An Affair to Remember
Page 5
Blithely unaware of Anthony’s dour thoughts, Sir Phineas leaned back in his chair, lacing his hands over his stomach. “I’ve been busy this month. Want to know what I’ve been doing?”
“The last I heard, you were distributing pamphlets on the importance of curtailing the breeding habits of the lower classes.”
Sir Phineas waved a blue-veined hand in the air. “I’ve found a better answer to societal woes.”
“Oh?”
The old man flashed a mischievous grin, opened a box on a side table, and withdrew a small, slender yellow bag tied on one end with a pink ribbon. “Here is the answer to every problem the earth faces—famine, disease, pestilence, and sloth.”
Anthony looked at the bag. After a moment, he muttered, “Good God.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“A French sheath, used to prevent pregnancy.”
“I have almost two hundred,” Sir Phineas said proudly.
“How…delightful. I hope you don’t mind, but just, ah, what do you propose to do with them?”
“Convince the crown to distribute them freely to the population. I delivered one to the Prince Regent myself. Seeing as he’s fathered an unusual number of brats off that married woman, Mrs. Fitzgerald, I thought perhaps he didn’t know what one was.”
“I’m sure Prinny was impressed with your thoughtfulness.”
Sir Phineas made a sound of disgust as he replaced the French sheath in the drawer. “Prinny’s a fool. The old king, now there was a man. He would have taken action. Pity he’s gone mad.”
“Indeed,” Anthony said politely, wondering if Anna was ever going to arrive. His irritation was increasing by the moment.
Sir Phineas leaned forward, his gaze bright. “What I really need is someone to back my plan. Someone who could invest a certain sum in providing more French sheaths for the population.”
Bloody hell, the man could not be serious.
Sir Phineas nodded sagely. “I can see you’re struck by the thought of being able to do so much good. It’s a heady responsibility, but I think you’re up to it.”
“I’m afraid you misunderstand—”
“Want to know what benefits you’ll get? Fame, my dear sir. Fame and the satisfying knowledge that you have altered the course of history.”
“How generous of you to offer such an opportunity,” Anthony said dryly.
“Oh, don’t thank me! I’m perfectly comfortable to stand in the background and let you take all the credit. I’ve no wish to be a hero.”
Anthony was trying to think of an acceptable answer when the door opened and Miss Thraxton entered. Dressed in a pale blue morning dress edged with pink rosettes, her hair artfully curled on top of her head, her white skin gleaming delicately, she looked like no governess Anthony had ever seen. She was the epitome of fashion, an undoubted lady of quality, the warm smile on her lips brightening the entire room. Had it not been for her remarkable nose, she would have been astonishingly beautiful.
She stopped when she saw him, her smile dying an immediate death. “Greyley. When did you arrive?”
“Just now.” He stood. “I have been having the most delightful conversation with your grandfather.”
Her gaze flickered to Sir Phineas, and Anthony thought he detected a hint of irritation in her gray eyes. “Grandpapa, why didn’t you send for me when Lord Greyley arrived?”
“I knew you were on your way. Besides, the earl and I had a lot to talk about. But now I’m tired.” He stood, yawning as he did so. “If you two will excuse me, I think I’ll take a nap.”
“I thought you needed these,” Anna said stiffly, holding out a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles.
“So I do.” Sir Phineas took the glasses and tucked them in his pocket. “I might want to read a bit before I go to sleep.” He sent a piercing glance at Anthony. “I look forward to speaking to you more later, young man.”
Anthony bowed politely. “I look forward to it.”
Miss Thraxton moved to one side to let her grandfather pass. The light from the window touched her skirts with gold and briefly illuminated the fascinating shape of her legs. Good God, they were endless. Endless and shapely and—
Anthony caught Sir Phineas’s amused glance. Damn it, what was he thinking? He was here to offer the chit a position as governess in his household and nothing else. “Sir Phineas, please feel free to stay. Miss Thraxton and I just have some business to conclude and—”
Sir Phineas waved a hand. “You don’t need me. Anna’s no pink and white miss. She can handle herself.” A sly smile touched the old man’s lips as he opened the door. “If you don’t believe me, ask Lord Northland.”
With this cryptic statement, Sir Phineas left, closing the door behind him. Anthony listened to the sounds of the cane steadily thumping along the corridor. After a moment, he glanced at Miss Thraxton, who stood planted in the center of the room, her back so straight he wondered if she wore a brace. To ease the moment, he asked, “Who is Lord Northland and why do I feel that I should pity him?”
“Lord Northland is of no consequence.” She crossed her arms under her chest, the gesture pressing her breasts upward. “So, Greyley, you need a governess.”
Anthony had to force himself to look elsewhere. Anna Thraxton was far too attractive to be a governess. Or would be, if one liked women who possessed far too many opinions of their own. “Miss Thraxton, let us come to the point. You are a governess; I would like to hire you.” There. Now all he needed to do was find out her salary requirements and—
“I’m afraid I cannot. As I told you last night, I am already employed. However, I would be glad to recommend another—”
“Miss Thraxton, I need you at Greyley House, not some milksop female unable to deal with the slightest upset.”
She jutted her chin mutinously, her eyes sparking with anger. “You may be king of the roost at your house, but here you are nothing more than another person looking for a governess. One of many, I might add.”
He had no doubt that the desperate parents and guardians of London were flocking to Miss Thraxton’s door; he himself was testament to that. But no one needed the best governess in London as much as he for no one had as much to prove. Anthony stifled his impatience. “It doesn’t matter who I am—I need you, Miss Thraxton. And I’m willing to pay.”
“You don’t have enough money to employ me.”
“Everyone has a price. Even you.”
She made a disgusted sound. “You are the most insufferable, pompous, irritating man I’ve ever met.”
“And you, Miss Thraxton, are the most infuriating, maddening, annoying woman in all of England. But I’m willing to overlook that unfortunate fact because you’re also supposedly the best governess to be had. And make no mistake,” he growled, stalking closer until he stood not a foot in front of her, “I intend to have you. Now cease this foolishness and tell me your requirements.” Good Lord, was he going to have to battle her every step of the way?
Her chin lifted to an even more mutinous angle, her mouth thin with anger. “I was willing to assist you in locating a suitable replacement, but if you cannot at least pretend to be pleasant, then I have nothing more to say.”
Anthony’s temper flared. By God, he hadn’t come to London for his health. “You haven’t heard me out.”
“I’ve heard more than I wanted to,” she said. “Please leave before I call the butler.”
Anthony closed the narrow space between them, his body all but touching hers. “Then call him.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, hissing the words through her teeth.
Her chin lifted and, before Anthony could comprehend what she was about, she opened her mouth and called loudly, “Hawk—”
Anthony grabbed her. His only thought was to keep her from making such a racket that she brought the entire household into the sitting room. But the frustrating events of the morning and the sudden, enthralling feel of her full breasts pressed against his chest cracked the vene
er of Anthony’s calm logic and released a torrent of pent-up emotions, emotions that flared to life all too quickly around the fiery-headed woman he now held in his arms.
Thus it was that Anthony Elliot, the always proper ninth Earl of Greyley, did something he never did. He lost control of his carefully contained anger and kissed the woman he wanted to hire as a governess.
Chapter 4
I will never again play cards with Lord Greyley. There is no lower feeling than dealing to a man who never loses.
Lord Brevenham to Miss Devonshire, over an ice at the Waltham musicale
Of all the stolen kisses Anna had been made to suffer since becoming a governess, Greyley’s was different. It wasn’t apologetic or furtive, but forthright and passionate. It stormed the frigid barriers she’d erected about herself and shattered her illusion of control, burning a way past her shocked defenses before she could do more than gasp.
Anna responded immediately, though not in the way she should have. Instead of doubling her hands into fists, she found herself clutching Greyley’s lapels, pulling him closer. As he deepened the kiss, his mouth searing across hers, she moaned softly, the sound delicious and wanton, urging her on.
And why not? the heated part of her wondered. Why not taste just this one, tiny bit of pleasure? She deserved it. The part of her that lusted after the feel of raw silk, that reveled in the glitter of a diamond pin, that unabashedly desired finery and pleasure and fun—it wound its way through her, heightening her senses, and completely silencing the other, more logical part that mumbled a warning of some sort, the incoherent thought lost as Greyley’s tongue slid across Anna’s lower lip. The erotic gesture sent a shudder of delight straight to her toes.
One of the brass buttons that adorned his waistcoat brushed the bared skin at her throat. The cold metal chilled her reactions, and Anna broke the embrace. Here she was, kissing a man as if she—and it was Greyley, which made it all the worse. “Heavens!” she heard herself say. The room was awhirl with color and silence, her mouth and cheeks tingled as if they’d both been assaulted by the earl’s talented lips.
“Heaven, indeed,” Greyley murmured. His gaze was fastened on her mouth, a disturbing glint in his dark gaze. “Congratulations, Thraxton. You are indeed as fiery as you look.”
Anna thought she could hear a dismissal in his tone and she stiffened, her heart lurching. By God, she wouldn’t be made a fool of—not this time. “Fiery? I only wish I could say the same of you,” she managed to puff out. “I’ve been better kissed by the footman.”
The statement shocked her as much as it did Greyley. His brows snapped down. “Been kissing the footman, have you? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Anna didn’t know about that—she was certainly surprised at the information, especially as they didn’t even have a footman. She ran her fingers over her bottom lip and tried to clear her mind. When had Greyley learned to kiss in such an expert manner?
She burned to realize what he must think of her wanton response. She’d never allowed anyone such liberties before. It must be because he was Sara’s brother. Anna had known Greyley for years, and though their discourse had never been easy, they had always managed to ignore the heated discord that echoed between them. Until now. “I don’t know why that happened—”
“I do,” he said. “I know exactly why it happened.”
To Anna’s unease, a touch of humor lit his gaze. “What?”
“You provoked me.”
“I did no such thing!” she sputtered, anger burning away the last remaining vestige of desire. “How like a man to say such a thing.”
“And then you provoked me once more when you compared my embrace to that of your footman’s.” A faint hint of a grin touched his mouth. “I’m tempted to kiss you again just to prove you wrong.”
If Greyley was attractive even when he was ordering her about, he was devastating when he teased. She took an instinctive step back. “Don’t you dare.”
“I would indeed dare if I didn’t think your grandfather would burst into the room and demand I marry you.”
Good God, not content to insult her by calling her a governess in that superior tone of voice, now he dared suggest that she might try and trick him into marriage. It was almost more than Anna could stand. “Don’t worry about my grandfather. He is much more freethinking than that. Furthermore, I have no wish to marry you. Not now. Not ever. Perhaps this happened just to show us why we shouldn’t be under the same roof. I can never work for—”
“You have no choice.”
“What do you mean I have no choice? Of course I have a choice!”
“Thraxton, calm down and hear me out. I came here to conduct a business arrangement. Nothing more. I have no designs on your virtue.”
“Good,” she said, telling herself that the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach was not disappointment, but rather relief. Despite her irritation, she had to marvel at his air of assurance. Anna suspected that part of Greyley’s arrogance came from getting everything he wanted. He was one of those people who forced circumstances and people to his path. It was high time he realized that real life was much harsher than the charmed existence he’d led so far.
She plastered a polite expression on her face, folded her hands neatly in front of her, and said, “Lord Greyley, there is no need to continue this conversation. Lord Allencott is expecting me to—”
“I know, you told me yesterday. I am willing to pay twice what he has offered.”
The arrogant ass didn’t even bother to ask how much Allencott had agreed to pay. Fortunately, Anna had worked with enough spoiled children that she found dealing with a pompous earl less than a challenge. “Lord Allencott was going to pay me two hundred pounds for three months’ service.”
“Then four hundred pounds it is. I will send a carriage for you in the morning. It is imperative that the children—”
“You cannot be serious,” Anna said, struggling for breath. “You would pay four hundred pounds for only three months’ service? Just like that?”
“Ah. I see your point.”
He should. She’d lied about Allencott’s wages; he’d agreed to pay her only a hundred pounds, and at the time she’d thought it a fortune. “Lord Greyley, I’m certain you’ll find another governess who will—”
“Three months will not be nearly enough. I’ll need you for at least a year.”
She slowly counted to ten. “Greyley, you don’t understand. I cannot—”
“It is you who do not comprehend the situation. These children are not your normal terrors. No governess, no matter how talented, could change the comportment of these unruly whelps in such a short time.”
Anna gave him a wintry smile. “Lord Greyley, I have never failed to improve the behavior of my charges.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Miss Thraxton. But then I knew you would. Five hundred pounds, but no more.”
Five…hundred…pounds. Anna swallowed. “For three months?”
“Of course,” he said impatiently. “That is far more than I’ve paid any governess. I’m certain it’s more than you’ve ever earned.”
Sweet heavens, it was a fortune. If she could last under Greyley’s roof for just two quarters, she’d have enough money to see Grandpapa established in the style in which he was accustomed, at least for a while. Several years, in fact. The thought was so tantalizing that she forgot to voice whatever protests she might have.
In typical Greyley fashion, he took her silence for agreement and turned toward the door. “I’ll see you in the morning, Miss Thraxton. The carriage will be here at nine.”
Anna blinked. “Wait! As much as I wish it otherwise, I am honor-bound to fulfill my duties to Lord Allencott.”
“Stop fretting. I’ve already taken care of the matter.”
Foreboding filled her. “I beg your pardon?”
His self-satisfied expression was dangerously near being a smirk. “I ran into Allencott yesterday and I told him you would not
be accepting his offer.”
“You…you didn’t.” Anna closed her eyes and pressed her fingers over them. “Please tell me you are teasing.”
“Of course I’m not teasing. I went looking for him after the Dandridges’ soirée. I told him you would be taking employment at Greyley House.”
“You—you—” Anna’s temples throbbed wildly and she was assailed with an almost uncontrollable urge to hurl a vase at Greyley’s thick head.
“Allencott was most understanding. After all, my situation is much more urgent than his. He has two children, I have five.” He looked blessedly pleased with himself, full of masculine logic and stubborn pride.
“Lord Greyley, if you run roughshod over your charges the way you have been attempting to run over me, then it is no wonder they are in an uproar.”
“Roughshod?” Greyley’s brows lowered. “I was assisting you. It was a damnable nuisance having to track down Allencott. Then I had to sit and talk to him for almost half an hour, and the man is an unbearable bore. I can think of at least twenty other things I would have rather been doing.” Greyley’s dark gaze ran over her once again. “Make that twenty-one.”
“Oh, just stop it,” Anna snapped, though her body heated in instant response. She supposed she didn’t have any choice—thanks to the purchase of that silly gown, she was horribly short on funds, and by now Allencott would have found another governess. Anna closed her lips over the irate comment she would like to make and silently conjugated four Latin verbs, a trick she’d learned when dealing with especially recalcitrant children. She was in the middle of conjugating amo when her breathing returned to normal and she was able to say with some equanimity, “Greyley, let us understand one another. If I accept this position, there are certain rules that must be followed.”
“Such as?”
“Never again will you speak for me. I should have been the one to contact Lord Allencott, not you. I have a professional reputation to maintain.”