Eggleston quickly gathered up his belongings. Obviously finding a jolt of courage somewhere, he turned back to address Jordan. “Aren’t you and Anne coming too, my lord?”
Jordan narrowed his eyes on the young man. “Not. With. You.”
Eggleston nodded. Then his gaze moved to Annie. “I’m sorry, Anne.” He gulped when Jordan took a step toward him. “Miss … Miss Andrews.” Eggleston nodded once more and was gone.
“Arthur,” Annie pleaded, moving toward the door and watching him leave. “No. Don’t go.”
The clip of Arthur’s boots receded down the hallway and then the steps.
Annie turned to look at Jordan, a crestfallen look on her face. For a moment, Jordan’s anger drained away and his heart wrenched.
“I can’t believe he left,” she whispered.
It took her a few moments to visibly recover, and when she did, her entire countenance changed. Ah, there was the little hellcat he’d come to know. She stood glaring at Jordan, her chest rising and falling; then she charged across the room, shoved her belongings into her bag, and gathered the handles. She swept past Jordan and paused in the doorway to turn back and look at him. “Aren’t you coming? We might as well be on our way back to London too.”
Yes, the little hellcat was back, and Jordan had already been exposed to her claws one time too many. He took two steps toward her. “We’re not going back to London.”
Annie’s brow furrowed just before a look of sheer panic flashed across her lovely face. “What do you mean? Where else would we go?”
“You’ve proven yourself to be an unpredictable nuisance, Miss Andrews. I cannot keep you safe from yourself in London.”
Annie’s mouth dropped open. Her grip on her bag tightened. “If we’re not going to London, where are we going?”
Her voice held just enough antagonism to make the delivery of his news a true pleasure. Jordan brushed past her into the corridor. “We’re going to Surrey. To Ashbourne Manor.”
“Your country estate? But why?” Her voice was thin.
Jordan slowly turned to face her, a triumphant smile on his lips. “I’m keeping you out of Society and away from Eggleston. He’s just stupid enough to be dangerous. Until Devon and Lily return, you and I will spend our time in the country, in isolation. I will send for Aunt Clarissa and your maid. You’re about to become my houseguest, Miss Andrews. For a fortnight.”
CHAPTER 21
Two days later, Jordan spent the morning pacing his study at Ashbourne Manor. Annie was asleep in the suite of rooms he’d asked the housekeeper to make up for her when they’d arrived in the middle of the night. When she awoke, she’d be plotting her escape, no doubt. But Ashbourne Manor was nestled in the quiet countryside. Quite remote. In fact, the closest neighbor was Colton House, nearly an hour’s ride away.
Even if Annie managed to shimmy down the side of the manor house on a vine—which he already knew was not beneath her—she’d have nowhere to go, and Jordan had already given his stable master strict instructions not to allow her any mounts whatsoever.
The woman was an escape artist. A troublemaker. And a damned nuisance. All rolled into one. She’d caused him nothing but trouble since she’d been thrust into his life. Not only were his pastimes in London and his work at Parliament cut short due to the necessity of chasing that little baggage down and carting her off to the countryside, but now he was forced to stay in seclusion with her for the next two weeks.
So be it. He could attend to some much-needed work on his estate, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem would be keeping Miss Andrews adequately occupied so she didn’t plot even bigger and worse things than taking off to Gretna Green with Arthur Eggleston. Jordan could hardly imagine what that might be, but he had no doubt Miss Andrews could conjure up something.
He ran his fingers through his hair. He could always write to Devon and Lily and tell them they must cut short their trip to come back and handle their ne’er-do-well sister. But such a missive would make him look like the veriest fool. If Jordan couldn’t even keep a nineteen-year-old out of trouble for two weeks … If he couldn’t handle one small, albeit determined, young woman, what the hell was wrong with him? He was an earl, for God’s sake. A peer of the realm. The eldest of four brothers who had often been up to no good, and since his father had died nearly ten years ago, he’d managed to keep his brothers alive and well despite their various exploits. No, he refused to concede that a young lady making her debut was too much for him to handle.
And he knew just how to handle Annie. He’d thought about it extensively on the long road to the Gray Horse Inn and back. He’d handle her on her terms. Or at least what she thought were her terms. Foolish though they may be. Miss Andrews was a woman who was in love with love. So that’s exactly what he needed to be about. Putting love in her path. Jordan would handle the affairs at his estate for the next two weeks, but he would also endeavor to put some eligible chaps in Annie’s path. That way, she could fall in love with someone decent and stop her silly infatuation with Arthur Eggleston. Jordan would merely ensure anyone he introduced her to would be eligible and a better choice than Eggleston. Quite simple, really.
Once Annie realized Arthur wasn’t coming to her rescue, she would choose one of them and that would be that. After all, the girl was beautiful, intelligent, and had excellent connections like the Marquis of Colton. She should aspire to much greater heights than Eggleston in the first place.
Not to mention the fact that Jordan couldn’t stand seeing her make a fool of herself any longer. She should be infatuated with someone who wanted her back. God only knew what had gotten into Eggleston to spur him to make the trip to Gretna again, but the young man seemed anything but madly in love. He hadn’t even put up a fight, for Christ’s sake, when Jordan had arrived and ordered him to go. Instead, the sop had been more worried about Jordan hitting him. The problem with Eggleston was the man allowed whomever he was with to talk him into their point of view. Eggleston agreed with the loudest voice in any room. Annie had spent her time convincing him, but when he got around his father, he was convinced there too. And when Jordan had arrived at the inn and threatened him, he’d abandoned all of his plans to run off to Gretna. Arthur was a milksop. Couldn’t Annie see that? And Annie, with her stubborn insistence, needed the opposite of a milksop for a husband or she would crush him beneath her will in a matter of months. Arthur Eggleston was the exact wrong man for her.
Yes, Annie definitely deserved better than Eggleston, and Jordan would put a better chap in her path. She wouldn’t thank him now, of course, but once she was happily married and had a baby or two as she wanted, she’d see how right he’d been all along. It was a perfect plan.
Jordan rang for the housekeeper and Mrs. Phillips arrived moments later.
“Yes, my lord?”
“Good morning, Mrs. Phillips. Good to see you again.”
“My lord.” The housekeeper curtsied.
“Is Miss Andrews awake?”
“Yes, my lord. One of the maids was just bringing up her breakfast, in fact.”
“Excellent. See to it that she has everything she needs. Her maid will be arriving this afternoon.”
“Yes, my lord. So far she’s asked for a quill, some ink, and parchment,” Mrs. Phillips reported.
Jordan snorted. “I bet she has.”
Mrs. Phillips’s brow was furrowed.
Jordan shook his head. “Will you please ask Miss Andrews to join me in the study in one hour?”
“Of course, my lord. Will there be anything else?”
“No, thank you, Mrs. Phillips.”
The housekeeper hurried away and Jordan strolled over to the sideboard where he popped open the nearest bottle of brandy and poured himself a glass. Then he crossed back over to his desk to peruse paperwork while he waited.
* * *
Annie was just finishing the last of her breakfast consisting of warm buttered toast, smooth, delicious hot chocolate, and delectable sweet berrie
s when Mrs. Philips, Lord Ashbourne’s housekeeper, came trotting into the room to inform her that his majesty requested her presence in his study in an hour.
Annie pushed the tray away and waited for both the maid and Mrs. Phillips to leave the room before she settled back against the pillows in the absolutely opulent bedroom Lord Ashbourne had provided for her use. She’d spent so many years being poor that her time in Lord Colton’s house and now Lord Ashbourne’s house seemed something like a dreamland to her. The men were rich. No, not just rich. Indecently rich. She would have lived a much simpler life as Arthur’s wife.
Arthur.
The name caused a stabbing pain to her heart. Arthur wasn’t the man she’d thought he was at all. Lord Ashbourne had been completely right about him though she’d die a thousand deaths before she would admit it. Arthur was a man who allowed himself to be ruled by whoever shouted at him the loudest. He had no opinions of his own. No backbone. And how she’d ever thought he was the man for her, she would never know. She’d allowed herself to believe because she’d wanted to so badly. She could see that now. But if Arthur wasn’t even willing to stand up to Lord Ashbourne, he wasn’t willing to stand up for her. No. She couldn’t accept a husband like that.
It would be useless, trying to explain to Lord Ashbourne that he needn’t keep her out here in the country for the next two weeks. He’d never believe anything she said now and she couldn’t blame him. She’d acted like a fool time and time again.
It was heavy-handed of him, to be sure, dragging her off to Ashbourne Manor and dictating her life for the next fortnight, but perhaps it was for the best. Going back to London and seeing Arthur held little appeal for her. Lily and Devon wouldn’t be back yet either. No, she might as well nurse her broken heart in the countryside. As long as Lord High-and-Mighty didn’t intend to lecture her every day about what a fool she was. And oh God, she was keeping him from his mistress too; that must make him unhappy. She turned and buried her face in the downy soft pillow. No doubt about it. This was going to be a humiliating two weeks.
* * *
Annie arrived precisely on time. She was wearing the same dress she’d been in the day before, her arms were crossed over her chest, and she had a resigned look on her face.
“You wanted to speak with me?” she said, walking woodenly into the room.
“Yes. Come in. Sit down.” Jordan gestured to the chair in front of his desk.
Annie made her way to the seat and perched on the edge of the chair. “I’m worried about my fox. Who will take care of Dash?”
“You didn’t think about that before you took off for Scotland?”
She gave him a decidedly unhappy stare.
“Don’t worry,” he replied. “I’ve already arranged for Evans to see to him and the pups.”
Annie let out her breath. “Thank you for that.”
Jordan steepled his fingers in front of his face. “Your maid should arrive today with some of your clothes and other things. And Aunt Clarissa, of course.”
Annie nodded. “I’m glad to know in addition to abduction, you’re at least giving a nod to propriety.”
Jordan smirked. “The only abduction that’s taken place here is you from yourself. I did you a great favor, though you fail to recognize it at present.”
Annie arched a brow. “Tell me, Lord Ashbourne, is it difficult to be so very clever?”
He ignored that remark. “I don’t expect you to appreciate any of this right now but—”
“I will someday. Is that it?”
“Yes.”
She looked away. “I’ve been a fool.”
Jordan eyed her profile. Her smooth skin shone like silk and the proud way she held her shoulders bespoke her frustration. “I called you in here to inform you of my plans. I intend to introduce you to some … gentlemen.”
Annie’s head snapped up to face him. “Gentlemen?”
“Yes. Starting with my brothers, in fact.”
Her mouth fell open. “Your brothers?”
“Yes.”
“You cannot be serious.”
The look of incredulity on her face was enough to make Jordan scowl. “I daresay any one of my brothers is preferable to Eggthorpe.”
Annie tossed a hand in the air. “You’re mad. What? One man is just as good as another?”
“Not at all. As I said, my brothers are preferable. You need a man who won’t do things like allow you to talk him into trips to Gretna Green.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “I did no such thing.”
Jordan gave her his most ironic look. “Are you honestly going to tell me that you didn’t suggest the trip?”
Annie slapped her palm on the front of the desk. “I would be wasting my breath trying to convince you, but no, it was Arthur’s idea.”
“The dolt has bungled the job twice now. Make no mistake, a real man would have succeeded.” Jordan braced both hands on the desk and leaned toward her, staring her in the eye. “Let me assure you, if I’d been your groom, you’d be mine by now, with or without benefit of the clergy.”
Annie’s face flushed a lovely shade of pink. She pushed back in her chair and cleared her throat. “You would never be my choice of groom,” she snapped.
“Agreed,” Jordan replied in a tightly controlled voice, but something about the way she’d said it with such smug assurance made him crazy. Why, London was full of ladies who would choose him for a groom. Didn’t little Miss Know-it-all know that?
Annie glanced away, her chest rising and falling with her deep breaths. “And what will your brothers think of this? Your attempt to marry them off to a woman they’ve never even met?”
Jordan straightened back up and shrugged. “They’re young, healthy, intelligent. They all intend to take a wife at some point; there’s no reason for them not to be interested in you.”
“Wonderful. Humiliating and a waste of time for everyone involved.”
“Who says it will be a waste of time?”
“I do. You cannot just force people to fall in love. I’ve never even met your brothers.”
“Yes, well, I intend to rectify that, starting tomorrow. My youngest brother, Michael, will be here.”
Annie stood up, her arms still crossed over her chest, her eyes shooting flames at him. “Is there anything else or am I dismissed?”
Jordan raised a brow. “You’re not a servant here.”
“Funny. It feels as if I am.”
“You’re a houseguest with a penchant for trouble, is what you are.”
She turned on her heel and stalked to the door. “May I write letters to my friends in London or is that to be forbidden as well?”
Jordan grinned at her. “As long as you don’t marry or leave this property for the next two weeks, you’re free to do as you wish.”
Annie turned back to look at him and her dark brown curls fell over her shoulder in a most fetching display. She pushed up her chin. “I shall do as I wish whether I’m free to or not.”
Jordan narrowed his eyes on her. “Oh, I have little doubt of that. Good day, Miss Andrews. See you tomorrow when I introduce you to Michael.”
CHAPTER 22
When Michael arrived the next morning, Annie was nowhere to be found. After nearly twenty minutes of searching, Jordan eventually located her in the gardens.
She was on her hands and knees next to Mr. McGivens, the gardener, planting a row of daffodil bulbs along the side of the fence. She looked like nothing so much as a pretty country milkmaid with the sun glinting off her dark hair and a radiant smile on her face.
Jordan cleared his throat. “Miss Andrews.”
She glanced up and the fetching smile was replaced with a look of resignation that made Jordan inexplicably sad for a moment. “Ready?” he asked.
Annie got to her feet and brushed the dirt from her skirts. She was wearing a pretty peach-colored day dress that made her look lovely, reminding Jordan of the fact that her maid had arrived with Annie’s c
lothing. Aunt Clarissa was there too, making inappropriate comments about his looks and asking different footmen to bring her a bit of sherry on a regular basis.
“I’m as ready as I expect to be.” Annie sighed. Turning back toward Mr. McGivens, she gave him a radiant smile. “Thank you very much for allowing me to help. I do so love to plant things.”
“The pleasure was entirely mine, Miss Andrews,” the old gardener replied with a wide smile.
Jordan looked twice. Mr. McGivens actually blushed. He hadn’t seen the old man so much as crack a smile in all his years in the family’s employ. Jordan shook his head.
Annie righted her skirts and followed Jordan toward the back entrance of the house.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You enjoy gardening?”
Annie nodded. “Very much. I’ve been living in London so long, and we have no gardens there. It’s quite sad, actually. The closest I’ve come to gardening is taking care of all of the flowers Lily’s suitors used to send. Oh my, there were some lovely flowers then.”
Jordan couldn’t help but smile. “So what do you think of McGivens’s work?”
“He has done a wonderful job. I told him so. You have absolutely beautiful flowers and trees here. But I think the sweeping entrance to the manor house would be that much more impressive if you planted some poplars along the road.”
Jordan nearly choked. “What did Mr. McGivens say when you suggested that?”
“Why, he loved the idea. He said it hadn’t occurred to him before.”
Jordan frowned. “That doesn’t sound like McGivens.”
Annie’s face registered her innocence. “Whatever do you mean? He’s a dear man.”
This time Jordan had a coughing fit in an attempt to cover his laughter. “Dear? McGivens?”
“Yes, absolutely. He listened to all my ideas and said he would make note of them. He thanked me.”
“If you say so.” They reached the back terrace then and Jordan opened the French doors and held one open above her head as Annie swept through before him.
Secrets of a Runaway Bride Page 13