An Affair to Remember

by Karen Hawkins

  He made a disgusted noise. “Hold on to the boat. I’m going to pull you ashore.”

  She did as she was told and he managed to get them back to land without further mishap. The children crowded around as Anna stumbled onto the bank and sank into a heap.

  Sir Phineas bent to peer into her face. “Just breathe,” he said helpfully.

  Anna, struggling to do that very thing, silently wished him to Hades.

  “Miss Thraxton?” Elizabeth said anxiously. She turned wide blue eyes to Anthony, who had come to stand beside her. “Maybe she needs a doctor.”

  “Or a horse,” Selena offered.

  “Why would she need a horse?” Desford demanded.

  “To take her to the house,” Selena said, obviously annoyed she had to explain such a simple idea. “She’s too tired to stand and I don’t think Lord Greyley could carry her. She’s a very big woman.”

  “I’m not big,” Anna said, lifting herself on her elbow and pushing her hair from her face. Of all the indignities, being called fat in front of Lord Greyley was more than she could handle. “I’m just tall. And I’m don’t need a horse. Really. I…I just need to rest.”

  Anthony didn’t comment. There was no denying that her usually pale skin was even whiter than usual.

  An unfamiliar stir of sympathy made Anthony turn to Sir Phineas. “Could you take the children back to the house? I will bring Miss Thraxton as soon as she has regained her breath.”

  “We can’t leave yet,” Selena said, sucking on her finger. “She might throw up.”

  Five hopeful gazes fixed on the governess while Sir Phineas manfully struggled to hide a grin.

  Anna moaned and turned on her side. Sir Phineas hastily took Elizabeth and Selena by the hand and led them away. The other children followed, glancing back with regret. Only Selena voiced an objection, and that was to ask for someone to call them back immediately if Miss Thraxton fell ill.

  Anthony waited patiently. After a moment, she sat up, her breathing more controlled. Her hair was knotted and tangled and a lump of lily pad hung over one ear. The water had darkened her red hair to a deep, rich auburn.

  Anthony watched her, reluctantly admiring her. She’d been so damned determined to find his shoes and spare the children that she’d put herself at risk. He suddenly wondered if this was how she’d managed such success as a governess, by protecting her charges as if they were her own. “Are you better now?”

  She managed to nod. “I think so.”

  He stooped down so that he could see her face. Her dark brown lashes were splayed across her cheeks in perfect, pointed crescents. He reached out and slid a finger over them, disturbing the collected moisture on her cheeks.

  Anna jerked away as if burned. “What are you doing?”

  “Wondering how you can see through such thick lashes. They tangle at the corners, you know.”

  “So do yours,” she replied, then flushed a deep, delightful pink.

  Anthony’s groin tightened. God, but she was a magnificent woman—more woman than he’d ever known.

  She pushed herself to her knees. “I really can swim, you know. It has just been a while.”

  “How long?”

  “I think I was ten. Somehow, I was better at it then.”

  “I daresay you’d remember how if you had more practice.” He stood and held out his hand.

  Without demur, she placed her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. “I don’t know what to say. This is quite awkward.”

  “Drowning usually is.” He watched her mouth press together in a most delightful manner. Though she was thoroughly wet and beginning to sniffle, she still managed to possess an innate elegance. She would make a commanding countess.

  Good God, where had that come from? She might have the air one expected from a countess, but not the manner.

  As if to confirm his thoughts, she pushed her hair from her face, succeeding only in shoving the lily pad to a more prominent position on the top of her head, then said in an ungracious tone, “I suppose I should thank you.”

  “I suppose you should,” he replied. After all, he’d lost his slippers, and his new coat lay in the damp grass. “You should also inquire as to whether I’m injured. You left a footprint on my neck.”

  She bit her lip, though it appeared as if she were more amused than sorry. “I don’t know what came over me—I rarely frighten.”

  “Hm. You didn’t happen to climb trees when you were a child, did you? You have quite a grip for a gently bred lady.”

  Color again bloomed in her cheeks, contrasting with her red hair and the cream of her skin. Anthony thought he’d never seen a more beautiful woman.

  She sniffed. “No, I did not climb trees as a child. I did, however, excel in scaling the trellis outside my window in an attempt to be near the barn at all times. I like to ride and my father was adamant that it should not interfere with my studies.”

  “Ran from the governess, did you?”

  She grinned, her teeth flashing whitely. “Like a hoyden. But it was worth it. I’d have done anything to be with my horse, Princess. She was a beauty.”

  “And yet you refuse to ride with me. I begin to feel slighted.”

  “Only because it would be unbecoming for me to be seen about the countryside with my employer.”

  “Ungrateful brat.”

  “I am not ungrateful, Greyley. In fact, I am fully aware of what I owe you for this morning’s efforts. Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

  “Don’t think about it. Some aspects were quite pleasing.” Like the way her thigh had been so delightfully close to his mouth. The thought sent a pang of heat to his nether regions, and he was damned glad they were in full view of the house, or he might have been tempted to do something about it, to hell with propriety.

  “If there is anything I can do to repay you, I hope you will not hesitate to ask.”

  “You can thank me by going for a ride with me tomorrow morning.” He wanted her alone and in his arms, he realized with sudden clarity. Not that he was searching for a dalliance. Good God, he hoped to be married in three months.

  But still…his gaze slid slowly over Anna. Her wet gown clung lovingly to every curve, making him think of a dozen reasons that he might want to reconsider his “no dalliance” rule.

  She was a sight indeed—tall and slender, with generous breasts and rounded hips that made his groin tighten. Better yet were the long legs he could see clearly outlined by the white muslin—the length and curve of those legs far exceeding even his active imagination. By Zeus, but she was a woman made for passion.

  Anna pulled her skirts to one side and began squeezing water from them, the gesture unintentionally outlining one leg and hip in stark relief. “I am in your employ, Lord Greyley. It is never a good idea to mix with the help.”

  “I will mix when and where I will, thank you.”

  “Earls and governesses do not go for rides together.”

  “According to what rulebook?”

  “According,” she said in a voice he was sure she normally reserved for her pupils, “to the rules of society. I seem to remember you preaching them to your sister not so long ago.”

  “My expectations for my sister and for myself are quite different.”

  “Spoken like a true man.” She shivered as she spoke, and for the first time, Anthony noticed how very transparent muslin became when wet. He could see the outline of her breasts so clearly that his breath thudded to a halt for a moment. Her nipples appeared faintly through the layers of drenched material—large and dark and desirable, perfectly made for his mouth.

  Anthony discovered that it was possible to lose both the power of speech and thought all in the same instant.

  Anna lifted her arms to push her hair back from her face, and Anthony was presented with an even clearer image of what lay beneath the layers of cloth. His body ached with the images and he had to swallow a groan.

  Her hair secured behind her ears, she turned to the house. �
�I need to return to the nursery. The children must answer for this latest escapade. I’ve decided that they will write a letter of apology to both of us and then will do chores to help pay for the replacement of your shoes.”

  Anthony could have told her that it would take the children several years to do that, but he refrained. She was right; the children should be punished and he had to admit she’d thought of a fair method.

  He cleared his throat. “While the children are doing chores, I suppose I will be off riding alone somewhere.” He stared into the distance with what he hoped was a sad expression.

  Anna frowned, her bad mood worsening. She’d been mocked, had almost died, and now had been forced to stand in front of Greyley and pretend she didn’t look like a drowned rat. She pulled her hair to one side and again attempted to twist some of the water from it, only to discover a huge lily pad on her forehead. She pulled it free, embarrassment heating her cheeks. “I am returning to the house.”

  “Don’t you think you owe me something? After all, I saved you, and at great personal cost, too, for I nearly gave up my own life in the process. The least you can do is ride with me.”

  “No rides.”

  “Then I’ll settle for a kiss.”

  It was infuriating the way this man could turn a simple sentence into a lazy challenge. And Anna was not good at passing up a challenge.

  It would be nice to ride with an adult for a change. Lovely, actually. The children were prone to go in different directions, and she spent most of her time trying to keep them all together.

  Anna peered at Greyley from under her lashes. He looked harmless enough. Oh, he was handsome, and charming when he put his mind to it. But he had none of the polished address of the other wasted fribbles she knew. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to go for just one ride. “Oh, very well. But only for a half hour.”

  “Half an hour is hardly long enough to give the poor horse a stretch.”

  “Forty-five minutes and not a moment more.”

  “An hour. I won’t settle for less.”

  Heavens, but the man did not know the meaning of the word “no.” Anna sighed. An hour wasn’t that long, she supposed. She had just opened her mouth to agree, when he added, “Every day for a month.”

  She gaped at him. “You must be joking.”

  “I saved your life,” he reminded her yet again, a very smug grin on his face. His gaze wandered over her face and down to her breasts. Something about the intensity of his expression alerted her, for she followed his gaze and gasped to see how little her wet gown hid. She hurriedly crossed her arms over her chest, but not before Greyley’s grin set her face aflame.

  How she disliked arrogant men. They made for beastly earls and horrid employers. “I will ride with you for half an hour every morning, for one week only. I can’t spare more time than that.”

  He reached out and brushed the backs of his fingers over her wet cheek. “What’s wrong, Thraxton? Afraid to be alone with me?”

  She sniffed. “I’m not afraid of anything. Just don’t expect me to speak. I’m not a witty conversationalist before I’ve had my breakfast.”

  “Of course,” he replied smoothly, as if he didn’t care if she bothered to speak at all. “May I add that I hope you teach the girls how to accept an invitation with better grace than you have shown today?”

  Drat the man! She plopped her hands on her hips. “Lord Greyley, rest assured that the girls will benefit from the time they have spent with me.”

  Too late, she realized that she’d forgotten to cover herself, for his dark brown gaze was once again fastened on her chest. Her temper snapped. “Damn it, Greyley, pay attention! I am speaking, not my breasts.”

  His gaze rose to her face, his eyes hot and brown, his mouth strangely soft. “You may not be able to hear your breasts speaking, but I can.”

  Anna gasped and covered her chest. “That is quite enough.”

  “Indeed it is,” he agreed, taking two swift steps and closing the space between them.

  Anna instinctively moved to retreat, but Greyley reached past her and picked up his coat from the grass. He shook it out, then swung it over her shoulders and pulled it closed.

  “You can’t walk into the house like that. I’d have to fire every footman we’ve got, and Jenkins would not be happy. He’s just trained them.”

  His fingers brushed her chin as he fastened the coat up the front. The gesture was so quixotic, so unlike Greyley, that Anna neither moved nor protested.

  He fastened the last button, then chucked her under the chin as if she were a child of six. “There you are, sweet. That should get you indoors without too much of a bustle.”

  “How chivalrous,” she said, then moved to step away, but Greyley’s notion of chivalry included imprisonment, for he gripped her shoulders and held her fast. She scowled. “Let me go.”

  He smiled then, that indolent smile that was all his. The smile that crinkled his eyes and made her heart flutter in the most uncomfortable way. “Miss Thraxton, your hair is incredibly fetching when wet. I had no notion it was so long.”

  She wondered warily what he was up to now. “I daresay I look well slathered with mud, too.”

  His gaze traveled from her face to her throat. “I believe you’d look fetching no matter what you did, or did not, wear. There are few women who can say that with any measure of truth.”

  His voice rumbled low and intimate, almost hypnotic. Truly, the man was a conundrum—one moment insulting her, and the next complimenting her like a courtier. Her confusion must have shown in her face, for he grinned and then turned her toward the house and gave her a little push, as if she were a recalcitrant child. “Go and don some dry clothes. We will meet in the morning for our ride.”

  Lord help her, but when had Greyley turned into such a captivating man? She caught sight of his bare feet. “How can you ride without boots?”

  His gaze followed hers. “I’ll borrow my brother’s while I send to London for some new ones. Never fear, I’ll be properly clothed when we go for our ride.”

  Anna met his warm brown gaze with a sinking feeling. She didn’t dare ride alone with him, for her own safety as well as his. Gathering her rumpled composure, she turned and marched toward the house, all too aware of Greyley’s silent company as he followed behind. She could almost feel his gaze on her shoulders, her hips, her legs.

  She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, yet when she caught his gaze just as she reached the house where Jenkins stood waiting, she thought she detected a surprising blaze of warmth. A look so fraught with promise that she barely managed to curtsy before she mumbled a disjointed thank you and then unceremoniously fled.

  Later, dressed in a fresh gown, drying her hair before the fire in the nursery while the children wrote their apology letters, Anna remembered in vivid detail her conversation with the earl. Something had changed. He was no longer chasing after the elusive schedule, but her. She could see it in his eyes, in the way he watched her. Some part of her thrilled at the thought. He was incredibly handsome. And she was beginning to realize that there was more to him than she’d thought—the way he took such care of the children, for instance.

  That made him all the more dangerous. She would go riding with him—she’d promised. But she’d take her own protection, one destined to end Greyley’s desire to ever go riding with her ever again.

  Chapter 17

  Nothing is quite so satisfying as a brisk ride in the park. Except, of course, eating, sleeping, drinking, and playing cards.

  Lord Alvaney to Sir Rotherwood, while sharing port at White’s

  “The brown waistcoat, my lord?” Ledbetter’s voice resounded with disbelief.

  “Yes, damn it. And be quick.” Anthony was to meet Anna in ten minutes and he was running late.

  Yesterday, after the incident at the pond, Anthony had changed into dry clothing and then retired to the library. Instead of being greeted by the faithful Dalmapple, he found Brand waiting. From his vantage point of
the library window, he had apparently witnessed a good bit of Anthony’s conversation with Miss Thraxton and was brimming with an inappropriate amount of curiosity.

  Anthony had brushed aside Brand’s insinuations that there was more between him and Anna Thraxton. But still…he couldn’t forget the heat that flared between them. It was the damnedest thing.

  His marriage to Charlotte was to be the usual arranged affair—once she’d given him the children necessary for the continuation of the Greyley line, she’d go about her amusements just as he planned to go about his. Like many men of the ton, he’d probably have taken a mistress once the patina of wedded bliss wore thin. After the first year, of course; he was a gentleman, after all.

  All that had changed once he’d seen Anna Thraxton in a dripping wet gown. He’d be damned if he’d wait another moment. Though he’d been born an Elliot, he’d been raised a St. John. When he wanted something, he obtained it. And he wanted Anna Thraxton. She would be the perfect mistress; he was certain she would be as passionate in bed as she was out of it. All he had to do was awaken that passion and fan it to heights she couldn’t ignore.

  The idea played through his mind over and over. The end result was that he had stayed up far too late planning his stratagems, imagining the ultimately pleasurable outcome of his success. He would make sure the alliance would be to her advantage as well. It bothered him to see a woman of her station laboring away, regardless of the fact that it was becoming more and more plain that she had a gift for taking care of people.

  She deserved silks and sapphires, a lovely home and the safety of knowing she’d never have to labor again. And he was going to give her all of that, and more.

  The tantalizing thoughts followed him to bed and he’d dreamed of winning Anna in ways that left him hot and ready. It was the early hours of the morning before he finally fell into a mercifully dreamless sleep that lasted well past the time he usually rose.

  He glanced at the clock, cursed loudly, then yanked on Brand’s riding boots. They were a size too small and pinched like the devil, but he didn’t care. The intractable Miss Thraxton would not wait a second past the appointed time.