Charlie raised his empty glass in a silent salute. “No doubt, she could, old chap. Only what if the heir was your son, not your nephew?”
CHAPTER 27
Jordan asked her to join him for dinner. They’d been dining separately, up until now. The more space he kept between them the better. But the longer Annie had stayed at Ashbourne Manor, the more he looked forward to her company. And confound it! He couldn’t resist asking her what she and Charlie had spoken about this afternoon.
Charlie. Jordan growled. Charlie had always been astute, but the man had completely missed the mark on this one. Perhaps Jordan hadn’t been completely right in his attempts to play matchmaker for Annie with his brothers, but Charlie’s proposal that Jordan should marry her, why, it was completely absurd. Charlie knew damn well what had happened in the past and Annie Andrews couldn’t change it.
It was just like Charlie to be so deliberately provocative too. But Jordan refused to allow it to ruffle him. If Annie and his brothers didn’t hit it off, there were still plenty of eligible men to whom he might introduce her. It was only a matter of finding the right one.
Aunt Clarissa was already sitting at the table, eyeing Jordan in a way that made him feel positively uncomfortable, when Annie flew into the dining room in a swirl of pink satin. The color looked fetching on her. When she entered a room, it always seemed as though she’d been rushing from somewhere else, as though her life were too busy and fun for her to be precisely on time. Despite himself he liked that quality about her. He liked it a lot.
“Good evening, Jordan,” she said in a breathless rush. “Aunt Clarissa.” She nodded.
“Helping Mr. McGivens again? Or was it Mrs. Phillips tonight?” Jordan asked.
Annie slid into her seat to his immediate right, across from Aunt Clarissa, and pulled her napkin onto her lap. A footman rushed forth to pour her a glass of wine.
“Neither,” she said with a tinkling laugh.
“The puppies again? Or was it Jeffries?” He winked at her.
“None of those,” she replied, and then with an irrepressible smile, “though I do have one or two suggestions for your steward if you think he might care to listen.”
Jordan watched her carefully over his wine glass. “Tell me something. How do you know so much about running an estate?”
She shrugged just one shoulder. “I did a lot of eavesdropping on Lily’s lessons,” she admitted. “My mother ensured she was brought up to run a great household. I was always fascinated by the things she was allowed to study.”
“You’re every bit as capable as Lily,” Jordan replied. “Which makes me wonder why you’re so determined to waste yourself on Eggleston.”
Aunt Clarissa glanced up from her wine glass. “Here, here,” she said, raising her glass.
Annie looked twice at the older woman. “Why, Aunt Clarissa. I’d no idea you felt that way.”
“You never asked, dear. But I quite agree with Lord Ashbourne. That Eggleston chap is a boob.”
Annie shook her head. “Is there no one who actually likes Arthur?” She sighed.
“No,” Aunt Clarissa replied a bit too loudly before turning her attention back to her wine glass.
Annie shook her head and said to Jordan, “Regardless, I could have saved you and your brothers time and effort as well, you know?”
“How?” He didn’t remove his gaze from her face.
“You shouldn’t have bothered to call them here, tried to introduce them to me.”
“Why? Because you’re so madly in love with Eggleston?” Jordan swore if she answered yes, he’d go find that idiot and snap his neck.
“No,” she replied, waiting patiently for the footman to serve her the first course of roast duck. “But the way you’re going about it isn’t right at all. It just isn’t the way true love happens.”
Aunt Clarissa vigorously shook her head. “If I were you, dear, I’d toss Eggleston on his ear and marry Charlie Holloway before the year is through.”
Jordan nearly choked on his food. “Aunt Clarissa has a point.” He smiled. “Besides, do you still believe you love Eggleston?” This time there was no denying it. Jordan felt the spark of … jealousy. Blast it, where had that unwelcome emotion come from? But there it was. He was jealous. Of that idiot Arthur Eggleston. He wished he could take back the question. Didn’t want to hear the answer. But it was too late. Aunt Clarissa pushed her chair away from the table and excused herself to use the convenience. They both silently watched her go. Jordan eyed Annie closely, waiting for her to speak.
Annie glanced away and shook her head. When she spoke, her voice was soft so the footmen hovering near the sideboard would not overhear.
“Loved,” Annie whispered to Jordan. “I realize now that I was a fool. But as to why I loved him, I told you. No one ever wanted me. But when I met Arthur, he told me how pretty he thought I was. Of course he must have been exaggerating, but he was the first person to ever tell me such a thing. And I thought, oh, there is someone for everyone.”
Her face lit up then and Jordan had the insane urge to bury his fist in Eggleston’s gut. Jordan set down his fork and slid his hand over hers. “Annie,” he whispered.
Annie pulled her hand away and took a shaky sip of wine. “What I lack in beauty, I make up for in pluck,” she declared, the smile returning to her pretty face.
Jordan had to struggle to control his anger. This time he wanted to snap her idiot father’s neck. “You’re wrong,” he said quietly, staring her in the eye. “You’re very beautiful.”
Her breathing hitched and she glanced away. “You don’t have to say that.”
Jordan narrowed his eyes on her. “How old were you when your father died?”
“Fourteen.”
“Yes, well, he never should have implied that you weren’t beautiful, but you’ve grown into one of the loveliest young ladies I’ve ever seen.”
She laughed a self-conscious laugh. “Now I know you’re just being kind. I’ve seen your mistress.”
“God, Annie. Listen to me,” Jordan whispered. “You’re every bit as lovely as Nicoletta. More so, actually, because you are completely unaffected.”
Annie didn’t meet his gaze. She pushed her chair back and stood. “I hope you don’t find this too rude, my lord. But I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. Please excuse me.” She dashed from the room, her handkerchief pressed to her mouth, before Jordan could say a word.
He let her go, then thought better of it. He pushed his own chair aside, tossed his napkin to the table, and quickly followed Annie out the door. He saw a flash of pink enter the salon at the end of the hallway.
In several long strides, Jordan was at the door and rushed inside. Annie was pacing back and forth across the Aubusson rug, her arms wrapped across her middle.
“Are you all right?” he asked, feeling like a damned fool.
“I … just … need a moment.”
“Annie, look at me,” he commanded, and when her eyes met his he saw the unshed tears shining in their dark depths. She wasn’t crying. He’d expected her to be crying. Didn’t most females cry in circumstances like this? Nicoletta certainly would have. But then he realized the difference. Nicoletta wouldn’t have told him a story like that unless she wanted something from him. A trinket or some sympathy, it didn’t matter. But Annie hadn’t been trying to get anything from him. She’d just told him the truth and then she’d tried to leave his company so he wouldn’t see that she was upset. Nicoletta would have ensured he witnessed every moment of it.
He crossed over to Annie and took her chin firmly in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Your father was an idiot and I can’t believe that Arthur Eggleston was the first man to ever tell you how beautiful you are. But trust me, he was not the first man to think it.”
Annie tugged her chin away from his grasp and shook her head. “Jordan. Don’t. Please.”
He grasped her shoulders. “Listen to me, Annie. You must believe me. Why are you so upset?”
“Blast it, Annie. It sure as hell is true. Why would you think it’s not? Because of a few careless things your idiot father told you?”
She dashed her hands across her eyes. “No. Ronald Richardson said it too.”
“What? Who is Ronald Richardson?”
“A boy.” She took two steps away, wringing her hands. “The first boy I ever loved. Well, thought I loved … I fancied him for as long as I can remember.”
Jordan’s voice was calm, smooth. “What happened?”
“We were alone together once, in the meadow by my father’s house. It was exceedingly romantic. The wind was blowing. The sun was setting. I was sure he would kiss me.” Her voice trailed off.
“He didn’t?”
“No, he didn’t. He took me into his arms. He looked into my eyes, and he said, ‘Mud. Your eyes are the color of mud. Do you know that?’ Then he laughed … and asked if I wanted to go riding.”
Jordan cursed under his breath. Another person who needed his neck snapped. “He’s an idiot too. How old were you?”
She turned back to face him and shrugged. “Fifteen, perhaps. Sixteen. I thought he fancied me as much as I fancied him. But I realized that day, I wasn’t like the other girls. Not like Lily with her beautiful violet-blue eyes and tinkling laughter. I’m just Annie. The girl with the mud-colored eyes who’s everyone’s friend. The girl you go riding with. The girl you go shooting with. The girl who can drive a tandem team. Never the girl you take into your arms and kiss.”
Jordan reached her in one long stride and he pulled her to him, clutching her upper arms and searching her face. “Annie, listen to me, you’re much more than that.”
“No. I’m—”
“Damn it, you’ve been driving me mad for days now.”
“Wh … what?” Her eyes were wide.
“All I can think about is this.” Jordan’s mouth swooped down to capture hers. Annie’s head tilted back. Her hands went around his neck. Jordan’s hot mouth ravaged hers. His tongue pushed her lips apart and she melted against him. He scooped her up into his arms and in two long strides was at the settee. He sat down with her, never letting his mouth leave hers. Annie pressed herself against him. Her reaction to him was driving him even more insane. She tasted like honey, sweet and languorous. She smelled like lilacs and soap and happiness.
Jordan couldn’t remember the last time he was this on fire for a woman. His mistresses had all been worldly and wise, experienced enough to know exactly how to touch a man. But Annie’s innocent tongue was making him crazy. He pulled the pins from the top of her hair and the mass spilled down around her neck and shoulders. He buried his face in it. He knew it would be beautiful, as beautiful as she was. Then his mouth was back on hers and her hands were plowing through his hair, making him want to rip all the clothing from her body and make her his, right here on the settee in the middle of the salon. He briefly considered the odds of being interrupted by Aunt Clarissa. But that lady could barely find her way to her own room. He doubted she’d discover them. A poor, poor choice for a chaperone, he thought with a wry smile. He’d have to speak to Lily and Devon about it when they returned.
He kissed Annie’s cheek, her mouth, her neck, her earlobe. The little sounds she was making in the back of her throat made him rock hard. His mouth moved to her neck and he sucked there as if he were a very young man again, unable to go further with this woman. God, yes, Annie made him feel things he hadn’t felt in an age. But mostly she made him feel overwhelming, all-consuming lust.
His mouth went to her neck again, down, down, and he nuzzled at her décolletage. And she had such perfect breasts. Annie sucked in her breath sharply. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t do more. Annie was innocent and she was Devon’s sister-in-law. His mind kept repeating the warnings, but his hand moved to brush against her nipple. Annie gasped. His thumb flicked back and forth against her underneath her dress. Her breast wasn’t even bared to him but Jordan was so hard he hurt. He clenched his jaw and moved his mouth back up to hers. He kissed her until his lips were numb, kissed her until he couldn’t think straight anymore, kissed her until Annie pulled away from him slightly, looked at him with those soul-searching dark brown eyes, and whispered, “Jordan?”
Jordan drew a shaky breath. She was using his name. And she was asking him what was next. Jordan knew it deep down just like he knew that nothing could be next. It took every single modicum of strength he possessed—he would ever possess—to push her from his lap. He set her gently on the settee, took a deep breath, willing his overheated body back to normalcy, and stood. But he couldn’t face her. Not only would she see the stark evidence of his arousal, but there was every chance if he looked at her again, he would kiss her again, and next time he wouldn’t stop.
Jordan clenched his eyes shut and opened them again before making his way toward the door. He didn’t look back.
“My apologies, Annie.” He cursed under his breath and left without saying another word.
CHAPTER 28
Annie hurried into her room and closed the door behind her. She leaned back against it, expelled her breath, and closed her eyes. What in the devil’s name had that been about? How had the night begun with her telling Jordan about her past and ended with them locked in a torrid embrace upon the settee?
And, oh, God, what a torrid embrace it had been. Annie went hot and cold again just thinking about it. He’d touched her breast. No man had ever done that before. He’d touched her breast and made her feel things deep down she couldn’t explain. All she’d known was that she never wanted him to stop. She wanted to kiss him until she died. And she hadn’t even cared if they’d been discovered by a servant or Aunt Clarissa. Though Aunt Clarissa would probably pat her on the shoulder and say, “Well done,” she thought with a wry smile.
Annie crossed over to her bed and sat on the edge, contemplating her slippers and trying to make sense of what had just happened. It hadn’t been out of pity, had it? His kisses? Oh God, she couldn’t bear it if it had. But he hadn’t been dissembling, she knew that much. She’d felt the evidence of his arousal when she’d been sitting on his lap. Felt his hardness. She’d wanted to reach down and touch it, but she’d been too hesitant.
Instead, she’d wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him until her head was spinning. It felt so good. And his kisses were so unlike Arthur’s one inept attempt had been. When she kissed Jordan it was like drowning in a sea of molten honey. So sweet and rich and wonderful.
Annie shook her head. But what did all of it mean? Jordan had dragged her out to his estate, trotted his three brothers in front of her unsuccessfully, and now he was kissing her? Was the man such a rake he simply couldn’t keep his hands off any woman in his company? Was that it?
Oh, what did it matter? Regardless of his intentions, no good could come from her kissing him. She needed to get away from here. She needed to get back to London. She desperately wished for Lily. She missed her sister so.
Lily wasn’t there, but surely going back to London was the best choice. Oh God, she wasn’t even sure anymore exactly what she should do, but staying out here in the country being tempted by the most handsome man in the kingdom was not a good idea. Not a good idea at all. Oh, where the deuce was Lord Medford when you needed him?
She pressed her fingers to her aching temples. She needed some sleep, then she would make a plan. Yes, tomorrow she would pool her resources and ensure that she and Mary and Aunt Clarissa somehow made it back to London. Tonight, tonight she would rest.
And she just might replay the last half hour in the salon with Lord Ashbourne in her head while she drifted to sleep.
* * *
Jordan stalked into his bedchamber and slammed the door behind him. Damn it. What had that been about? He didn’t have any right doing that. Any of that. It made no sense. It must be
his self-imposed celibacy that was getting the best of him. What the hell was he thinking? There was something about Annie’s vulnerability and simple beauty that had drawn him in, and her story about her father and that idiot boy who’d told her she had mud-colored eyes had tugged at his heart.
Of course Eggleston said she was pretty. She was bloody gorgeous and she didn’t even know it. And that was the reason she’d thought she was in love with Eggleston? A tragedy.
Jordan paced the floor. His sojourn into the country with Annie was not progressing in the way he’d hoped. Not at all. Fine, he was willing to concede that his plan to introduce her to his brothers hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever concocted, but how could he know that Michael, Timothy, and Charlie wouldn’t want her? She was the perfect candidate for a wife. Yes, she caused trouble now and then, but once she settled down into marriage, he had no doubt she’d be a devoted wife and mother.
And what the hell had Charlie been talking about, telling Jordan he should marry her? That was insanity as well. He was attracted to her. He had to admit that to himself. But this couldn’t go on. He couldn’t keep her in his house for the remainder of the fortnight with just the two of them. No, damn it. He would find her a husband. His own brothers were fools, but there must be some man of breeding, good looks, fortune, and good taste who would know a perfectly fine choice of wife when he saw her. He would find that man.
Jordan stalked to the window and stared out into the blackness.
A ball.
He would host a ball. One intended solely to find Annie a husband. He’d invite every eligible bachelor from London and call in all his favors to ensure they attended. Yes. That’s what he would do. Next week. That way, by the time Devon and Lily returned, all that would be left to do would be to gain their blessing of the union and the contract could be signed. Perfect. He’d be solving Annie’s problem and his own simultaneously.
Get her off his hands and help his two friends.
Secrets of a Runaway Bride Page 17