by Cheryl Bolen
Anna turned her attention to her mother-in-law. "You must be overjoyed that James is coming home, Mother."
A wistful smile swept across the dowager's face. "That I am. Sons are a woman's greatest blessing."
Acting upon her mother-in-law's mellow mood, Anna begged the woman to be her partner at whist after dinner. Not liking to lose, the dowager accepted Anna's offer. Lydia readily made a third, against her brother's suggestion that she entertain the squire.
"I would far rather play cards," Lydia said, "but I welcome the squire as my partner."
The sun-darkened skin crinkled around Ainsley's hazel eyes as he chuckled. "I thank you for the invitation, Lady Lydia, but I've never been able to master the game. I would be most happy to watch you and your brother. Perhaps I can learn."
Haverstock muttered under his breath as he took a seat at the card table. A very poor host indeed he was to John Ainsley, claiming Lydia for his own partner and depriving Ainsley of a chance to speak privately with her.
He dealt the cards and was surprised that Ainsley still stood behind Lydia's chair, studying how she arranged her hand. Ainsley was a good man. He would treat Lydia well. And most importantly, tonight he had completely ignored a table full of beauties – two of them quite eligible – to direct his every attention on Lydia.
Lydia deserved that kind of devotion. By God, he hoped the man succeeded in his suit. Even though Haverstock would dreadfully miss Lydia. He had been closer to her than he had ever been to any woman. Until Anna.
Just as he was discovering his complete satisfaction with the married state, he realized his bride was a French spy.
A quick glance at his hand revealed that he would be able to control trump. It wasn't matrimony he had come to enjoy. It was Anna. Not just her great beauty. The sound of her sweet voice, her gentle yet passionate lovemaking that had completely enslaved him. And most of all, he had rather liked the heady feeling of possession Anna solicited in him. He enjoyed worrying about her and feeling protective toward her.
Now, he had to forget any affection he held for the harpy. Because of her, Pierre Chassay was dead.
He felt the brush of Anna's leg against his, and involuntarily intook a deep breath. He would have to avoid being close to her. Her very touch weakened him.
Anna and his mother won the first hand, which increased his mother's good humor.
Ainsley still stood directly behind Lydia's chair.
"Have you been to Hyde Park?" Anna asked the squire.
The corner of Haverstock's mouth lifted to a smile. So his wife was going to do her best to promote a courtship between Lydia and Ainsley.
"No, I haven't yet, though I would beg to claim Lady Lydia to ride with me tomorrow afternoon." He smiled down at the top of her black hair.
Lydia did not even look up. "I'm afraid I've promised to chaperon Anna and Morgie tomorrow."
"What she means," Haverstock explained, "is that my friend Ralph Morgan has kindly agreed to take my wife to the park because I am much too busy. Lydia accompanies them for propriety. However, I find that I am able to take Anna myself tomorrow, so you are free to ride with John, Lydia."
Now, Lydia bestowed a smile on her old neighbor.
Haverstock tossed out the wrong card and silently cursed himself. Not only was he playing foolishly, now when he least wanted her company, he had promised to take Anna to the park.
Allowing her husband to assist her onto the gig, Anna hoped he did not notice the dark half moons under her eyes. She had lain awake all night, longing to take the few steps that would bring her to his room, to his strong arms. Not only was her heart bruised, but she physically ached to be held in her husband's solid embrace. There was nothing she wouldn't do to earn his affection. Except go to his room like a beggar.
They followed the rig Ainsley had profusely made excuses for. "I know it's not as grand as you're used to," he had said apologetically while Lydia had assured him of its suitability.
During the silent ride Anna watched the grim set to her husband's face.
She was unable to chide him for his coolness toward her. If her suspicions about why Jimmy was sacked were correct, she had truly earned her husband's loathing.
This morning she had endeavored to learn Jimmy's address, but the head groom had informed her Jimmy had gone to his cousin's in Kent. Apparently, Jimmy had an open offer of employment at the establishment where his cousin was employed. However, the head groom had no idea the name of the establishment. Anna was thankful she had pressed a handful of coins on Jimmy, supposedly for tolls, the day before he received the ax.
"You know," Anna said to her husband, "Lydia and the squire will not suit."
He turned surprised eyes on her. "My wife is not only an expert at cards, dancing, and fashion, but she is also clairvoyant."
Anna laughed. "One does not have to be clairvoyant to see what's as plain as the nose on your face."
"Then you must know John Ainsley would make Lydia a worthy husband," Haverstock said.
"Oh, I will not deny that. And I am sure he would be pleased with her performance as his wife."
Haverstock turned on to the most heavily traveled lane. "But?"
"I think he would bore Lydia excessively. Think on it."
Her husband apparently took her advice, for he remained silent for several minutes.
"Before we married," Anna said, trying to topple the wall that had erected between them, "did you bring young ladies here?"
He did not answer for a moment. "I suppose I did."
"I shall be very jealous," she said, her lips forming a pout.
"Would that I had married one of them and saved myself from an almond-eyed vixen," he muttered ruefully.
Anna felt as if her heart had been torn from her chest.
She watched as Ainsley turned his curricle on to a little traveled lane and knew that was where he had chosen to propose to Lydia.
"To mimic my sister Lydia," Anna said flippantly, "shall we take wagers on Lydia's answer?"
"Five quid says she accepts," he said.
"It's a bet!"
Chapter 21
Lydia came early to Anna's room the next afternoon.
"Morgie won't be here for half an hour," Anna said, motioning for Lydia to sit beside her. "Let's talk."
"I confess I desire private conversation with you," Lydia confided.
"You've asked Mr. Ainsley for time to consider his offer?"
Lydia's black eyes clouded. "You know?"
"Of course," Anna said, smiling. "Being ever-so-proper, the amiable Mr. Ainsley first solicited your brother's permission to call upon you. And besides, anyone with eyes in their head could see how besotted Mr. Ainsley was over you at dinner the other night."
"Then I must have very poor eyes, indeed," Lydia said in a low voice. "He quite surprised me with his offer."
"Have you decided when you will give him an answer?"
Lydia nodded. "I will tell him tonight."
"Then – -then, you've decided?"
"Oh, yes. I shall have to accept. You see, it's my first proposal. I shan't be able to wait thirty more years for another, and I should very much like to be married, to be mistress of my own home, to have children."
"You are on good terms with the squire's children?"
"Very good. I am flattered that he would entrust their care to me, for he's a very devoted father."
"He will make a dutiful husband."
"To be sure," Lydia said, her eyelids downcast, her voice scratchy.
"Of course, you're not in love with him."
"Perhaps that will come," Lydia said, trying to sound cheerful. "And even if it doesn't, I will have far more than I ever thought to have." She straightened her shoulders and forced a smile. "What does Charles think of the offer?"
"He thinks Mr. Ainsley's judgment most superior, and he is determined the man will treat you like a princess."
Lydia threw back her head and laughed. "Bless Charles!"
Ann
a took Lydia's hand. "There is no one else, is there, Lydia?"
"Why, of course not." She did not sound convincing.
"You've never fancied yourself in love?"
"If you know me as well as you think you do, dear sister, then you know I am much too practical to go about swooning over unattainable men. My eyes are good enough that I know the woman who faces me in the looking glass is not close to being tolerably attractive."
Anna could not argue with Lydia's assessment of her appearance. "It is true that your stature is somewhat larger than the accepted mode, but you have many fine features."
"Pray, enlighten me."
"Your hair is a rich black, like a rook in sunshine. If you took more pains with its styling, I believe you could look like a Grecian goddess."
Lydia laughed out loud.
"Do take me seriously. You also have very fine eyes. I ought to know. They're exactly like Charles'. One look into his eyes, and I'm his slave." Only to Lydia could Anna be completely honest.
"What a fine notion! Do you think Ainsley will be my slave?"
"I can not imagine the two of you being anything more than amiable. Can you see yourself sharing your innermost thoughts with the squire?"
"Goodness no!" Lydia clasped her fingers about her neck. "The man is far too polite. How wicked he would think me if he heard my sharp-tongued musings on half the people to whom I am acquainted."
Anna appraised Lydia's figure, what could be seen of it in the brown serge gown that did a thorough job of covering it. "It is my opinion, he admires your body."
Lydia blushed crimson. Though low cut dresses were in vogue, she avoided wearing them, tending to dress like someone's maiden aunt or gentlewoman's companion.
"You do possess a bosom any woman would covet. You should divulge more of it."
"I should feel like a doxy!"
"No one will ever take you for a doxy, Lydia."
"If I'm going to be betrothed, I suppose I am going to have to allow you to help me select a suitable trousseau."
"With pleasure. Now, before we go to the East End, I would like you to allow Colette to arrange your hair fashionably."
Anna knew Charles would not come to her chamber when he came home. He would go to his dressing room and don fresh clothing for the Taylors' ball, avoiding any private conversation with her.
When she heard him talking with Manors in the adjoining chamber, she quietly opened the door, greeted both gentlemen, then walked up and placed five pounds in her husband's hand. "It seems you won the wager, my lord."
Wearing a freshly ironed shirt and gray breeches, Haverstock looked from his hand to his wife's face, realization dawning. "So our loss will be Ainsley's gain."
Anna nodded.
His mouth set in a grim line, he said, "I will make the announcement at dinner."
Before dinner, Lydia met with Ainsley in her brother's library, freeing Haverstock to announce the nuptials over the dining table where the newly betrothed couple stood somewhat awkwardly while the family toasted them.
Even in his enthusiastic toast, Haverstock's face bore no sign of happiness. Indeed, none of the family showed signs of elation over Lydia's engagement. Cynthia burst into tears. "What are we going to do without Lydia?" she asked, her voice muffled with sobs. "This is so sudden."
Anna suspected Captain Smythe's failure to make Cynthia an offer brought on her tears as much as attachment to Lydia.
"Wouldn't it have been nice to have had a double wedding?" Kate asked, placing a bejeweled hand on Mr. Reeves' arm. "But we'll be wed before your bans are posted."
Now two of Charles' sisters were embarking on misalliances, Anna thought with sadness. She shot a glance to the end of the table where her own husband sat, and her heart constricted. It wasn't just his size that gave Haverstock commanding presence. Everything in his dark good looks – the stern cut of his square jaw, the wisdom in his black eyes, the strength of his magnificent body – exuded authority. Anna realized she had no right to judge anyone's choice of husbands. She certainly had not married for love. And for all she knew, her husband still could be a French spy. More the pity. For now she would probably love him were he a homicidal maniac – though she could not seriously imagine him doing anything that was not honorable.
If only she could prove that Sir Henry – and not her husband – was the French spy.
But the truth was no more attainable than Charles' love, she lamented.
Anna noticed the dowager's disposition had taken a marked turn for the better in the past two days. Was it because James was coming home? A contented smile softened her black eyes at the announcement Lydia would be taken down off the shelf.
"I must say, Lydia," Kate offered, "your hair looks uncommonly good tonight."
Lydia beamed at Anna. "Anna's Colette arranged it for me."
"They do well by you, Lydia," Haverstock said.
"Tomorrow Anna and I will go to Madame Devreaux's for my trousseau."
"Do you mean Anna knew about the engagement before your very own mother?" the dowager demanded.
"I am afraid, Mother," Haverstock intervened, "the close friendship between Anna and Lydia excludes most of us. The two share many things we are not privy to."
The dowager gave a snort. "Like those afternoon romps. One would think they were going to a leper colony."
"I feel so very fortunate Anna has come into our family," Lydia said.
Squire Ainsley lifted Lydia's hand and placed a kiss on it. "Not nearly so fortunate as I that you are coming to mine."
Color rose to Lydia's cheeks.
Following dinner, they rode in two carriages to the Taylors' ball. Lydia and the squire rode in Haverstock's, and Kate, Cynthia and Charlotte rode in Mr. Reeve's.
"I beg that you not ask me to stand up with you, squire," Lydia said on the way to the ball. "I am a most deplorable dancer."
Taking her hand in his, the squire said, "Please, call me John. And I am pleased you are not partial to dancing because I fear I have two left feet."
Looking at the pair across from her in the dimly lit carriage, Anna wished Lydia wore a more lovely dress. The drab green was serviceable, but a special night like this called for an elegant dress.
"I wonder if Captain Smythe will be at the ball," Lydia said.
"One wonders if he will ever come up to scratch with Cynthia," Anna said. "What do you think, Charles?"
In his brooding mood again, Haverstock hugged the side of the carriage, not even allowing his leg to touch her skirts. He met her gaze. "Pardon?"
"Do you think Captain Smythe will offer for Cynthia?"
"I don't know that I've ever given it a thought," he said stiffly. "I daresay the matter is between Cynthia and the captain."
"I think he's behaved shamefully," Lydia said. "All these weeks he's been leading Cynthia on. Everyone expects a declaration any day. As pretty as she is, no other man will even come close to her. And now the captain's become conspicuously absent."
"Shameful, indeed," the squire uttered.
Though it was late in the Season, the crowd at the Taylors' was the largest Anna had seen. Haverstock and Anna led the newly betrothed couple around, introducing the squire to everyone as Lydia's fiancé.
After spending over an hour on introductions, the gentlemen settled Anna and Lydia at chairs against a wall in the ballroom and went to procure refreshments.
Vigorously fanning herself against the room's stifling heat, Anna did not notice Sir Henry had walked up to claim her for a dance. A frown on her face, she slowly closed her fan and rose to her feet, stiffly offering him her hand.
"How delightful it is to see you tonight, Lady Haverstock," Sir Henry said, leading her on to the dance floor.
Anna did not respond.
Since the dance was a waltz, he gathered her into his arms and whispered, "Have you found out the information we need so desperately?"
"My husband tells me nothing, and if he did, I would not tell you."
"What ab
out Ralph Morgan? I see you two together every afternoon at Hyde Park. I think you could get anything you want from the man."
"You mistake the matter," Anna said with vehemence. "Mr. Morgan escorts me out of friendship to my husband."
"Mr. Morgan is noted for having an eye for beautiful women, Anna. And in case you have not looked in your glass lately, you are incredibly beautiful."
"I assure you Mr. Morgan is completely oblivious to any beauty I might possess." Anna saw her husband return to where she had been sitting, holding two drinks in his hand. He scanned the dance floor until he saw her. Then he stiffened.
At that moment Lady Jane, wearing a heavily embroidered ivory gown, walked up to him, bowed low to say something to Lydia, then straightened up again and spoke to Haverstock, an angelic smile on her face. Anna's stomach plummeted when she saw her husband give Lady Jane the drink he had brought for her.
The dance seemed interminably long, and Anna discouraged conversation with Sir Henry. She could not take her eyes off Haverstock and Lady Jane. Why wouldn't the woman leave? Now she was fanning herself. The next thing Anna knew, Lady Jane acted as if she were going to swoon. Only Anna was sure it was feigned to solicit Haverstock's interest.
He gently took the slim blond by her elbow and led her from the crowded ballroom.
"I see your husband's marriage has done nothing to cool his feelings toward the lovely Lady Jane," Sir Henry said.
So Lady Jane did have a claim on Charles' feeling, Anna thought morosely, unable to respond to Sir Henry.
When the dance was over and Sir Henry restored Anna to her seat by Lydia, Lydia greeted Anna wryly. "Would that I'd had a banana peel to throw at Lady Jane's delicate feet."
A smile crossed Anna's face. "How wicked you are."
"Not as wicked as she. I have never seen a more unbelievable attempt at fainting."