An Invitation to Sin (9 page)

She spent entirely too much time sitting by windows hoping to catch a glimpse of him entering or leaving his house. Once or twice he looked thoughtfully at number 9, but she wasn’t sure she could read anything significant into that.

To try to bring some order to her mind, she began again to consider the mystery of Lady Delabury’s death. After all, if Carne was to be believed, the lady’s husband could already be in town looking for an excuse to call the earl out, or perhaps planning to kill him in cold blood!

She was sitting in the drawing room one day scribbling random thoughts on a piece of paper when Maria came in, untying the ribbons of a very fetching blue silk bonnet.

“I confess I am beginning to weary of this constant social round,” she said, with feeling. “We meet the same people everywhere, and everyone talks of the same things.”

“It must grow tiring,” Anna commiserated. “But it will be worth it if you find the ideal husband.”

Maria sighed. “What is an ideal husband? This one is handsome, that one is rich, another is clever, another has exquisite taste …”

“Have you not found anyone to love?” Anna asked. It seemed to her that falling in love was alarmingly easy.

“Oh,
love.
You are such a romantic, Anna! If you talk of that sort of foolishness, I perhaps favor Mr. Liddell, but he is impossible now his cousin is home, hale and hearty.” She drifted over. “What are you writing?”

Anna said the first thing that came to mind. “A … novel.”

When Maria picked up the piece of paper, Anna almost snatched it back, but she realized in time that to do so would alert her sister to a mystery. She hoped the scattered words would be meaningless. She hadn’t used “Carne” or “De-labury.” In fact, the names she had used had been mainly from
Forbidden Affections.

“I’m trying to come up with the plot for one,” she said. Maria did not read novels. She hardly read anything. Surely she wouldn’t recognize the names.

Maria scanned the sheet and suddenly frowned. “It’s not a
roman à clef,
is it, Anna?”

“No. Why would you think that?”

Maria lost interest and returned the sheet of paper. “Just the name of your hero. Count Nacre. It’s an anagram of Carne. Count Nacre—the Earl of Carne. Since you seemed to take the man in aversion, I thought you might be planning a novel in which he came to a dreadful end. Mother would have the vapors.” With that, she wandered away leaving Anna stunned.

Her brain must have been muddled for weeks not to see that the villain of
Forbidden Affections
had been the Earl of Carne, the present earl’s father. She wondered if they looked the same, for that would clinch it.

She hurried down to visit the cook, and though it took time to turn the conversation to the old earl, she eventually confirmed her suspicions. The Wicked Earl’s father had been a tall, barrel-chested, dark-visaged man who up to the time of his death had enjoyed hard riding and pugilism. He had been Count Nacre.

She retreated to her room to ponder the implications. Had Lady Delabury been in love with Lord Carne’s son, Roland, and thwarted by the father? Had
Forbidden Affections
been a novel of revenge?

Or had the lady been trying to reveal to the world that the earl was creeping into her horrid chamber to terrorize her?

But that was nonsense! Lady Delabury herself had ordered the chamber made, and if the earl had come through the secret door—that peculiar secret door—she could easily have complained or nailed it shut.

So what if …

Anna’s mind began to wander strange paths which seemed unlikely but were the only ones to fit the facts.

One thing was clear. She had to discuss this with the earl.

Anna could not be sure of the earl being in his house at any particular hour. She could only plan to take up vigil once her family left for the evening, hoping to see Lord Carne come home before she fell asleep.

A snarl in this plan developed during the afternoon as her family sat together in the drawing room.

Her father addressed Maria. “We are well into June, my dear; and must soon be returning home. Is it not about time I started to encourage one of your eager suitors?”

Maria blushed. “I am undecided, Papa.”

“I can quite see that you’re spoiled for choice,” he teased. “But the old saying is ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’ If we return home with you unspoken-for, they might turn their eyes elsewhere.”

“If I am so easily forgotten, perhaps I should be.”

Anna so heartily agreed with that sentiment that it took her a moment to realize how strangely it sat on Maria’s lips, who thought no one should ever forget her. She looked up from her book and realized that Maria was quite agitated.

“Now, now, my love,” said Lady Featherstone. “We do not intend to pressure you. But you must have some notion of where your favor lies.”

Maria looked down and said nothing so that an awkward silence developed.

It was as much to break that silence as to tease that Anna said, “It seems to me that Maria favors Mr. Liddell if she favors anyone.”

Maria’s delicious color blossomed even as Lady Feath-erstone’s face became pinched. Sir Jeffrey merely looked thoughtful.

“Maria!” exclaimed Lady Featherstone. “You have an
earl
seeking your hand. Surely you cannot be so foolish …”

“Hush, my dear,” said Sir Jeffrey. “We do not look only at rank, surely. Maria, do you favor Mr. Liddell?”

Maria’s fingers were knotted in the trim of her embroidered tunic. “I truly don’t know, Papa. But … but I cannot seem to find interest in any of the other gentlemen, excellent though they are.”

“Well, really!” snapped Lady Featherstone. “I never thought you to be so … so ungoverned in your affections! I have told you over and over that a girl can fix her affections where she should if she but puts her mind to it. I forbid it! I forbid you to even speak to the man again.”

Maria leapt to her feet. “How can you be so cruel! If his horrid cousin had been dead, you would have been delighted to see me wed to him. How is it different?”

“It is a title and eighty thousand a year different, my girl! Believe me, Maria, you are not cut out to live in a cottage doing your own laundry.”

“It would hardly come to that. David has nearly a thousand pounds a year.”

“David, is it?”

“Hush, my love,” said Sir Jeffrey. “Let us not wrangle over it. This requires thought and calm debate. Maria, I am saddened that you have tried to conceal the state of your feelings.”

Maria was weeping now, very prettily. “Oh, Papa, I have not been deceitful. Truly I haven’t. I thought I could grow fond of Lord Whelksham, or Lord Harlowe. It is only now in talking of it that I realize how I feel about David.”

Her father rose to hug her. “It is well that we know the truth. Now, I’m not saying I will consent, for like your mother I have qualms. But we will all think over it. I am sure it will be wise for us to make our apologies and stay home tonight, and perhaps you and Anna would be better for having a quiet meal in your rooms.”

Anna met her father’s eyes with a quizzical expression, and humor tugged at his lips before being controlled. She dutifully accompanied her sister upstairs.

Maria collapsed into a chair. “Oh, Anna, what will become of me?”

“I suspect you’ll end up married to Mr. Liddell if you truly want it.”

“Mama will oppose it with all her strength!” Maria declared, reminding Anna all too much of Dulcinea in despair.

“Mama will come to see reason once the first shock is past. But have you truly considered the practicalities?”

“I love him!”

Anna felt like Horatio facing overwhelming odds, but she set herself to trying to lead Maria into a logical consideration of her future. “You have always wanted a fine country estate, Maria.”

“I am sure David will have one in time.”

“How?”

Maria’s eyes shifted. “If his cousin should die …”

Anna’s heart tightened painfully. “Lord Carne seems very healthy.”

“Healthy men die. In duels, for example. I understand there may be a duel.”

Anna moved slightly backward. “Maria, you
can’t
wish for someone’s death. That is wicked!”

Her sister’s lips tightened. “He was supposed to be dead. And he is a murderer.”

“Oh, nonsense.”

“You can’t know that. Why are you so hot in his defense?”

Anna controlled herself. “I feel sure that old story is mostly rumor and exaggeration. Maria, if you marry Mr. Liddell you must accept that you will be marrying him as he is, and as he can be. He seems personable and intelligent. I’m sure he can work his way up to a comfortable situation, perhaps even into being awarded a title one day.”

Anna had not actually intended this to be a daunting speech—it wouldn’t have daunted her—but Maria paled. “That could take years!”

“Yes.”

“Oh, go away! I don’t see that you have any right to lecture me so. You think you are so clever but you know nothing about the way the world works. Nothing!”

Anna saw that her attempts to help could drive Maria into the vapors, so she left and took up her post by her window watching number 10. More than ever she wanted a word with the earl. It clearly was important to try to solve the death of Lady Delabury, but she also wasn’t sure it was beyond Mr. Liddell to plot his cousin’s murder.

Lord Carne must be warned.

Unfortunately, what she saw was the earl leaving his house with a friend, dressed for the evening.

The two men waited at the curb, presumably for his carriage, for the earl wore only light shoes. He must be going to a ball later, perhaps after the theater.

Anna sighed, wishing she were going with him, trying to imagine what it would be like to dance with him. He was very agile and graceful, so he must be a good dancer. She imagined spinning in a waltz with him and then, at the end, being wickedly pulled into his arms and kissed. She was sure he was bold enough to defy convention in that way …

She sank her head in her hands, alarmed at the physical response she felt at the mere thought.

When she looked up, he was gone.

Doubtless he’d be out until the early hours. Anna took her dinner by the window; then when she was ready for bed she sat there to read a book, just on the chance that he would come home.

When he did, she almost missed him. He didn’t return in the carriage, and she was absorbed by
Mr. Arnold’s Travels in North Africa.
Some sixth sense, perhaps, made her look up just in time to see Lord Carne turn toward his house and go in.

Anna’s heart immediately started to pound and her hands went clammy. There was nothing she wanted more than to be with the earl again, but she feared he wouldn’t be best pleased to see her, and wouldn’t like the subject she wanted to discuss.

She must be resolute, though. She slipped into her gown and spencer, not forgetting the armor of stockings and shoes, and went to open the secret door.

The door did not move.

The other side was blocked!

She pushed harder and the door gave a little but was reinforced by an obstacle. The earl had done as she had once, and placed something against it. What, though? If it was an armoire, she would never get through.

She had blocked her door in fear of her virtue. She stifled a giggle at the thought of the earl barricading the door for the same reason. Then she decided it wasn’t funny. He’d doubtless blocked the door because he did not want her to use it. He would not be pleased to see her.

Anna pushed again, increasing the pressure until the obstacle moved. Ah, not too substantial an object. Probably a very solid chair. As with her bench, its main deterrence would be noise, but unless the earl had moved into this room there was a chance that no one would hear it.

She pushed as hard as she could, and with a trundling noise the chair moved enough to let her through.

“Hah!” she said, and triumphantly moved the chair to another spot farther down the wall. Then, breathing heavily from her exertions, she stopped to listen. She didn’t think that noise would have alerted anyone, and in a moment, peace told her it had not.

Now her only problem was to decide how to find the earl in a house still awake and equipped with servants. She thought of returning to her room to wait for later, but she was afraid that Lord Carne might have only returned home for a short while.

So, she would have to be brave and venturesome.

Anna opened the bedroom door a tiny chink, feeling very different from that first time when it had all seemed like a wonderful game. The dangers were greater now, and she also knew this wasn’t a game. She very much feared she had passed over into a new world, an adult world, where what one did could have grave consequences. With a sigh, she looked out into the corridor.

The landing around the central stairs was completely deserted, but the feel of the house was different. It was inhabited now. She heard the ticking of clocks and, faint in the distance, noise of the servants in the basement. On the end posts of the staircase, oil lamps flickered against the time when the setting sun brought gloom.

This part of the house seemed safe, but the earl was probably in his library, which meant she must go down to the lower floor. Anna crept along the carpet runner, praying that no board creaked. As she passed one door a noise froze her in midstep. Faint, slight, unidentifiable, it told her someone was there.

She let out the breath she had been holding. From her previous exploration she knew this was one of the major bedrooms, and likely to be used by Lord Carne. If someone was in it, it was either the earl or a servant. The chances were that it was the earl, though it easily could be both …

She contemplated the mahogany panels and decided that she must either open this door or return to her own room. No other choice was logical.

She turned the knob and walked in.

“What is it?” asked Lord Carne sharply, and turned.

They stood frozen for a second, he by her unexpected appearance, she by the fact that he was only wearing his tight dark pantaloons.

Then he moved swiftly past her to shut the door. “What the devil are you doing here?”