Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval (22 page)

Crista smiled. “Possibly.”

Anna felt guilty. Until she married Amos, Crista had had plenty to do with her time, working all the hours God sent, to stave off the enemies her father had made through foolish decisions. “Thank you. I fully intend to follow your advice. Clarence is definitely worth fighting for.” Anna perched carefully on the edge of a settee. “But enough about me. Why are you not dressed for the ball?”

“Oh, Amos and I shall not go. We were up at the crack of dawn in order to get here with those papers, and we are exhausted.”

“Of course you must be. How thoughtless of me not to have realised it.” Anna canted her head and examined Crista more closely. “There is something different about you. Something about your eyes, your complexion. Your skin positively glows. Are you quite well?”

“Never more so.”

When Crista’s face broke out into a beatific smile, Anna gasped. “You and Amos are going to make me an aunt?”

Crista nodded. “Yes. We have only just found out and haven’t told anyone yet. We planned to do so at dinner this evening.”

“I am so delighted!” Anna hugged Crista, this time not caring about the welfare of her gown. “Mama will be beside herself with joy. So will Zach. It will take the pressure off of him to marry, or so he will think.”

Crista laughed. “I doubt your Mama will see things that way.”

“No, I am sure she will not.” Anna sighed. “You should not have come tearing up to town. Not in your condition.”

“Oh, Anna, don’t fuss so. You are worse than Amos. I wanted to come, insisted upon it because I wanted to be sure you were all right.”

Others joined them and their private discourse came to an end. Anna gave Amos a huge hug when he entered the room, making it clear without words she knew his secret. He squeezed her waist, put her aside, and went to stand behind Crista. Without preamble, he then told them all their news. Everyone was excited by it. The duchess actually cried.

“I am to be a grandmamma at last,” she said, hugging Crista and simultaneously wiping her eyes.

Amos received hearty backslaps from his brothers. Crista was kissed and fussed over by everyone. Champagne was served and the hubbub had only just died down when Clarence was announced. Anna inhaled sharply when she looked up and their gazes locked. She was conscious of colour flooding her face as a fine tremor of expectation lanced through her, causing her to wonder briefly how she could possibly expect such an intelligent sophisticate to take an interest in a dunce like her. What would they find to talk about that wouldn’t bore him rigid? It occurred to her suddenly, his fierce intellect was one of the things that had attracted her to him. They were polar opposites, and she was drawn to him in spite of their differences. He was so debonair in his evening clothes, and his thick hair falling over his brow—every movement and gesture poised and elegant—just looking at him robbed her of the ability to think straight. She wanted to run to him, throw herself spontaneously into his arms, much as she tended to do with her brothers, and never let go. Instead, she forced herself to incline her head, somewhat coolly, and turned back to her conversation with Frankie. He might be clever, but she had her feminine wiles with which to ensnare him, and that evened things up just a little.

“What game are you playing?” Frankie asked in an undertone.

“I will tell you later.”

“Well, whatever it is, you have totally confused Clarence.”

Anna flashed a smug smile. “That is my intention.”

Frankie laughed. “Then the next few weeks ought to be entertaining. Confusion is not a situation Clarence is familiar with. His existence revolves around orderly control and intellectual reasoning.”

“Whereas mine is entirely spontaneous.” She grinned at Frankie. “One of us will have to make concessions.”

A large hand came to rest on her waist. She felt the heat searing through the silk of her gown, heating her blood.

“Good evening, Clarence,” she said, not needing to turn to know who owned that hand.

“You look adorable,” he whispered in her ear. “Good evening, Frankie,” he said in a more normal voice. “Will you please excuse us for a moment? There is something I must say in private to Annalise.”

“By all means,” Frankie replied, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

With his hand still on her waist, Clarence steered Anna into the small salon adjoining the drawing room.

“Whatever do you wish to say to me that cannot be said in front of my family?” she asked, rather breathlessly as a result of the continued contact with Clarence’s hand.

“It is more a case of what I have to give you.”

Before she could ask what he meant, he produced a box from his pocket. Obviously a ring box. She had not thought of that, hadn’t expected a token to seal their supposed engagement. He opened it and she gasped loud enough to draw attention from the adjoining room. A superb, very large sapphire circled by exquisite diamonds sparkled against the black velvet lining of the box.

“It is beautiful!” Anna said, awestruck.

“It reminded me of the colour of your eyes.”

“Clarence, that was a very romantic thing to say.”

“You see, I am learning. I think you will find me a very responsive pupil.”

He extracted the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. She wasn’t surprised to discover it was a perfect fit. She waggled her finger about, admiring the light refracted by the stones from all angles.

“It is a Ceylon sapphire,” Clarence said. “The very best they had.”

“Was it your mother’s?”

Anna regretted the question when a cloud darkened his expression. Up until that point, he had been like a little boy, rare excitement cutting through his suave exterior in his anxiety for her approval.

“No,” he said curtly, his eyes flat and hard. “I would not have you wear anything of hers. All the jewellery I give to my wife will be selected to suit her personality.”

“Then she will be very fortunate. And you may rest assured I will take very good care of this ring and return it to you when the time comes.”

Anna smiled up at Clarence, expecting him to finally ask what she meant by that comment. He did not. Instead, he lowered his head and their lips collided, briefly. Far too briefly for Anna’s likes, but the contact was still sufficient to send soaring excitement spiralling through her veins, heightening her perceptions, and making her long for a mysterious something that was lacking in her life. An omission she was absolutely sure Clarence would be able to rectify,
if
she went through with the marriage.

“I have wanted to do that since first setting eyes on you,” he said softly “And, just so you are aware, I intend to do a more thorough job of it the next time we are alone.”

Anna gulped, too overcome by surprise at the raw intensity evidenced in his expression to point out this was his second romantic comment in as many minutes. She bit her lower lip, which still tingled from the brief contact with his, and remained silent.

“Come,” he said briskly, once more placing a hand on her waist. “We ought to re-join the others so you can show them your ring.”

***

Clarence escorted Annalise into the crowded ballroom, conscious of a marked degree of attention being focused upon them. Many pairs of eyes followed their progress with varying degrees of interest. He was perfectly sure many of the gentlemen would be disappointed. He knew a large number of them had fixed their interest on Annalise, and not only because she possessed such a large dowry. Clarence had no need of her money, but an alternative use for it was already forming in his brain.

Their hostess was positively bursting with joy because Annalise appeared at her ball on Clarence’s arm, confirming the rumours that had been circulating. Clarence’s training saw him through the interlude with a gushing Lady Ancel. He did not have to think about how he responded to her, but said and did all the right things with charm and grace, all the while focusing his attention upon the lady at his side.

Annalise had never looked more beautiful, mere serene, more composed. She played her part superbly, looking ecstatic, sending him frequent adoring glances that had been conspicuous by their absence at Sheridan House. But beneath her polished exterior, he could sense she was a tangle of uncertainty and nervousness. Nervous with him, of facing von Hessel, or disappointing her myriad admirers? Clarence wished he knew.

“You look radiant,” he said, tightening the muscles in his forearm upon which her hand rested, his ring glistening on the outside of her glove. “Half the men in this room want to detach my head from my body at this precise moment, for which I can scarce blame them.”

“You are getting very good at paying me compliments, Clarence. Be careful. I might grow to expect it.”

“I shall do my humble best not to disappoint.”

“Harrumph, there is absolutely nothing humble about you.”

“Why, thank you.”

“That was not intended to be a compliment.”

“Nevertheless, I shall take it as such.” He chuckled at her affronted expression, but could tell she was still on edge. Hardly surprising. The last time she had set foot in a ballroom, she had been abducted from it. “Relax, sweetheart. This is your night to shine. Forget about everything else and enjoy yourself.”

“Is that not what I should be saying to you?” She flashed him an adorably wicked smile. “After all, I
know
how to relax. You do not.”

“Then I shall rely upon you to teach me.”

The crowd swirled around them as they made slow progress across the room. Many congratulations were sent their way, some people even applauded. Twice he was briefly accosted by politicians keen for a private word. He frowned, making it clear this was neither the time nor the place. He could see Annalise did not appreciate the interruptions, but she made no comment about them. It occurred to Clarence he could hardly blame the men since he had made a habit in the past of entering society specifically for the purpose of talking to such people away from the hotbed of gossip at Whitehall.

“There is von Hessel,” Annalise said, tensing again.

“Ignore him, smile, and let him wonder,” Clarence replied, tapping the hand still resting on his arm.

“Oh no. Lord Roker is heading in our direction. I’m not sure I can face him at this moment.”

“Then you shall not.”

Clarence effortlessly steered her in another direction. The crowd swallowed them up, and Lord Roker disappeared from view.

“Thank you,” she said.

“My pleasure.” They continued to stroll and Clarence sensed her relax her rigid pose, just fractionally. “Are you familiar with the layout of this house?”

“No, I have never set foot in it before. Why do you ask?”

“I ask because you look far too anxious. I am told I have many skills, but relieving young ladies of needless anxiety is not one I recall being called upon to employ.” He smiled at her. “Frankly, I don’t have the first notion how to go about it.”

Her eyes widened and she sent him a teasing smile. “I have discovered something you do not excel at?”

“Ah, that we have yet to establish. Just because I have never had to do it before, it does not follow I am inept.”

She rolled her eyes. “I am sure you are not.”

“Even so, the only way I can think of to remove the haunted look from your lovely eyes is to take you somewhere private and kiss you witless.”

“Lord Romsey!”

“I did warn you I’m a novice at this, but admit it, sweetheart,” he said, offering her a wicked smile, “you are intrigued.”

“I am not sure how to answer such an arrogant assumption without insulting you.”

“Ah, but you are now so cross with me you have forgotten to be anxious.” This time his smile was imbued with smug satisfaction. “I rest my case,
and
I reserve the right to claim my kiss. We are, after all, engaged to be married.”

“We are engaged, nothing more.”

“Even so, that makes a kiss permissible. We must do everything we can to maintain appearances.”

“If you say so.”

“Oh, I do.” A rich chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I most assuredly do.”

Lord Jenkins appeared before them and bowed. “I understand I am to congratulate you both,” he said stiffly.

“Thank you, Lord Jenkins,” Annalise replied with the sweetest of smiles.

“You are a lucky man, Romsey.”

“I am well aware of that.”

“With your permission, Romsey, may I have the pleasure of this dance, Lady Annalise?”

Clarence was most reluctant to let her go, but knew he had no choice. He surrendered her to Jenkins’ care and stood at the side of the room, watching them without appearing to do so. Amelia Hardgraves appeared at his elbow without his noticing her approach, so intent had he been upon watching Annalise.

“So, Clarence, you have fallen prey to the parson’s mousetrap. She is an enticing package, but still, I must confess to being surprised.”

“Thank you for your congratulations, Amelia.”

Amelia chuckled. “I was unaware your tastes ran to virginal heiresses.”

Clarence was sorely tempted to point out that was because it had been so long since she had been one herself. Naturally, he did not give voice to such a vulgar thought. He and Amelia had enjoyed a casual affair some months previously. Clarence had ended it. Amelia had wanted it to continue and had been a thorn in his side ever since.

“You know where to find me when the bloom fades from the rose,” she said, sounding a little desperate. “Shall we join the dance?”

“Thank you, but the sets are already complete.”

“I shall not take offence.” Amelia deployed her fan somewhat aggressively, possessive jealousy imbued in the gesture. “I can understand why you do not wish your name to be associated with mine at this precise time. I also know marriage will not suit you. You are not cut out for it, which is why you and I rubbed along together so well.”

“We had an enjoyable time, Amelia, but we both understood there was nothing permanent about it.”

“Precisely my point. Neither permanency nor monogamy form part of your character.”

“Perhaps you do not know me as well as you imagine,” Clarence replied, bringing all his diplomatic skills to the fore to prevent himself from giving Amelia the replied she so richly deserved.