Her heart beat hard and steady in her chest, while tense discomfort swelled within her. She approached the door and heard voices within. Tentatively, she put her ear to the door.
“I understand that you have been spreading gossip about my future wife, Juliana.”
“Oh come, darling. You know she is a lightskirt in commoners’ clothing. You have said as much, yourself.”
Anna clenched her jaw.
“She is soon to be Lady Boxton,” Anthony reminded her. “She should not have so many rumours floating about; it may have an adverse affect on my own reputation.”
Lady Juliana sniffed indelicately. “Be that as it may, she deserves a little humiliation before you take her for your own. She will have you, after all, and I must stand to the side.”
“Come now, Juliana,” Lord Boxton’s voice held censure. “You know that I cannot marry you. I do not want your scandalous reputation to mar my good name and ruin my chances at inheriting my grandfather’s estate in Bath.” There was silence for a moment. “I will continue to see you after I am married; you know how marriages of convenience work. You are open to some very pleasurable acts that not many women will submit to, and are therefore worthy of my attention. You may not be wifely material for a man as distinguished as I, but you will do nicely as a mistress.”
There was another pause. “Speaking of entertainment,” Juliana purred. “Why do we not think of something more pleasant than your promiscuous wife-to-be, and amuse ourselves with something much more fulfilling?”
“I do wish that your father hadn’t such strict guard on you at your home,” Lord Boxton murmured. “Trysts in such daring locals could one day find us caught.”
Lady Juliana moaned. “Oh, darling, but the danger makes it so much more exciting!”
The unmistakable sound of slurping lips came from the other side of the door, and Anna cringed. It is time.
She quickly retreated down the corridor, noting the room’s precise location before descending the first staircase. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a reflection glass hanging in the hall, and she stopped to gaze at her reflection. Too pink. She reached into her reticule and withdrew some white powder and smeared it over her cheeks and under the edges of her mask, giving her a sickly appearance. Perfect.
She then withdrew a leaflet of parchment and a small piece of drawing charcoal and quickly jotted the directions to the occupied room. She folded the paper and tucked it in her sleeve. She returned the items to her reticule, clapped her hands together, and adjusted her gown before entering the resplendent ballroom.
Conflicting emotions ran rampant through her as she strolled among the crush. She had always been poor at playing charades, but tonight she would have to surpass every performance she had ever made. It was the performance of her life, for her life.
Charles still stood next to the refreshment table. She caught his gaze and winked one eye at him. He responded with a barely perceptible nod, then stalked through the crowd toward Lady Freeman, the greatest rumourmonger that ever was.
Anna continued to run her gaze through the crowd searching for a glimpse of Lane. Finally, she spotted him across the room watching her through the slits in his domino. Anna withdrew a fan from her reticule and fanned herself with a wink and a smile. Lane nodded.
Apprehension wove its way through her, her stomach lurching. Calm down, baby. She could do this.
Anna navigated the milling crush of guests, through puce, emerald, pink, peach, and the occasional virginal white, until she had maneuvered herself into the group of eager listeners standing around Lady Freeman. She felt a tap on her right hip, and then on her left, confirming that Lane and Charles were behind her. She slipped the parchment from her sleeve and held it behind her back. It was instantly taken.
“Do you think that she confirmed it? No! She vehemently denied ever having gone near it, even though I saw it with my own eyes.” Chuckles, chortles, and titters moved through the moderately sized group around Lady Freeman; confirming that she was a woman with many years of practice in storytelling.
She always kept her listeners enthralled. She was a tetchy woman, when things did not go as she wished them to, and an easily excitable woman when she came across a new bit of diverting gossip. As Lady Freeman was a spinster in her late fifties, Anna could not wholly blame her for finding her entertainment in the misfortune of others. It was cruel, but Anna empathized with her probable loneliness.
The woman wore only the latest styles; this evening she wore an abundance of gilt and plum, including a purple turban with gilt rope wound around it with hanging tassels that jiggled with each movement. Her mask was an ostentatiously large and over-adorned piece that sat upon a long, painted stick, which she used to hold the mask to her face.
Anna waited until Lady Freeman’s tale had come to a sensational highpoint, then readied herself for her performance.
The rumble of laughter and several gasps rose above the din, and Anna let out a cry of distress. She placed the back of her hand to her forehead and collapsed in a feigned faint. Anna put her trust in Charles and Lane, and was relieved when they caught her. A ripple of distress went through the crowd as they saw what happened.
Lane’s voice above her was loud and carrying. “This woman has fainted! We need to get her to a private room!”
“My! How pale she looks!” Lady Freeman’s voice grew closer.
Anna resisted the urge to open her eyes.
“Lady Freeman, would you do us the great honour of accompanying us as a chaperone as we bring this lady to a guest chamber upstairs?” Anna heard Charles say.
“I would be pleased to help.” Lady Freeman sounded so elated to be included in their drama that Anna fought not to smile.
“Please excuse us, we must bring this woman upstairs.” Charles’ voice cut through the din of voices around them.
They began to move, her brother and love jarring her with their effort. The din of music and conversation faded, and Anna surmised that they were close to the staircase.
“Oh, dear! Is there any way that I might be of assistance?” Anna recognized the voice as Lady Scarsdale.
Lane and Charles shifted their hold on Anna, one on either side of her. Lady Scarsdale was the perfect addition to their plan!
“Yes, please,” Lane replied. “I believe that a cool, damp cloth will do this woman a great deal of good.”
“I will have it brought up directly.” Lady Scarsdale retreated, calling orders to her footmen.
They continued up the staircase. Anna swallowed past the saliva gathering in her throat. She had not considered the possibility that the motion might make her ill. It was not the most challenging part of their plan, however. Keeping her expression blank and her eyes closed had turned out to be exceptionally difficult.
Lane shifted his arms under Anna as they topped the second flight of stairs. Lady Freeman followed, gleefully fussing about Anna’s state.
Lane must be nearly ready to burst with some cutting remark or another, and Anna dearly wished she could laugh. But she kept her expression carefully blank, steadfastly dedicated in her role.
Chapter 32
They needed Lady Freeman’s expertise in order to carry out this plan, so Lane bit his tongue to hold back the rude remark that threatened to escape. He could not abide gossip-mongering ladies.
Gratefully, Charles spoke before Lane could. “I believe that a cool cloth, a glass of punch, and a quiet place to sit will be just the thing, Lady Freeman. Ah,” he notched his chin toward the door to which Anna had directed them, “here is a guest bedchamber. Would you be so kind, my lady, as to open the door for us?”
“Of course, young man.” She moved quickly, pressing down the latch and letting the door swing wide…to reveal the most lewd scene that Lane had ever witnessed.
Lady Freeman let out a startled gasp but seemed distinctly pleased to have come across some choice fodder for fresh gossip.
Lady J
uliana, who was presently tied to the four-posted bed—her legs tied high so they were lifted in the air—and gagged with what appeared to be Lord Boxton’s black cravat, let out a muffled scream. The viscount, however, did not seem startled, but livid. He stood entirely nude on the bed, looming over Lady Juliana, a shining black hessian in his raised hand, and his surprisingly small cock aimed and at the ready.
Lady Juliana had welts and cuts all over her person; as though Lord Boxton had been whipping her with articles of his clothing and items about the room, in what Lane could only assume was some sort of erotic pleasure game. The sight was disgusting. If inflicting pain was what Lord Boxton enjoyed in, and out, of the bedchamber, Lane was exceedingly glad that Anna would not be marrying the devil.
They were all silent as they absorbed the scene, Lane and Charles still holding the “unconscious” Annabel in their arms.
“I have a cool compress for the young miss—Oh!” Lady Scarsdale, accompanied by her husband and several servants, stopped to gawk through the open doorway.
“Good Lord in heaven!” Lord Scarsdale’s outraged cry sounded beside Lane. “My great aunt Gertrude’s lavender counterpane!”
“Oh, my!” gasped Lady Scarsdale. “Is that Lord Boxton and Lady Juliana?”
Lord Boxton dropped his boot, balled his hands into fists, then let out a deep, barbaric growl. “Get the hell out! Now!”
“Er…perhaps another room would be better for this lady’s recovery.” This could get out of hand rather quickly, and it would be best for them to make themselves scarce before it did.
The others agreed and strode quickly to the room across the hall. Lane and Charles placed Anna gently on the bed, then put the cloth on her forehead, leaving her mask firmly in place.
The sight of Anna reclined on the bed stirred Lane’s blood. He briefly wished that he and Anna were alone in the room, but he would get that chance later. And hopefully for the rest of their lives. He smiled to himself as he administered the smelling salts that Lady Scarsdale held out to him.
Anna roused convincingly, seemingly dazed and out of sorts. Lane admired her theatrical skills, pride swelling in his chest.
“Goodness,” she breathed. “What happened?”
“My dear, much has happened!” Lady Freeman put in jubilantly, her hands clasped before her in barely suppressed excitement. “It all began when you fainted. But we have some punch for you, dearie.”
“Thank you.” Anna sat up, removing the cloth, and accepted the punch gracefully. “It must have been the warmth of the room.”
“Yes, dearie, it must have been.” Lady Freeman looked impatiently about the room. “It seems that you all have this in hand, so if you would not mind, I will return to the ballroom and leave you to recover.”
Lane stifled a laugh as Lady Freeman’s lips twitched impatiently. She was obviously doing her utmost to refrain from squealing with delight, positively bursting with the need to tell someone what she had seen moments ago across the hall. All according to plan.
“Of course, my lady. We thank you for your kind assistance.” Charles and Lane bowed to her as she left the room.
“If there is anything else that you require, please do not hesitate to ask. We will leave you in the care of our staff.” Lord Scarsdale motioned for his wife to accompany him. “We have some distasteful business to attend to. We wish you a good evening.”
“Good evening,” the three of them said in unison.
Anna sat forward in the bed. “Thank you for your aid, Lord and Lady Scarsdale.” She took a sip of punch. “The ballroom’s décor is beyond breathtaking.”
Relief swept Lane as Lord and Lady Scarsdale took their leave, the lady distressing over her aunt’s counterpane and waving her hands agitatedly. Their plan had worked thus far; it was simply a matter of time before it played out to its completion.
Anna used the damp cloth to clean the white powder from her face, revealing her beautiful, radiant skin with every wipe.
They let several minutes pass before Charles suggested that they return to the ball, to which Lane and Anna heartily agreed. They thanked the servants and left the room.
Harsh shouts and shrill screeches emanated from within the room across the hall. It would seem that Lord and Lady Scarsdale had informed Lady Juliana’s parents of her indiscretion, and they were now having it out with Lord Boxton.
“Goodness.” Anna held a hand to her chest as shocking language came from the other side of the door.
“Avert your ears, dear sister,” Charles susurrated. “There are some things that no lady should hear.”
They descended the stairs and entered the ballroom.
“Lady Freeman has been busy,” Lane noted, as an excited hum of gossip resonated through the room, Lord Boxton and Lady Juliana’s affaire on everyone’s tongue.
“Indeed. The orchestra has stopped playing, as no one is dancing.” Anna gazed up at Charles and Lane through her domino. “The plan is working.”
“Why do we not take our leave?” Charles said in a low voice. “We have completed our task this evening, and I, for one, have seen much more than I cared to.” He touched Anna’s elbow and led them through the throng toward the exit.
“I concur.” Lane kept pace with them. “When we formulated this plan, I had not thought we would see such a bawdy and vulgar display.” A shudder wracked him. “Disgusting. You are fortunate, Anna, that you did not witness it.”
An incensed shadow crossed Charles’ features. Lane suspected that he knew what Charles had been thinking, but thankfully, what Charles believed was not, in fact, true. As Lane had been the one to take Anna’s maidenhead, the violence that Charles likely imagined had not taken place. Anna had lost her innocence in a magical moment that continued to take Lane’s breath away.
“Good evening, dear brother.” Lane started at Bridget’s voice as she stepped from down the corridor, blocking their path.
“What in the blazes are you doing here?” Lane growled as they halted.
Bridget strode silently forward. “This evening has proven rather more interesting than I had first anticipated.” She ignored his pointed question and gazed critically at him through her shimmering silver mask. “I have a feeling that you are behind it.”
Charles interjected before Lane could respond. “Whether this may or may not have been caused by us is none of your concern. Please step aside, we wish to leave.”
Anna gasped. “Charles! Why in heaven’s name are you being so rude?” She linked her arm through Bridget’s. “I apologize for my brother’s boorish behaviour.” Bridget nodded but appeared markedly hurt. “Why do you not accompany us home?” Anna offered. “We will be happy to discuss it with you there.”
“I do not think that is a wise idea.” Charles stood stiffly in front of them.
Bridget quietly cleared her throat. “Major Bradley is correct. I do not believe that it would be a judicious decision. Besides, it is clear to me that I am unwelcome.”
“Balderdash.” Anna frowned at Charles. “Do not listen to what he says.”
“Anna…” Charles said through gritted teeth.
She released Bridget and stepped toward Charles, her shoulders squared. “You helped me a great deal this evening, and I thank you for it. But I will not stand by and allow you to verbally abuse a wonderful woman who used to be your closest friend. I do not know what occurred between the two of you, and I shall not pry, but you shan’t cut her out of my life as you have yours.” She linked her arm through Bridget’s. “You are welcome to join us in the family barouche, or you may find your own way home; the choice is yours. Good evening.”
She turned with Bridget and returned to Lane’s side, before they strode out of the corridor and into the foyer. Lane had to admire her strength. She was a remarkable woman.
“Anna!” Charles marched after them. “Anna, you will not speak to me in such a way.”
“I believe that I just did, brother.” They co
ntinued to walk through the foyer.
“As your older brother, and the acting male authority in this situation, I demand that you treat me with respect.”
Anna noticeably seethed. “I will respect you, dear brother, when you have earned my respect. Your treatment of Bridget was unwarranted. I simply stated how it was perceived and indicated that I would not stand for it. You have made the cruel decision to alter your personality for the worse. I will not have it in my presence.”
Lane was fascinated by their family dynamic. Anna was a fearsome woman. Judging, however, from Charles’ glinting eyes, he was capable of far more than he displayed. Lane would hate to discover what the man would do should he uncover the truth—that Lane had fathered Anna’s child.
Chapter 33
The ride to the Bradley household was silent and tense. Charles chose to ride a borrowed horse, much to Anna’s consternation. She was dumbfounded by his discourtesy. Before he had gone to war, Charles was a kind, gentle, loving man, but he had returned cold, distant, and quick to anger. There were moments, of course, in which she saw the old Charles shine through, but the majority of the time it was a thin veneer of congeniality over poorly banked fury.
They rounded a corner, and her stomach turned. Anna abruptly wished that she had eaten something from the refreshment table. She quickly removed her domino and took a deep breath.
“Are you feeling well, Anna? You appear pale of a sudden.” Lane leaned forward to squint at her pallid complexion.
Anna could not do more than hold up her hand in response and turn to look out the window. It was dark, but it helped slightly.
Slowly, the barouche came to a stop, and Lane leapt out, handing first Bridget down, then Anna. Warmth spread through her as he held her hand longer than propriety dictated. Her stomach lurched.
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Are you well?”
She took a deep breath of the blessedly cool night air. “I shall be, once I eat something.”
Love's Misadventure (The Mason Siblings Series Book 1) Page 21
