Authors: Something Like a Lady
Kay Springsteen (25 page)
“
You horrid, wretched, vile—
”
She rolled her hands into fists. If she could get just one good strike in before he reacted, it would be worth whatever he might do to her.
“
I
’
m
not
some pathe
tic child to be toyed with like — like—
”
She broke off with a gasp.
A message to Markwythe! Juliet!
Seabrook made an impatient slicing gesture in the air. His dark eyes
hardened into
black onyx.
“
I never considered you someone to be trifled with. I wasn
’
t certain who you were. And I didn
’
t know for certain who was calling herself Annabella in London. I suspected, but I didn
’
t know at the start.
”
He took a step forward, crowding her against the window. The air between them became charged.
“
Why did you say nothing?
”
“
I—
”
He pulled a hand down his face, drew in a deep breath, and shook his head.
“
I can
’
t answer that. I… don
’
t know.
”
Annabella willed her heart to slow its incessant charge against her chest. He didn
’
t know? What manner of answer…? She stole a closer look. She must have gone mad, for he looked almost… vulnerable.
“
What reason do you have for asking me to refrain from contacting Juliet?
”
“
Your broth—
”
He sighed.
“
I merely confirmed to his grace that the lady in London is not you and that you are unharmed. He has no idea she is the daughter of a servant. When I left he was… tolerating her presence. I think she fascinates him, actually. And I do not believe the two of you intended… harm. If you send your missive…
”
Markwythe
will
know. Already does know.
A message would compound their deception and it might cause him to go harder on Juliet.
“
What am I to do? I cannot just leave her there,
”
snapped Annabella.
Seabrook
’
s expression softened.
“
On my honor, Grey will not harm your friend.
”
Desire to believe him rushed the words from her mouth.
“
How can you say that? How do you know?
”
“
Because I am closer to him than to my own brother.
”
Shaking his head, Jon spread his hands.
“
He
’
s intrigued by her… and he is aware she is not you. Had he in it to harm her, he
’
d have called her out.
”
Annabella pondered his words. Perhaps she might wait…
“
If it means so much to you, then—
”
The soft knock on the study door startled them both.
“
Come.
”
Seabrook stepped away from her and turned, carrying his electrifying intensity with him.
Samuel entered slowly, his spine straight, chin tucked.
“
Begging your pardon, my lord. Her grace requests your presence
at dinner along with your wife. The attire is to be formal
.
”
Seabrook might have cursed under his breath, though Annabella couldn
’
t be certain
,
and the butler showed no indication in his stoic features.
“
Thank you, Samuel. You may inform her grace that we shall be there.
”
“
Robert Carson has been assigned as your valet, my lord, and Marie Penny shall
take on the responsibilities of
Lady Seabrook
’
s maid.
”
With a quick nod, Samuel turned and walked from the room, closing the door with a soft click.
Seabrook turned and
held
Annabella in his
regard
.
“
I assume you brought something suitable.
”
She shuddered.
“
I shall not be — joining you for dinner. I
’
m…
”
What excuse could she use? Perhaps the one her mother had often used when she was avoiding callers.
“
I fear I
’
m far too exhausted from traveling to accept an invitation to dinner.
”
Seabrook
’
s grin returned.
“
You misunderstand, Lady Seabrook. My grandmother was not issuing an invitation. That, my darling wife, was a summons from the Dowager Duchess of Blackmoor.
”
Jon tugged at his cravat – he
’
d tied the blasted thing too tightly and already wanted only to remove it. Where was Annabella?
Did she not understand the importance of presenting in a timely fashion?
He
’
d no sooner thought her name when the door to the bedchamber opened and she
stepped through
,
stealing his
ability to breathe. Glorious curls adorned her head and framed her face like a golden crown. An arrangement of lace and pearls
clung to
the left side of her head. A few strands of hair had been allowed to fall along the back of her neck, and he longed to brush them aside and press kisses where her neck met her bare shoulders. Jon swallowed hard and forced his eyes to move on to the cream-colored puffed sleeves that held fast to her upper arms, the ivory silk gloves that slouched just below her elbow. The silk of her gown gathered about her womanly curves like a caress. Unbidden, his fingers
stirred
against his
thumbs
. A ribbon of rosebuds crafted from blush-colored silk circled her skirt about midway to the floor, and below that, three tiers of finely stitched lace overlapped one another, each darkening in hue. The lowest tier reminded him of the pink roses at the cottage. He shifted his eyes upward again. Their gazes
met
and the barest hint of a smile teased her lips as she performed a slow pirouette. Her gown flared outward,
skimming
the floor with her movement, revealing the tips of pale blue and silver slippers.
When she stopped, she spread open the blue fan clasped in her slender fingers and raised it so only her eyes showed. Tipping her head to the left, her green gaze regarded him over the top.
“
Do you find my attire suitable enough for her grace
’
s formal dinner, Lord Seabrook?
”
Words failed him as he just stood gaping at his bride. What secrets had she hidden behind those emerald eyes?
One sculpted tawny eyebrow raised.
“
It
’
s… quite appropriate,
”
he said softly, and held out his hand.
“
You
’
re lovely.
”
Annabella
laid her finger
s against his palm and he lightly grasped her hand. His heart leapt about in his chest like a deer crashing through a bramble patch.
“
Shall we go, then?
”
he asked, tucking her hand into
the crook of
his elbow.
With Annabella gliding gracefully at his side, Jon hardly felt the floor beneath his feet. Their steps matched perfectly as they descended the main staircase from the galley to the salon. Midway down, he paused, unaccountably overcome with emotion at the familiar tableau before him.
Annabella angled her head and smiled up at him.
“
I trust we won
’
t have to observe the evening
’
s festivities from the stairs.
”
Jon pulled in a deep breath and released it slowly. By evening
’
s end, she might well wish they
’
d remained on the grand staircase. He smiled, and they continued to the bottom.
The butler appeared at Jon
’
s elbow.
“
Good evening, Samuel,
”
greeted Jon with a smile.
“
I see her grace has not yet come down. How many for dinner this evening?
”
The butler
’
s face took on a pinched expression.
“
Other than yourselves and her grace, the number is five, my lord.
”
Jon nodded as a caustic sensation invaded his belly.
Five…
Annabella tittered behind her fan. So she could behave like an insipid young lady after all.
“
To look at your face, one would think you are about to head for the gallows instead of a dinner party. Do you not like your grandmother
’
s guests?
”
It wasn
’
t his like or dislike Jon was concerned over.
“
Annie, there
’
s something I should—
”
“
Gladys Cecily Siler Durham, the Dowager Duchess of Blackmoor,
”
announced Samuel from the bottom of the stairway.
Too late.
Her face devoid of expression, Gran held her head with regal grace. Dressed in rich crimson velvet edged in gold, with a gossamer veil
that cascaded
from a jeweled head ornament
and fell
over her right shoulder, she looked more like a queen than a dowager duchess, and the glide in her step belied her true age. She halted at the base of the steps and waited.
Jon
’
s breath backed up in his lungs. She hardly seemed to have aged in the time he
’
d been away. Her dark hair had been shot with streaks of gray for as long as he could recall. In contrast to Annabella
’
s elaborate style, Gran
’
s tresses were pulled into a chignon at the nape of her neck from which not a single strand dared escape. Her gaze touched on him briefly before moving on to An
nabella, and then to the butler, to whom she gave a barely perceptible nod.
Samuel
’
s voice rang across the salon.
“
Announcing Queen Dorothea.
”
Annabella turned her head toward the doorway then looked up at Jon, confusion pinching her forehead the tiniest bit.
Resigned, he inclined his head toward his grandmother. Though the dowager made no movement, her gown fluttered near her feet.
A
sleek gray-and-brown striped figure emerged from behind her, nose in the air. Her slanted green eyes seemed to survey the room as she struck a
n
aristocratic
pose and remained perfectly still except for the tip of her tail, which waved back and forth like a miniature flag.
Annabella tensed and curled her fingers, digging painfully into the tender part of Jon
’
s inner elbow.
“
That
’
s a cat!
”
she accused, her whisper sounding amazingly like a hissing feline.
“
Correction, Lady Seabrook.
”
Jon patted her hand with his until she loosened her g
rip.
“
That
… is my grandmother
’
s
favorite
cat. So smile and—
”
“
If you finish that statement with the word
‘
curtsey,
’
I shall kick you,
”
Annabella said through gritted teeth. She lifted her lips into a stiff, forced smile and added a little too sweetly.
“
My lord.
”
“
Lord Felix and Princess Tabitha,
”
intoned Samuel.
Two footmen appeared at the top of the staircase. Each cradled a fat black feline against his chest. The animals seemed content to be carried down the steps.
Annabella dug her fingers into his arm o
nce more, and Jon winced.
“
Those are
cats
,
”
she whispered again.
