The Wicked Wallflowers: Regency Boxed Set (Chronicles of a Bluestocking)

by Tammy Andresen

  “You don’t say.” Luke frowned. What was this man talking about?

  “Now there is Annie. That’s what her friends call her. I don’t need to tell you what’s special about her. One dance and you’ve likely got it all sorted.”

  Luke’s fingers clenched. He did have it all sorted. But he didn’t like that Pierce also knew. “She is not a woman for you.”

  Pierce leaned back, a devilish smile playing about his lips. “I knew you knew.” Then he winked. Luke’s fist tightened. Pierce either didn’t see or he ignored the gesture. “Last, there is Lady Caroline.”

  His fist relaxed even as his eyebrows went up. “Does she also have an irresponsible parent?”

  “No.” Pierce frowned as he said the single word, his brows drawing together. He looked far more serious and somehow more likable without that devilish grin he usually wore. “She was caught kissing a man in the garden, but she never gave up the identity of the fellow.”

  Luke pulled his chin back in surprise. “She’s protecting the man who ruined her?”

  His brows drew tighter. “I suppose she is. Silly thing to do.”

  “It’s better than lying to trap an innocent man in marriage.” Luke returned to his chair and took another swig of his drink, only to find the contents gone.

  Pierce slapped the arm of his chair as he sat back down too. “It’s just unfair that now she’s left with no prospects. And these women…there is something about them that’s different.”

  Luke didn’t want to talk about Annabelle and her friends any longer. He could hardly stop thinking about her as it was. “So what do you need an inventor’s help with?”

  Pierce looked up in surprise. “Oh. He’s got land that borders mine. A beautiful spot right on the ocean. I believe some of it isn’t entailed. I’d like to purchase it from him.”

  “We took a very roundabout path to that tidbit of information.” Luke gave his head a small shake. “If what the information about their financial situation is true, you’d think he’d want to take your meeting.”

  Pierce rubbed his face again. “One would think, but it’s always Lady Annabelle who answers when I call and she always has a reason to turn me away.”

  That burning in the back of his eyes started again, as he squeezed his glass tighter. “You call on her?”

  “Weren’t you listening? Not her. Her father. I just can’t get through her to see him. She talks me in circles until she shows me the door.”

  Now that sounded familiar. And suddenly he had the feeling she’d been right. Their dance might not be the last time they saw one another. Because the thought of Pierce with Annabelle, giving her his winning smile and his charming looks, made Luke want to hit things.

  Preferably Pierce’s face.

  Chapter Four

  Annabelle sat in the carriage as it rumbled toward her home, trying not to let Chloe irritate her. She loved her friend, she truly did. But she hadn’t had a mother in a very long time, and she didn’t appreciate Chloe clucking over her now.

  “The man is dangerous. He ruined a woman, Annie.”

  Annabelle’s mouth pinched. “We don’t know that for certain. That’s why I wanted to talk with him in the first place.” And honestly, her first impression hadn’t lent to a rakish man. He was surly but studious. And while dark passions simmered under the surface, or so she imagined, they seemed tightly kept under control.

  “Well, you talked. He was rude. And he glowers and…”

  “Chloe, I glower,” Fin gently interrupted. “That doesn’t mean he isn’t still a good man.”

  “You’re the exception darling.” Chloe reached over and patted his hand. “Some men look dark and dangerous because they are.”

  “Chloe,” Annabelle cleared her throat. Fin knew they were writing the book, but he didn’t approve, and no one had told him that she was doing research on Lord Harding. “I understand what you’re saying. I wanted to meet him and now I have. You need not worry yourself further. My curiosity is satisfied.”

  Chloe straightened as she narrowed her gaze. “Your curiosity is rarely satisfied.”

  “Why,” Fin started, “were you curious to begin with? I know why Penny wanted Preston. That made sense to me, they could help each other. But he is an unlikely match for you and with the rumors.” Fin stopped. “This isn’t about that bloody book, is it?”

  “No,” both she and Chloe spoke at the same moment.

  “We gave that up. Terrible idea.” Chloe gave her husband a broad smile then turned to Annabelle with a brow raised. “I mean that with all sincerity. The book is a bad idea.”

  Annabelle pursed her lips. Chloe should know better than to try and change Annabelle’s course now. Once an idea took seed, she rarely let it go without seeing it through.

  Chloe smoothed her skirts. “Let’s talk about your home on the ocean instead.”

  Annabelle knew that Chloe was attempting to distract her. For the last few years, Annabelle had dreamed of building her own home on the sea. She loved the water and researching its creatures more than anything else. Her father had one piece of land that wasn’t entailed and he’d promised it to her. Technically, it was a dowry of sorts, but she’d been able to get him to sign papers saying that the land was hers no matter her marital status. Now she just needed to convince him to give her the property before his death.

  She’d been saving her money to build a cottage. Using a nom de plume, she’d written several articles that had been published in scientific journals. The house would be small, of course, but it would be perfect for her and Caroline. “Your tricks won’t work.”

  Chloe gave a little shrug. “We’re nearly at your house. Get some rest and forget about grumpy marquesses. Focus on building a real life for yourself.”

  Annabelle held in a sigh. At one and twenty years of age, she still had four years to go before she could officially live on her own without a chaperone. She’d spent endless days dreaming up cottages, counting her money, drafting legal documents. There was no more to do until she was older. “Thank you for taking me tonight, Chloe.” She leaned over and kissed her friend’s cheek. “You’re a dear friend.”

  She appreciated Chloe’s concern, but she had no intention of leaving Lord Harding alone. Actually, she knew exactly how to get him to show his true colors. If she wanted him to play the part of rogue, she’d need to be less than a lady.

  Her mouth pulled down at the corners. For a moment, concern over her reputation tugged at her stomach. But her reputation was of no concern. Her father had seen to that. She may as well use her status to help others like Caroline. And so, she’d continue her research.

  The carriage pulled to a stop and Dryden climbed out to escort her inside. Linking her arm through his, she turned to Fin. “You’re a good man. Chloe is lucky to have you.”

  He cleared his throat. “Thank you, but I’m the lucky one.”

  He slowly climbed the steps as she gathered her skirts in hand. “Tomorrow is Sunday. Do you have plans?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Except church. Chloe insists.”

  “And Monday? I want to have Chloe for tea, but I don’t want to interrupt your time together. Are you home on Monday?”

  “No, I’m not. I’m sure she’d love to have tea with you.”

  Annabelle gave him a winning smile. She’d learned exactly what she needed to know. He’d mentioned a meeting with Lord Harding in a few days. The day must be Monday. “Very good. I’ll send word to her tomorrow.” She had no intention of doing so. Nor would she have Chloe for tea. She was on a mission once again. This time, hopefully, she’d be more subtle. Now the only question was how would she see Lord Harding again?

  Luke sat in his favorite shop, with a steaming pot of tea in front of him and a plate filled with fruit pasties. Simple pleasures. Dryden sat across from him, their meeting nearly complete. Luke had to be honest, he liked the man. He didn’t talk too much, had a good head for business.

  Their partnership was sure to be
a successful one.

  “I have one more matter I wish to discuss.” Dryden shifted in his chair.

  “Speak freely,” Luke answered, reaching for a pasty.

  “It’s about Annie,” Dryden answered, and Luke set down his flaky bit of snack.

  Then he wiped his fingers on his napkin. “She asked me to dance.” Then he winced. He didn’t want to blame her. “Though the dance was lovely enough, Lady Annabelle is not a woman whom I am interested in pursuing.”

  Dryden gave a stiff nod. “Very good. I wouldn’t ask at all but my wife.” Dryden made a face. Rather like he’d seen something awful. “She loves her friends and I love her so…”

  Luke assessed the man. He was very free with that word love. No one since his mother had declared any affection for him. “So it’s a love match then?”

  Dryden gave him a smile that lit his entire face. He’d never seen a man so transformed. “From the moment she swept into my life, she breached my defenses and has been tearing them down ever since.”

  An uncomfortable tightening of his chest made him ache. Because he’d had a very similar thought upon meeting Annabelle. She’d immediately slid past all the usual techniques he employed to hold people at bay. But that was simply her intelligence wasn’t it? She hadn’t sparked any feelings, well other than desire. “And you like this? Her seeing all the parts of you that you’ve carefully hidden?”

  His smile widened, his face relaxed and joyful. “I do.”

  Luke’s own expression had to be full of doubt. No woman should know about the man who’d raised him. The sort of horrors his own father had inflicted on him. But Dryden wasn’t a man he knew well enough to confide in, not that many were, so he shrugged instead. “Good for you.”

  Dryden winked and then rose from the chair. “You’ve got a lovely snack to eat and I’ve got a home to return to.”

  Luke gave a quick nod and Dryden turned to go. As he exited the door of the empty shop, Luke sighed with relief, then lifted a pasty to his mouth. Just before taking a bite, he muttered, “Tied to a woman’s apron strings.”

  “I beg your pardon,” a feminine voice said just behind him. He recognized the timber or perhaps just the feeling its tones sent skittering along his skin.

  He dropped the pastry. “Annabelle.”

  She came around from behind him and leaned her hip on his table. As though she’d done it every day, she reached down to his plate of pastries and snatched one up then took a bite. Those lovely pale pink lips had a dusting of powdered sugar on them as she slowly chewed, looking down at him. “Did I interrupt your repose?”

  “As a matter of point, you did.” He glanced behind him to see another woman staring at him from the table just behind him. At least she’d come chaperoned. “But do stop leaning on my table. You’ll give people the wrong idea.”

  She glanced about, taking another bite. Then she swallowed, one of her eyebrows cocking up. “Which people?”

  The little chit was being intentionally obtuse. Which he’d had quite enough of. Reaching up, he grasped her hip to move her to a more respectable distance when he realized his mistake. The feel of that curve in his hand made his blood heat. “Lady Annabelle,” he ground out, but he didn’t remove his hand. His brain told him to do it, but his body wouldn’t obey.

  “You know, a gentleman would not touch me in such a way.”

  He’d been staring at his own hand, but he snapped his gaze up to hers. “A lady would never lean against my table, so we’re even.”

  She leaned down so that their faces were only inches apart. “We’ve already established that I am a fallen woman.”

  He had the ridiculous urge to stretch up and lick the powdered sugar from her lips. Thank goodness he sat and a tablecloth covered his lap. He dropped his hand. “Lady Annabelle, do you have any idea what sort of behavior you would invite if you said those words to another man?” He drew in a ragged breath. “I apologize for touching you that way. I only meant to move you to a more respectable distance.”

  She snapped up her head, still looking down at him. Her gaze had lost that air of intimacy. Instead she assessed him with a narrow-eyed glare that made him lean back. “Another man might take advantage. But not you?”

  He leaned back to better assess her. “There are many qualities I lack, but chivalry, for the most part, isn’t one of them.”

  Lord help him, he swallowed down a lump as her tongue darted out to lick the sugar from her lips. “You said you’d never even met Lady Cecilia.”

  “That’s correct.” This again. Why was she so fixated on the rumors about Lady Cecilia? “While London loves a good story, the reason her family hasn’t arrived at my door with loaded pistols is because I wasn’t even at the event in which she has accused. I was still travelling to London at the time. I had hoped by going to the ball two nights ago, I’d help lay the rumors to rest. Guilty men do not generally show their faces.”

  Her head cocked to the side as she assessed him, her hip still against the table and one finger came up to rest against her chin. “But if you never participate in society then why do you care what they think?”

  He frowned. If marrying him were her intent, he was about to give her ammunition. “I’ll have to marry eventually. It’s my duty to my title. I’m scary enough without adding a blighted reputation.”

  Her mouth dropped open and she finally straightened away from the table. “You’re serious?” She didn’t look happy that he was innocent or interested that he would eventually be in the market for wife. As her brows drew together, he realized, she appeared irritated.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” He pushed his chair back and stood as well. He rather liked looking up at her, especially when she’d been playful. “I’ve been honest with you. Now I need some in return. Why did you seek me out at the ball? Why are you here now?”

  Chapter Five

  Annabelle’s lips drew together in a thin line. By all accounts this man wasn’t the rake she’d thought him to be. Which meant she didn’t need to research him. In fact, she needn’t continue this conversation at all. So why was she still standing here? “I didn’t seek you out at the ball.”

  “Let’s not play the game where you try to redirect with a technicality.” He bent forward, one of his hands resting on the table so that his face was once again close to hers. This time, however, he was in control. “The truth, Lady Annabelle.”

  She nibbled at her lip, which still tasted like sugar. Some measure of the truth seemed in order. “My friend was ruined by a man.” She took a breath. “She won’t say who, but I am trying to find him and…” She stopped when he sucked in a breath.

  “I can only assume this is Lady Caroline we’re discussing?”

  She gave a stiff nod even as her heart jumped in her chest. How did he know about that?

  “And you’re going around engaging with any man who’s had the title of rake attached to his name?”

  Well, not exactly. She’d only just begun with him and she already knew who’d ruined Caroline. But she was doing the research to keep women like her friend safer. “More or less.”

  He ran a hand through his hair and then repeated the gesture. His scar twitched on the side of his face and she had the urge to reach up and touch it. She’d never wished to touch a man so intimately before.

  “Do you have any idea how dangerous such a pursuit is?”

  She took a step back, irritation making her forget the intimacy of a moment before. Or perhaps it was still there only it was now charged with a different energy. Her breath came out in a huff. “I don’t need your help.”

  One corner of his mouth turned down. “I disagree. You are in grave need of assistance.”

  Irritation skittered along her skin, though something far deeper tugged. A tiny corner of her heart liked his concern. No man had ever looked out for her welfare. She supposed her father kept a roof over her head but that was the extent of it. “Lord Harding I appreciate your concern but rest assured, I have been in charge o
f my own destiny for some time. What’s more, if I need aid, you are in no way responsible for giving it.” She took another step back. “I apologize for interrupting and I can assure you that I will not bother you again.”

  The time for her to leave had long passed. Not only was he not the rake she’d hoped, he was beginning to poke at her carefully concealed wounds.

  But he stepped between her and her chaperone again. “Last time we met, you assured me I would see you again. You kept good on your promise.” He moved a bit closer, his voice dropping. “This time, I promise you our relations are far from over.”

  “But why?” Had her voice just come out squeaky? She never squeaked. “You already told me I wouldn’t make a suitable candidate for your wife. Why would you want to see me again?”

  He rubbed his hand over his face. “That is an excellent question and I do not have the answer, but I know that I cannot allow you to go gallivanting about London seeking out all the ne’er-do-wells.”

  Dear lord in heaven was this actually happening? “Lord Harding, don’t be ridiculous.”

  Running his hand through his hair, he frowned again. “Perhaps it is absurd. But I like Dryden and I’ve business here in London and I’ll see that you stay out of trouble.”

  “You are the least appropriate chaperone I can imagine.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “Well, for your own safety, you’re stuck with me.”

  I’ve gone mad. That was the only explanation that made any sense, Luke thought as he carefully tied his cravat. Not only had he pledged to keep an innocent, unattached woman safe, he’d written to Dryden to find out when he was escorting Anabelle out again only to learn that it was that very night.

  So now he was dressing for another social engagement two days after he’d already attended one.

  The problem was that Annie seemed to spark something deep inside. It must be her resemblance to his mother that he felt this strange need to protect her. He’d been too young to keep his mother safe from his father’s explosive temper, hell, he hadn’t even been able to protect himself. He ran his hand along the scar on his face. The bastard. Luke hoped he was rotting in hell.