“If I have embarrassed you,” Lady Stratford said, “I am sorry.”
Anna shook her head.
“Tell me then, is anyone else in his heart?”
Anna had the awful impulse to say yes. But it would be a lie, and what right did she have to try to deny this woman or Lord Wareton happiness? On the surface at least, they seemed well suited to each other. Both were handsome, elegant people of high rank and aristocratic backgrounds. What right did she have to be jealous?
“He does not seem to be a man who would let his heart go easily,” Anna said. If he even had one to give. His behavior this evening made her wonder.
Lady Stratford’s smile widened. “Thank you, Miss Colbrook. You have helped me immensely. I must admit that when I first saw you and Lord Wareton dancing together, I thought...” She smiled. “Well, you have reassured me.”
Next to Lady Stratford’s radiant beauty and elegant clothing, Anna suddenly felt plain. Then just as quickly, she felt angry. Why did Lord Wareton affect her so? She was nothing to him, he had said as much.
“I look forward to us becoming better acquainted,” Lady Stratford added, glancing across the room. “We may be in each other’s company quite often in the future.”
Anna followed Lady Stratford’s gaze to where Lord Wareton had just stepped into the ballroom. He stood with his hands behind his back, his face somber as he spoke with the Duke of Dulverton. The duke was widely considered a handsome man, with his blond hair and slim build, but Anna thought he looked quite plain beside Lord Wareton.
“I look forward to it as well,” Anna murmured, forcing her gaze away from Lord Wareton.
Lady Stratford glanced at Lord Wareton and back to Anna, then raised one elegant eyebrow, a slight frown on her face.
8
Six days later Anna sat on a hillside at Sir Neville’s estate. She traced the patterns on the blanket beneath her with one finger, admiring the flawlessly stitched wreaths of wildflowers. The grass all around was thick with nearly identical blossoms of blue and yellow.
“No doubt Sir Neville ordered that made to match this particular hillside,” Lady Stratford said, watching her. “After knowing him only a short time, I can see he spares no expense in anything he does.”
Several large picnic baskets and rumpled, empty blankets surrounded the two women. Below, where the hill flattened into a broad field, a dozen people were scattered about, most moving toward the glittering river at the far side of the meadow.
Anna looked past the servants who stood chatting at the base of the hill, to the front of the party. Mrs. Shelby was half-hidden by her large parasol as she walked between Lady Carlton and Mrs. Dunbury. Ahead of them, Agnes and Angeline Dunbury strolled with Lord Wareton, one on each side. Both young women tripped increasingly often as they crossed the field, forcing him to catch them.
“The Dunbury sisters are quite shameless,” Lady Stratford said. “Not that I blame them. He is likely the most interesting gentleman these parts have seen in a long time. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Colbrook?” She smiled at Anna, her expression casual, but after spending time with Lady Stratford over the past several days, Anna had concluded that she never asked a question without a definite purpose.
“Lord Wareton is quite a catch,” Anna said evenly. She leaned over a basket and drew out an apple. As she began to polish it against her white muslin skirt she looked back to the field, where at the back of the parade, Madeline and Cecelia walked slowly with Sir Neville between them.
“Of course, Sir Neville might be considered a great catch as well,” Lady Stratford said. “What he lacks in noble background one might argue is made up for by his heroism. And he is obviously rich enough to marry as he pleases. Is it true he was granted this estate and fifty thousand pounds for rescuing those nobles from robbers?”
“I am not certain of the exact amount,” Anna said, “but the prince himself declared it enough so Sir Neville need never worry about money again.”
“The income from his estate must be quite large,” Lady Stratford said. “Yet even though he is out of mourning, the young ladies seem to leave him alone. Why is that?”
“I could not say.” Lady Stratford had almost certainly heard the speculation about her and Sir Neville, but Anna wasn’t about to share such personal matters with her.
“I understand Sir Neville had a ward,” Lady Stratford said, “a young lady who went to Scotland just before his wife died.”
Anna paused, about to bite into the apple. “Yes, Miss Julia Howe. Sir Neville sent her away to save her the pain of his wife’s final days.”
“Indeed? Yet I hear she never returned to Somerset, not even for the funeral.”
Anna frowned. “Sir Neville said Julia was too grief-stricken, that she wished to remain with family in Scotland.” What was Lady Stratford up to? Anna bit into the apple, savoring its crispness.
“I heard something quite different during my time in Kent.” Lady Stratford leaned closer to Anna and lowered her voice. “I heard a rumor that the young lady had been sent away to conceal her condition.”
Anna choked on a bite of apple. She finally swallowed, the fruit scratching her throat. She reached for her napkin.
“Of course, rumors are often incorrect.” Lady Stratford smiled. “And I see from your reaction that you’ve not heard the same talk?”
“No.” Anna dabbed at her chin, sticky with apple juice thanks to Lady Stratford’s shocking revelation. “There has never been a hint of scandal associated with Sir Neville’s family.” Could there be any truth to what Lady Stratford said? Anna doubted it, but even if so, it was none of her affair. Yet how awful for Sir Neville, if it were true, to have two tragedies strike so close together.
“Well…” Lady Stratford leaned back. “Perhaps the young ladies ignore the heroic and handsome Sir Neville because they know his interest is already captured?” Lady Stratford twirled a gold and onyx locket between her fingers. The necklace complemented her black and white crepe gown, sensationally patterned in stripes that varied in size and direction to accentuate her figure.
Anna smiled. “Perhaps.”
Down the hillside, Madeline and Miss Cecelia moved forward to speak with the Dunbury sisters, and Lord Wareton slowed, allowing Sir Neville to catch up with him. The two men began talking, but it was soon clear that the conversation was unpleasant. Lord Wareton crossed his arms as he walked and even from this distance, Anna could tell that he was angry. Sir Neville gestured with his free hand, speaking emphatically about something Lord Wareton obviously didn’t enjoy hearing.
Could Sir Neville be warning Lord Wareton about taking advantage of her?
If Lord Wareton were seriously interested in pursuing her, Sir Neville would be wise to be concerned. She barely trusted herself were Lord Wareton to embrace her again as he had at the ball. Even now, she shivered at the thought of kissing him. She’d been unable to stop reliving the heady shock of their kiss and her disappointment when he quickly dismissed what happened.
But Sir Neville need not worry. She wasn’t likely in any danger from Lord Wareton. Not only did he immediately regret kissing her, he’d barely glanced at her since the ball. He seemed to have quite forgotten all about his foolish impulse. She wished she could forget it so easily.
“Why do Lord Wareton and Sir Neville dislike each other?” Lady Stratford asked, startling Anna from her thoughts.
“I could not say. Perhaps you should ask Lord Wareton?”
Lady Stratford smiled. “I would never be so blunt.”
Anna laughed. Lady Stratford was sly and often unnerving, but at the same time, it was difficult not to be affected by her charm. Anna understood why Lord Wareton liked her. Even so, Anna watched them together, and despite his clear admiration for Lady Stratford, he didn’t seem captivated. He was charming and attentive, but he didn’t stare into her eyes or touch her, despite the fact that she was constantly touching him.
“I hope you will forgive a personal question, Miss Colbrook.” Lady Stratford d
ropped her locket and sat straighter. “You and Sir Neville appear to be good friends. Have you never considered him for yourself?”
“Surely Sir Neville’s position makes any such hopes foolish,” Anna said. “He can do far better than a wife whose father was in trade.”
“Perhaps, but he can apparently also afford to marry as he pleases. And his birth is not so far above yours. He has relatives in trade on his mother’s side, does he not?”
“Yes. But his achievements have elevated him far beyond his birth.”
“I was not born to wealth,” Lady Stratford said after a moment. “My family was so poor that I was told I should be fortunate to marry a rich farmer, told so even by ladies whose backgrounds were no better than mine except that chance had brought their fathers a few hundred more pounds a year.” Lady Stratford looked toward the field. “People like Lady Carlton, to whom rank and wealth determine a person’s value.” She paused, her eyes glittering. “I have proven them wrong.”
“You are a remarkable woman,” Anna said. She meant it. She had little doubt if Lord Wareton didn’t already view Lady Stratford as a potential wife, Lady Stratford would do her best to convince him of it. She had a hunger in her eyes that made it clear she wasn’t content to remain a mere baroness.
“We have much in common,” Lady Stratford said, turning back to Anna. “You know what it is to be treated as inferior to those around you, yet if you wished to, you could marry quite well.”
“I do not have your noble bloodline. And my father was not a gentleman.”
Lady Stratford flipped open the nearest picnic basket and reached into it, searching for something. “Tell me, Miss Colbrook,” she said, keeping her gaze on Anna, “if you could have any man in the world, from king to fisherman, who would you have?”
Anna forced herself not to glance down the hill at Lord Wareton. For some reason it mattered intensely that Lady Stratford not know about her foolish attraction to him. Not that it would change anything if she did know. It was only senseless pride.
“No one I know now,” Anna said. As she spoke, there was a shout from below which she immediately recognized as Lord Wareton’s voice, followed by peals of feminine laughter. Anna fought to keep her gaze focused on Lady Stratford, realizing her mistake too late. Lady Stratford also resisted the natural impulse to look toward the noise, staring back at Anna, her arm suddenly still in the basket.
“Finally, I knew I should find it eventually.” Lady Stratford drew out a smaller basket. She removed the woven lid and held it out to Anna.
“I am guessing you also like peppermint biscuits,” Lady Stratford said softly, smiling. Anna nodded, reaching out to accept the biscuits. “Another thing we have in common.”
A short time later Anna watched the rest of the party return from their walk. The Dunbury sisters plodded up the hill together, their shoulders slumped, glancing at each other with sour faces. The hems of their walking dresses were smudged with dirt from all their stumbling. Behind them, Lady Carlton jabbered at Mrs. Dunbury and Mrs. Shelby while Cecelia and Madeline strolled shoulder to shoulder, their bonnets touching as they whispered to each other. Lord Wareton and Sir Neville walked far behind the others, both looking displeased.
“It is your fault, for hanging on him so much he could not bear to walk back with us,” Angeline whispered loudly as they neared Anna and Lady Stratford.
“It was not I who kept falling on him,” Agnes said. “You have no doubt bruised him so badly he will never wish to see either of us again.”
“Bruised him!” Angeline said. “I did not—”
“Hush!” Agnes grabbed her sister’s arm and smiled at Anna and Lady Stratford.
“I trust your walk was a success, Miss Dunbury?” Lady Stratford asked as the sisters sat on a green blanket some distance from hers.
“A success?” Agnes smoothed the ribbons of her pink bonnet. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I meant you successfully found the river, of course.” Lady Stratford smiled. “You seemed to have difficulty crossing the meadow. You and Miss Angeline both.”
Anna stifled a laugh as Angeline and Agnes scowled, and Lady Stratford smiled sweetly.
Madeline stopped at the edge of Anna’s blanket, twirling her lilac and ivory striped parasol. “Anna, will you come for a stroll? That walk was not nearly long enough to suit me.” Madeline widened her eyes. She had some gossip to share, something about the Dunburys’ behavior during the walk, no doubt. Madeline wasn’t one to wait and tell her anything later if she didn’t have to.
Anna nodded and stood. The sky was clouding up, but they should have enough time for a quick walk.
They strolled down the hillside in silence. They waved to a scowling Sir Neville and stone-faced Lord Wareton as the men passed some distance from them. Once they were far enough away to not be overheard, Madeline spoke in a rush.
“Can you believe how brazen Angeline and Agnes are?” Madeline said. “As if Lord Wareton could be in any doubt now of their desperation. You were wise to remain behind.” Madeline lowered her voice. “Did you see Sir Neville and Lord Wareton glaring at each other? Why do you think they dislike each other? Do you think Lord Wareton disapproves of Sir Neville’s regard for you?”
Anna laughed. “I have no doubt Lord Wareton would be ecstatic if I were to marry Sir Neville.”
“Then why...?” Madeline frowned. “Why do you say it like that? Tell me what is going on.”
They turned onto the path that followed the river, and strolled toward an enormous willow hanging partially over the flowing water.
“You have been behaving strangely ever since the ball.” Madeline stopped suddenly. “Did Sir Neville propose?”
“No.” Anna shook her head and began walking again, faster than before. Madeline hurried to keep up.
“I have no doubt that he will,” Madeline said, apparently misreading the look of anxiety on Anna’s face for disappointment. “If you would only give him a hint that his offer will be welcome.”
The breeze grew stronger, and Anna tugged her shawl tighter around her shoulders.
Madeline pulled her parasol closer to block the wind. “I have half a mind to tell Sir Neville myself—”
“No, please. Do not say anything to him.” Anna glanced at the clouds. They were thicker than before and deep gray. “Perhaps we should turn back. It looks about to...” A raindrop hit Anna’s bonnet, followed quickly by two more. “Rain.”
The drops, thick and slow at first, rapidly grew steadier. The only shelter nearby was the willow.
“Under the tree,” Anna said, taking Madeline’s arm. “Perhaps it will pass quickly.”
As they hurried beneath the willow, the rain increased, beating on the branches around them until drops began to pelt them through the canopy of leaves.
“We shall be wet through if we return now,” Madeline said above the rain. She crouched close to Anna, trying to share the parasol with her, but it was barely large enough to keep Madeline’s head and shoulders dry. Madeline started to shiver.
“Let us run back to the carriages,” Anna said. “You will catch cold.”
Madeline shook her head. “You will get soaked.” A moment later she sneezed.
“You go back alone then,” Anna said. “You can stay somewhat dry with the parasol. I shall wait and see if it lets up.”
Madeline sneezed again and nodded.
“Take my shawl.” Anna wrapped the thin blue muslin around Madeline’s shoulders and tied it in the front.
“I shall send someone back with a blanket for you,” Madeline said as she ducked beneath the branches.
Anna peered through the boughs of the willow, watching Madeline hurry up the hillside, her parasol clamped to her shoulder to deflect the rain. Rain trickled through Anna’s bonnet and plastered her sleeves to her arms.
Most of the party had taken refuge in the carriages. Only Lord Wareton, Sir Neville, and the footmen remained outside. Lord Wareton spotted Madeline hurrying up the slop
e, and he gestured to one of the footmen. The servant disappeared around the coach and quickly returned with a blanket.
Lord Wareton snatched it up and hurried to meet Madeline. He draped the blanket around her and escorted her to the carriage. As he helped her into the coach, she hesitated and gestured toward the hillside. Another blanket was handed out to Lord Wareton, but when he turned to start down the hill, Sir Neville stopped him.
Even through the gray film of rain, Anna could tell that Sir Neville wanted to bring her the blanket. There was a brief argument before Sir Neville seemed to concede. Of course, it would take him far longer to reach her. He couldn’t run like Lord Wareton.
Lord Wareton drew his coat tighter around himself, secured his hat, and hurried down the hill. Behind him, Sir Neville disappeared into his own carriage.
Anna moved back to stand by the trunk. She caught occasional glimpses of Lord Wareton through the drooping branches as he neared.
After a moment he ducked beneath the willow, his hat striking leaves and showering water on him. He straightened and stepped towards her, his gaze falling on her body. He stopped suddenly and nearly dropped the blanket, catching it just before it hit the damp ground.
As he straightened, his gaze faltered on her chest. She was suddenly aware of how drenched her clothes were and how tightly her bodice clung to her. He slowly held out the quilt and met her stare.
In the instant before he looked away, she saw it in his eyes.
He wanted her.
She took the blanket from his outstretched hands and drew it around her shoulders, shivering less from the cold than from pleasure at the fire in his eyes. He wasn’t so indifferent to her after all.
As she adjusted the blanket he strolled behind her, his broad form blocking the worst of the wind. She snuggled into the covering and leaned against the trunk once again, turning to watch him.
“Delightful weather,” he said. He took off his hat and shook it, spattering raindrops across the ground. His hair was disheveled, dry to his ears but dampened to a dark brown and curling up at the ends. His jacket, the front of his shirt, and nearly all of his trousers were soaked. He still looked entirely handsome.
Undone by the Earl Page 10
