he should not feel it, he shared the need to protect her.
It had begun during their outing to the Castle and continued to increase even today as he watched her reaction to learning of his assumed identity and the possible threats it posed to those people and causes she held dear. He could feel himself falling into the same trap as Nate—since the woman worried about everyone but herself, he worried over her.
He shuddered at the realization. David could not afford such an entanglement. He was here for a purpose and, once completed, he would return to his life and continue his work. He did not toy with innocents. He did not break hearts. If he’d learned nothing else from the debacle of his past, it was to avoid young, unattached women who carried unblemished reputations and eager eyes. Miss Anna Fairchild certainly fit that description.
David positioned his hat and opened the door of the office, resolved now to finish his quest and leave Edinburgh behind as planned. Closing the door quietly so as not to wake Nate, he made his way down the corridor, nodded at Mr. Lesher and left. As he climbed into his waiting carriage, he understood that caution must be exercised, for Miss Fairchild was an intelligent woman and would not miss careless mistakes made on his part upholding his false identity.
Chapter Ten
“Did he respond, Clarinda?”
“No. As you requested, I sent the invitation purposely late so that he would not have time to beg off.”
Anna turned in her seat and looked around the seating area of the Theatre Royal for any sign of Mr. Archer. The show would start at any moment and she did not see him. Of course, Clarinda’s box opened to the back and he could enter through there without walking up the aisle. She sat back and shook her head.
“Perhaps I did not plan this well after all?” she mumbled as a stirring began outside the curtained box.
“Did not plan what well, Miss Fairchild?”
She would recognize his voice even in the dark. Mr. Archer had accepted the invitation after all. He held the curtain back and entered the small enclosure with six seats. Anna glared at Clarinda and touched her handkerchief to her forehead with a great amount of dramatic exaggeration.
“To be inside the theater on such a heated evening, sir. I should have planned my wardrobe with more thought to the weather and the heat.”
A quick glance at Clarinda showed that her friend was going to laugh, so Anna lowered her handkerchief and turned back to Mr. Archer, who apparently had just noticed that he was the only male present there.
“I assume that Lord MacLerie and Nathaniel had other plans,” he said. “I cannot believe my good fortune then to be left in the company of three lovely women.”
Clarinda was familiar with the compliments of flirting men, as was Anna, who’d received her own share of them over the years. But Aunt Euphemia giggled much in the way Julia did when she was feeling silly. Peering across Clarinda, Anna wondered which of her relatives was teaching the other the trait.
Mr. Archer greeted each one individually, speaking kindly to her aunt and inquiring about her various complaints before thanking Lady MacLerie for inviting him to this evening’s entertainment. When he stood behind her, Anna found herself nervous with anticipation over what he would say.
It had been just over a week since she’d seen him last. The morning that had brought about the revelation of his identity also brought his absence from the city. Anna discovered that she had grown to expect his presence outside the house where she taught or in front of the Gazette’s office. And Julia spoke incessantly of their trip to the Castle.
Nathaniel informed her of his note about leaving to go north to one of Lord Treybourne’s family properties and, at the time, she thought it a superb idea and excellent timing. As was her custom, she used the first few days after receiving Lord Treybourne’s latest essay to sketch out her immediate reactions and initial thoughts on addressing his arguments. Then Anna planned several “occasions” when she would lead Mr. Archer to various places in Edinburgh where the unfortunates lived and struggled to survive. This evening’s invitation was not one of those, but would be the beginning of her plan.
Those activities had taken all of one day and then she waited. When she found herself staring out the window of the office, she stopped herself. When she discovered she stood, on the sidewalk outside the school, watching the street for some sign of that carriage he’d hired, she berated herself for such foolishness. When she maneuvered Clarinda into this invitation tonight, Anna acknowledged one unavoidable fact: despite his association with the dreaded Lord Treybourne, she found Mr. Archer exceedingly appealing. Now, as the houselights dimmed and the crowd focused its attention toward the stage, he chose the chair behind hers and sat down.
The first part of tonight’s entertainment consisted of a humorous skit about a local fishwife, and soon the entire audience shook with laughter over the woman’s antics. Mr. Archer’s deep rumbles of laughter from behind her caught her attention. Then, a few minutes later, it was his breath against her neck and ear that nearly sent her off the edge of her seat.
“I have heard rumors that Rob Roy is being produced for the stage, Miss Fairchild.”
A simple statement, a respectable piece of theater gossip considering that the story had been first published here, but the feel of his heated breath on her skin sent chills down her back and raised gooseflesh on her arms. Yet, in spite of the strange and somewhat forbidden feelings it engendered within her, she hoped he would whisper again.
He did.
“It is said that the author even now works on the play in his estate by the Borders.”
Again, an innocently whispered comment with devastating results. This time, when she pressed her handkerchief to her forehead, she really was perspiring and overheated. Yet, she did not move herself farther away from his tempting behavior. Clarinda tapped lightly on Anna’s hand with her fan, warning her that they were being noticed. The skit finished and, as the stage was being set up for the next performers, Mr. Archer stood.
“Would you ladies care for something chilled to drink?”
At their nod, he turned to leave and Anna decided she would give him assistance in his errand. “Clarinda, I will show Mr. Ar
cher the way.”
Since several of Clarinda’s acquaintances were heading up the aisle to their box and calling to her, Lady MacLerie was soon distracted. Aunt Euphemia was likewise engaged, so Anna followed Mr. Archer out into the corridor. The crush of people seeking refreshments carried them down the stairs to the place where the establishment sold cups of punch or lemonade as well as something stronger for the gentlemen.
He surprised her when, instead of waiting in the lines, he pulled a footman aside and whispered something to him. Anna noticed a few coins exchanging hands and knew what he’d done.
“If I might prevail upon you, Miss Fairchild? I feel the need to take a brief respite from this heat. Would you care to step outside for a moment?”
There were sufficient crowds around that she did not think this completely inappropriate. Indeed, many of those in attendance were heading out of doors during this brief intermission. They walked a few paces out the door and Mr. Archer led her to a small open space not far from the sidewalks. Then he stepped back and took a place at the edge of the shadows, one that obscured his face. Anna glanced around to see if they were being watched.
“Are you hiding, Mr. Archer?”
“You noticed, then?” His voice held amusement.
“Whatever for, sir? Are you not permitted an evening of leisure?” Anna laughed softly and looked around again. “No one seems to have taken an interest in your presence here.” He did not step out of the shadows. “Is Lord Treybourne such a hard taskmaster that he never permits you to seek entertainment on your own?”
“I simply do not wish to defend or uphold his latest position on his behalf, Miss Fairchild.”
“Ah, so you know that the furor still rages here over his words? There does seem to be something of a battle brewing.”
He reached out and used a single finger to lift her chin. The movement so surprised her that she stayed within his touch.
“You do not seem displeased by such a reaction. Do you think this will help Mr. Goodfellow’s arguments then?”
“I think,” she said, “that it will help bring attention to the issues. Lord Treybourne’s arrogance and unfeeling nature will demonstrate the shortcomings of his party’s beliefs and approach to the poor.”
He moved his hand so that his fingers slipped around her chin and the back of his hand caressed her cheek for a scant moment. “Do you never think of anything but the serious matters of society?” His smile was enigmatic for a second and then broader and more open. “Do you never have an evening of leisure for yourself?”
“We were speaking of Lord Treybourne’s demands on your time, Mr. Archer.” Anna pulled away then, afraid of how much she enjoyed his touch. Delicious shivers raced through her after only the slightest of caresses.
“Ah, so it is the mere mention of Lord Treybourne that sends you into this righteous anger? You give his lordship great power in your life.”
Anna wanted to argue and point out the many faults of the man that she—no—that Goodfellow battled, but the thought of that touch of his hand silenced her. She remembered back to the first time she saw him in Nathaniel’s office and realized that her first impression was true—he was the devil incarnate tempting her with the worldly things she’d ignored and never thought to have in her life.
He reached up once more, but this time he simply replaced a curl that had fallen in her face. Did he know the power he had right now? If Anna were some innocent just out of the schoolroom, she might be lured into something quite dangerous with this man, his connection to Lord Treybourne be damned!
“You gasped. Are you well, Miss Fairchild?”
Her lack of control brought him closer now and Anna found herself tugged a step or two into those shadows where he stood. Now next to her, she had to tilt her head back to look at his face. Another mistake, for he leaned his head down and for a moment, a very long moment, she thought he might try to kiss her.
She thought.
She hoped.
She prayed.
She repented and tried to clear her mind of whatever bewitching spell he was placing on her better judgment. It didn’t work, for she found herself watching his lips as he spoke to her.
“If you are to swoon, Miss Fairchild, let it be over something pleasant like this and not over that boring old Lord Treybourne.”
She began to laugh, but his kiss covered the sound of it. He touched his lips to hers softly at first and then with a bit more persistence. Only his mouth greeted hers, and when she started to ask him about his insult, he took advantage of her distraction to slip his tongue inside. He tasted of something minty and something else unknown to her. Then, as quickly as it had begun, Mr. Archer stepped away and took a breath.
She could not breathe, it was as simple as that. He had mentioned swooning and although never having done it before in her life, no matter the circumstances, Anna felt ready to now. Even worse, she could form no words to speak after the experience. She was fully aware that his behavior had been too forward and that she should reprimand him and warn him of the consequences of another attempt. The problem was that in her heart of hearts she would welcome his mouth on hers again.
And again.
The world around her that had faded away at his first touch and disappeared during his kiss now intruded. The movement of those who’d sought a cooler respite outside between performances and were now moving back inside drew their attention. Mr. Archer held out his arm to her and it was a trembling hand she placed there. If he had said something then, something amusing or irritating, she could have found a voice, but instead he led her back into the theatre, up the stairs and to the back of Clarinda’s box without a word.
The footman he’d spoken to near the line to buy refreshments stood there and nodded as they approached. In his hands he held a tray of five glasses of lemonade, which Mr. Archer lifted and carried in as the footman now held the curtain back. Anna was left to follow.
“Ah, Mr. Archer! I was beginning to despair of something to drink.” Aunt Euphemia smiled at him and looked past to Anna. Her eyes narrowed and Anna wondered if everyone would see some mark on her that exposed their scandalous moment outside. “Anna, help Mr. Archer with those glasses, if you please.”
Mr. Archer stepped into the back row of seats and allowed Anna to move past him to hand both her aunt and Clarinda a glass. The audience had quieted and the second performance was about to begin.
“Anna, pray be seated!” Aunt Euphemia whispered loudly.
With no alternative, Anna sat in the chair behind Clarinda and Mr. Archer took the last seat next to her. Her cheeks felt heated now more than before and Anna touched them to see if it was an illusion. How did she proceed now?
The musical introduction to the “drama in two acts” began and Anna sipped at her lemonade. Downing it in two mouthfuls, it proved no success in helping her to cool from the heat and from the kiss that had occurred. Tempted now to press the empty glass to her forehead and cheeks to use its chill to ease the heat in her skin, she could not, for Mr. Archer lifted it from her grasp and placed the other filled one there.
“You appear to need this more than I, Miss Fairchild.”
She glanced at him and noticed that he, too, had finished his drink. For the first time since it happened, Anna allowed herself to meet his gaze and found some evidence that he had been just as affected by that kiss as she.
“My thanks, sir. You have, it seems, thought of everything this evening.”
Not everything he wanted to reply to her. Instead, he took her now-empty second glass and placed it with his on the tray held next to him by the footman. Once he’d gone and the curtain fell back into place, David tried to determine what the devil had made him be so forward with Miss Fairchild.
Try as he might, he could not fathom the reasons for breaking from all of his plans and indulging in a familiarity with this young woman. That was not being honest with himself, for one look at that face and those lips now swollen from only one kiss and there was no
doubt that, given the opportunity, he would attempt to repeat the sin again.
He was not an untried lad when it came to women and the pleasurable arts, but the innocent kiss allowed him by Miss Fairchild moved him far more than he’d like to admit. She tempted him to ignore some of the promises he kept to himself and others in a way that no other woman had.
“I do try, Miss Fairchild,” he whispered.
David leaned against the back of the chair and watched her profile as she watched the actors on stage. He had indeed made arrangements with the footman to meet them here with the beverages so that he could escape with her for a few moments. The kiss, well, the kiss had happened all on its own.
She turned to him, their eyes meeting for only an instant, but the emotions he saw there overwhelmed him. She broke the encounter and glanced back at the stage. Surely, this could not have been her first kiss? Surely not. However, the innocence he tasted suggested it could be.
How had this woman escaped marriage? Quite the bluestocking, it was true, but she used that intelligence to help others. And she was caring and thoughtful. And protective of those she loved. And graceful and…
This was going in a direction he could not follow, but David refused to think about simply leaving Edinburgh and not seeing her again. He’d tried that. Spending the week fishing and shooting with Ellerton and Hillgrove held little appeal once he arrived at the Dursby hunting box. He saw her everywhere he looked and she even invaded his dreams. The kiss he’d just shared with her paled in comparison with those they shared in the dark of night when Miss Fairchild haunted his sleep.
He could call her Anna there. He did not have to be polite and reserved toward her in his dreams and she screamed out his name, not his title, when he made love to her thoroughly, showing her the passion she had yet to discover. He shifted in his seat as his body reacted again to his thoughts and desires about her.
“Pardon me, Mr. Archer. Did you say something?” she whispered now. Not his name as he’d like, but he must have spoken without realizing it.
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