Secrets of a Runaway Bride

by Valerie Bowman

  “Ashbourne is already an earl, for heaven’s sake, and one of the wealthiest men in London.”

  Annie tossed up her hands. “What is your point, Frances? They are two very different men.”

  “My point is merely that Mr. Eggleston is a perfectly respectable chap. But oh, my dear, he doesn’t make one want to swoon the way Lord Ashbourne does.”

  Annie pushed up her chin. “Swooning is quite overrated.”

  “Have you tried it?”

  Annie gasped. “I have not. And I have no intention of it. Now let’s desist in this silly conversation and discuss more important matters. Like how shall I make Arthur stop talking to his sister and ask me to dance? I only have three weeks left to get him to ask me to marry him.” She nodded across the ballroom to where she had spied Arthur standing in a small group of people, including his older sister.

  “It’s a shame his sister hasn’t married yet,” Frances whispered. “I think it’s her nose, poor thing. Though it may very well be the chin…” Frances rubbed her own chin and shook her head.

  Annie stifled a horrified laugh. “That is just ridiculous. No doubt she hasn’t found the right chap yet. That is all. I’m sure she’s a lovely young woman. I’ve yet to make her acquaintance but—”

  Frances clutched at Annie’s arm. “He hasn’t introduced you to his sister?”

  “No. Not yet. Perhaps tonight—”

  “May I ask you something?” Frances said, reaching for her discarded glass of punch.

  “Yes?”

  “If I find a way to get Mr. Eggleston to ask you to dance, will you introduce me to Lord Ashbourne?” She winked at Annie.

  “Oh, Frances, no. I just can’t stand it. I don’t want you to meet Lord Ashbourne. I can barely tolerate him myself. Now, come with me.”

  Frances in tow, Annie took off across the ballroom, headed toward the group in which Arthur stood.

  She and Frances waited on the outskirts a bit too long, hoping to be included. Annie glanced over and briefly made eye contact with Lord Ashbourne, who stood in the midst of a giggling group of overly anxious young women, a mocking grin on his perfect face. She longed to slap it off. He held up his glass in a silent salute to her and Annie suddenly felt like a fool waiting for Arthur’s attention as if she were standing in a queue.

  She glanced away from Lord Ashbourne and swallowed, nearly ready to turn and leave, when Arthur’s timid sister, a pale, yellow-haired girl with the most unfortunate (ahem, Frances was right) nose and chin Annie had ever seen, cleared her throat and tugged on her brother’s sleeve.

  Arthur looked up at his sister’s urging and glanced at Annie. A surprised smile lit his face. “Ah, Miss Andrews, so good to see you. And Miss Birmingham,” he said, bowing to Frances, “always a pleasure.”

  Annie and Frances murmured their greetings and Arthur turned to introduce them to his sister. “My sister, Miss Theodosia Eggleston. Theodosia, Miss Anne Andrews and Miss Frances Birmingham.”

  Ah, he’d finally introduced her to his sister. Annie gave Frances a triumphant smile and greeted Miss Eggleston, who murmured something pleasant. They lingered for a bit, talking about inconsequential matters, before Miss Eggleston declared that she was in need of some air. Wouldn’t Arthur take her nearer to a window in order to obtain it?

  Soon after the two siblings left, the rest of the group dispersed, and Annie and Frances were left standing alone again.

  “I cannot believe he didn’t ask you to dance,” Frances said. “Especially when you so obviously wanted him to.”

  Annie shook her head. “It’s his sister. I know it. He feels such an obligation to see to her. She’s not well. I have no idea how I’ll ever get him to come up to scratch if she continues to remain unattached.”

  “It certainly seems to be a problem, doesn’t it?” Frances replied, biting her lip. “What can we do?”

  A flash of black slid past, and Annie glanced up to see Jordan Holloway making his way across the room. Frances clutched at Annie’s arm like a crab frantically snapping its pincer.

  “Seems you’ve lost your Mr. Eggleston,” Lord Ashbourne drawled, not breaking his stride.

  CHAPTER 6

  It was nearly two hours and four glasses of tepid punch later before Annie was finally able to locate Arthur without his sister at his side. Apparently Miss Eggleston had gone to the ladies’ retiring room.

  “It’s about time,” Annie breathed, handing her glass to Frances. “Please hold this while I go speak with him.”

  “What do you intend to say?” Frances called after her.

  Annie tossed a quick wink in her friend’s direction. “I’ll think of something.”

  She made her way over to Arthur, who stood alone near the sidelines of the dancing, a pleasant look on his face. “Arthur, there you are.”

  Arthur glanced up; his smile did not falter. “Anne. How have you been enjoying the evening? Where is Lord Ashbourne?”

  Ugh. Why did Arthur have to mention that man’s name? “He’s here … somewhere.” She kept the smile pinned to her face. “And I’ve been enjoying the evening very well but would like it ever so much more if I were dancing.”

  Arthur’s face turned into a scowl. “Won’t Lord Ashbourne ask you to dance?”

  Annie ground her teeth. She leaned in closer. “Arthur,” she whispered. “I was hoping you would ask me to dance.”

  A brief flash of surprise registered on Arthur’s smooth face before he replied, “Anne, you know I should like that very much, but I don’t think it would be very prudent.”

  Instinctively, she took a step back. “Why not?”

  He cleared his throat, then lowered his voice. “I had words with Lord Ashbourne earlier and he … he rather implied that you and I shouldn’t … that I…”

  Annie’s face heated. She clenched her teeth. “Arthur,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Lord Ashbourne does not choose my dance partners and I—” Annie caught sight of Miss Eggleston making her way back toward her brother from the retiring room. She didn’t have much time. Only a matter of seconds. “Arthur,” she whispered. “I must speak with you, alone. Meet me downstairs in the gardens. In ten minutes.”

  Arthur started to shake his head but Annie wouldn’t allow him to speak. “I’ll be waiting, please,” she said, just before she flew away. She nodded to Miss Eggleston on her way out the door.

  * * *

  Fifteen long minutes passed while Annie waited outside in the gardens. It was easy enough to elude Aunt Clarissa. The woman could barely see beyond five paces in front of her face. If Annie insisted she was off dancing, Aunt Clarissa smiled and nodded and raised another glass of wine.

  Annie wrung her hands. But where was Arthur? She’d nearly convinced herself that he wasn’t coming when the French doors finally opened. Through a shaft of moonlight she could see his handsome face, blond hair, and sky-blue eyes.

  “Anne,” he called softly from the terrace. “Anne.”

  “Over here, Arthur,” she called back from her refuge behind a large, flowering bush.

  Arthur strode toward her and captured her hands when he found her. “I’m sorry I’m late. It was difficult to get away.”

  Annie nodded. “I understand.”

  “I cannot stay long, Anne. What if someone sees us? And I must be getting back to my sister.”

  Annie resisted the urge to shake him. “Arthur, I’ve barely spoken to you all evening. You cannot spare a few moments for me?”

  “Yes, of course,” he said, covering her hand again with his. “I’m here.”

  Annie took a deep breath. She’d carefully considered what she would say. Desperate times called for desperate measures and all that. She would come right out with it. “Do you want to marry me, Arthur?”

  Arthur squeezed her hand again and gulped. He looked genuinely shocked. “Of course I do, Anne.”

  “Then why have you not offered for me?”

  Arthur turned away and shoved his fingers through his hair. “Ev
er since we tried to run off to Gretna Green, my father’s been very disappointed in me. He says I should take time to consider my behavior carefully and I tend to agree. There’s no rush, is there?”

  Annie’s throat tightened “But you said your father had got over his doubts about me.”

  Arthur faced her again. “He was worried about your lack of dowry before, that’s true. But he knows you have a large dowry now that your sister has married Lord Colton. Now that everyone knows Lord Colton is so wealthy.”

  Annie scanned Arthur’s face. “Then what’s the problem?”

  He nodded. “Father doesn’t think it’s a good idea to rush into anything. A marriage, that is. And you know as well as I, it’s not just my father who stands between us. After what happened on the road to Gretna, I know Lord Colton has his doubts about me. Then there’s the matter of my sister. She needs me right now. I must look after her.”

  Annie took two steps toward him. She wanted to reach for him but checked the impulse. She threaded her fingers together instead. “Don’t you love me, Arthur?”

  “Of course I do, Anne, but if we’re to marry, what does it matter if it’s this year or next?”

  Annie shook her head. “What does it matter?” she repeated brokenly. “I want a marriage, children. Those are the most important things to me, Arthur. I thought you wanted those same things too.” She put her hand on his shoulder, and when he looked down, she searched his face.

  Arthur must have heard the pain in her voice. He reached over and squeezed the hand that rested on his shoulder. “Oh, Anne, it is. And I do. I promise. I’ll speak to my father again. I’ll convince him. Don’t worry.”

  “And I’ll see to Lord Colton,” she promised with a nod.

  “It will be all right, Anne. You’ll see.” Arthur pulled her into his arms. “Besides, it seems I may have some competition in Lord Ashbourne.”

  Annie couldn’t help her unladylike snort. “Lord Ashbourne?”

  “Yes. First I find you in his arms on my back porch and tonight he told me in no uncertain terms to stay away from you.”

  “Oh, that, it’s just that—” Annie stopped herself. A slow smile dawned across her face. She could tell Arthur that Lord Ashbourne was merely carrying out a favor to her sister and Lord Colton, or she could let him think he did indeed have competition. Just what he might need, in fact. What was the harm?

  “Are you jealous?” she asked, a catlike smile pinned to her face.

  “Should I be?” Arthur pulled her even closer and a shot of happiness spread through her limbs. Oh, he was jealous. Perfect.

  Annie tilted up her chin to look into his eyes. She searched his face. This was it. The perfect opportunity. Finally. “Oh, Arthur, kiss me, please.”

  Arthur gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Looking very earnest, he blinked several times.

  Annie closed her eyes and leaned up on her tiptoes. He was going to do it. Arthur Eggleston was going to kiss her. She sucked in her breath. She tilted her chin. She puckered her lips. Oh yes, this would be her very first kiss from her one true love.

  “Now this I do hate to interrupt,” a cocky male voice intruded. “But I’d hardly be doing my duty as a chaperone if I did not.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Jordan Holloway emerged from the shadowy side of the house, his eyes fixed on his unruly charge.

  Eggleston’s hands fell away from Annie’s arms. He cleared his throat multiple times and moved several paces away from her as quickly as possible.

  “Uh, good evening, Lord Ashbourne,” Arthur said. “Thank you very— Good evening!” Arthur nodded toward Jordan, nodded toward Annie, and without meeting their eyes, dashed past both of them back toward the house like a hare scared by a hound.

  Laughing softly, Jordan stepped into the moonlit nook.

  Annie crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course you would have to pick that precise moment to insert yourself into my affairs again. Proud of yourself?”

  “Immensely,” Jordan answered with a nod.

  “You are a detestable eavesdropper.”

  Jordan cracked a smile. “I take offense to that, actually. I am a very skilled eavesdropper. But I came out here to enjoy a perfectly good cheroot. One that I’ve been forced to snub out since you arrived.”

  “You had no right to—”

  His hand went up to stop her. “I’m sure Lily and Devon would see things quite differently. No doubt they’d thank me.”

  Her cheeks flushed the loveliest shade of pink.

  “My sister and Devon don’t understand and, apparently, neither do you. But it is absolutely none of your affair!” She turned her back on him.

  “It is my affair, actually. I am your chaperone. Not to mention, if you intend to use me to make Eggleston jealous, then it’s even more my affair.” He crossed his arms over his chest and arched a brow at her.

  She turned an even brighter shade of pink and bit her lip. The tell.

  Jordan eyed her. “I’ve done you a great service this evening and this is how you repay me? Outrage and ingratitude?”

  Annie’s jaw dropped open. “A great service? Are you mad? How do you think you’ve done me a great service?”

  “Trust me. You wouldn’t have wanted to kiss Eggleston.”

  Annie squeezed her reticule, and Jordan could only guess she was imagining it was his throat. “Really? How would you know? Have you kissed him?”

  Jordan shrugged. “It’s just a sense I get about the chap. The way he sits a horse, refuses to drink, mentions his father four times in one conversation. To be honest, I’ve been convinced the man isn’t interested in women at all.” Jordan shook his head. “I’m sorry to tell you, none of it bodes well for your marital bed.”

  Annie’s cheeks flamed. Her voice shook with outrage. “First of all, you should not have been eavesdropping. It’s unspeakably rude, and second, what would you know about a marital bed? You’re not married!”

  As soon as the words left her mouth, she clapped her hand over it. “Oh, good heavens, I want to sink through the grass,” she murmured, pulling her hand away.

  Jordan arched a brow. “Guessed, did you, how I might know such a thing?”

  She closed her eyes, reopened them slowly, and cleared her throat. “Frances says you’re a rakehell. I assume that’s how you know.”

  “A rakehell? Really? I suppose that’s fair.” At the moment, all he could think about was wrapping up this little matter with the unhappy Miss Andrews and making his way to his mistress Nicoletta’s town house.

  Annie’s eyes shot dark sparks at him. “Very well. If you’re a rakehell, you must be quite experienced, then.”

  Jordan coughed. “Experienced?”

  “Yes. At kissing.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve had no complaints.”

  Annie tapped her slipper on the grass. “Will you kiss me then?”

  Jordan’s head snapped up and he gave her a look as if he were convinced she’d lost her mind. “Pardon?”

  “Will you kiss me?”

  He arched a brow. “Under no circumstances.”

  She gave him a smug smile. “Afraid?”

  Jordan took two steps toward her and towered over her. “Miss Andrews, you should learn not to play games with vastly superior players.”

  Annie stared straight up at him. “Vastly superior? My. My. Arrogant, aren’t we?”

  “Merely confident. And I’m not about to play into your little game of trying to make Eggleston jealous, which I assume is the reason for your request.”

  She didn’t look away. Impressive.

  She glanced about, holding out her hands. “Arthur isn’t here now to see, is he? If you’re heaven’s gift to the fairer sex, why don’t you prove it?”

  Oh, now she was challenging his skills. Taunting him. Foolish woman. But doubt flickered in Jordan’s mind. He eyed the appealing Miss Andrews. For some deuced inexplicable reason, he was actually tempted. She was beautiful, she was lively, and she
was luring him with her know-it-all attitude. But she was also Devon’s sister-in-law, blast it. Kissing her would be a phenomenally bad idea. Phenomenally bad.

  “Given that you’re Devon’s sister-in-law—”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. It must not have been you who said you were doing shocking things before I was out of pinafores.”

  Jordan narrowed his eyes on her. The smug look on her face made him shake the doubt away. The chit was a bit too sure of herself. She’d only get into more trouble with an attitude like that. She needed to learn a lesson and the sooner the better.

  “You do not know what you’re getting yourself into,” he warned.

  “Don’t I?” she countered. She’d pulled off one glove and was contemplating her fingernails as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

  That did it.

  Jordan narrowed his eyes on her. This girl definitely needed to be taught a lesson. He remembered a night several months ago when Devon had forced him to ask Annie to dance at the Atkinsons’ house party. He’d done it, all right, and she’d ever so reluctantly agreed, but it’d been clear the entire time that she’d been scouring the ballroom for a glimpse of Arthur Eggleston.

  Arthur Eggleston of all people. That little episode had left a bad taste in Jordan’s mouth. The next morning, Annie and Arthur had run off to Gretna Green and Devon had enlisted Jordan’s help in tracking them down.

  Jordan was used to the giggling attentions of young ladies and the smooth flirtations of more experienced women. He was a man who was rarely without the company of a beautiful woman and he was accustomed to being the center of attention. Here was this girl with her know-it-all attitude positively mocking him. He wouldn’t stand for it. He’d have Miss Andrews quaking in her tiny little slippers in five seconds flat.

  And he knew just how to accomplish it.

  Sucking in a deep breath through his nostrils, he reached out and softly ran a bare finger along the arch of her jaw. Annie glanced up. A flicker of doubt flashed in her eyes. Good. He’d already shaken her. His thumb glanced against her temple, traced along her cheekbone, and tilted up her chin.