Sally MacKenzie Bundle (240 page)

He bowed, grinning at her. “Thank you for including us at the last minute.”

“I am delighted to add your friends to our group.” She nodded to the man at her side. “May I introduce Lord Ramsey? Miss Strange, I believe you are already acquainted with the baron.”

“Yes, indeed,” Clorinda said. “Dickie and I have known—and argued with—each other for years.” She sniffed. “I would say we disagree on every ornithological issue.”

“Not every one, surely,” Lord Ramsey said.

Clorinda raised an eyebrow. “We cannot even agree on what we disagree about.”

Ramsey laughed. “Surely you can agree you’d rather discuss birds than the bird-brained goings on of the
ton
?”

“Well . . .” Clorinda was obviously struggling with her desire to disagree and her dedication to the truth. “Perhaps.”

“No doubt about it. Party’s an insufferable bore—if you’ll pardon my saying so, Lady Kenderly. I wouldn’t be here if the invitation were from anyone but your husband, the earl. If you’ll excuse me and Miss Strange?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t know that I agreed to go converse with you, Dickie. You’re being a bit highhanded—as usual.”

Lord Ramsey took Clorinda’s arm. “You always were one to bite off your nose to spite your face, Clorinda. Do put aside your fussing and let me tell you about my great tits. I have quite a flock of them on my property.”

“I don’t know why I should be interested in your tits,” Clorinda said, but she allowed herself to be led away to a quiet corner.

“It would be nice if those two made a match of it,” Jo said, watching them go.

“Do you think so?” Evie wrinkled her brow. “Wouldn’t they just fight all the time?”

“Ah, but sometimes the making up is worth it.” Jo glanced across the room at her husband.

“I wouldn’t think Cousin Clorinda would give any male without wings and feathers a second glance.”

“Anne!” Evie stared at her sister in surprise.

Anne flushed. “Oh, please excuse me. My wretched tongue. I should not have said that.”

“But it’s true.” Stephen laughed. “Or at least, I would have wagered on it until this moment.”

“No, I think you are right,” Jo said, shaking her head. “Lord Ramsey’s been a widower for three years now; if he’d had any interest in acquiring another wife, I imagine he would have already done so.” She shrugged slightly and smiled at them. “I just like to see people paired up, now that I’m happily wed. And speaking of that, how remiss of me.” She turned to Anne. “I should have wished you happy the moment we met.”

Anne looked like a startled deer. She glanced up at Stephen. Surely she wasn’t going to tell Jo they weren’t really betrothed?

“Oh, I know you haven’t announced it yet—Stephen told us when he asked us to include you tonight. I’ve already congratulated him.” Jo met his eyes. “I’d say he was quite taken with you.”

“And you’d be completely correct, Jo.”

Jo’s smile widened. “Splendid. I confess Damian and I had our concerns—only because it seemed so sudden and the particulars sounded a bit odd—but now I see everything is as it should be. Amazing how one can attain clarity of vision in what seems like only a moment, isn’t it, Stephen?”

“Indeed it is.” He smiled down at Anne. Now he only had to persuade his prickly beloved to see things his way.

Anne took a sip of wine and surveyed the dinner table. There were eighteen people gathered there—the Marquis of Knightsdale and his wife had been delayed— and all were good friends of the earl and his countess. Everyone was smiling and in animated conversation. Clorinda and Lord Ramsey sat together down the table, arguing about something avian no doubt, and Evie was chatting with a pleasant looking young man whose name Anne couldn’t for the life of her remember.

Sadly she couldn’t remember much of the pre-prandial conversation either. Oh, everyone had been very polite and no one had asked her about the rumored betrothal, but they must all have supposed it to be true since she was there. She should have felt at ease, but she hadn’t. She’d felt like an imposter.

She
was
an imposter—and if these people discovered her real secret, they would give her the cut direct. Unmarried women who’d misplaced their virginity were not good
ton
.

And if Stephen found out . . . She closed her eyes.

With Brentwood in London, the question wasn’t “if” but “when.”

The butler appeared at the dining room door. “Lord and Lady Knightsdale have arrived, my lord.”

“Splendid.” Lord Kenderly and all the men stood as the couple entered. “So glad you could make it.”

“My apologies, Kenderly. One of the children wasn’t feeling well, and Emma wished to be certain everything was in order before we left.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious,” Lady Kenderly said.

“Oh, no.” Lady Knightsdale smiled as she took her seat. “Just a slight fever. Our older son had it first and now it is moving through the family. Nurse has everything well in hand, but of course I still worry.”

“Of course.” Lord Kenderly gestured around the table. “I believe everyone is known to you, except perhaps for Lady Anne Marston and her sister, Lady Evangeline, Lord Crane’s daughters. They just arrived in London yesterday; we were delighted they could join us.”

“My pleasure,” Lord Knightsdale said, bowing, but his lady did not look so pleased. She frowned at Anne before turning to speak to Lord Westbrooke.

“I don’t believe Lady Knightsdale cares much for me,” Anne whispered to Mr. Parker-Roth who was sitting on her right.

“Oh, don’t mind Emma,” he said, taking a swallow of wine. “She can be somewhat fierce if she thinks her family is endangered, but she has a heart of gold.”

“Emma?” Anne darted another glance at the woman and then darted her eyes back to Mr. Parker-Roth when she saw the marchioness was looking at her again. “How is it you are on such close terms with Lady Knightsdale?”

The annoying man grinned. “Never say you’re jealous!”

She felt herself flush. “Of course not. I’m just surprised, though I suppose I shouldn’t be. You obviously move in the first circles.”

Mr. Parker-Roth laughed. “Oh, I don’t know Emma from Town. Her sister is married to my brother.”

“Oh.” That was right. She remembered the account of the scandal in last year’s papers.

“Unfortunately, that connection is enough for her to take an interest in me. I’m certain she’ll approach us at the ball to ask pointed questions about the betrothal rumors—and she won’t be quite as polite as everyone else. But Knightsdale will rein her in.”

“Ah.” Lovely. Perhaps Anne could manage to hide in the retiring room all evening—but then who would keep an eye on Evie? The way Clorinda had her head next to Lord Ramsey’s, it didn’t look as if she would be taking on that responsibility.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you in London before, Lady Anne.” The Duke of Alvord, on her left, claimed her attention. “Surely this can’t be your first trip to Town?”

“But it is, your grace.” The Duke of Alvord was one of the most powerful men in England, yet Anne had liked him and his American-born wife the moment they were introduced. His amber gaze held intelligence and humor.

“You didn’t have a come-out?”

“No. My stepmother was increasing with my twin brothers when I should have come to London.” It was a good excuse, and one she’d given so many times it slipped from her tongue with ease. It was true—to a point. If she’d insisted, Papa would have had some female relative bring her out. His sister, Lady Farrington, had offered. But Anne hadn’t wanted to go to Town, and Papa hadn’t pressed the matter. “And once the babies were born, I was needed to help with them and Evie.”

“I see.” The duke’s gaze was thoughtful. “Are you looking forward to taking your bows now?”

“Oh, I plan to stay very much in the background, your grace. This is my sister’s come-out, not mine.”

The duke grinned at her. “Pardon me for bringing it to your attention, Lady Anne, but you will never be successful at fading into the background. Your beauty and your betrothal to the King of Hearts here will make you the center of much interest.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks flamed yet again. She felt Mr. Parker-Roth’s hand cover hers under the table and give her fingers a comforting squeeze.

The duke looked puzzled. “Have I spoken out of turn? I do apologize, but the news of your betrothal was all over White’s this afternoon. I didn’t think it a secret.” He shrugged, smiling. “The truth is, if it was supposed to be a secret, it’s not any longer.”

“Exactly.” Mr. Parker-Roth looked down at her, giving her hand another surreptitious squeeze. “We’d planned to wait until Anne’s father came home to make a formal announcement, but that was before Lady Dunlee spotted us. There’s no point now in waiting as everyone
does
know. I’ll send a notice to the papers when I get home tonight.”

The papers! Anne’s heart clenched, and black specks danced before her eyes. To have this pretend engagement appear in black and white in every breakfast room in Mayfair, by every cup of chocolate or coffee or tea . . . The scandal would be tremendous when they called it off, even if they waited until the Season was over.

No. A heavy chill settled in her stomach. Not the end of the Season. She was forgetting Brentwood. Once he read the announcement, he’d reveal her secret.

Oh, dear God, she’d become a joke. Her name would be bandied about in all the gentlemen’s clubs. Lewd prints would appear in the shop windows. Everyone would turn from her in disgust. Everyone—especially Mr. Parker-Roth.

She tried to swallow her panic. It would be a relief not to hide her . . . situation any longer. She’d go home and live quietly. Papa wouldn’t throw her out—would he? No, of course he wouldn’t. He needed her to run the estate.

She just wished there was some way to save Evie’s Season.

Mr. Parker-Roth was knocking his knife against his glass to get everyone’s attention. He stood, pulling her up beside him. Her knees barely supported her weight.

“Friends, I have an announcement to make.” He grinned. “Perhaps it’s not much of an announcement as the duke just told us the rumor has already reached White’s, but nevertheless I wish to tell you myself that Lady Anne has agreed to make me the happiest of men.”

“A toast,” the Marquis of Knightsdale said, getting to his feet. All the other men rose as well. The marquis held up his glass. “To Parker-Roth and Lady Anne—may they find the happiness together we all have found”—he gestured to the married couples at the table—“and, to Lady Anne especially, welcome to my extended—very extended—family.”

“Here, here!” Lord Kenderly raised his glass as well, and they all drank.

“A kiss, a kiss,” Lord Westbrooke said as soon as he’d swallowed his mouthful of wine. “Give your lady a kiss, Parker-Roth.”

“Robbie!” Lady Westbrooke yanked on her husband’s coat. “Behave yourself.”

“Now, Lizzie, I’m only giving the man an excuse to do exactly what he wants to do.” The earl grinned.

“But think of poor Lady Anne’s blushes.”

Lord Westbrooke shrugged. “She can’t get any redder than she is, can she?”

“Robbie!”

“I think your husband has an excellent notion, Lady Westbrooke,” Mr. Parker-Roth said.

Everyone laughed, but Anne looked at Mr. Parker-Roth in horror. He wouldn’t—would he?

He would. He bent his head and kissed her very gently on the mouth. It was a soft, incredibly sweet touch, and it took her breath away.

Someone—some laughing male—shouted, “Huzza!” and everyone clapped enthusiastically. Mr. Parker-Roth smiled at her, and then she was allowed to collapse, gratefully, back into her seat.

She looked down at her plate so she wouldn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes. If only she were really betrothed to this man—

But she wasn’t.

Lord Kenderly stood. “To save poor Lady Anne further blushes, I will make an announcement of my own, one I know I can trust you all to keep in confidence.”

“Aha!” Lord Westbrooke was grinning again. “So you wasted no time, did you?”

“Nor did you, Robbie, if I recall correctly,” Lord Knightsdale said.

The duke leaned forward and looked first at Lord Westbrooke and then at Lord Knightsdale. “Could we allow Kenderly to actually make his announcement? Perhaps he merely wishes to tell us he is anticipating a bumper crop of corn this harvest.”

“Right,” Lord Westbrooke said. “And I’m the Queen of Sheba.”

Lord Kenderly held up his hands, laughing. “Gentlemen, peace. Westbrooke is correct in his assumption ; Lady Kenderly is indeed in the family way.”

Everyone clapped again, and the parents at the table—which seemed to be most everyone—proceeded to offer a quantity of good-natured advice.

Anne forced herself to smile. All the women—except Clorinda and Evie—were about her age, and they all had, or were expecting, children. If she were really betrothed to Mr. Parker-Roth—well, it sounded alarmingly like she
was
betrothed to him, but more to the point, if she were really going to
marry
the man—she could be a mother this time next year.

Oh, God. Pain lanced through her, leaving behind an empty ache. She wanted a baby. She wanted a husband and a family and a home that was her own, not her father’s or her stepmother’s, but she’d thrown all that away when she’d let Brentwood under her skirts.

Damn it, she’d been only seventeen. She’d made one mistake—a large one, yes, but only one. She shouldn’t have to pay for it the rest of her life.

She pretended to laugh at something Lord Westbrooke said.

But life wasn’t fair; she knew that. She’d thought she’d come to terms with that truth long ago. People made mistakes, and sometimes those mistakes did change their lives. A mother looked the other way and her child ran out to be crushed under a cart’s wheels. A man on a horse rushed a gate and came home on a hurdle, dead of a broken neck.

A foolish girl fancied herself in love and broke society’s cardinal rule.

It could have been worse. They could have been seen. She could have been forced to marry Brentwood. Living with him, sharing his bed, day after day, year after year, would be a far worse life than the one she had now.