Her puzzlement vanished with a soft snicker.
“What is so humorous, princess?”
“Your impression of my social demand is rather amusing.”
She didn’t expound, leaving him bemused. “I don’t follow.”
“Your perception that my evening will be filled with endless dances is inaccurate. While there will unquestionably be dancing, I will not be partaking.”
“A lack of suitable bachelors in the country who met your lofty standards?”
She didn’t even blink at his insolence. “If not for the complete absurdity of your assessment, I’d be gravely offended. My lack of dancing has nothing to do with a deficiency in eligible partners but rather the complete absence of any partner.”
He’d like to think he wasn’t such a dolt he couldn’t comprehend simple speech, but at the moment he hadn’t a clue what she spoke of.
“I’m afraid you have me at a loss. Care to explain?”
A faint blush warmed her creamy cheeks, though she didn’t turn away. “In plain speaking, Mr. Frederickson, no one asks me to dance.”
He wanted to accuse her of lying, or at least embellishing, but the palpable tension drifting from her spoke the truth. He also suspected the statement had cost her more than slight embarrassment. He immediately regretted forcing her to reveal it.
She continued in a rush, “Don’t you dare pity me. I have no wish to dance with most of the men in attendance anyhow. They are either too shallow or too conceited to conduct anything remotely close to an actual conversation.”
He released a full laugh that had nothing to do with her adorably annoyed expression. His humor streamed from the absurdity of the entire situation.
Even making her acquaintance a scant day before, countless thoughts of her tempting body had stirred his thoughts. Not to mention the seductiveness of her immensely kissable lips—when she wasn’t spewing insults at his head. What was he thinking? He desired a taste of her lips even then.
Her social sphere had to be filled with the dumbest of men. Maybe she was merely ignorant to their attentions. The entire realm of English lords couldn’t be blind. Could they?
Yes, her allure was subtle, and perhaps her rather haughty behavior extended to all men, but surely someone had noticed the potential passion within her.
During his scrutiny she remained completely still, as if cataloging his possible appeal. Nate struggled between discomfort under her directness and resorting to form by flashing her a saucy grin paired with a wink.
He settled for doing neither. Some unknown force in him wanted her to see him as someone other than a charmer; more than the man he presented to the world. Which was absurd considering he’d met her only yesterday and he didn’t particularly like her.
Hesitant to investigate the unfamiliar notion, he broke the silence. “Whether or not you will be dancing is not the issue. Your attempt to flee my protection, less than twelve hours after our agreement, is disconcerting.”
Any sense of calm drained from her face, which was fine by him. He rather preferred the flash of fire burning hot in her blue-green eyes.
“You, Mr. Frederickson, are a very exasperating man!”
She raised a hand to halt him when he opened his month to defend himself. “Before you begin yet another lecture, let me clarify. My dismissal of your services has nothing to do with escaping your clutches, despite wanting that above all else. I can hardly visit the home of a friend with a bodyguard. My place may be with the other bluestockings and wallflowers on the side of the ballroom, but I refuse to subject my reputation to whatever rumors would sprout from you being my shadow. If not for myself, then for the standing of the school. Families would hardly be encouraged to send their young daughters to an institution of learning run by someone with a less than sterling reputation. That, Mr. Frederickson, is my reasoning.”
He should have felt chastened, and maybe he did slightly, but regardless of her reasoning—possibly valid—there had to be more to it. Only hours earlier, she’d attempted to sneak from the house. Either way he wouldn’t blindly take her word.
At the moment though, the situation was out of his hands. The lady had a valid argument. He couldn’t prowl through a house full of the upper crust and salvage her reputation. He’d have to find a way to keep her protected from outside the party. It wasn’t his nature to stay away completely.
In no way would he let her know he agreed with her. Instead, he addressed the next best thing.
“Nate.”
“Pardon?” She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.
“I can count at least three times during this conversation when you’ve addressed me as Mr. Frederickson. As much as I appreciate your need to be all prim and proper, I have no desire to be called Mr. Frederickson endlessly. My name is Nate.”
As many possible outcomes as he’d expected regarding his request, her wide-eyed gawp had not been one of them. Surely she’d called a man by his given name before. It wasn’t as if his request was completely unheard of. Maybe unconventional, and surely a tad scandalous, but there were worse things he could have propositioned her with.
Her continued silence began to unnerve him.
“It isn’t as if I’m asking to refer to you as Annabel.” He savored the sound of her name on his lips without the typically attached Lady. Though unsure why, he felt they were on the same level without her title and status affixed to her name. “Would it be completely unreasonable for you to call me Nate when not in public?”
“Yes . . . no . . . well . . .”
He found her fumbling for an answer rather fitting. She’d had him floundering for his own footing since the moment they’d met. Mostly because he struggled between wanting to strangle her maddening rebelliousness, and thinking of what her lips would taste like. Thankfully the desire to throttle her remained victorious.
She visibly pulled herself together by straightening her shoulders and in doing so brought her refined persona out in full force.
“I will think on it.”
Nate suspected her answer was a politely given ‘no.’ At least she hadn’t attached another Mr. Frederickson to it.
Seeing as they stood outside the front door of the house, he decided now was not the time to change her mind.
Reluctantly conceding to her request that he avoid her evening engagement, Nate had to force acquiescence through his teeth. “In honor of your reputation, I will not enter your fancy soiree.”
Perhaps it would be too late before she realized he hadn’t agreed to stay away entirely. Even if he followed on horseback and hid in the shadows, he would be attending.
Chapter 10
From her position against the wall, Anna observed endless couples twirling through dance after dance. Once again, no one had requested her as a partner, and she didn’t care. She had other things occupying her mind. Mostly her victory of finally being away from Mr. Frederickson.
Nate. She whispered his name in her head, liking how those four letters had a way of fitting him. As with the man, it sounded direct yet held some hidden appeal that, however much she wanted to, she couldn’t resist.
Even though she might not be ready to vocalize his name, nothing stopped her from silently enjoying the simple intimacy.
She shook her head despairingly. Now she merely waxed fanciful, and as a rule she was never fanciful. In fact, she rather despised the word. There was too much at stake to lose herself in whimsical notions.
Although she hated to admit it, something had shifted between her and Nate after their conversation. Most noticeably, she no longer had a strong desire for him to walk off a cliff.
Anna stared with unfocused eyes at the whirl of colors passing before her. She usually found the Witterson annual ball enjoyable. Since most of the guests were more friends and neighbors than
simply society equals, they had a shared commonality. Yet apparently not enough to find her a dance partner. She was starting to wonder if people thought she abhorred dancing.
Nevertheless, she often found adequate conversation to occupy her. But tonight, no matter how much she wished otherwise, her thoughts inexplicably strayed to Mr. Frederickson.
Nate.
Which was rather unfortunate since she hadn’t been completely honest. Everything she’d said to keep him from the Witterson’s had been true. Her deceit lay with omitting her main motive. I have graduated from thief to liar.
An evolution she found disquieting. Her only excuse, the idea that a desperate woman might contemplate what she never thought possible.
Most alarming of all, she hadn’t even batted an eye in her deception.
Instead of being proud of her feat, it felt as if she’d swallowed a stone and it—along with all the heaviness from borrowing from her father—weighed deep on her soul. If not careful, she’d find herself buried beneath the burden.
Though her exasperating bodyguard—Nate—had left her no choice. If she didn’t pay Mr. Rollins with her latest acquisition, he’d shut down the school . . . and expose all her sins along with it. He’d threatened it enough for her to know it was no bluff.
The ball had given her an opportunity she couldn’t ignore. Thankfully she’d had time to get a summons to Mr. Rollins to meet her in the Witterson’s garden during the supper dance.
Her fingers tightened on her reticule. One more dance and she’d be free of the wretched artifact. At least physically. She was beginning to understand she’d never be free of her deceit. Even originating from the noblest of intentions.
As the final bars of the music concluded and couples begun to pair for the supper dance, she slowly made her way to the doorway leading to a small terrace and garden. To keep from being missed, she would need to make her business with Mr. Rollins as brief as possible. She already risked more than she cared to think about.
With the guests preparing to converge on the food, the terrace was blessedly empty and the darkened sky enabled her to reach the garden unnoticed. Unfortunately, the darkness also kept her from hurrying in fear she’d become entangled in a bush. The last thing she needed was to return to the party with twigs in her hair or a tear in her dress.
Anna approached the side garden door unhindered. But as Mr. Rollins, dressed in all black, slipped into the moonlight, hesitation crept down her back. The man she once thought her savior in her fight to keep the school open had become her jailer. She should have known not to trust the benevolence of someone who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere with his offer to fund the school with a loan. Desperation to see its preservation as a memorial to her mother—and to keep control from the board—was her only explanation for making a deal with a man clearly in league with the devil.
“Lady Annabel, such a lovely evening,” Mr. Rollins’ slimy voice greeted her.
As usual, she struggled to match the man’s handsome features with the vileness she suspected existed behind his allure. Most likely not yet thirty, he had charm and grace in plenty. Her distrust didn’t sit with his outward attributes. His increasing demands that she owed beyond the initially agreed upon amount due to unforeseen—and entirely fabricated—expenditures had stopped ringing true weeks earlier.
“Mr. Rollins, thank you for agreeing to meet me on such short notice.” As much as she might detest the man, he alone stood between her and ruin. “I have your latest payment.”
Though they appeared alone, Anna couldn’t chance the possibility a guest or two might utilize the darkened garden for their own purpose. To keep their dealings private, she stepped as close to Mr. Rollins as her body would allow without feeling sickened.
From her reticule she pulled the latest evidence of how far she’d fallen, and reluctantly placed it into Mr. Rollins’ outstretched hand. Once it slipped into his pocket and out of her sight, she feared she’d never have the power to restore it back to her father. Guilt clawed its way past her misgivings and caused tears to prick the back of her eyes.
She was slowly losing faith in her ability to win back the school and to repay her father.
Mr. Rollins turned his attention to her. “This should be sufficient to cover your back payments but there is still the matter of what is currently due.”
Her heart fell to her feet. “We agreed tonight’s payment would bring the debt to good standing until next quarter’s payment.”
“That was before it took a fortnight to complete this deposit. Any amount that would have been applied to the current principal will be used to cover the additional interest.”
She bit her tongue to keep from arguing with the despicable cad. She knew—and she was quite positive he also knew—there was no delay. Due to the nature of her payments, something he’d willingly accepted, the agreed upon terms of reimbursement allowed additional time for her to procure the items.
A fact he was well aware of. Especially considering he’d been the one to suggest the use of her father’s collection when incoming money from the school had dwindled.
She bit back her retort, in no position to argue. Given his glare of triumph, he enjoyed her powerless predicament.
He slid closer. Refusing to show further weakness, she stood firm. “One more fortnight, Lady Annabel. If you don’t have payment, I’ll have no option but to call the note and take the school.”
With nothing to say, she turned for the sanctuary of the house. Halting her escape, his fingers latched onto her arm, bruising the skin beneath his grasp.
“Do I need to remind you what would happen if your father learned he is housing a thief?”
She yanked her arm free and fled, ignoring his threat. No acknowledgement was needed. They were both aware she’d lost control of the situation the moment she’d made a deal with the devil dressed as a gentleman.
What the hell is she doing now?
Even from his position some distance away and the disadvantage of the darkness, Nate surmised Lady Annabel’s garden encounter was no lovers’ tryst. And not because he suspected her incapable of something as adventurous as a secret paramour.
Everything about the situation had his instincts on high alert. Her body language spoke volumes. It was obvious she and her nighttime visitor weren’t on friendly terms. Had the encounter been deliberate or had she simply happened upon the man? The stranger hadn’t been invited to the party. At least not by official invitation.
Nate had spied him slipping into the garden from an outside entrance a short time before Lady Annabel’s appearance, whereas an invited guest would have accessed the garden from the ballroom.
When Lady Annabel had first ventured beyond the balcony to the garden, Nate had fought the urge to rush from his cover of foliage to explain quite fiercely what dangers awaited a young woman under the cover of night. Even a woman who had a unique way of hiding her charms behind a very convincing disguise of a nondescript bluestocking.
Curious as to what her purpose might be, Nate remained still. With her in his sights, he’d be able to interfere before something untoward occurred.
Words weren’t needed to know whatever the two had been discussing, planned or not, Lady Annabel was not pleased with the results. From his vantage point, Nate watched her hurry back to the party while he kept an eye on the mysterious man. If he wanted to discover her secrets, the visitor held the answers.
Nate’s hackles rose as the man continued to peer after Lady Annabel, even after she’d disappeared from sight. Just like the night’s shadows chased away the light of the day, the further she’d moved away, the more the stranger’s gentlemanly mask ebbed. Until all that remained was something Nate always discovered resided below the surface of his most dangerous targets . . . pure evil.
The man paused a moment, patted the pocket
of his jacket, then turned for the garden exit, disappearing from Nate’s sight.
Giving chase, Nate darted after. He burst through the wooden door, only to find a cloud of dust kicked up from the man’s fleeing horse. With it, the answers he craved. Damn.
All he had to show for his sneaking about were more questions. Had Lady Annabel planned the encounter? If so, why secretly meet with a man who was clearly no gentleman?
What else was the pretty miss hiding?
As the night swallowed man and horse, Nate’s focus shifted from the stranger to hunting down the truth from one maddening female.
Chapter 11
The day after Nate discovered Lady Annabel might be more interesting than the straight-laced bluestocking he’d taken her for, he found himself back at her beloved school.
And back in the corner of her office like a wayward schoolboy.
Only today he wasn’t sending murderous scowls in her direction, forced to watch her tending to tedious school activities. No, today he was busy trying to dissect the lady as she shuffled from one chore to the next.
Visually she was the same annoying miss who’d been tying him in knots since Lawson had forced the assignment on him. Her yellow dress seemed as demure and serviceable as the light blue gown she’d wore the day before. No unnecessary bit of skin was allowed to make an appearance.
Yet something was different. From their first meeting he’d unwisely desired her. Even while he’d fought the impulse to strangle her.
What pulsed through him today was more than basic craving. He was intrigued. The bluestocking wallflower had managed to engage every instinct he’d honed for the last five years.
The Runner's Enticement (Men of Circumstance Book 2) Page 6