Secrets of a Runaway Bride (17 page)

*   *   *

Annie arrived precisely on time. She was wearing the same dress she’d been in the day before, her arms were crossed over her chest, and she had a resigned look on her face.

“You wanted to speak with me?” she said, walking woodenly into the room.

“Yes. Come in. Sit down.” Jordan gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

Annie made her way to the seat and perched on the edge of the chair. “I’m worried about my fox. Who will take care of Dash?”

“You didn’t think about that before you took off for Scotland?”

She gave him a decidedly unhappy stare.

“Don’t worry,” he replied. “I’ve already arranged for Evans to see to him and the pups.”

Annie let out her breath. “Thank you for that.”

Jordan steepled his fingers in front of his face. “Your maid should arrive today with some of your clothes and other things. And Aunt Clarissa, of course.”

Annie nodded. “I’m glad to know in addition to abduction, you’re at least giving a nod to propriety.”

Jordan smirked. “The only abduction that’s taken place here is you from yourself. I did you a great favor, though you fail to recognize it at present.”

Annie arched a brow. “Tell me, Lord Ashbourne, is it difficult to be so very clever?”

He ignored that remark. “I don’t expect you to appreciate any of this right now but—”

“I will someday. Is that it?”

“Yes.”

She looked away. “I’ve been a fool.”

Jordan eyed her profile. Her smooth skin shone like silk and the proud way she held her shoulders bespoke her frustration. “I called you in here to inform you of my plans. I intend to introduce you to some … gentlemen.”

Annie’s head snapped up to face him. “Gentlemen?”

“Yes. Starting with my brothers, in fact.”

Her mouth fell open. “Your brothers?”

“Yes.”

“You cannot be serious.”

The look of incredulity on her face was enough to make Jordan scowl. “I daresay any one of my brothers is preferable to Eggthorpe.”

Annie tossed a hand in the air. “You’re mad. What? One man is just as good as another?”

“Not at all. As I said, my brothers are preferable. You need a man who won’t do things like allow you to talk him into trips to Gretna Green.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “I did no such thing.”

Jordan gave her his most ironic look. “Are you honestly going to tell me that you didn’t suggest the trip?”

Annie slapped her palm on the front of the desk. “I would be wasting my breath trying to convince you, but no, it was Arthur’s idea.”

“The dolt has bungled the job twice now. Make no mistake, a real man would have succeeded.” Jordan braced both hands on the desk and leaned toward her, staring her in the eye. “Let me assure you, if
I’d
been your groom, you’d be mine by now, with or without benefit of the clergy.”

Annie’s face flushed a lovely shade of pink. She pushed back in her chair and cleared her throat. “
You
would never be my choice of groom,” she snapped.

“Agreed,” Jordan replied in a tightly controlled voice, but something about the way she’d said it with such smug assurance made him crazy. Why, London was full of ladies who would choose him for a groom. Didn’t little Miss Know-it-all know
that
?

Annie glanced away, her chest rising and falling with her deep breaths. “And what will your brothers think of this? Your attempt to marry them off to a woman they’ve never even met?”

Jordan straightened back up and shrugged. “They’re young, healthy, intelligent. They all intend to take a wife at some point; there’s no reason for them not to be interested in you.”

“Wonderful. Humiliating
and
a waste of time for everyone involved.”

“Who says it will be a waste of time?”

“I do. You cannot just force people to fall in love. I’ve never even met your brothers.”

“Yes, well, I intend to rectify that, starting tomorrow. My youngest brother, Michael, will be here.”

Annie stood up, her arms still crossed over her chest, her eyes shooting flames at him. “Is there anything else or am I dismissed?”

Jordan raised a brow. “You’re not a servant here.”

“Funny. It feels as if I am.”

“You’re a houseguest with a penchant for trouble, is what you are.”

She turned on her heel and stalked to the door. “May I write letters to my friends in London or is that to be forbidden as well?”

Jordan grinned at her. “As long as you don’t marry or leave this property for the next two weeks, you’re free to do as you wish.”

Annie turned back to look at him and her dark brown curls fell over her shoulder in a most fetching display. She pushed up her chin. “I shall do as I wish whether I’m
free
to or not.”

Jordan narrowed his eyes on her. “Oh, I have little doubt of that. Good day, Miss Andrews. See you tomorrow when I introduce you to Michael.”

CHAPTER 22

When Michael arrived the next morning, Annie was nowhere to be found. After nearly twenty minutes of searching, Jordan eventually located her in the gardens.

She was on her hands and knees next to Mr. McGivens, the gardener, planting a row of daffodil bulbs along the side of the fence. She looked like nothing so much as a pretty country milkmaid with the sun glinting off her dark hair and a radiant smile on her face.

Jordan cleared his throat. “Miss Andrews.”

She glanced up and the fetching smile was replaced with a look of resignation that made Jordan inexplicably sad for a moment. “Ready?” he asked.

Annie got to her feet and brushed the dirt from her skirts. She was wearing a pretty peach-colored day dress that made her look lovely, reminding Jordan of the fact that her maid had arrived with Annie’s clothing. Aunt Clarissa was there too, making inappropriate comments about his looks and asking different footmen to bring her a bit of sherry on a regular basis.

“I’m as ready as I expect to be.” Annie sighed. Turning back toward Mr. McGivens, she gave him a radiant smile. “Thank you very much for allowing me to help. I do so love to plant things.”

“The pleasure was entirely mine, Miss Andrews,” the old gardener replied with a wide smile.

Jordan looked twice. Mr. McGivens actually blushed. He hadn’t seen the old man so much as crack a smile in all his years in the family’s employ. Jordan shook his head.

Annie righted her skirts and followed Jordan toward the back entrance of the house.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You enjoy gardening?”

Annie nodded. “Very much. I’ve been living in London so long, and we have no gardens there. It’s quite sad, actually. The closest I’ve come to gardening is taking care of all of the flowers Lily’s suitors used to send. Oh my, there were some lovely flowers then.”

Jordan couldn’t help but smile. “So what do you think of McGivens’s work?”

“He has done a wonderful job. I told him so. You have absolutely beautiful flowers and trees here. But I think the sweeping entrance to the manor house would be that much more impressive if you planted some poplars along the road.”

Jordan nearly choked. “What did Mr. McGivens say when you suggested that?”

“Why, he loved the idea. He said it hadn’t occurred to him before.”

Jordan frowned. “That doesn’t sound like McGivens.”

Annie’s face registered her innocence. “Whatever do you mean? He’s a dear man.”

This time Jordan had a coughing fit in an attempt to cover his laughter. “Dear? McGivens?”

“Yes, absolutely. He listened to all my ideas and said he would make note of them. He thanked me.”

“If you say so.” They reached the back terrace then and Jordan opened the French doors and held one open above her head as Annie swept through before him.

Jordan hesitated. “Would you like to … ah, freshen up before you meet Michael?”

Her brow furrowed. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Isn’t that what ladies do when they are trying to impress gentlemen?”

Annie sighed. “Most ladies, yes. But not me. Besides, with all due respect, I’m not trying to impress your brother.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

She expelled her breath. “I’m afraid no amount of ‘freshening up’ will make me look any better. Besides, your brother is not going to want me.”

Jordan scowled. What the deuce was she talking about? She looked delectable even with that streak of dirt across her lovely cheekbone. He’d be surprised if his brother didn’t pounce on her and cart her off to Gretna Green himself.

“How do you know?” Jordan asked.

Annie gave him a patronizing smile. “Because this isn’t the way it works.”

“Nonsense.” Jordan shook his head. “I’ve been to enough awkward Society events to know that two eligible young people meet, have an affinity for one another, and marry. Many of the
ton
’s longest-lasting unions have been based on less.”

Annie shrugged. “Very well. Let’s go and get this over with.” She made to follow him down the corridor into the salon.

Facing her, Jordan paused. “It’s just that—”

Annie stopped short. “What?”

“You’ve got—”

“What? What is it?”

Jordan felt like a deuced fool. How exactly did one tell a woman she had a streak of dirt on her cheek? He’d never encountered such a problem before. His mistresses were the types who would not so much as touch a speck of dust, let alone plop down in the mud next to the gardener. “You’ve just got—” He gestured to her cheek.

“What?”

“You’ve got a bit of dirt there.” He pointed again.

“Oh, my.” Annie frantically wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand. “Is it gone?”

Jordan smiled. She’d smudged it a bit and the resulting look was absolutely adorable. It sort of gave her the appearance of having a black eye, something he could well imagine the fiery Miss Andrews sporting. “Almost,” he replied. “Here.”

He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, and using his thumb, he brushed the dirt away from her cheek. Annie gulped and glanced away, not meeting his eyes. Jordan’s throat tightened. A jolt of recognition at the touch simmered through his hand. He made quick work of brushing away the dirt and pulled back his hand as if burned.

“Th … thank you,” she murmured, her eyes still cast downward.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, before stepping toward the door to the salon.

“By the way,” she said, with a saucy smile. “I’ve written to Lord Medford. I expect him to arrive and rescue me any moment now.”

Jordan groaned. “Perfect.”

*   *   *

Annie followed Lord Ashbourne into the room. A young man who looked like a shorter, younger version of Jordan stood up, a bright smile on his handsome face.

“There you are,” he said, a sparkle in his gray eyes.

Annie watched him closely. He seemed exactly like Lord Ashbourne only without the air of cynicism his older brother possessed. And there was something just a bit less compelling too. But she could befriend this young man. She was sure of it.

He greeted her with a warm smile. “I didn’t realize you had a guest, Jordan,” Michael said, looking a bit chagrined.

Jordan pulled Annie out from behind him. “Mr. Michael Holloway, may I present Miss Anne Andrews.”

Annie smiled brightly at Michael and curtsied. “A pleasure,” she said.

“Miss Andrews, the pleasure is mine. It’s been quite a long time since Jordan has introduced me to any of his, ah, lady friends and I—”

Jordan coughed. “No. No, Michael. I wanted
you
to meet Miss Andrews.”

Michael blinked. “Me? Whatever for?”

“I thought the two of you might find something in common.” He gave him a commanding stare and then motioned to Annie with his eyes.

His brow furrowed, Michael waited for Annie to sit and then sat across from her attentively. He looked a bit less comfortable than before but obviously his manners prevented him from asking his brother what the deuce he was up to presenting a woman to him like this. “Do you follow the horse races, Miss Andrews?”

Annie shook her head. “No, I’m afraid I don’t know very much about them at all.”

“Why, that’s why I’ve come, Jordan. I’m off to the races tomorrow and was very much hoping you’d want to place bets too. And if you could see fit to loan me a few hundred quid, why, I’m sure to make it back ten times over.”

Jordan gave his brother an unhappy stare. “This is completely inappropriate to be discussing in front of a lady, Michael. And we’ve talked about your gambling.”

Michael’s face fell. “Quite right. My apologies, Miss Andrews. I do hope I’m not offending you. But Jordan, you would not believe these horses. They’re sure winners, I tell you. Sure winners.”

“Not offending me at all,” Annie replied with a smile. She settled into the cushions of the settee, thoroughly enjoying Lord Ashbourne’s failed attempt at matchmaking.

Jordan spent the next uncomfortable hour attempting to divert the conversation away from horses and sportsmanship while Annie sat with an amused smile on her face, asking Michael all sorts of questions about his love of equines.

“Doesn’t Lord Ashbourne like to gamble?” Annie asked.

Michael made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort. “Hardly. In fact, I’ve never known Jordan to gamble, not on horses at least.”

Jordan gave him a cautioning glare. “I adore cards, however.”

“And he never loses at them,” Michael replied. “I wish I had just a bit of your luck, Jordan.”

“It’s not luck,” Jordan replied with a wink.

Despite herself, Annie laughed. The man was unrepentantly arrogant. “Why doesn’t your brother bet on horses then, Mr. Holloway?” she asked Michael, suddenly fascinated by this glimpse into Jordan’s life.

“You’d have to ask him that,” Michael replied, with a friendly smile. “But I swear he’s the only nobleman who doesn’t spend much time at Tatt’s, and come to think on it, I’ve never known him to participate in a hunt.”

This unexpected bit of news caught Annie entirely by surprise. Her gaze flew to Jordan’s face.

“Awful sport.” Jordan shook his head. “I’ve no interest in it.”

Annie settled back, a half-smile resting on her face.