A footman took the glass from her and brought a clean one and a pitcher of lemonade. She did not partake often of spirits, and from the topic being discussed with Mr. Archer, she knew she must keep her wits about her. After a sip, she dared a glance in his direction.
He did not look away when she met his eyes and for a moment the rest of the guests, the table, the candles and every single other person and item in the room faded away into darkness. Anna could only see him and could feel and hear the promise and expectation in his words about kissing her again. She felt something pulse deep within her as her body reacted to him as a woman to a man. Her breasts seemed to swell against her stays and a tingling grew in her belly. Being honest with herself, she dared to hope it would happen soon. For once the essay came out, everything between them would shift and unsettle.
A cough and then another brought her back to the reality of the dining room and she broke away and looked across the table at Clarinda. A suspicious glimmer in her friend’s eyes warned her of something coming. It was not long before Lord MacLerie raised his voice and spoke to everyone at table.
“Mr. Archer, I understand that you work for Lord Treybourne.”
“I do,” he answered, glancing across at Nathaniel and then at her.
“All we know of his lordship is the view of him presented in his opinion pieces in Whiteleaf’s. Surely there is more to the man than rage and insult?”
Oh, good Lord! Had Clarinda or Nathaniel put him up to this? Anna tried to remain calm and to take note of any important facets of Lord Treybourne that Mr. Archer revealed.
“I find him to be a fair employer, Lord MacLerie. And although he favors remaining loyal and constant to those institutions that have made His Majesty’s kingdom strong, he is not oblivious to the problems facing it.”
“He owns lands here in Scotland, yet he doesna come here?” Mr. Campbell asked now.
“I believe there is a hunting box and a property or two here in Edinburgh. His lordship manages several of the large estates for his family and cannot always find time to spend on each of their properties.” Mr. Archer faced Robert now. “As the owner of about the same amount of land and properties, Lord MacLerie, how often do you find yourself in London?”
“Your point is well taken, sir, but even you must admit that his position in the forefront of the Tory party has become a rallying point.”
“As has Mr. Goodfellow’s with the Whigs.”
Anna listened as the discussion continued and soon realized that Mr. Archer was presenting the clear, rational and logical method in which Lord Treybourne made his points. If she could strip away the rhetoric, argue the points and then apply her own style back to it, she—or rather, Goodfellow—could tear his position apart. Part of her wanted to laugh aloud at the prospect, but another part was cognizant that she was taking advantage of the man beside her to accomplish that aim.
She shifted in her seat and looked at Clarinda, only to discover her friend watching her. At her raised eyebrow, Anna shook her head slightly. It felt dishonest to handle it this way. She would rather fight his lordship outright than win by this underhanded method.
“Gentlemen, if I might suggest that you join us in the drawing room after your port?”
Clarinda understood her message and interrupted the discussion as a hostess could. The men stood as she did and waited for the women to leave before sitting back and drinking their port. Anna followed down the stairs, uncomfortable with the thought that Mr. Archer was still the target.
“My wife was unhappy with our line of questioning, sir,” Lord MacLerie announced as they enjoyed their first glass of the deep red liquor. “She thought to call an end to the inquisition.”
“Although I cannot speak for his lordship, I will field any questions you care to ask.”
David understood exactly what was happening during dinner. He suspected that the elusive Mr. Goodfellow was present here tonight and using this as a way to gain information to be used against him in the next essay. It was what David would have done, use subterfuge to understand his opponent. What he had done by coming to Edinburgh. Now, excited by the very thought that the man was here in the room, he waited for the next round to begin.
The discussion continued through three bottles of port, and several of the men lit cheroots. David found himself enjoying it, for it gave him the chance to work out some of the flaws in his logic so that he would be ready for the next article. At one point, using the arguments he put forth in a previous essay, he nearly swayed Mr. Robertson to his—or rather to the official—position espoused by Lord Treybourne. With the man’s thick Scottish brogue and rolled inflections, it was difficult to tell at times.
Although he continued to suspect Nathaniel, David wondered if Lord MacLerie could be the writer. He was educated, opinionated, well-spoken and articulate in his position on the various topics of parliamentary reform, social improvements and commerce. With his money and power, although centered in the western Highlands, Lord MacLerie would be able to financially back the magazine to keep it on its feet until it was a success. The family connections to Nathaniel made it a perfect fit. So, was he A. J. Goodfellow then?
Before he could pursue his own questions, a footman arrived with a request from the ladies for the gentlemen to join them for entertainment in the drawing room. Sensing that the questions were at an end, David now looked forward to spending some time with Anna. He walked with the men downstairs and the topic of their discussions changed to horses and even harvests among their distant farmlands, both subjects that interested him.
As they entered the drawing room, a trio of musicians were tuning their instruments, and the furniture had been cleared to the perimeter of the room, all indications that dancing was in order. Anna would never attend a social event in London, or at least one at which the high and mighty Lord Treybourne attended, so he relished the thought of guiding her through a dance here in this informal setting.
Lady MacLerie claimed him to start the set and he smiled and watched as Anna took Nathaniel’s hand. It wasn’t until a country dance, the third of the evening, that he could get her as his partner. And, frustrating him even more, it was a new dance to him and he needed to pay heed to the movements to avoid tripping himself or the others dancing. When one of the dances called for four couples, he bowed out and walked to the table where refreshments were offered. His wish was answered as Anna walked to his side there.
“I remember that the cider gave you some problems at dinner, Miss Fairchild. May I get you something else to drink?”
“Tea would be pleasing right now, sir.”
The blush on her cheeks could be from the exertion of the dancing, but he hoped it was for the same reason as the one at dinner. David had been thinking of their kiss and had been watching her mouth as she spoke. His promise to repeat it was bold and risked impertinence, but once he said it, he knew it to be true. Her eyes betrayed her thoughts as well, for her cheeks colored then and her gaze went to his mouth.
She’d been remembering it, too, for her breathing became erratic and David’s body reacted in the normal way. But, he was not a man ruled by his baser instincts, not in many years, and assuredly not where someone like Anna was involved. Not any woman who could not be his wife.
He waited as the footman poured for both of them and then led her to the sitting area, where she took a place on one of the long couches. Instead of sitting beside her, he sat in the chair next to it and turned it slightly so he could face her better while they talked. “Should you like to ask more questions about his lordship, please do so now so we can move onto more pleasant topics before the night is done.”
“Your directness is refreshing, Mr. Archer,” she said, laughing softly. “Would it offend you if I asked?”
When her brown eyes shimmered with glee and turned the shade of warm brandy, she could ask him anything. He cleared his throat. “Not at all.”
“What is he like? I do not mean his political views, but his person. Nathaniel
revealed that they were at school together so I know their ages are near, but his attitudes seem so much…”
“Stodgier?”
“Older, I was going to say.”
He laughed, but considered carefully his choice of words and how to answer her. He wanted to somehow redeem Lord Treybourne, himself, in her eyes once she inevitably learned the truth. David was not a fool and realized that Anna would discover the truth. Bloody hell! Why had he ever thought this was a good plan?
“He is subject to all the same pressures as those in positions of authority and who own land or businesses or estates, Miss Fairchild. The welfare of those in his service is utmost in his concerns.”
“So, are you saying that his personal opinions and those put forth in his public statements differ?”
Now he was caught, for to admit to such a thing would give away too much. He could not betray the arrangements he had with his father or all of his interests would be in jeopardy. “I would hazard a guess that in some cases, yes, that happens. There are, after all, many reasons to support a cause.”
He drank his tea and decided to ask his own question. “So, should I be prepared for the worst possible scenario when the Gazette is published in two days? I would prevail upon our acquaintance for some warning of what to expect.”
“Have you spoken to Nathaniel?” she asked. At his response, she continued, “He has the last look and makes any last-minute changes before it goes to press.”
“So, you have not seen Goodfellow’s essay?”
“No, Mr. Archer, I have not.”
“Will you? Before it is published?”
He would wager his yearly income that she would, but would she admit to it? She lifted her cup and drank down the contents before answering.
“Yes, Mr. Archer, I will.”
Now it was time to gamble whatever this was between them. “Could I ask the same courtesy of seeing it before its general release that I afforded Nate?”
“So you can send it by messenger to your employer?” she asked, her voice devoid of warmth now. Had he pushed too far too fast?
“Candidly, yes. It is something I promised to do.” She did not know that he was thinking of his father and the arrangements with him for the prompt delivery of the new issue.
“Since it will change nothing, I will ask Nathaniel if he will allow it. It is, after all, his decision.”
“What is my decision?” Nate asked as he approached them. David stood and faced him.
“I asked Miss Fairchild if I might receive a copy of the Gazette before it is distributed. Call it an advanced warning.”
Lady MacLerie interrupted them and called everyone back to the entertainment. “All this talk of Lord Treybourne has brought the feel of doom and gloom to our gathering of family and friends. I forbid the mention of his name for the rest of the evening.”
She raised her own glass of wine and encouraged the rest to follow her example. Apparently hunting season was over.
“Here, here!” called out Mr. Campbell and Mr. Robertson.
“Yes! More dancing!” exclaimed the other single woman there, Miss Campbell.
“Very well,” Nathaniel said. David knew it was the answer to his request and not that of his sister.
Standing now, he held out his hand to Anna, who did not hesitate to join him. The rest of the evening passed quickly, too quickly if he had his choice, and at times, he felt very much like the condemned man having his last meal.
The new issue would increase the pressure on him from his father, for he did not doubt that Goodfellow would rise to the bait. Moreover, each faction would press for their own position and the result would be more division, not less. David knew that neither party would move from their stated platforms and that left only those few important moderates or undeclared members in Commons or Lords to be swayed by these arguments.
But, for the rest of the night, he would push all of that—all the matters that weighed heavily on his conscience, all the questions of his path and his decisions—aside and concentrate on the lovely young woman who graced his arm now. If there were any doubt he could do so, all he had to do was look at her and remember the kiss.
Then, early by London standards, but late for Edinburgh, the clock struck one in the morning and the gathering drew to a close. Although he would like nothing more than to escort Anna home, he could not and he watched as the Robertsons promised her safe conveyance. His coach was announced from the doorway downstairs and he took leave of the group. To his delight, Anna suggested that she see him to the door. He walked ahead of her down the stairs and waited for his hat. Once delivered, the footman stood discreetly aside.
“Other than the inquisition you suffered, I hope you found some pleasure in the evening, Mr. Archer.”
“Other than the inquisition, I can assure you that I found much enjoyment in the evening and, most especially—” he paused and lifted her hand to his mouth, touching it in the polite fashion “—in seeing you again, Miss Fairchild.”
He did not let go and she did not remove her hand from his. So many questions and considerations raced through his mind all at once, and no satisfying resolution was present. Damn tomorrow to hell, he thought as he turned her hand over and kissed the inside of her wrist.
David could feel her pulse just beneath her skin there, and smell the scent of roses. Her indrawn breath spoke of her reaction to his intimate kiss and he repeated it just to hear her gasp. This time though, he stared into her eyes as he did it. And he spoke the only words he could at that moment.
“I wish…I wish…” he whispered with each touch of his lips to her skin. He knew though that to voice the wishes now swelling in his heart would create more problems, insurmountable ones, than they currently faced. As a man of honor, despite the less than honorable desires flooding him at this moment, he could offer her nothing.
Only his heart, and that would accomplish nothing for her or the life she led. Certainly nothing for the life he must lead as well.
Her gaze moved to a spot just over his head and David knew they were being observed. The urge to pull her close and kiss her as he needed to almost overwhelmed him, but he did not know who stood above them. He had his suspicions, though. David released her hand and bowed. “Please convey my thanks once more to Lady MacLerie for including me in this evening’s plans, Miss Fairchild.”
“I will, sir.”
The quiver in her voice and the trembling of her hand as he released it demonstrated the extent of how affected she’d been by his touch, something that made him inordinately happy.
“Clarinda is waiting for you, Anna.”
Just as he thought. Lord MacLerie stood on the landing above them. Now he began walking down the steps and Anna went up. The moment when they met and the glances exchanged spoke of caring and concern. Anna did that to men—brought out any protective elements in them. He felt it, he knew that Nate did as well and apparently others did, too. She met his gaze for a scant second before proceeding down the corridor to the drawing room.
The irony was that she was the most self-sufficient woman he’d ever met or known and the one least in need of a man’s protection. And yet, she drew them to her and something about her nature provoked that response. In Nate’s case, and he was coming to recognize it in his case, there were other, stronger feelings at work, but he could swear in Lord MacLerie’s situation it involved nothing like it.
“Might I have a word with you, Mr. Archer?” Lord MacLerie reached the bottom and walked to the door, waving off the footman. “A breath of fresh air perhaps?”
MacLerie knew.
They walked outside and down the steps. Standing on the sidewalk, MacLerie led him to a spot where they could not be overheard before speaking.
“I do not know what your game is, Treybourne, but do not think to include Anna in your sordid charade.”
“How long have you known?” he asked.
“Just after the first dinner here. We met some years ago in London on one of my
infrequent trips there.” David shrugged, not remembering the meeting. “It was something you said that made the connection for me.”
“Does Lady MacLerie know?” He wanted to know how far the news had spread.
“No. I would spare her any worry over her dearest friend. I went to Nathaniel, who assured me that you two had an agreement about your presence here.”
“We do,” he replied, not certain he wanted to share more than that. Both men protecting the women they loved. Irony raised its ugly head again in his life.
“I wanted you to know that despite her lack of family, Anna is not without friends. Friends who would do what must be done to protect her. Keep your focus on your opponent, Treybourne, and leave her out of your sights.”
“I came here only to discover the identity of my adversary and to gain a truce of sorts in the attacks, MacLerie. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“And what have you learned?”
The Scottish lord crossed his arms over his chest, looking very much like a Highland warrior of old, missing only a kilt and a broadsword to complete the image. Miss Julia would have noticed the resemblance immediately and that thought made him smile. Coming back to the topic under discussion, he watched the man’s expression as he voiced his suspicion.
“Tonight, I began to suspect that you might be the man I am searching for.” There. The accusation was out now.
A robust laughter escaped from MacLerie. “Do you now? Well, I will neither deny nor confirm such speculation.”
David shook his head. What a waste of time that had been. Had he really expected the man to confess to him?
“Goodfellow aside, I want you to know that Miss Fairchild is not to be part of whatever you are doing. The lass is a woman of honor and does not deserve to be played in your game.”
Before he could assure Anna’s friend that whatever he felt for her was honest emotions, MacLerie leaned in closer. “Our estates and wealth are about equal by my estimates. Although your father chooses to exercise his power through politics, mine does so in commerce and shipping. As enemies we could each inflict considerable damage to the other. I would prefer you as a friend.”
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