An Affair to Remember (26 page)

Rupert stared, his breath suspended, his heart thudding loudly in his ears. He met her gaze, and his chest contracted. She had cornflower blue eyes, as innocent as a fawn’s, with long, thick lashes that made his heart swell. The sunlight seemed to shimmer and expand, filling his heart, his soul.

Rupert took a step forward.

She turned as if to fly.

“Wait,” he said softly. “Don’t leave. Please.”

She paused, though her body was still tense. “Who are you?”

He managed a bow, smiling up at her as he did so. “Rupert Elliot. I’m here with Miss Thraxton and—”

“Oh!” The nymph’s face glowed. “I knew she would come today.”

Realization dawned. “You are Charlotte Melton,” he said in a strangely hollow voice.

She nodded shyly, her blond ringlets framing her face. “I should go and find Miss Thraxton.”

“No!” He glanced wildly around, desperate for some reason to keep her with him. “We should sit and wait for her together.”

Charlotte glanced at him uneasily. “I shouldn’t stay in the garden alone with—”

“But we are not alone,” he said promptly, moving to a nearby bench and dusting the seat. “Miss Thraxton is on her way here now.”

“That’s true.”

“Here, you can put your books between us, to make sure there is no impropriety.”

She hesitated yet again, and some bit of mirth made him say, “Anna would not hesitate.”

That did it. Charlotte’s chin lifted and she perched on the edge of the bench, setting the book between them.

“Is that one of Miss Thraxton’s books?”

“Yes. I was going to return it to her, though I hate to give it up.”

“What is it?” he asked, entranced by the enthusiasm that shone from her face.

“
Childe Harold
. It’s the most wonderful book I’ve ever read,” she said with so much sincerity that his heart caught again. She turned her wide gaze on him. “Have you read it?”

“Yes,” he lied without the slightest remorse. “It is one of my favorites.” And from this day forward, it would be. “In fact, I’ve told Lord Byron several times how much I enjoyed it.”

“You know Byron?” she said, obviously awed.

He did, though Rupert had never met a more boorish individual in all his days.

“I’ve heard that he is excessively romantic.” She gazed up at Rupert with an adorably shy smile. “Could you tell me about him?”

Anna came around the corner just in time to see Rupert take his place on the bench beside Charlotte. The two made a charming pair—the one small and fair, the other tall and dark. And there was a certain something about them, the way the air was charged with tension. The way Charlotte’s head dropped as if she were fighting the desire to rest her head on Rupert’s shoulder. And Rupert—Anna almost cursed aloud. He was thoroughly smitten. It showed in the way he stared at Charlotte as if he thought she might disappear at any second.

Though Anna hadn’t disguised her footsteps, the two seemed oblivious to her presence. She managed to listen to Rupert give a very inaccurate account of Lord Byron, describing that debauched lord as “fiery” and “bold,” and winning Charlotte’s excited responses in return.

The conversation soon turned to other topics, and Anna learned that Charlotte had not been still in her pursuit of knowledge. She’d not only read
Childe Harold
, but had memorized entire passages and was perfectly able to discuss them with enthusiasm, if very little understanding.

Not that it mattered—to judge by his rapt expression, Rupert thought Charlotte’s every utterance brilliant.

Good God, what had she done? Best to halt this little flirtation before it progressed into something more serious. Anna cleared her throat, immediately gaining the attention of the two on the bench.

They sprang apart, looking amazingly guilty. Anna frowned. She didn’t like this at all.

Charlotte stood, nervously fidgeting with her book. “There you are, Anna!” she said in a breathless voice. “I was looking for you.”

“Were you?” Anna said, pasting a smile on her face. “And now you’ve found me. Rupert, perhaps you should go and check on the horses. They might wander off.”

He stood. “Of course. Miss Melton, it was a pleasure to meet you.” He took her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it.

Anna watched as Charlotte’s face pinkened with pleasure. “Rupert,” Anna said ominously, “you had better hurry. I think I heard a dog barking and you know how skittish Majesty can be.”

Rupert nodded, though he didn’t take his eyes off Charlotte, his hand still holding hers. “Of course.”

They remained where they were, hands clasped, staring into each other’s eyes until Anna was certain she’d explode. “Oh for heaven’s sake,” she finally exclaimed, tromping forward and taking Charlotte’s hand out of Rupert’s grasp. “Go and tend the horses.”

He reddened and with one last lingering glance at Charlotte, he turned and hurried up the path.

Anna stayed only another half hour, and all in all, it was a wasted trip. Charlotte was distracted, her gaze straying far too often in the direction Rupert had disappeared. Frustrated, Anna had abruptly said her good-byes and left. But the worst was yet to come, for on the way home, she had to listen to Rupert’s gushing admiration for the “nymph,” as he called Charlotte. By the time Anna reached Greyley House, she was so disgusted with the whole thing that she dismounted her horse and marched up the stairs without saying a single word to Rupert or anyone else.

She reached her room only to flounce upon her bed and lie staring up at the ceiling. Anna was certain Rupert’s interest in Charlotte was only a passing attraction, something that would burn out as quickly as it began. Or so Anna hoped. She could just imagine Anthony’s fury on discovering that his intended had fallen in love with Rupert—and she knew full well whom Anthony would blame.

R
upert stared at the list on the desk before him. A man of twenty and four years should possess far more than six horses, a curricle, a high perch phaeton, a wardrobe of fashionable clothing, and a run-down cottage set on some lonely acreage in Derbyshire. Disgusted, he threw down the pen, ink splattering across the paper.

There had to be more, or Charlotte was lost to him forever. The last two weeks had been an awakening. For the first time in his frivolous life, he cared about someone else more than himself. Cared with a purity of passion that both frightened and exhilarated him.

Each day brought him closer to Charlotte and they’d taken to meeting secretly, talking for hours on end, finding each other as delightful as their first meeting had promised. Rupert closed his eyes, imagining the warmth of Charlotte’s arms about his neck, the feel of her cool lips beneath his. He would never presume to so much as kiss her hand without
having some understanding, and her relationship with Anthony held them apart.

But soon…if he could find a way to prove to her parents that he could support and cherish her, perhaps then he would have her.

He raked an impatient hand through his hair. No. He
had
to have her. He loved her far too much to let her go. If her parents would not countenance the union, then he’d sweep her off to Gretna Green and—The fantasy abruptly faded. Charlotte was too delicate, too pure to be married over an anvil in the still of night. He had to convince her parents to countenance the match. It was the only way. Rupert dropped his head into his hands and stared down at the dismal list.

If he sold the carriages and four of the horses, he could possibly pay off his debts and still have a little to live on. He straightened slowly, smoothing the paper as he considered what else he should do. They would have to practice economy, of course. But it could be done. Restless, he returned the pen to the holder, picked up the paper, and stood. Perhaps Anna could help him. She knew about practicing economy and what it would take to run a household.

He had just reached the door of the library when Anthony entered. Rupert forced himself to meet Anthony’s quizzical gaze. “There you are,” Rupert said, wishing he didn’t feel so guilty.

Anthony’s dark gaze rested on the paper in Rupert’s hand before he said, “I’m surprised to find you here and not in the nursery or riding with Miss Thraxton.”

“I’m on my way to see Anna now.”

Anthony’s jaw tensed at the way Rupert so casually used Anna’s name. “You sound as if you have become very familiar with my governess.” He didn’t mean to put emphasis on the word “my,” but somehow it came out that way.

It had been hell, but for the past two weeks Rupert had been with Anna for every one of her daily rides. It was all Anthony could do to speak in a civil tone.

Rupert didn’t appear to notice. He just stared down at the paper in his hand, his brow creased. After a moment, he lifted his gaze to Anthony. “I’ve been taking stock of my life. Anthony, due to certain circumstances, I feel it is time I settled down.”

An ominous weight shifted to Anthony’s stomach. He reached out and took the paper from Rupert and silently read through it. “This is all you own?”

“It’s not much but—”

“What are you planning?”

Rupert turned away, as if afraid to face him. His voice, when it came, was strained and taut. “Anthony, I’m in love.”

“With?” Anthony asked silkily, his jaw aching with the effort to keep from ramming his fist in Rupert’s face.

Rupert winced. “You know. How did you find out?”

Anthony didn’t trust himself to speak, so he remained silent.

“Anthony, she’s an angel. I can’t live without her.”

She was not an angel. She was an infuriating, independent woman and it would take an equally strong-willed man to be her partner. Anthony thought about saying as much to Rupert, but the bitterness in his heart would not allow it. He looked down at the list in his hand and noticed that he’d crumpled it into a tight ball. As if the words came from someone else, he heard himself ask, “Does she feel the same for you?”

“I think so. I hope. Oh, I don’t know! We…we have not spoken because of her obligations.”

Anthony frowned. “Obligations?”

“To you.”

Good God, she felt she had to finish her duty to the children before she took up her own life? She saw Anthony as an obligation and nothing more. It was the most lowering moment of Anthony’s life. “What can I do to help you?”

Rupert hesitated. “You can release her, Anthony. Let her go.”

“She’s free to go whenever she wants,” Anthony snapped, “and she knows it.”

A crease rested between Rupert’s brows. “We didn’t mean to…I never thought it would happen like this.”

“No. No, of course not.”

Rupert swallowed. “I hope you will forgive us.”

Anthony turned and walked to the window. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said tightly. How could Anna be in love with Rupert? Even though Rupert had admitted as much, Anthony refused to believe it. He fisted his hands and shoved them into his pockets, staring with unseeing eyes at the garden below.

After a moment, he heard Rupert sigh, and then leave. The door closed behind him.

The pressure in Anthony’s chest increased and he rubbed at his shoulder to ease the ache. Damn Anna Thraxton. She’d invaded his household, set everything on end, forced Rupert to fall in love with her, and now she was planning on blithely dancing away.

And Anthony would just have to let her go, his hands tied by his determination to do the right thing. He thought of Rupert’s list and managed a bitter smile. The boy was deeply in love, you could see it in his eyes, in the way his eyes brightened the second he mentioned Anna.

Anthony unlatched the window and threw it open, then stood leaning out, breathing deeply from the garden below. He’d stood in this same window not a month before and
watched Anna perform her magic on Desford. Though far from perfect, the boy’s behavior was improving daily. All of the children had blossomed under her touch and so, in all honesty, had Anthony.

And now he was going to lose her. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the window. If Rupert was right and Anna returned his regard…He pushed away from the window and turned to his desk. He would show Anna how false her feelings for Rupert were. It was impossible that she could react to Anthony’s touch and be in love with another man—he refused to believe it.

Perhaps he needed to remind Anna of the fire between them. The idea took hold and grew. He would
show
Anna how he felt, show her in a way that would leave no room for anything else.

A thumping sound from the hallway preceded Sir Phineas into the room. “Greyley! How are you today? I left my book on the table and I’ve come to get it—” The older man stopped when he saw Anthony’s expression. “Good God, no one has died, have they?”

“No. I was just thinking about—”
What? Seducing your granddaughter?
Anthony managed a thin smile. “It’s nothing.”

“It has to be something,” Sir Phineas said, closing the door and then limping into the room. He found his book on a small table by a chair that sat beside the fireplace, then he lowered himself into the chair and looked at Anthony with an expectant gaze. “What has you looking like a thundercloud? Not Anna, is it? She has that effect on some people.”

Anthony looked into Sir Phineas’s bright blue eyes and wondered how much he could tell the old man.

As if he read his thoughts, Sir Phineas smiled. “Come, boy. You’ve no one else you can trust. None of your brothers is here.”

That was true. Besides, what did Anthony have to lose? “I’m at a loss and it’s not a feeling I relish.”

“None of us do. Tell me about the matter and maybe I can think of something.”

“I don’t know if you are aware or not, but I’m engaged to Miss Charlotte Melton.”

“So I’ve heard.” The old man pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Don’t think I’ve seen the announcement in the papers.”

“We haven’t posted the banns yet. She is in mourning for several more months.”

“I see.”

“At the time I offered for her, she seemed perfect. She’s young and unspoiled by London life. A very gently bred young lady.”

“Sounds like a paragon. But you don’t look elated.”

Anthony smiled without humor. “I’m not. Since I made the offer I’ve changed my mind. I do not wish to marry her.”

“May I ask what has changed your mind?”

Anthony met the old man’s inquisitive look with a steady gaze.

After a moment, Sir Phineas raised his brows. “Ah! I see. Cry off from your engagement then.”

“I cannot,” Anthony said shortly, jamming his hands back into his pockets. “As much as I wish it, I cannot do anything so dishonorable.”

“The St. John pride makes itself felt.” Sir Phineas sighed. “This is a quandary.”

Silence rested between them. Sir Phineas seemed lost in thought, staring down at his feet. After a moment he looked up. “It’s unfortunate that society has decreed that men cannot cry off from an engagement, but women can. Bloody unfair, if you ask me, but there’s precious little we can do about it.”

“I cannot be dishonest.”

“Then disenchant her by being too honest. Women always get in a taking over the most ridiculous things. I daresay you’ll think of something, Greyley. For what it’s worth, you have my blessings.”

“Sir Phineas, do you know what this would mean?”

A smile touched the old man’s face. “I hope it means that someone we both care about will be made very happy. Someone who deserves the very best.”

Anthony’s throat tightened painfully. “There is the possibility that she loves another.” The words burned his tongue.

Sir Phineas thought the turmoil on Greyley’s face showed a good deal of promise. His one worry had been that the earl would not truly care for Anna, but apparently that fear was unfounded. “What makes you think Anna loves anyone? Damned secretive, that girl. Not one to wear her heart on her sleeve.”

“My cousin Rupert seems to think she—” The earl stopped, white lines appearing at either side of his mouth.

“Ah, the young Mr. Elliot. He seems an impetuous sort. And not always correct in his assumptions.”

A light gleamed in Greyley’s gaze. “Perhaps you are right. It’s just that Anna seems to seek him out, while she avoids me.”

“Daresay she’s afraid she’ll reveal too much.” Sir Phineas picked up his book and stood. “She’s a proud woman, my Anna. But trust me, my boy, there’s always hope. And when that fails, there’s guile and wile.”

“There are times when I see a bit of your granddaughter in you.”

“I daresay there’s more than a little.” Sir Phineas flashed a brief smile. “But before you approach Anna, I believe you have something else to see to.”

Anthony nodded briefly. “I’ll take care of it this very afternoon. Whatever occurs, I cannot follow that path.”

“Excellent,” Phineas said, hobbling to the door, the thick carpet muffling the thump of his cane. “If you need any help, you know where to find me.”

Sir Phineas gave the earl a reassuring wink and then left, content that things were progressing very satisfactorily indeed. Whistling merrily, Phineas made his way back to the nursery.

Lady Putney waited until the thumping of his cane faded into the silence before she stepped from behind the suit of armor by the library door. Though it had been closed, she’d been able to hear enough of the conversation to know what Greyley was about.

Anger dripped through her. Were none of her sons worth the effort she’d expended in their behalf? Fools, every one! She’d been counting on Rupert to woo that red-haired harridan away from Greyley, and what had he done but force the issue. The earl was more infatuated than ever, even to the point of trying to trick Charlotte into crying off.

Lady Putney’s mouth thinned. She would have something to say to that. Within a remarkably short time, she was in a carriage and on her way to Melton House.

Charlotte pressed her hands to her heated cheeks, trying to comprehend what she’d been told. “It cannot be true.”

Lady Putney’s overpainted face softened with seeming sympathy. “It’s true, my dear. I shouldn’t have told you, but I thought you had the right to know.”

Charlotte swallowed, aware of a sinking feeling in the region of her stomach. Her parents had lost their entire fortune, every last pence? It seemed impossible. But here was Lady Putney, who was not only one of Mama’s dearest friends, but
also her beloved Rupert’s mother, telling her the facts as she knew them.

At the thought of Rupert, Charlotte clenched her hands before her. “It’s hard to believe. My father was just talking of purchasing some additional lands.”

“He probably will, once he has the money Greyley has promised.”

Charlotte’s gaze flew to Lady Putney’s. “What money?”

Lady Putney shook her head sadly. “They didn’t tell you about that, either? I vow, but I could pinch your mother for her stubbornness. She didn’t want to worry you, which I’m sure is to her credit, but still…” She sighed.

Charlotte placed a trembling hand to her forehead. Her mind whirled with the information Lady Putney had given her—her mother had overspent on the household expenses, their man of business had made some imprudent improvements on the estate, her father had made some poor investments…Charlotte suddenly remembered that her father had seemed in an ill mood lately, which she had attributed to all the talk of the wedding, for Mama seldom spoke of anything else. Now his moodiness took on a far more horrible meaning.

Lady Putney looked about the sitting room with a sad gaze. “It will be difficult seeing someone else in this dear house. I shall always think of you when I come.”

Tears welled in Charlotte’s eyes. “The house—” She could not say it.

Lady Putney seemed to suddenly realize the depth of Charlotte’s distress, for she took Charlotte’s hands in her own. “Oh, my dear! Forget I said anything about it. I’m sure something will occur to right your family fortune. Perhaps even—wait. What am I thinking of? Your marriage to Greyley will fix everything!”