“No, no. We are going to be in the same family eventually. We needn’t stand on ceremony. I don’t mind answering your question.”
Chapter Eight
Lady Annabelle took a deep breath and clasped her hands together. She seemed to be thinking about her answer for several moments before she replied. David decided it was best to give her all the time she needed. He was too blunt. Too blunt and far too used to spending most of his time with other blunt men. Army men didn’t have the luxury of mincing words.
“The truth is I’m not interested in marriage,” Lady Annabelle finally said with a resolute nod, as if that explained everything.
David stared at her. Then he tilted his head to the side, regarding her at an angle. “Any particular reason you’re not interested?”
“No.” Her voice sounded slightly strained, and she glanced away as she said it.
He tilted his head up again. “And here I thought perhaps you’d fallen in love with someone you couldn’t marry. A tradesman perhaps. That’s not it, eh?” he asked, watching her carefully.
Lady Annabelle’s eyes widened. “Lord Elmwood, you are far too direct in your speech.”
David scrunched up his nose. Damn. He’d done it again. “I know. I’m trying. Believe me. But it’s much more efficient to get straight to the point. You should try it sometime.”
He’d been jesting, of course, trying to lighten the mood after his obvious faux pas, so he was nothing but pleased when the next thing she said was, “Very well. Are you interested in marriage?”
He settled back in his chair and regarded her before shrugging. “‘Interested’ may be too strong a word,” he replied with a chuckle. “But I understand it will eventually be my duty to marry and produce an heir.”
“You’ll marry only out of duty?” she prodded, leaning toward him slightly as if she’d found a subject she was heartily interested in.
He crossed his booted feet at the ankles. “Duty, yes. But I’d like to find a woman who likes me and wants to be my wife too. Someone whom I love, and who loves me back.”
Lady Annabelle’s back stiffened and a look of pure amazement came over her face.
David chuckled again. “Did that answer surprise you, my lady?”
“Yes, actually,” Lady Annabelle allowed.
The butler returned with the tray of drinks just then and sat it on the table between them. David watched as Lady Annabelle went about pouring him a cup. She even did that elegantly, no doubt carefully trained in the fine art of pouring drinks.
“Sugar?” she asked.
“Never.”
“Cream?”
He pulled a face. “An army man doesn’t use cream. No cows following us around on the battlefield and all that.”
She blinked at him as if his words had confused her. “Yes, but you’re in London now.”
“Don’t want to get soft.” He cracked a grin at her.
She shook her head “That’s just silly, if you ask me. If you prefer cream, have some.”
“I don’t. But I’m much more interested in why my answer surprised you than whether I should take up requesting cream in my coffee.”
Lady Annabelle handed him the cup and saucer prettily. He took the pair and set it in front of him. Did he do that properly? No doubt these people had rules for precisely where to set coffee cups and saucers.
Lady Annabelle switched to pouring herself a cup of tea. With cream. “I’ve never heard a man say that he wants to marry for love.”
David considered her words for a moment. His parents had been in love. It was obvious in the way they treated each other. They talked, they laughed, they even held hands. They enjoyed dancing together in the great room of the cottage, too. “I suppose there are other reasons to marry. But love is the most important, as far as I’m concerned. It’s certainly what I’m after…eventually.”
Lady Annabelle finished stirring her tea and took a dainty sip. “You keep saying that word, ‘eventually.’ Does that mean you won’t be looking for a countess this Season?”
“I’m not arrogant enough to believe that love comes when you call, my lady. I may not be looking for it, but if the right match appears, I don’t want to miss it, either.”
“Oh, good. Then you won’t mind if I introduce you to some of the more accomplished ladies of the ton?” She eyed him over the rim of her teacup.
“‘Accomplished?’” David frowned, pronouncing the word in an overly dramatic voice. “I’d prefer the kind ladies, or the witty ladies, or the clever ladies. Accomplished is not my first criterion.”
Lady Annabelle froze again for a moment, then nodded, before bringing the teacup back to her lips and taking another sip. “I only meant some of the ladies are more…desirable than others.”
David lifted his cup and took a sip of coffee. Smooth, refined. Not at all the harsh stuff he’d been served at camp. Would probably taste even better with cream. “Like you?” he asked.
Their eyes met over the rim of their respective cups and their gazes held for a moment. Finally, Lady Annabelle glanced away. “Yes, like me. Only younger,” she replied with a laugh. “I’m nearly considered on-the-shelf at my age.”
“Oh, how old are you?”
She glared at him. “Lord Elmwood, that is a wholly inappropriate question.”
David chuckled. “I knew it the moment it left my mouth. But let me just say that if you’re on the shelf, apparently no one told those chaps who sent all the flowers.” He nodded toward the foyer.
She glanced at him sideways, rolling her eyes. “Those chaps who sent the flowers don’t care how old I am. They only want to win the unattainable.”
“I see.” David nodded. “It’s true that most men enjoy winning.”
“Horse races and marriage proposals should not be considered equal.”
“I agree with you.”
“You do?” She blinked at him as if she hadn’t understood what he’d said.
“Yes, and in addition to that…” David cleared his throat. “You apologized to me yesterday, but it seems I owe you an apology as well.”
Lady Annabelle cocked her head to the side, her brow was furrowed. “Apology for what?”
“I judged you too harshly the other night. I assumed you were incredibly vain, but it’s true that every man in London is after you, if those flowers out there are any indication.” David wasn’t about to mention the betting pool at White’s. He didn’t need her to tell him that that would be in bad taste, indeed.
She sighed and set down her cup. “You didn’t judge me too harshly at all, my lord. I can only imagine how truly vain I seemed.” Sincere regret sounded in her voice.
“If you’ve been dealing with scores of suitors chasing you about for years, I can well understand why you believed I was just another one in a long line of men trying to get your attention.”
Lady Annabelle gave him a patient smile. “It was still exceedingly ill-mannered of me, my lord. I’m sorry to have given you the wrong impression. Unfortunately, I’ve been considered the most elusive catch of the last several Seasons.”
He narrowed his eyes on her again, studying her. “At the risk of asking another impertinent question, why exactly do you consider that unfortunate? I would have thought it would be a young woman’s dream.”
“For most young women, perhaps.” She took another sip. “It’s simply that…” Lady Annabelle shrugged again. She glanced away. “I suppose I’ve always had this funny notion that people should marry because they like each other, because they intend to treat each other with respect and kindness, not because one is trying to win the other like a prize hog at a fair.”
“And you’re the prize hog?” he said with a grin.
“Precisely,” she replied, meeting his eyes once again and returning his smile. She lifted her cup to her lips once more.
“Well, that I can certainly understand. I’m glad we started again, Lady Annabelle.”
“So am I,” she said, giving him a smile that
made his insides light up. “And I’m three and twenty. I trust you will not repeat that to another living soul.”
Chapter Nine
That afternoon, Annabelle arrived at Lady Courtney’s town house at precisely one o’clock. Her maid, who was acting as chaperone, waited in the carriage as she marched up the steps and used the brass knocker against the tall black door. Annabelle had something specific she wanted to ask Marianne.
Annabelle had spent the entire ride here being completely preoccupied with two things, both of which Lord Elmwood had said to her this morning. First, he’d said he wanted to marry someone for love. Love! She honestly thought she hadn’t heard him correctly at first. She’d had more discussions with men about marriage than she cared to think about. And in all those discussions—every single one—the word ‘love’ had never been uttered. Oh, no. Beauty had been mentioned. Dowries, family lineage, titles, children, and duty had been mentioned. Even the word ‘affection’ had been bandied about from time to time. But love? Never.
Lord Elmwood was unlike any of the other men of the ton. They’d all grown up with the rules drilled into their proper little heads. Love wasn’t part of the rules. Love might as well be a giraffe, as rare as it was in London. No doubt about it. Lord Elmwood had thoroughly surprised her when he’d admitted he was looking for love.
The second thing Annabelle couldn’t stop thinking about was the casual way in which Lord Elmwood had mentioned the things Annabelle had always wished a man would care about when it came to looking for a match. When she’d said she would introduce him to some of the more accomplished ladies, he’d told her he preferred kind or witty or clever ladies instead. Imagine that! He’d surprised her so much with that statement she’d nearly dumped her tea in her lap. What sort of strange fellow was he? A gentleman who cared about more than beauty and dowries? In fact, he’d never even mentioned a dowry. He had to know they existed, didn’t he? Marianne would be bringing one to her marriage with Beau. How could an earl want a wife for her wit? A love match? The concept was so foreign she could barely believe it.
She might be preoccupied by Lord Elmwood’s unconventional speech and declarations, but neither of those things were why she’d come to visit Marianne today. No. Annabelle’s purpose in today’s call was much more practical. If one wanted to learn about a man, one should speak to his younger sister. If only all those silly women who’d thrown themselves at Beau for years had bothered to ask her advice, one of them might have caught his interest. As it was, she was glad for Marianne. Annabelle couldn’t have wished for a better sister-in-law. Unpretentious, caring, obviously adoring of Beau. Marianne would make a fine addition to their family. And Annabelle was determined that Marianne’s brother, Lord Elmwood, would make a fine match for some fortunate debutante as well. Hence, the reason for her visit.
After being ushered inside by the staunch butler, Annabelle waited patiently in Lady Courtney’s front salon until Marianne came breezing in, her bright red hair piled atop her head and a lovely mint green gown gracing her lithe frame.
Annabelle immediately stood and exchanged cheek kisses with her soon-to-be sister-in-law.
“It’s good to see you, Annabelle. What are you doing here?” Marianne asked before the smile dropped away from her face. “Wait. Is this about David? Has he done something awful? I do hope he hasn’t embarrassed you.”
Annabelle laughed and shook her head. “No. No. Nothing like that. Although I did want to discuss David, if that is all right with you,” she ventured.
The wary look remained on Marianne’s face. “Are you certain he hasn’t done something? Said something?”
Annabelle followed Marianne to the dark-blue settee near the front window, where they both took a seat.
“We had a pleasant chat this morning,” Annabelle continued as she settled into her seat. “We discussed calling cards and his marriage prospects.”
“Really?” Marianne arched a brow, a wary look in her face.
“Why do you sound surprised to hear it?” Annabelle asked next.
Marianne glanced down at her skirts and smoothed them. “It’s just that, well, David’s never been one to discuss his marriage prospects. Our dear Mama was beside herself trying to pry the slightest bit of information out of him.”
Annabelle narrowed her eyes. “Is that right?”
“Yes, he’s been completely mum on the subject for years.”
“I understand how he feels,” Annabelle mumbled under her breath.
“What was that?” Marianne asked.
“Nothing, it’s just that I was hoping you could tell me some things about Lord Elmwood. Uh, erm, perhaps what type of woman would be a good match for him? It will help me narrow the list of ladies I intend to introduce him to this Season.”
A bright smile spread across Marianne’s face. “Oh, that’s too good of you, Annabelle. I knew you’d be the perfect person to help David navigate Society. You’re far too kind.”
Annabelle returned her friend’s smile. “Honestly, it’s the least I could do after the atrocious start Lord Elmwood and I got off to the other night.”
Marianne winced much like her brother often did. “Yes, I was afraid to ask you about that yesterday. You said David wasn’t smoking, but—”
Annabelle reached out and patted Marianne’s hand. “Don’t worry one bit. I assure you I was the rude one, not your brother.”
Marianne gave her a look that clearly indicated she didn’t believe a word Annabelle had just said. “I find that difficult to believe, but I do appreciate your assistance in helping him. I’m certain Lady Courtney, Julianna, and Frances have been at their wits’ end teaching me.”
“Nonsense,” Annabelle squeezed her hand. “You’ve been perfectly behaved in every situation I’ve seen you in.”
Marianne gave her a wry smile. “That’s good of you to say, but the Season has barely begun. I’m as nervous as tailor with no thread.”
Annabelle laughed. “There’s absolutely nothing to be nervous about. You and Lord Elmwood will both do fine.”
Marianne nodded. “It certainly helps that I’m already betrothed. I cannot imagine the nerves I’d have if I had to brave the events of the Season in hopes of finding a husband. That’s why I’m surprised David spoke to you about it.”
Annabelle tilted her head from side to side. “Well, to be precise, he said he realized that he’d need to find a wife…eventually. And that’s why I’ve come. I could ask him myself, of course, but I happen to know that if you want to know the truth about a man, you ask his younger sister.”
Marianne laughed. “I suppose you did share with me quite a few delicious secrets about Beau.”
Annabelle nodded. “Tell me, what sort of a lady would make a good match for your brother?”
Marianne straightened her shoulders and smoothed her skirts again. Clearly warming to the topic, she turned to face Annabelle directly. “Well, she must be kind, patient, and quick to laugh.” Marianne ticked off the qualities on her fingers. “Clever, honest, and understanding.”
“Those sound reasonable to me,” Annabelle replied, mentally cataloging the lot of them. “But is there something else you can tell me, something that will really make me understand how your brother sees the world?”
Marianne thoughtfully tapped her cheek for a few moments before snapping her fingers. “Oh, yes, here’s something. It’s been ages since I’ve thought of this.”
Annabelle nodded and eagerly leaned in to hear more.
“When we were children,” Marianne began, “David felt responsible for Frederick and me. He was the eldest, after all.”
“Yes,” Annabelle replied, swallowing the lump that suddenly formed in her throat as she thought of how Beau had felt responsible for both her and their mother.
“Being older, David was always better at everything than Frederick,” Marianne continued. “He ran faster, swam farther, and jumped higher. It made poor Frederick terribly frustrated.”
“Go on,” Annabe
lle said. She and Beau had been the only children in their family, but she could well imagine how difficult it would be for a younger brother to always find himself falling short.
“Well, David knew that Frederick was unhappy because he never won in any physical competition between the two of them. One day, our town hosted a race for the boys. It was meant to be fun, but the winner would win a prize pie from the baker’s shop.”
Annabelle nodded.
“David was the strongest, fastest boy in town and he could have easily won the competition, but he knew that Frederick wanted to impress a young girl he fancied. The girl was watching from the finish line of the race.”
Annabelle held her breath. “Oh, dear. What happened?”
“David made certain he and Frederick were far ahead of the pack of boys in the final race to the finish line. They’d both turned the corner around Mr. Hodges’ house and were headed to the tree behind the church.”
“And?” Annabelle prompted. She was nearly on the edge of her seat.
“David slowed enough to allow Frederick to pull ahead of him and win, right in front of the girl he fancied.” Tears pooled in Marianne’s eyes. “Frederick proudly picked out the pie and shared it with the girl…and with David and me, of course, later.”
Annabelle sighed. “David let him win?” she breathed. “In front of the whole town.”
“He didn’t just let him win.” Marianne smiled through the tears. “After the race, the girl who David fancied at the time asked him if he’d purposely lost.”
“What did he say?” Annabelle asked, holding her breath again.
Marianne’s face was full of pride. “David said no, and the girl told him she didn’t want to spend another moment in the company of a loser.”
Annabelle gasped. Outrage shot through her. “She didn’t!”
“Yes.” Marianne nodded. “She did. David came home, and I asked him what happened. He said he didn’t care to keep company with a girl like that.”
Earl Lessons: The Footmen’s Club Series Page 6