An Invitation to Sin (5 page)

“And that frequently happens,” she had said. “Not many unfortunate girls
intend
their ruin. They are caught unawares and either forced, tricked, or seduced into depravity. And seduction means that they succumbed to pleasure. So be on your guard and avoid the very occasions of sin, girls. Prudent, well-behaved young ladies do not come to grief.”

Anna had never really believed that she could be forced, tricked, or seduced into ruin, but then she’d never anticipated anyone like the Earl of Carne. Cautiously, she allowed her memory to bring to mind the man she had met last night, trying to decide what made him so dangerous. Handsome, yes. But not in a smooth, gentle way. He was lean, hard, and had proved to be alarmingly strong.

Anna shuddered at the memory of being as helpless as a struggling toddler.

Perhaps, however, that very strength was part of the seductive appeal that lingered even now as a spicy sweetness beneath anxiety. Certainly something about him had speeded her pulse and weakened her knees in a way she had never experienced before, and it hadn’t entirely been fear.

Unless it was fear of the wantonness he had so easily summoned in her.

Yet another reason to avoid the earl. Anna was no fool.

Sometimes it was best not to put one’s willpower to the test.

She sat up straighter and turned her mind to assessing her situation and making plans.

With luck and caution, Anna decided, she might escape the consequences of her folly. She was not ruined, and it did not seem Lord Carne was seriously injured. He was doubtless puzzled as to the identity of Maggie, but if Anna stayed concealed for a day or two, all could be well. The earl would surely move on, either to travel again or to inspect his neglected estates.

Martha returned with a breakfast tray and Lady Feather-stone, who laid a cool hand on Anna’s brow. “You do not seem fevered, my dear. Are you in pain?”

“Just the headache, Mama.”

Anna’s mother studied her with intent concern and Anna felt sure she would read every secret. But eventually Lady Featherstone said, “I don’t think there is anything much amiss. Perhaps it is just the excitement of the city. Or this horrid room. Do you want to share Maria’s room?”

“No, Mama!”

With a shake of her head, Lady Featherstone dropped the subject. “Rest today, then, and I am sure you will soon be more the thing. But if you feel the need we will send for the doctor.”

When her mother had left, Anna settled to her breakfast, then asked Martha to help her dress, saying she would sit quietly on a chaise by the window. It was true that she had no desire to spend the day in bed, but she had other reasons. Her room looked out onto the street, and she wanted to be able to observe the comings and goings at number 10.

Preferably the goings.

What she hoped to see was the Earl of Carne entering a well-piled coach, clearly headed for foreign lands, or at least for the provinces. What she actually saw were two fashionable gentlemen stroll up and be admitted. Since they stayed about an hour, and neither looked like a doctor, Anna felt able to assume that the earl was not on his deathbed.

When two coaches arrived, Anna experienced a moment of hope, but then the chests and boxes were taken
into
the house. “Oh, no,” she muttered. “The wretch is taking up residence!”

Anna looked at the fireplace in alarm, then hurried over to push a solid bench in front of the secret door. It might not prevent a forcible entry, but it would prevent a silent one.

But how was she to avoid a meeting if the earl was to stay next door?

When Martha came to offer her lunch, Anna said, “There seems to be some activity at number 10. Has the earl leased the house after all?”

Martha put her tray on the table and started to lay out the meal. “Nay, miss. Believe it or not, his lordship’s come back. Arrived in the night without warning! And,” she added in a whisper, “it’s to be feared he’s mad.”

“Mad?” Dear heaven. Had her blow deprived him of his wits?

Martha looked around as if expecting an angel to come and silence her, then leaned closer. “He came knocking at the kitchen door this morning, miss.”

“The earl?” Anna’s heart started to flutter with panic. He knew! How did he know?

Martha leaned even closer. “The wicked earl himself! And the Lord knows what wickedness he’d been up to, Miss Anna, for he’d a mighty wound on his temple, all swollen and bruised-like. I tell you true, miss, none of us thought we were safe!”

“Whatever did he want?” Anna whispered back, wondering why the heavens had not already fallen on her.

“You’ll never believe it …”

“What?”

“He wanted Maggie! Poor little Maggie, who might be a bit slow, but hasn’t a scrap of bad in her!”

Anna didn’t know what to say.

“Mind you,” said Martha, straightening to rearrange a mustard pot on the small table, “the earl did come to his senses after a fashion. As soon as he clapped eyes on her he looked right bewildered. Apologized for disturbing us and took himself off.

“Sad, really,” she said with a shake of her head. “Mrs. Postle says he was a right promising young man once, before … well, before. Certain it is though, Miss Anna, that you must keep out of that man’s way. I’m sure your parents are going to be very concerned to know that he’s settling in next door.”

Lord and Lady Featherstone certainly were concerned, the lady rather more than the lord. Over dinner that evening she said, “You must be very careful, girls. Very careful. He has already shown his true flags.”

Lady Featherstone left it there, so Anna decided to stimulate discussion. “You mean him crashing into the kitchen covered with blood demanding Maggie?”

Unfortunately, Maria had not heard the story. She shrieked and assumed her ready-to-faint posture, hand to heart.

Anna’s father frowned. “Don’t exaggerate, Pippin. And Maria, don’t get into a taking. I am assured he knocked at the door and inquired after her in a fairly normal manner.”

“Normal?”
demanded Maria. “Papa, how can it be
normal
for an earl to turn up at the kitchen door asking after the scullery maid? He must be mad. We’ll be murdered in our beds like that other woman!”

“Nonsense,” said Sir Jeffrey. “I will not have such exaggerations, girls. Lady Delabury took too much laudanum and it was years ago. As for Maggie, though I did not like to do it, I called on the earl and asked an explanation. It appears he surprised an intruder in his house last night, a young woman who called herself Maggie. When he attempted to apprehend her, she hit him on the head, which accounts for his wound. When his servants told him a maid called Maggie served next door, he naturally assumed she would be the same.”

“Then an honest man,” said Lady Featherstone, “would have sent for a Runner!”

“A charitable man might not, my dear. I did not expect it, but I gained the impression that the earl was motivated by compassion. He admitted that he had frightened the girl into attacking him, and he thought she might have been lacking her wits …”

Anna almost choked on a piece of chicken. The wretch!

“So he decided to discover her,” her father continued, “and speak to her superiors on the matter. Of course, since our scullery maid turned out not to be his quarry, he is no further forward in solving the mystery. And he did apologize for any upset he might have caused.”

“So I should think!” Lady Featherstone declared.

“I must confess, my dear, that I was pleasantly surprised by the earl. He seems a man of sense. We know he indulged in some youthful follies, but time can heal. I gather he has spent his recent years in the Eastern Mediterranean and he speaks intelligently of matters there. I suspect he may have been engaged on the King’s business.”

Her father might be quite in charity with their neighbor; Anna was not. She did not believe for one moment that Lord Carne had been moved by compassion. He either wanted revenge, or wished to continue his wicked plan to set “Maggie” up as his mistress.

Perhaps both.

Perhaps he had been intending to blackmail the poor, powerless maid into surrendering to his vile lust.

“Is the earl to stay in London, Papa?” she asked.

“It would appear so, my dear. His cousin’s efforts to have him declared dead have obliged him to return and prove his existence. It seems that he intends to stay for some time.”

“I cannot like it,” said Lady Featherstone. “It will stir all those old stories, and since there is a connection to this house, it will cause the kind of attention I cannot like.”

Anna was hard put not to roll her eyes at the word “connection.” If her mother only knew!

“Nonsense, my love,” said Sir Jeffrey with a twinkling grin. “The earl’s presence and those old stories will assure you an excellent attendance at any entertainments you care to give.”

And so it proved. When Lady Featherstone held a small, informal musical evening a few days later, her rooms were grat-ifyingly full, and it was astonishing how often conversation turned to neighbors, past and present.

As it was an informal affair, Anna had been allowed to attend in her one good silk gown to listen to the music. She knew she was not to put herself forward in any way, and was quite content to sit quietly, watching people and keeping her ears pricked for any snippets of information about the wicked Earl of Carne.

Unfortunately, no one seemed to know more than she. In fact she could, if she wished, give them a clearer story than they had.

She heard one person murmur that he was crippled by debauchery, and another report that she had been reliably informed that he was hideously scarred.

It was clear, however, that the
ton
was fascinated, and Anna suspected that the supposed wickedness of his past would easily be whitewashed by curiosity about his present. Add to that his status as a wealthy, unmarried peer of the realm and she had the sinking feeling that the dreaded earl would soon be accepted everywhere.

That was the last thing Anna wanted. Sitting in her corner listening to Mozart, she seriously considered taking up her investigations again in order to prove that Lord Carne really had murdered his inconvenient mistress. It would serve the wretch right …

“Miss Anna Featherstone, I believe?”

Anna looked up to see a young man bowing before her. She glanced at her mother, unsure how to handle this, but Lady Featherstone was deep in conversation with another guest.

Anna took refuge in good manners, smiled, and admitted her identity.

The pleasant-looking, brown-haired young gentleman took a seat beside her. “I know I am being a little bold, Miss Anna. My name is Liddell, by the way, David Liddell, and I am completely respectable.”

Anna met his eyes. “You would be bound to say so, though, wouldn’t you, Mr. Liddell? However, since I cannot imagine being the victim of seizure and rapine in my mother’s drawing room, I will not have the vapors just yet.”

After a startled moment, he laughed. “What a shame you are not making your curtsy, too, Miss Anna. You would set London by the ears.”

Anna twinkled at him. “I think that is what my mother fears.”

She held her smile even as her amusement faded. Her mother was clearly wise, for Anna had almost created disaster already. Perhaps bandying words with Mr. Liddell was a mistake, too.

He patted her hand. “Don’t grow nervous with me. Truth to tell, I wish to speak to you about your sister.”

“Ah,” said Anna, relaxing. This was familiar ground. “Have you fallen in love with her so quickly?”

He blushed. “Hardly that. We have only met a few times. But I would like to know her better.”

“Then I suggest you speak to her, not me, Mr. Liddell.”

“But I am being cunning, Miss Anna. If you will tell me the subjects that most interest Miss Featherstone, then I will be able to use my precious time with her to greatest effect.”

Anna considered him approvingly. “Initiative should certainly be rewarded, sir. Maria is interested in fashion, Keats’ poetry, and, on a more serious note, slavery. She is, of course, opposed to it. But I must warn you that we Featherstones are distressingly practical. Maria will not marry solely for money and title, but she is very unlikely to marry for love in a cottage. I do hope you have a comfortable situation.”

His face rippled under a revealing flash of pique before he controlled it. “I have expectations,” he said vaguely as he rose. “I must thank you, Miss Anna, and hope that perhaps one day we may be closer.”

Anna watched him cross to where Maria held court, feeling mildly sorry for him. He seemed pleasant and intelligent, but she feared his expectations were not equal to the occasion.

Then Lady Featherstone swished to Anna’s side. “And what, pray, were you doing conversing with a gentleman?”

“I could not avoid it, Mama. He introduced himself.”

“Gentlemen do not introduce themselves!”

Anna grinned. “They do when they want to know the way to Maria’s heart.”

“Ah.” Lady Featherstone frowned, but not at Anna. “It is unlikely to do, for all Maria seems to look kindly upon him.”

“Why? What is wrong with him?”

“He’s a Liddell. Which means he’s related to the Earl of Carne. That cannot be to his favor.”

Anna stared at Mr. Liddell with new interest. In her examination of Burke’s, she had scarcely noted the earl’s family name. “Is he the cousin, then?” she asked. “The heir?”

“Yes. Which now means he is a gentleman of limited means. ’Tis a shame, perhaps, that Lord Carne resurfaced, for as an earl Mr. Liddell would make an eligible
parti.
Without the title he is too small a fish.”

“But if Maria favors him, Mama?”

Lady Featherstone patted Anna’s head. “I will not force either of you to marry against your inclinations, dear, but nor will I permit you to follow some romantic fancy into hardship. It will be easy enough for a girl as pretty as Maria to find a husband who is both congenial and comfortable. Off to bed with you now, Anna. And tomorrow you are to cease this moping about the house or I will assuredly send for the doctor.”

Anna considered David Liddell before she left. Any resemblance between him and the earl was very slight, though he was handsome enough in his own way. She was surprised by the fact that she had not the slightest wish for the earl to die so Mr. Liddell could be earl in his place.