by Diane Gaston
‘A governess certainly can be part of a family dinner,’ he countered. ‘I want you there, Anna.’
She straightened. ‘Are you ordering me as my employer?’
Those words hurt him, she could see. ‘If you wish to put it that way.’ He stood and paced in the space in front of the chairs. ‘Anna, I want you there. It is important to me.’ He paused and looked down at her. ‘But it is your choice.’
What did it matter? It was only one evening. She rose from her chair, but did not realise that doing so put her perilously close to him. Her senses hummed with the proximity.
‘I will attend, if that is your wish,’ she said in a quiet voice.
‘Anna.’ He reached for her, but withdrew his arm.
She could not bear it if he touched her, but she also could not resist looking into his eyes.
His eyes darkened in response. ‘Anna,’ he murmured again.
He stepped back. ‘They will arrive at eight and we will dine at nine. I presume you have a suitable gown?’
‘Yes.’ She had brought one passable dress with her.
He smiled again. ‘Excellent. It is kind of you to agree to this, when I know you do not wish it.’
She did not smile in return. ‘I will manage, my lord.’
* * *
That afternoon as Brent walked back from St. James’s Street, he encountered Yates, walking in the same direction. After exchanging greetings, they wound up walking together.
Yates looked burdened.
‘Are you in some difficulty, Yates?’ Brent asked.
Yates looked surprised. ‘Does it show? Forgive me, Brent. It is nothing of consequence. A tangle with my investments right when I need some ready cash for the estate.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘And I just had to let my man of business go.’
‘It sounds like something of consequence indeed,’ Brent commented. ‘Is there some way I can help?’
Yates gaped at him. ‘Brent, you are the last person I would prevail upon for help.’
Brent agreed. ‘Yes. It is unlikely for me to offer.’
In some ways he felt a kinship with Yates. They’d both hurt Eunice irreparably.
Brent went on. ‘I have another unlikely idea to offer. Come to dinner tonight. I am having a very small party. Just my cousin and Lord and Lady Rolfe. And their daughter. I am to marry her, you might as well know.’
‘Marry?’ he cried. ‘Did I miss this announcement?’
Brent shook his head. ‘We have not formally announced it.’
Yates responded, ‘I should not intrude on your dinner party.’
Brent frowned. ‘It would be a good thing for you to attend. Undoubtedly the Rolfes know of our—our previous relationship. It will reassure them that the scandal about us is gone.’
Yates looked sceptical.
‘Besides, my cousin and Mr Rolfe might have some ideas about how to untangle your financial difficulties.’ He added, ‘You will not be the only person outside the family. Miss Hill will be attending as well.’
‘Then perhaps I will attend.’ Yates glanced at Brent. ‘I mean, I would be honoured to attend.’
Chapter Fifteen
Anna’s maid and Eppy both became quite excited that she would be attending this dinner. She had packed one good dress, but it was a rather plain white muslin. Eppy found some dusty pink ribbon and white lace, goodness knew from where, and worked all day at embellishing the gown. The maid made a special effort to arrange her hair, threading some of the ribbon through her tresses. Anna added the very lightest tint of pink to her lips and wore her new gloves and stockings. She dabbed her new scent on her neck and in the peek of décolletage the neckline of her dress revealed.
The three women surveyed the result in a full-length mirror.
The peek of lace softened the neckline and sleeves, and the ribbon encircled the empire waist and draped into a bow whose tails fell nearly to the gown’s hem.
Eppy declared, ‘You look the very image of a fashion print!’
Anna hoped that was true. She was usually not so vain, but this night she wanted her appearance to compare favourably with Miss Rolfe’s. Anna knew that Miss Rolfe came close to the perfect image of feminine beauty and Anna did not, but she at least wanted to look her very best.
She surveyed herself. ‘It wants jewellery of some sort, but I suppose a governess is not expected to own jewellery.’
‘You look every bit like a lady,’ insisted the maid.
The clock struck the quarter-hour. Anna was running late.
An attack of nerves hit her and she pressed her hand against her stomach. ‘I should go now. Thank you both very much.’
‘Lord Brentmore will be dazzled.’ Eppy grinned.
Anna had to admit that was what she wanted most—to dazzle Lord Brentmore.
It was not at all admirable of her to wish to command his attention. She should, by rights, dress to blend into the woodwork, as Lady Lawton always insisted she do and as the daughter of a laundress ought. Half her blood, however, was aristocratic and, just this once, she wanted to show that part of her.
With butterflies still fluttering inside her, she walked down the stairs and entered the drawing room.
Two gentlemen turned.
‘Mr Yates!’ Anna exclaimed.
He stepped forwards. ‘It is good to see you again, Miss Hill. I trust you are well.’
‘Yes, I am,’ she responded. ‘I did not know you would be here.’
The other gentleman in the room was, of course, Lord Brentmore. ‘I invited him this afternoon.’
She felt Lord Brentmore’s eyes flick over her, but his expression gave away nothing of his opinion of her appearance.
Mr Yates was more forthright. ‘May I say you are in excellent looks this evening, Miss Hill.’
‘I hope I will do.’ She slid a glance to Lord Brentmore.
The marquess turned his back. ‘May I pour you a glass of port, Anna?’ he asked.
She was tempted to use port to calm her nerves. ‘I will wait for the other ladies, I believe.’ She turned to a chair in the corner. ‘Please continue your conversation. I do not wish to intrude.’
‘You do not intrude, Anna,’ Lord Brentmore said, an edge of annoyance in his voice. He took a sip of his port.
‘How do the children fare?’ Yates asked her.
She could tell he tried to keep his voice neutral. ‘Very well, thank you.’
‘Have you taken more walks in Hyde Park?’
She could tell he had chosen his words carefully and that he yearned to ask her more, but could not with Lord Brentmore present.
She wanted to give Yates something of the happenings of his daughter’s life. ‘We have been busy with dressmakers and tailors.’ She inclined her head to Lord Brentmore. ‘Their father has generously wished them to be fitted for entire new wardrobes.’
‘How nice for them,’ Yates said in a polite voice.
‘I dare say they detested the task,’ Lord Brentmore added.
She wondered why he had invited this man, but because she was not supposed to know who Yates was, she could never ask.
‘Have you called upon Lady Charlotte?’ Yates asked her.
He would have overheard her entire conversation with Charlotte.
She lowered her voice. ‘I have not the opportunity.’
Brentmore walked over, taking Yates’s empty glass from him. ‘Did she wish you to call, Anna?’
She lifted her gaze to him. ‘She asked, but I cannot call upon her.’
Brentmore returned to the side table and filled Yates’s glass. He walked back to hand it to him.
‘How are you acquainted with Lady Charlotte?’ Yates asked her.
‘I was her companion before becoming governess to Lord Brentmore’s children.’ She hoped he did not ask for more explanation than that.
He did not. ‘Will you attend her ball?’ he asked instead.
‘No,’ she murmured.
‘You should attend, Anna.’ Lord Brentm
ore still sounded annoyed with her.
She faced him. ‘You know I cannot.’
She caught Yates looking from her to Brentmore.
Davies came to the door. ‘Lord and Lady Rolfe, Miss Rolfe, Mr Caine.’
Lord Brentmore crossed the room to greet them. ‘Welcome,’ he said.
Anna remained where she was, as did Yates. She braced herself to witness Brentmore’s manner towards Miss Rolfe.
He bowed to her and to her mother and shook hands with her father and his cousin. Miss Rolfe curtsied.
As the group exchanged more pleasantries, Yates remarked to Anna, ‘One wonders about this betrothal. It came as a surprise to me.’
And to Anna, of course.
When the greetings were done, Lord Brentmore glanced over at Anna.
She and Yates joined them.
Anna was presented to Lord and Lady Rolfe.
‘You are known to Miss Rolfe and my cousin,’ Lord Brentmore added.
Anna curtsied. ‘How do you do, Miss Rolfe?’
‘I am so pleased to see you again,’ Miss Rolfe said, sounding very genuine.
When Brentmore introduced Mr Yates to Lord and Lady Rolfe, Anna saw the shock of recognition on their faces. They knew who Mr Yates was to the marquess.
Poor Mr Yates. He saw their expressions as well.
Lady Rolfe led her daughter around the room, remarking at the décor, and probably thinking that it would all be her daughter’s one day. The gentlemen busied themselves with more port.
Anna stepped back, out of the way, convinced more than ever that she did not belong in this party.
Lady Rolfe finished her survey of the room. She addressed Lord Brentmore, ‘Brentmore, my dear, I would love a tour of the house.’
‘Mama!’ Miss Rolfe turned a bright shade of pink. ‘You mustn’t ask.’
Brentmore said, ‘I ought to have offered. Of course, you will be curious about the house. I don’t like to leave the gentlemen....’ His voice trailed off. He directed his gaze at Anna. ‘Would you take the ladies on a tour of the house while there is still some daylight, Anna?’
She stiffened, but replied, ‘As you wish, my lord.’
She led them out the door and started the tour with Lord Brentmore’s library on this level, trying hard not to recall her encounters with him in the room.
After the library she said, ‘Let us go to the first floor. You will see the dining room later.’
They climbed the stairs and she showed them the two large drawing rooms there. ‘There is a folding door that, when opened, doubles the size.’
‘Perfect for a ball, Susan,’ Lady Rolfe remarked to her daughter.
Anna waited near the door while Lady Rolfe completed her inspection. She next showed them a cosier sitting room behind the other two rooms.
She took them next to the second floor. ‘There are two bedrooms on this level.’ She gestured to one closed door. ‘That is Lord Brentmore’s bedchamber.’ She opened a second door. ‘This room was once the marchioness’s.’
Lady Rolfe entered the room eagerly. Her daughter merely stepped inside.
‘Is there a connecting door between the two bedchambers?’ Lady Rolfe asked.
Anna felt sharp pain inside her. ‘I do not know, ma’am.’
She showed them the dressing rooms and the lady’s maid’s room, as well.
She merely pointed to the third floor. ‘There are five bedrooms on that level, currently being used as the nursery, for the children, their nurse and me.’
‘The children must be sleeping,’ Miss Rolfe said in a kind voice.
‘Yes. If you will forgive me, I’d prefer not to take you up there and risk waking them.’ She also did not want them looking into her room.
‘I agree,’ Miss Rolfe said.
They walked down the stairs again to the ground level. ‘The kitchen and the servants’ rooms are below, of course.’
They returned to the gentlemen.
‘Did you make a full inventory, my dear?’ Lord Rolfe asked his wife.
She smiled. ‘It was very helpful to see where our daughter will some day be in residence.’
Miss Rolfe turned to Anna. ‘Will you sit with me, Miss Hill?’
‘Of course.’ How could she refuse?
‘Tell me about the children,’ Miss Rolfe requested. ‘I know so little of them.’
Lord Brentmore apparently did not discuss the children’s troubles with his fiancée. Anna was certainly not going to be the one to talk of Cal and Dory’s difficulties.
‘They are very clever.’ Anna talked about their lessons, matters that would likely be expected of a governess.
Finally Davies announced the dinner. Anna was surprised to see that Lord and Lady Rolfe were seated at each side of Lord Brentmore, who headed the table. Miss Rolfe sat next to her father and Mr Caine sat next to her. Mr Yates was placed next to Lady Rolfe and Anna next to him.
Lady Rolfe did not seem to have much to say to Mr Yates, and, across the table, Miss Rolfe and Brentmore’s cousin seemed to have a great deal to talk about together and with Lord Rolfe. Yates and Anna were left with each other.
It was an excruciatingly long dinner.
Anna’s attention could not help but be drawn to Miss Rolfe. It was a puzzle. She and Lord Brentmore were little more than cordial to each other, but, seated next to his cousin, Miss Rolfe seemed to blossom.
At one point, Yates bent to her ear. ‘Do you make the same observation as I do?’
She watched more intently before responding, ‘They are clearly attached.’
‘Very attached, would you not say?’ he added.
‘But, then, why—?’ She did not need to complete her thought.
Mr Yates explained, ‘Word is that Rolfe is in financial distress. His daughter needs to make a good match to a generous and wealthy man. Mr Caine owns property, but his finances are only marginally better than Rolfe’s.’
She peered at him. ‘How do you know this?’
He gave a sad smile. ‘Word gets around. The end of the war has left many of us struggling, and this summer’s crops are not doing well with all this cold weather.’
The weather was part of the reason so many of the ton were still in London in August.
Anna glanced from Miss Rolfe to Lord Brentmore. His gaze caught hers. He continued to appear displeased with her. It baffled her. She’d come to his party and made the best of it. What had she done to displease him?
‘The web becomes more tangled as we speak,’ said Mr Yates.
* * *
Brent held Anna’s gaze for a moment. Was she deliberately seeking Yates’s attention, or was it merely because they were seated together? He wished he had paid more attention to Davies’s question of where to seat everyone.
He wished he had not invited Yates.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now it felt like a repeat of history. Except Anna was not Eunice and not obligated to keep any wedding vows.
If she had been Eunice, then undoubtedly the flirtation would have been a deliberate ploy to shame and embarrass her husband. How many times had he watched Eunice initiate a seduction right in front of his eyes, all the while appearing as if she merely was engaging in conversation?
Anna’s face, however, showed nothing of Eunice’s contempt. She looked confused and hurt.
Perhaps he should be wary of Yates. Was the man deliberately seeking out Anna, and, if so, was Yates trying to wound him further?
Brent forced his eyes away and asked Lord Rolfe a question.
When the man launched into a loquacious response, Brent’s gaze wandered back to Anna.
He had to admit she looked beautiful this evening with her upswept curls and unadorned dress, like a statue of Aphrodite he’d once seen in his travels. She’d so taken his breath away when she’d entered the drawing room that he’d had to look away.
The last course was finished and it was time for the ladies to retire and the gentlemen to remain for brandy.
/> Anna, her head held high, left the room with Miss Rolfe and her mother. Brent had not thought the evening through in enough detail to realise Anna would be left with the two ladies. He felt guilty for making her do what she so clearly did not wish to do, but he still believed he was right. She and Miss Rolfe needed to become accustomed to each other.
Miss Rolfe. More reason for him to feel guilty. He’d hardly spoken to her all evening. He must make certain to rectify that.
Peter, Lord Rolfe and Yates were talking about the financial stresses of the times.
‘I do not know what we would do without the Corn Laws,’ Lord Rolfe said. ‘If Great Britain were to import foreign grain, it would be the end of me, I’ll tell you that.’
‘It has caused a great deal of unrest,’ Yates commented.
People were hungry, Brent thought, remembering long days in Ireland when he and his grandfather had not enough to eat.
He let the discussion wash over him, without debating either side of the issue. His fortune could weather these difficult times. He and his children would never want for anything and he could still afford to help those most unfortunate.
And men like Lord Rolfe, who had indeed accepted the money Brent transferred to him.
They finished their brandy and Peter suggested they return to the women.
When they walked out of the dining room, Yates fell into step with Brent. ‘You were quite quiet during the discussion, Brent. Is there anything amiss?’
Brent was taken aback. ‘I didn’t realise. No, nothing is amiss.’ He did not realise his preoccupation showed, he meant.
‘I hope you do not regret inviting me,’ Yates said.
‘Why would you think so?’ Brent asked.
‘I noticed you looking my way from time to time.’ Yates slid him a glance. ‘Or perhaps it was Miss Hill who concerned you.’
‘Concerned me?’ Yates saw too much, Brent thought. ‘I think it was more a case of my rethinking the seating arrangement.’
‘Putting me near the Rolfes would have proved awkward,’ Yates responded. ‘They seem uncomfortable conversing with me.’
‘I am sorry for it.’ Brent slowed his pace as he and Yates crossed the hall. ‘I still think it is a good idea to be seen together. If we can forget the conflict between us, the ton will soon forget, as well, but if we continue to feud, we keep the talk alive.’