His Scandalous Lessons

by Katrina Kendrick

Richard was right. Not only did Granby know more about horses than women, he seemed to know more about them than, well, anything. She was exhausted.

  Even so, Anne tried her best to show polite interest. Though Caroline had introduced her to many gentlemen the night before, few had the influence or independence Granby did. The others were either too young, more interested in dalliances than marriage, or didn’t strike her as willful enough not to succumb to Stanton’s machinations. This would all be pointless if she ended up with a man who could be easily manipulated by her father after she had worked so hard to escape him.

  “It astonishes me that you never learned how to ride,” Granby said as they rounded a small pond on the Ravenhill property. “I thought most ladies did, especially those raised in the country.”

  Anne could not tell him that Stanton believed riding afforded a woman too much freedom. If she could ride, perhaps she might consider leaving him one day. So her father kept her dependent on means of transportation that involved the servants in his employ.

  “I suppose I’ll have to learn now, won’t I?” she said, flashing Granby a smile — the precise smile Richard had spoken of the night before.

  And its effect astonished her: Granby ducked his head and cleared his throat, his cheeks reddening.

  “I would be pleased to help you,” Granby said. His smile was shy. “Tomorrow, if you’d like?”

  Anne suddenly felt so bloody guilty for thinking him boring. He may not be the most exciting gentleman — he didn’t heat her blood or make her smile like Richard did — but he was kind. A partnership with him would not be passionate, but it would be safe.

  Safety after a betrothal to a man like Kendal was more than she could have dreamed. It would be worth everything.

  “Would you?” she asked in delight.

  They were nearing the gardens now, which meant their walk would be at an end. But he was proposing an outing tomorrow, and that was another victory.

  “Of course. Her Grace has a full stable if you’d like to begin riding lessons in the morning—”

  “Miss Sheffield!”

  Anne looked over to see the Earl of Montgomery striding across the path towards them.

  She straightened, uncertain why he was approaching at such a quick pace. They had danced the night before, and though he had made her laugh, she was uneasy with him. There was something dark behind his much lauded charm. His smile — while breathtakingly beautiful — was utterly false. It did not entirely hide whatever secrets he kept behind his gaze.

  Oh, his grin was so dazzling that most people wouldn’t look beyond it. But Anne was accustomed to playing a role; it was easy enough to recognize the same habit in others. On principle, this did not endear Montgomery to her. She had good reason to be wary of men who used magnetism and good looks to camouflage the parts of themselves they did not wish others to see.

  After all, her father had excelled at this chameleon quality. He had built an entire career out of it.

  And she? Yes, she supposed it was a talent of hers, as well.

  She put this talent to use by smiling warmly as he reached them. Anne could handle men with secrets; she had done so her entire life. “Good afternoon, my lord. How do you fare?”

  Montgomery, despite his faults, was handsome. His hair was a shade darker than hers, more auburn than red. Paired with his green eyes, she could see why many ladies considered him a better catch than the Marquess of Granby, despite possessing a lesser title.

  “Very well, Miss Sheffield,” he said, in a voice as smooth as silk. “Good day, Granby.”

  Beside her, Granby smiled in greeting. “Montgomery.”

  “Keeping Miss Sheffield all to yourself, old chap? Not that I blame you, of course.” His smile was almost wicked. “She’s quite lovely. The garden brings out the green in her eyes.”

  “She’s also standing right here,” Anne said sweetly.

  Granby let out a laugh. “Good show, Miss Sheffield.”

  “Quite,” replied Montgomery in amusement. It seemed genuine. “And how do you find the property?”

  “Beautiful. Lord Granby and I have been discussing horses,” Anne said pleasantly. “The duchess has a stable.”

  “Does she?” He glanced over her shoulder and his expression changed. Only a flicker, but long enough that Anne became uneasy once more. She could not read this expression; it was foreign to her. “That’s fascinating. Very fascinating. We were just about to begin a game of croquet. Interested?”

  Anne looked at Granby, who was shaking his head. “I think I’ll head in for a bit of a respite before dinner, but you go without me,” he told Anne.

  Before Anne could protest, Montgomery grinned, all trace of that other emotion gone now. “I shall take great care of her. See you at dinner, old chap.”

  Anne watched Granby leave with growing irritation. Montgomery had the kind of overbearing personality that might cause a shy man like the marquess to stay away from her if he thought he had no chance.

  She could not afford to be distracted by someone who was not the least bit interested in marriage, and Montgomery most certainly was not. Nor would she let herself be controlled by yet another man with secrets, who wore a public mask so easily.

  No, this would not do.

  “Tell me the truth,” she said, a hardness entering her voice before she could stop it. “Were you lying about that game of croquet, my lord?”

  Montgomery feigned offense. Oh yes, that charm was a clever ruse. “I? Lie?” At her arched brow, he admitted, “Her Grace has proposed croquet for tomorrow on the west lawn, and I needed Granby to make a quick exit. Knowing his dislike for sport, I made a small untruth.”

  “Otherwise known as a lie.”

  He seemed amused and surprised by her honest language. But she had spent several days with Richard, and found plain speaking refreshing. She had no time for nonsense or manipulations. Granby, despite having a passion for precisely one thing, did not play games.

  “Bravo, Miss Sheffield. Most of the other women here would have pretended not to notice.”

  Anne narrowed her gaze. “I’m not interested in pretending. Nor am I unobservant. Whatever you intend to use me for, know that I’m unwilling.”

  But when she thought that might have angered him, Montgomery only smiled. “You were pretending with Granby though, weren’t you? I ought to commend you. It must have been difficult to feign interest when his list of hobbies is so limited.”

  “I owe you no explanation, sir. Excuse me.” She started away along the garden path, hoping he would understand the hint to leave her alone, but he only followed.

  “I see why he’s besotted with you,” Montgomery murmured. “I thought he’d lost his bloody mind last night, but . . . yes, now I see it.”

  Anne stopped abruptly. “I beg your pardon?”

  All trace of his facade was gone now. Montgomery studied her with a shrewd gaze, like a commander getting a sense of the battlefield.

  “Grey,” he said, as if it should be obvious. “He made it clear I was not to trifle with you.”

  Anne ought to have been annoyed at Richard’s interference, but he had made a promise, hadn’t he? He would not let her trade one prison cell for another. She trusted his judgment, and he had helped her with Granby.

  “Are you adversaries, then?”

  Montgomery’s lip curled. She supposed it was meant to be a smile, but it more closely resembled a grimace. “Friends. Of a sort.”

  “Of a sort?”

  “Yes. Friendship does not come easily to me.” He made some noise. It seemed like a confession, perhaps, of frustration. “And so I will heed his warning.”

  Anne tilted her head. He confounded her, this man, for he was too complex for her to understand. Like a mathematical equation she had come across without first learning the fundamentals. “This is not permission, you understand, but what did you wish to use me for? What made you approach so quickly?”

  His studied her briefly, then he nodded on
ce. “Very well,” he said. “The truth is, I’m hiding from someone and I needed a quick distraction to deter her.”

  Anne was even more confused. They were in the garden; if anyone were to look out the windows on this side of the house, they would be easily identified and seen. Other guests were milling about as they were.

  “We’re in plain view of the house, if you were unaware.”

  “Oh, I had every intention of being seen with you. When I’m avoiding someone, being in the company of an unmarried lady ought to give her the sense that I’m unavailable. Which I am.”

  “I see. Who are we speaking of?”

  He smiled and glanced over at someone just under the willow tree, then said through his teeth, “The bane of my existence.”

  Anne was about to turn, but he stopped her. “No, don’t look. Christ, you’ll only draw her attention.”

  Still, Anne couldn’t help but quickly glance. She saw what was, to her surprise, not a monstrous beast, but a lovely young girl with brown hair who was trying and failing not to look their way.

  And she seemed . . .

  Yes. That was yearning. Anne knew it so well. God help a girl once it sank its barbs into her heart, for ridding oneself of the ache was misery. What a burden to have a heart so heavy at such a young age. It occurred to Anne that perhaps women would not be so weighed down by longing if things came easier. If they could move about as freely as men.

  Anne, after all, would not be here if she had such independence.

  “I can’t imagine what has you so afraid of that girl,” Anne murmured. “She seems utterly harmless.”

  “The ruthless ones always do,” he muttered. Then: “But it occurs to me you would know quite a bit about that, lying to Granby the way you have.”

  She smiled at the amusement in his voice. “You may consider me harmless if it suits you.”

  He stared at her. “Good god, it’s a shame you’re so set on Granby. You’re rather well suited to Grey. Did he teach you?”

  “My father is a politician, my lord. I could not grow up in such a household learning nothing from him.”

  “So you’re saying you are secretly ruthless.”

  Less than a month ago, she would have said no. But she was ruthless now, wasn’t she? Perhaps not in the way of her father — she did not toy with men like a cat with a mouse — but she was using the skills he had taught her. Only now it was for her benefit, to begin a life where she would not have to use such cruel methods. Her ruthlessness was a means to an end — not for power or greed, but to escape. For survival.

  Such skills were all women had in this world.

  “Perhaps,” she said in a low voice. “But you seem to know a thing or two about ruthlessness, don’t you? I was warned about your reputation.”

  His smile was lazy. “From Caroline, I suspect. What did she say?”

  “Oh, nothing of substance. She referred to you as a rake, a rogue, a libertine, and a blackguard all in one explanation. I found it rather amusing.”

  “Yes, my cousin compliments me quite prettily, doesn’t she?”

  Anne laughed. “Strange that a man with such a reputation is hiding from a woman.”

  Montgomery studiously ignored the woman in question and smiled at another debutante on the opposite side of the garden. The girl blushed and whispered to her companion. They both giggled.

  “She’s had an infatuation with me for years. I’m trying to save her.”

  “From you?”

  “From herself,” he corrected. “You see, I’ve no interest in marriage. It wouldn’t do to give her any hope.”

  “Nor me, I suppose.”

  He seemed surprised again by her honesty. “That’s what I like about you, Miss Sheffield. Get beyond those lies and you’re refreshingly candid.”

  Anne leaned to touch one of the roses beside them — pink. Lovely. The garden was so full of them that the fragrance filled the air. “If you appreciate candidness, then know I am on the lookout for a husband.” When his smile froze in place, she flashed a grin. “Settle yourself. I’ve no intention of pursuing any man with no interest in a bride. Especially not one who is hiding something.”

  Montgomery didn’t bother to correct her. He only gave her some small smile, one that didn’t reflect in his eyes. “Granby, then?”

  “Granby,” she confirmed softly. “Though I would appreciate you not letting him know.”

  He seemed almost puzzled. “He’s not — Miss Sheffield, I doubt he’d appreciate such candor. The marquess isn’t . . .”

  “He’s not ruthless,” Anne finished for him. Now he was warning her, too. For a man who inspired such an obloquy from the duchess — rake, rogue, libertine, blackguard, indeed — he was shockingly kind. “No, he isn’t. But sometimes we’re not given the benefit of a choice, my lord.” Before he could ask what she meant, Anne backed away. She couldn’t linger here with him any longer without inciting gossip. “If you require hiding again, please don’t use me. Your lady could do with some honesty, not saving.”

  Chapter 15

  Richard had barely seen Anne all day. Between Granby, Montgomery, Caroline, and the other debutantes seeking his attention, he’d had no opportunity to speak with her.

  Earlier, when Richard had sought her out in the garden, she was discussing something intently with Montgomery. And despite Richard being seated beside her at dinner, Granby had commanded the whole of her attention.

  Richard had craved a look, or some secret smile to indicate he occupied her thoughts. Then, just before the second course, he’d received his proof: the soft graze of her fingertips along the back of his knuckles.

  A small message, just for him.

  Later, when they rose from the dinner table and joined the others in the drawing room for games, he’d become emboldened. As he slipped past her, he’d dared to touch his lips to her nape.

  The hitch of her breath had thrilled him. The next moment, they were once again surrounded by guests, and she had returned to converse with Granby.

  A rustle in the hall startled him from the memory. A moment later, a note slid under the door. Richard plucked it off the carpet and opened it.

  Cottage. 20 minutes.

  — A

  That single note was all it took to have Richard grinning like a bloody fool.

  The cottage glowed with candlelight by the time Richard arrived. The trees on the property were so quiet that he could hear Anne humming inside as she busied herself with something or other. He couldn’t wait to see what it was. He couldn’t—

  Richard paused at the threshold.

  Not for you.

  No matter how many hidden touches or kisses or looks, she was not for him.

  He suddenly recalled her last rule from the train: after this house party, they would act as strangers. He would pretend not to know her.

  How had she carved out a space in his life with seemingly little effort, that he counted the hours until they would be alone again? How had she accomplished so much in a matter of days?

  Were he a superstitious man, he would have considered it enchantment, witchcraft. But those were only words for the sort of longing that seemed, at first, to be inexplainable. It wasn’t magic that compelled him to come here tonight. Her note was no witchery.

  The truth was so much simpler: it was the most natural thing in the world to want her.

  Richard must have made some noise, because Anne called out, “Richard? Is that you?”

  He let himself in. “Yes. My apologies for being late.”

  Anne’s smile was so bright that his breath caught. That had been the expression he’d spoken of last night in bed; it could make a man go weak from wanting her.

  “That’s all right.” She held up a garden mallet. “So tell me, how does one go about playing croquet?”

  Richard couldn’t help but laugh. “So that’s why you’ve brought me here? A midnight game of garden croquet?”

  “Cottage croquet,” she corrected. “It’s too dark
outside and Caroline scheduled a game for tomorrow afternoon. She’s letting us borrow the mallets and balls for practice.”

  “You’ve never played?”

  “No.” She looked down at the mallet she was holding. “My father did not appreciate games, at least other than political ones. He felt they were a waste of time.”

  “Anne.” He closed the distance between them. “You won’t be the only one learning tomorrow. You needn’t have worried.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t focus on learning when I need to be charming. Not when—” She pressed her lips together.

  “What?”

  “If the gentlemen here are interested in finding a wife, it’s going to take more time than I have to convince them. Montgomery, for his part, was at least upfront that matrimony was the last thing on his mind.”

  So that’s what they’d been discussing in the garden. Richard was glad he didn’t have to threaten the earl with bodily injury. That had a way of ruining a friendship.

  “I’m so damn sorry, Anne.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “This thins the herd. Granby is in the market for a bride. He may not be the most ideal conversationalist, but he’s kind and safe. So I’ll double my efforts there.”

  Christ, Richard thought. His heart kicked in his chest at her words. Kind and safe. They were such simple requisites — the barest minimum of how a gentleman should treat a lady — and yet she regarded them as extraordinary qualities.

  Did she not understand that she deserved more? Kindness and safety were a base standard, an insult to a woman who ought to expect the moon.

  Hell, she should expect the stars while she was at it. The galaxy, for good measure.

  “And passion? Desire?” Richard couldn’t help but ask. “What of those?”

  Anne lowered her gaze. “Appreciated, of course. But ultimately not necessary.”

  “Not necessary?”

  “Don’t sound so put out with me, Richard. I don’t need those things in my marriage. I’ve told you what I’m looking for. I’ve been very clear.”

  No wind rustled the trees outside. No rain beat against the roof. The silence was so shockingly loud that it seemed to roar.