Secrets of a Runaway Bride (21 page)

She shook her head. “I couldn’t believe it. And the truth is, your brother has seemed much more concerned about my reputation than Arthur ever did.”

“Jordan may be controlling, but he is full of honor. Of that I can assure you.”

Annie eyed him carefully and decided to ask the question that had been lingering on the tip of her tongue ever since she’d been alone with Charlie. “Do you know what happened? With Jordan, years ago? Who he made a fool of himself over, I mean?”

Charlie’s eyes went wide. “Who told you Jordan made a fool of himself?”

“He did.”

“I wouldn’t say he made a fool of himself. Just a bad decision. A mistake. We all make them. But Jordan tends to be extremely hard on himself when he does.”

Annie searched Charlie’s face. “What happened?”

“Now that, Miss Andrews, I cannot tell you. You’ll have to ask Jordan himself. It’s not my story to tell. But I know he likes you very much. He told me so. I’m sure he’ll answer whatever questions you have.”

Annie’s face fell. She hitched up her skirts in her hand to avoid dragging them through a mud puddle. She wasn’t about to ask Jordan to tell her the story. She sighed. “Yes. He’s done everything to help me, including bringing me out here and even introducing me, to you and your brothers. I’ve only now realized what high regard he must have for me to do so.”

Charlie gave her a conspiratorial grin. “You know what I think, Miss Andrews? Just between the two of us?”

Annie smiled. This time she placed her hand upon her heart. “Upon my honor.”

“I believe my brother holds you in very, very high regard indeed.”

*   *   *

“So what did you think of her?” Jordan asked Charlie several hours later when the two brothers were kicked back in Jordan’s study enjoying a brandy.

Charlie propped his booted feet on the desk in front of him. “I think she’s lovely, intelligent, funny, and quite nice.”

Jordan felt a twinge of jealousy. Unexpected and entirely unwelcome. He forced himself to relax back in his leather chair and smiled a smug smile. “There. I knew at least one of my brothers would have some sense.”

Charlie cleared his throat. “The more important question, however, is what do
you
think of her?”

Jordan blinked. “What do I think of her? What does that matter?”

Charlie took a long drink. “I think it matters very much.”

Jordan’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“For one thing, I haven’t seen you this interested in a young lady for about, oh … five years.”

Jordan allowed a dark scowl to creep across his face. “Interested?” He snorted. “Hardly. You know Colton set me to watch after the girl. She’s his sister-in-law, for God’s sake.”

“Yes, and did you not tell me last month you planned to check in on her once or twice and leave it at that? And now she’s living here?”

Jordan rolled his eyes. “She’s hardly living here. She’s merely proven more difficult to manage than I’d anticipated. She’ll be gone in little more than a week.”

Charlie shrugged. “Proving more difficult to manage than you’d anticipated I can well believe, but it seems to me that trying to marry her off to your brother is beyond your promise. Is it not?”

Jordan tossed back his drink and shrugged this time. “I told you, the girl fancies herself in love with Arthur Eggleston of all people.”

“So?”

“So, Eggleston is a twit. He’s proven that time and again.”

Charlie gave him a skeptical glance. “So the only reason you’re interested in this girl’s future is to keep her from making a match with Eggleston?”

“It’s as you said—she’s smart, pretty, clever. She’d make an excellent wife and mother.”

“I agree.”

Jordan swallowed. He’d expected this to happen. Planned it, actually, but now that the moment was here and Charlie seemed to be smitten with Annie, he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of … regret. He cleared his throat, a dark mood suddenly coming over him. “So, you do want to offer for her?”

Charlie threw his head back and laughed, then downed the last of the amber liquid in his glass. “Absolutely not.”

Jordan scowled at him. “But you just said she’d make an excellent wife and mother. She could be the mother of the future heir to the earldom.”

Charlie raised his empty glass in a silent salute. “No doubt, she could, old chap. Only what if the heir was your son, not your nephew?”

CHAPTER 27

Jordan asked her to join him for dinner. They’d been dining separately, up until now. The more space he kept between them the better. But the longer Annie had stayed at Ashbourne Manor, the more he looked forward to her company. And confound it! He couldn’t resist asking her what she and Charlie had spoken about this afternoon.

Charlie.
Jordan growled. Charlie had always been astute, but the man had completely missed the mark on this one. Perhaps Jordan hadn’t been completely right in his attempts to play matchmaker for Annie with his brothers, but Charlie’s proposal that Jordan should marry her, why, it was completely absurd. Charlie knew damn well what had happened in the past and Annie Andrews couldn’t change it.

It was just like Charlie to be so deliberately provocative too. But Jordan refused to allow it to ruffle him. If Annie and his brothers didn’t hit it off, there were still plenty of eligible men to whom he might introduce her. It was only a matter of finding the right one.

Aunt Clarissa was already sitting at the table, eyeing Jordan in a way that made him feel positively uncomfortable, when Annie flew into the dining room in a swirl of pink satin. The color looked fetching on her. When she entered a room, it always seemed as though she’d been rushing from somewhere else, as though her life were too busy and fun for her to be precisely on time. Despite himself he liked that quality about her. He liked it a lot.

“Good evening, Jordan,” she said in a breathless rush. “Aunt Clarissa.” She nodded.

“Helping Mr. McGivens again? Or was it Mrs. Phillips tonight?” Jordan asked.

Annie slid into her seat to his immediate right, across from Aunt Clarissa, and pulled her napkin onto her lap. A footman rushed forth to pour her a glass of wine.

“Neither,” she said with a tinkling laugh.

“The puppies again? Or was it Jeffries?” He winked at her.

“None of those,” she replied, and then with an irrepressible smile, “though I do have one or two suggestions for your steward if you think he might care to listen.”

Jordan watched her carefully over his wine glass. “Tell me something. How do you know so much about running an estate?”

She shrugged just one shoulder. “I did a lot of eavesdropping on Lily’s lessons,” she admitted. “My mother ensured she was brought up to run a great household. I was always fascinated by the things she was allowed to study.”

“You’re every bit as capable as Lily,” Jordan replied. “Which makes me wonder why you’re so determined to waste yourself on Eggleston.”

Aunt Clarissa glanced up from her wine glass. “Here, here,” she said, raising her glass.

Annie looked twice at the older woman. “Why, Aunt Clarissa. I’d no idea you felt that way.”

“You never asked, dear. But I quite agree with Lord Ashbourne. That Eggleston chap is a boob.”

Annie shook her head. “Is there no one who actually likes Arthur?” She sighed.

“No,” Aunt Clarissa replied a bit too loudly before turning her attention back to her wine glass.

Annie shook her head and said to Jordan, “Regardless, I could have saved you and your brothers time and effort as well, you know?”

“How?” He didn’t remove his gaze from her face.

“You shouldn’t have bothered to call them here, tried to introduce them to me.”

“Why? Because you’re so madly in love with Eggleston?” Jordan swore if she answered yes, he’d go find that idiot and snap his neck.

“No,” she replied, waiting patiently for the footman to serve her the first course of roast duck. “But the way you’re going about it isn’t right at all. It just isn’t the way true love happens.”

Aunt Clarissa vigorously shook her head. “If I were you, dear, I’d toss Eggleston on his ear and marry Charlie Holloway before the year is through.”

Jordan nearly choked on his food. “Aunt Clarissa has a point.” He smiled. “Besides, do you still believe you love Eggleston?” This time there was no denying it. Jordan felt the spark of … jealousy. Blast it, where had that unwelcome emotion come from? But there it was. He was jealous. Of that idiot Arthur Eggleston. He wished he could take back the question. Didn’t want to hear the answer. But it was too late. Aunt Clarissa pushed her chair away from the table and excused herself to use the convenience. They both silently watched her go. Jordan eyed Annie closely, waiting for her to speak.

Annie glanced away and shook her head. When she spoke, her voice was soft so the footmen hovering near the sideboard would not overhear.

“Loved,” Annie whispered to Jordan. “I realize now that I was a fool. But as to why I loved him, I told you. No one ever wanted me. But when I met Arthur, he told me how pretty he thought I was. Of course he must have been exaggerating, but he was the first person to ever tell me such a thing. And I thought, oh, there
is
someone for everyone.”

Her face lit up then and Jordan had the insane urge to bury his fist in Eggleston’s gut. Jordan set down his fork and slid his hand over hers. “Annie,” he whispered.

Annie pulled her hand away and took a shaky sip of wine. “What I lack in beauty, I make up for in pluck,” she declared, the smile returning to her pretty face.

Jordan had to struggle to control his anger. This time he wanted to snap her idiot father’s neck. “You’re wrong,” he said quietly, staring her in the eye. “You’re very beautiful.”

Her breathing hitched and she glanced away. “You don’t have to say that.”

Jordan narrowed his eyes on her. “How old were you when your father died?”

“Fourteen.”

“Yes, well, he never should have implied that you weren’t beautiful, but you’ve grown into one of the loveliest young ladies I’ve ever seen.”

She laughed a self-conscious laugh. “Now I
know
you’re just being kind. I’ve seen your mistress.”

“God, Annie. Listen to me,” Jordan whispered. “You’re every bit as lovely as Nicoletta. More so, actually, because you are completely unaffected.”

Annie didn’t meet his gaze. She pushed her chair back and stood. “I hope you don’t find this too rude, my lord. But I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. Please excuse me.” She dashed from the room, her handkerchief pressed to her mouth, before Jordan could say a word.

He let her go, then thought better of it. He pushed his own chair aside, tossed his napkin to the table, and quickly followed Annie out the door. He saw a flash of pink enter the salon at the end of the hallway.

In several long strides, Jordan was at the door and rushed inside. Annie was pacing back and forth across the Aubusson rug, her arms wrapped across her middle.

“Are you all right?” he asked, feeling like a damned fool.

“I … just … need a moment.”

“Annie, look at me,” he commanded, and when her eyes met his he saw the unshed tears shining in their dark depths. She wasn’t crying. He’d expected her to be crying. Didn’t most females cry in circumstances like this? Nicoletta certainly would have. But then he realized the difference. Nicoletta wouldn’t have told him a story like that unless she wanted something from him. A trinket or some sympathy, it didn’t matter. But Annie hadn’t been trying to get anything from him. She’d just told him the truth and then she’d tried to leave his company so he wouldn’t see that she was upset. Nicoletta would have ensured he witnessed every moment of it.

He crossed over to Annie and took her chin firmly in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Your father was an idiot and I can’t believe that Arthur Eggleston was the first man to ever tell you how beautiful you are. But trust me, he was not the first man to think it.”

Annie tugged her chin away from his grasp and shook her head. “Jordan. Don’t. Please.”

He grasped her shoulders. “Listen to me, Annie. You must believe me. Why are you so upset?”

She wrapped her arms more tightly across her middle. “You have a mistress who looks like Cleopatra and you tell me I’m beautiful. Of course it’s not true.”

“Blast it, Annie. It sure as hell is true. Why would you think it’s not? Because of a few careless things your idiot father told you?”

She dashed her hands across her eyes. “No. Ronald Richardson said it too.”

“What? Who is Ronald Richardson?”

“A boy.” She took two steps away, wringing her hands. “The first boy I ever loved. Well, thought I loved … I fancied him for as long as I can remember.”

Jordan’s voice was calm, smooth. “What happened?”

“We were alone together once, in the meadow by my father’s house. It was exceedingly romantic. The wind was blowing. The sun was setting. I was
sure
he would kiss me.” Her voice trailed off.

“He didn’t?”

“No, he didn’t. He took me into his arms. He looked into my eyes, and he said, ‘Mud. Your eyes are the color of mud. Do you know that?’ Then he laughed … and asked if I wanted to go riding.”

Jordan cursed under his breath. Another person who needed his neck snapped. “He’s an idiot too. How old were you?”

She turned back to face him and shrugged. “Fifteen, perhaps. Sixteen. I thought he fancied me as much as I fancied him. But I realized that day, I wasn’t like the other girls. Not like Lily with her beautiful violet-blue eyes and tinkling laughter. I’m just Annie. The girl with the mud-colored eyes who’s everyone’s friend. The girl you go riding with. The girl you go shooting with. The girl who can drive a tandem team. Never the girl you take into your arms and kiss.”

Jordan reached her in one long stride and he pulled her to him, clutching her upper arms and searching her face. “Annie, listen to me, you’re much more than that.”

“No. I’m—”

“Damn it, you’ve been driving me mad for days now.”

“Wh … what?” Her eyes were wide.

“All I can think about is this.” Jordan’s mouth swooped down to capture hers. Annie’s head tilted back. Her hands went around his neck. Jordan’s hot mouth ravaged hers. His tongue pushed her lips apart and she melted against him. He scooped her up into his arms and in two long strides was at the settee. He sat down with her, never letting his mouth leave hers. Annie pressed herself against him. Her reaction to him was driving him even more insane. She tasted like honey, sweet and languorous. She smelled like lilacs and soap and happiness.