Anne made the rounds of the room twice and had to correct several people who congratulated her on her engagement before Lord Amberleigh detached himself from her father.
“There seems to be a rumor of our engagement,” she whispered to Amberleigh. Her voice had a bit of an edge to it.
Amberleigh tucked her hand proprietarily in the crook of his elbow and forestalled conversation while he led her to the edge of the rose garden where there was a small bench.
“Your garden is quite impressive,” he said.
“Not mine,” Anne corrected. “My mother’s and perhaps Eliza’s. I do not have a hand for gardening.”
“Oh,” he said. “I have always enjoyed a well-tended garden. It is relaxing, do you not think?”
Anne nodded. Amberleigh seated her beneath a particularly beautiful trellis of velvety red roses. They smelled heavenly and for a moment, Anne just enjoyed being out of doors and the feel of the familiar setting.
“Would you like something to drink?” He asked.
“Yes, that would be nice,” she said. Truthfully, she could do with a glass of sherry. She was not only parched, but nervous all of a sudden.
“I will bring you some punch,” Amberleigh said. He paused as if he wanted to say something else, but instead, just added. “I shall return momentarily.”
Anne closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of her mother’s roses. London had not been a trial, but the country soothed her soul. She could not deny that she was glad to be home in Northwickshire. She only needed to let the calm of the place seep into her soul, and all would soon right itself.
Friends and neighbors milled about the garden, sipping wine and punch, commenting on her mother’s lovely roses. Normally, Anne favored garden parties, not as much as her sister, Eliza of course. Eliza was able to name every plant and flower that grew in the north of England, but Anne did enjoy the out of doors and garden parties were always more casual than balls.
The lighthearted atmosphere offered an opportunity to relax with one’s friends and enjoy the day unfettered by so many of the social rules that governed balls. Why then, was she not enjoying herself? Despite the familiar crowd, Anne found herself feeling quite stiff and formal. She could not relax. As Anne looked about the pastoral setting she reflected that the problem, at least in part, had to be within herself rather than the party.
She noted from a distance that Alexander and Emily had arrived. The crowd moved to greet them. It was amazing how much the local society was opening up to the new Duke and Duchess of Bramblewood. Now that most of the respectable ladies and gentlemen of the district realized that Alexander was nothing like his villainous father. Emily paused to greet the Dowager Mayberry, one of the pillars of the Northwick society and the winner of multiple garden awards. Anne expected Eliza to be nearby, but instead, her sister was working her way towards Anne.
Eliza came and sat beside her sister on the small bench. She looked at her shoes while several people came forward congratulating Anne on her engagement.
“But it’s not…” Anne began trying to explain that her father had not yet approved the match. Well, perhaps he had but she had not given her answer. Indeed this was all going too fast. The ladies continued to gush, paying no mind at all to Anne’s attempted clarification. Eventually, they moved on, allowing Anne and her sister a moment of privacy.
Anne grimaced at her sister. “I am quite amazed at how quickly word got out about my…”Anne faltered. She stumbled over her words, still not quite able to say ‘betrothal’ aloud when it still felt so strange and new. “Situation,” she finished lamely. Anne supposed she shouldn’t have been so surprised. She knew that word traveled quickly in a small town, and gossip was rife. Mostly she liked to stay abreast of the latest news herself, but this… She frowned and shook her head.
Eliza looked at her, blinked and then looked down again. Anne realized suddenly that her sister, who was usually elated at the sight of a garden, any garden, looked positively morose. Eliza seemed not to be paying attention to the guests at all. Instead, she was blinking rapidly and picking at a thread on the edge of her glove. She was nearly in tears. Immediately, Anne pushed her own predicament to the background.
“Eliza, why are you so downcast? I should think you would have been happy to help host this gathering. After all, I know you had a hand in raising those roses. This is your chance to shine, sister.”
“Yes, I know.” Eliza agreed with a half-smile that quickly crumpled. She continued to fuss with her glove; prompting Anne to put a hand over her sister’s fingers, stilling the nervous fluttering. “Eliza, are you ill?” Anne asked.
“No.”
Anne ducked her head to force Eliza to meet her eyes. “Then why do you look as if you are ready to weep?”
“I’m not.” Eliza denied, her lip trembling.
“Come. Let us walk,” Anne said pulling her sister to her feet and starting along the path that led deeper into the garden and away from the crush of people.
“Shouldn’t you perhaps stay where Lord Amberleigh can easily find you?” Eliza asked. “Won’t he be fussed at not finding you just where he planted you?”
“Oh pish-posh,” Anne said waving away Eliza’s misgivings. “I do believe it would do Lord Amberleigh good to find that I am not quite so easily settled,” Anne said. “Anyway, he offered to bring me some refreshment quite some time ago. I do believe he has forgotten his errand and deserves to have to search for me. Come. Walk with me, Eliza, and tell me what it is that preys upon your mind.”
“Mother says I shouldn’t neglect our guests,” Eliza told her softly.
Anne huffed. “Mother is not here. If my sister needs to talk about something, I am here to listen.”
Anne guided Eliza past the chairs set carefully in the shade and the clustered knots of people conversing languidly over tea and escorted Eliza down the pebbled path between yet more rosebushes. “Now,” Anne said, once they were out of earshot of those nearest them. “What has stolen your smile, dear one? You usually have so much vivacity, especially when presented with an opportunity to be out of doors enjoying plants. Truly, something has upset you greatly, and it is my express duty as the eldest sibling to offer solace.”
“It’s Adam,” Eliza said.
“What about him?” Anne asked with a frown. She knew that her sister was head over heels about the young army captain, and they had been exchanging letters.
Eliza didn’t answer right away. Her fingertips brushed the petals of several roses. “There was no letter waiting for me,” she confessed.
Now, Anne understood, and she realized that this had been preying on Eliza’s mind for the last few days since they came to Northwickshire, and Anne had not been observant enough to notice. She felt a stab of guilt as Eliza said the next words in a great urgency as though it were a confession of sorts. “I expected a letter when I returned,” Eliza said. “It was understandable that he didn’t write to our London townhouse. I thought perhaps, Mother forgot to forward the letter. But there should have been a letter here when I returned, surely. Oh, Anne, I fear he has forgotten me, and I don’t know what I should do,” she finished in a rush. “Mother says I cannot write to him when I am the one who last corresponded. It would be forward. But what if he didn’t receive my last correspondence? What if he has been injured or worse?” Eliza bit her lip obviously torn between what she wanted to do and what was proper.
“And you have been holding this inside since we arrived in Northwickshire?” Anne said. “You should have told me.”
“I wanted to. Mother said not to bother you.”
Anne squeezed her sister’s hand and opened her mouth to reply, but sadly she was given no time to respond properly at all. Lord Amberleigh chose that moment to descend upon them.
“My dear, there you are,” Amberleigh said with a slight crease between his brows. “There are several individuals I feel we must meet, and it does not look well for me to have to hunt you down for the introductions.”
/> Anne felt her left eyebrow rise at this proclamation. She had hardly been lost. She had wandered only a few steps from her original location. She meant to berate Amberleigh, but to her surprise the words that tumbled from her lips sounded more like an apology than anything.
“I did not,” she began again, fully intending to give him a piece of her mind, but he continued apace.
“Perhaps you are not aware of just how much the society of Northwickshire matters to me. I wish to meet the neighborhood and gain their good opinion. I cannot do that unless you are by my side.”
She had not thought of that. “I do understand, Lord Amberleigh,” Anne said sharply. She was trying desperately to control her temper, but she could not ignore Eliza’s tearful wide-eyed gaze. Her ire rose swiftly at the interruption when her sister clearly needed her counsel. Besides, it seemed as though Lord Amberleigh had not the faintest idea that Anne herself had been trained in etiquette from the time she could lisp her ‘how do you dos’ at tea in the nursery with her governess. She did not need him to instruct her. “Perhaps it is you who do not understand,” Anne said. “My sister…”
“It was my fault entirely, my lord,” Eliza broke in, placing a proprietary hand upon Anne’s arm. “I wished to speak to my sister privately. A personal matter.” She blinked away her tears and stared down Lord Amberleigh with an impudent gaze that left Anne amazed at the sheer audacity of the statement. Eliza was rarely one to flaunt custom and social niceties, but she continued apace, her words sharp. “Please excuse us.”
Lord Amberleigh seemed particularly flummoxed by anything of a feminine personal nature.
“Well…very well.” He seemed disgruntled about the whole affair. “See that you do not take long about it,” he said, and then he softened. “I long to have you by my side,” he said to Anne, before he retreated hastily back the way he had come. He fell into conversation with the first titled individual with whom he crossed paths.
“Does it seem to you that Lord Amberleigh seems rather self-important?” Anne asked thoughtfully, as she wondered what her betrothed could possibly have to discuss with the rather elderly lord with whom he spoke in such an animated manner.
Eliza dropped her haughty façade the moment Amberleigh departed. “Oh Anne,” she sighed. “Your fiancée is indeed the most self-important—oh, Edmund, I did not see you there.”
Anne gasped, as Edmund appeared as suddenly as if he had stepped from a rosebush.
“No. Please do finish,” he said with a nonchalant wave of his hand. “Actually, I would be delighted to contribute a word or two. I can think of several adjectives to finish the description out.”
Anne blinked. “Wherever did you spring from? You seemed to come right from the roses.”
“Oh, I am one of the fair folk,” he teased. “Shall I spirit you away?”
Anne chuckled, in spite of herself. “I believe that you are a trickster. But one of the fair folk, I think not. You are not fair at all.”
“Oh, but that is unfair,” he quipped.
Anne sighed. She was in no mood for Edmund’s antics, besides, she wanted to talk to her sister, but Eliza had disappeared. She was once again left alone with Edmund. Anne turned intent upon getting back to the common paths. Edmund followed.
“You are much too tall to fit in a flower,” Anne said, disgruntled.
“But I have just done,” he said gesturing with a cheeky grin. This was the trouble with Edmund. He could never be serious.
“What do you want, Edmund?” Anne asked abruptly feeling somewhat exasperated by men in general. She shook her head as his Christian name slipped from her lips. She had not meant to be so familiar, but she could not seem to break the habit.
“I wanted to speak with you,” Edmund said suddenly serious. “I owe you an apology.”
Anne stared at him. “You want to apologize?” she said.
“Yes, it occurred to me that I did not state my feelings properly, and I upset you.”
“That does seem to be our normal discourse,” Anne said once again continuing to the common path.
“I never meant it so,” Edmund said, catching her arm and turning her to face him. “I wanted to explain to you, here today, but it seems every time I came close, someone would come along and…”
“Oh Anne! How exciting! Congratulations!” A bevy of girls around Anne’s age swarmed her suddenly, sweeping her from the conversation completely as though to underscore Edmund’s point. She could only look back helplessly at Edmund who watched from afar as Anne was dragged bodily to where the tables were set up for the meal itself.
Well, she had not meant to be rude, but when carried off in such a way what was there to do? The ladies put her squarely into the arms of her supposed-future-husband and Amberleigh looked all too pleased at the development.
“I am grateful to you,” he said to the knot of young women clustered around Anne, kissing the hand of the one nearest in an overly gallant gesture. “I see you had no trouble retrieving her for me.” Anne fumed. Had he sent the other girls to fetch her?
Amberleigh was oblivious to her ire and she was forced to paste a smile on her lips as he led her from one group of people to another. He never quite claimed Anne as his intended, but he kept implying it was so and Anne became more uncomfortable by the minute. Her throat was dry from accepting congratulations that all felt premature. She reminded herself, she had set out to find a husband in London, and she had done so. She has succeeded. Why did she feel so out of sorts?
When Amberleigh launched into a discussion of politics with one of her father’s friends, Anne excused herself.
He caught her hand for a moment as if to stop her, but she would not be detained. “I will be back,” she promised.
“Of course,” he apologized. “Here we are surrounded by ladies and delicate flowers, and we gentlemen have found the dullest topic of conversation. The intricacies of politics are not a diverting subject for a lady’s mind.”
Anne did not particularly follow politics, but resented the implication it was for lack of wit. It was simply a lack of interest. “I do not mind,” she said with a forced smile. “Continue your conversation. I meant to speak with Emily,” Anne said.
Amberleigh gave her a blank look. Did he not know Emily was her dearest friend?
“The Duchess of Bramblewood,” Anne clarified.
“Oh. By all means,” he said, releasing her.
Anne escaped, eyeing a footman with a tray of drinks, but by the time she reached him his tray was depleted. The Dowager Mayberry took the last glass of sherry only moments prior. That left only a single glass of punch on the tray.
Anne grimaced. At this point her nerves were so frazzled she would have preferred brandy.
The footman, who had been with the Albright family for some time, noticed her look and smiled. “I will return momentarily with some sherry, Miss Albright,” he said with a slight bow. “Give me but a moment to fill the tray.”
“I do know the way to the wine cellar, Hines,” Anne teased as she walked with the older man.
“I am sure you do, Miss Albright,” Hines said with a small nod. He hesitated. “Molly was looking for you earlier, before the party began.”
Molly, Anne knew, was one of the kitchen maids, an assistant to the cook. “What did she want to speak to me about?” Anne asked.
“Just a bit of gossip, most likely,” Hines said with a slight shrug. “You know Molly.”
Anne did know Molly, but right now a bit of gossip might be just the thing take her mind off of her own troubles.
Anne followed Hines to the kitchen and snagged a sherry from a tray that was awaiting distribution. The kitchen was a bustle of activity, and for a moment Anne just felt in the way, but then she saw Molly filling another tray with sweetmeats. She didn’t want to take the maid from her work, but on the other hand, maybe it wasn’t just a spot of gossip that Molly wanted to share. Anne knew that Molly’s parents were dead and she supported her younger brother with her wor
k here at Aldbrick Abbey. Perhaps something was wrong. Anne thought with concern. She had neglected her own sister in the last few days. She did not want to neglect Molly if there was something she could do to help.
“May I speak with you for a moment, Molly?” Anne said above the din, and the cook, who saw that it was Anne requesting the maid’s attention, waved to another to take over her task. Anne took one of the sweetmeats from the tray and popped it in her mouth and the two women slipped out the back door which led to the herb garden. “Hines said you were looking for me,” Anne said. “Was there something you needed? It’s not your brother is it?”
“Oh no, Miss. Nothing like that. I only heard a rumor that I thought you should know.”
So it was a spot of gossip, Anne thought. She grinned. She could use the distraction. “Well, then, do tell.” She took a sip of the sherry. It was sweet and refreshing on her tongue.
“I don’t know if it is true, of course.”
“Of course,” Anne said. This was not an unusual conversation for them. Anne was usually kept current on all the servants’ gossip, and Molly was a major player in the game. Anne had missed the exchange while in London.
“It’s about Lord Amberleigh,” Molly said in a rush.
Anne felt her stomach plummet. This was not going to ease her mind or be a distraction, she was sure. How was Molly privy to any gossip about Lord Amberleigh? He had arrived only days ago. The maid lowered her voice and Anne leaned close to hear.
“His valet is all proper, of course, but his driver is new. He said the last driver was sacked for a lack of discretion regarding…”
The door opened and there was suddenly a barrage of noise from the busy kitchen.
“Anne!” Lady Aldbrick’s voice cut through like a knife. “What are you doing hiding out here gossiping with the servants?”
“I was only…” Anne began, but she really had no excuse.
“Miss Barnes, I believe the cook has work for you. We are hosting a party.” Lady Aldbrick’s voice was grim.
“Yes, my lady,” Molly said with a quick curtsey and a glance at Anne. Molly rushed back into the kitchen.
The Viscount's Wayward Son: A Regency Romance (Ladies of the North Book 2) Page 15
