Secrets of a Runaway Bride (23 page)

This time Annie shot out of her chair. “Lord Medford! You cannot be serious. You do not intend to leave me here.”

“My dear, your sister left you in Ashbourne’s care, and I must say you look as if you’re perfectly healthy and safe to me. I’ve seen enough to convince me.”

Jordan turned to face him. “You really came all the way out here thinking she’d been hurt?”

“Absolutely not, but I could hardly ignore Anne’s pleas. She’d written me so many letters I was beginning to fear the cost of ink would beggar you, Ashbourne.”

Annie gave both of them a condemning glare. “I cannot believe this. You’re both mad, as far as I’m concerned. I’m going back to my room.” She swiveled on her heel, made her way to the door, pushed it open, and sailed through it.

Medford watched her go with a wry smile on his face.

Jordan snorted. “She’s not going to take kindly to your leaving her here. I believe you are persona non grata of a sudden.”

Medford downed the rest of his drink, set the glass on the table, and stood to leave. “Be that as it may, I do believe she’s in good hands.”

“Would you please tell her that on your way out?” Jordan asked.

“Not a chance, my good man, what fun would there be in that? Half of the excitement here is Anne believing you’ve trussed her up and carted her off. And frankly, that girl could use a good trussing. Just remember, she may seem brave and tough, but she’s really very sweet and well-meaning.”

Jordan gave him a tight smile. “Sure you won’t reconsider and take her with you?”

“What? And deny you the fun of hosting a ball? I wouldn’t dream of it, Ashbourne.”

Jordan accompanied him to the door. “Very well, I’m sure Annie will keep you informed of her torture.”

“Make sure you find a good chap for her, Ashbourne. Someone honorable, kindhearted, wealthy, handsome, and noble.”

“Oh yes, quite an easy order. It shall prove no trouble at all, I’m sure.”

Medford winked at him. “Think hard, Ashbourne. I’m sure you know
someone
who fits the bill.”

CHAPTER 30

Ashbourne Manor was ablaze with the light of thousands of twinkling beeswax candles. A steady stream of fine coaches lined the drive, depositing their elegant occupants upon the steps of the grand house. Everyone who was anyone in London had arrived in the country. When the Earl of Ashbourne hosted a ball at his country estate, the drive to Surrey was a minor inconvenience, it seemed.

Mary had spent hours putting up Annie’s hair in a chignon, letting a few soft, fat curls dance along her shoulders. She had a bit of pink rouge on the balls of her cheeks, a hint of fine powder on her nose, and she was wearing her most dazzling ball gown of soft, ice-blue satin with tiny flowers around the empire waist and her long white kid gloves and matching ice-blue slippers. She felt like a fairy princess and a glance in the mirror told her she looked halfway presentable.

“Ye’re a vision as usual, Miss Annie,” Mary said, standing back and surveying her handiwork.

“A dream,” said Aunt Clarissa, who sat on the side of the bed, watching the proceedings with great interest.

Annie blushed. “Thank you very much, both of you.” She pressed her hand to her middle. “I fear I’m a bit nervous. I’ve no idea why but I haven’t been this anxious since the night of my debut.”

Mary squeezed her hand. “Ye’ll be perfect.”

Annie blinked into the looking glass. Her eyelashes were long and lovely. She could admit at least that much. They were, perhaps, her finest feature.

Oh, why was she so filled with nerves? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t attended a dozen balls before and those in London, which were much more formal.

She hadn’t invited Arthur. He would not be here tonight. Did he even wonder what had happened to her since he’d left her at the inn? Probably not. But she was through with him anyway, so what did she care?

She sighed. Oh, she knew exactly why this ball was setting her on edge. It was because Jordan had planned it in her honor, because it was meant to catch her an eligible gentleman. Very well, and if she were being honest, facing Jordan again made her knees shake. Ever since their kiss the other night and Lord Medford’s visit, she’d studiously avoided Jordan, unsure how to think or feel. She’d decided he’d obviously kissed her because he felt sorry for her and her sad little tale about being so plain. The man had taken pity on her. And she couldn’t bear to think of it, but the fact was that his kiss had made her go all melty inside. She couldn’t stop her body’s reaction to him. The man was simply gorgeous. And the best thing to do when faced with a gorgeous man who had a penchant for kissing you every now and then was to stay scarce. Obviously.

Annie turned to face Mary and squared her shoulders. One large curl fell over her shoulder and caressed her décolletage. “Am I presentable then?”

“Ye’re a vision, Miss Annie,” Mary breathed.

“Might I suggest you make your way toward Charles Holloway and stay there?” Aunt Clarissa suggested with a wink and a hiccup.

Annie laughed. “You know, Aunt Clarissa, I just may take that advice.” Gathering up her skirts in her hands, Annie left the room. The ball was already well under way. She’d purposely intended to make a late entrance. Perhaps then she wouldn’t feel so self-conscious. But now as she made her way to the grand ballroom on shaky legs, she realized it didn’t matter when she made her entrance; self-conscious she would be. She paused to press her gloved hand to her middle and still her nerves. She took a deep breath.

When Jeffries saw her approaching, his face lit up.

“Miss Anne Andrews,” his loud voice intoned as he announced her arrival to the other guests.

Annie immediately felt the hundreds of pairs of eyes on her as she entered Jordan’s magnificent ballroom. She pushed up her chin and pretended she was Lily. Her sister would never be nervous in such a situation. Lily was born to be the center of attention. Oh, how did she make it look so effortless? Annie was having awful visions of tripping on her slippers and sliding across the floor in front of London’s most fashionable set.

Annie made her way into the room with as much confidence as she could muster. Suddenly, Jordan was there at her side, taking her arm.

“You look ravishing tonight,” he said, and gooseflesh popped out on Annie’s skin where his warm breath had touched.

“Th … thank you,” she managed. “You’re very kind.”

“I’m serious. You’re a vision.”

Annie swallowed. “Mary brought this dress with her from London.”

“Dance with me,” he breathed. “I insist on claiming your first dance.”

Annie laughed. “But what of the other gentlemen who have come to meet me—won’t they be severely disappointed with you keeping me all to yourself?”

“They’ll just have to wait,” he said, sweeping Annie into his arms.

They danced and danced and danced. Jordan was an exquisite partner. She remembered dancing with him one other time, last spring at the Atkinsons’ estate. Apparently Lord Colton had put him up to it, but she barely remembered any details. Most likely they’d discussed the weather, the house party, the refreshments. All very bland, she was sure. That night she’d been entirely preoccupied with Arthur.

Arthur!

Annie glanced around. She hadn’t even looked for Arthur yet. So unlike her. Even knowing he wouldn’t be there, she’d danced an entire dance with Jordan and Arthur hadn’t even so much as crossed her mind.

When the dance ended, Jordan thanked her and she curtsied to him. “I think I see my friend Frances,” she said. “Won’t you excuse me?”

“Frances? Why, I feel as if Frances and I are old friends. Introduce me,” Jordan replied.

It was on the tip of Annie’s tongue to laugh it off, but then she remembered Frances’s infatuation with the man. Meeting Jordan would be the highlight of her friend’s whole night, whole month; perhaps. Yes, she would bring Jordan with her. “Thank you. I believe she’d like that very much.” She struggled to hide her smile.

Annie led Jordan over to the side of the ballroom where Frances stood with her mother. Her eyes were wide as teacup saucers watching Annie and Jordan approach. Annie prayed Frances didn’t cast up her accounts on Jordan’s expensive Hessians or swoon in front of him.

Annie made the proper introductions and Jordan bowed elegantly to both ladies while they stammered and stamped about. He took Frances’s hand and bent over it. “My pleasure,” he said in his smoothest voice, and Annie guessed that Frances’s knees were knocking together.

“Oh, Lord Ashbourne, the pleasure is mine,” Frances said. “I mean ours. I mean mine.” Behind Jordan, Annie bit her lip, and gave her friend a silent plea to contain herself.

“I must see to my other guests,” Jordan said at length after they’d discussed a variety of perfectly respectable topics, “but I do hope you will honor me with a dance later, Miss Birmingham.”

Frances looked as if she’d swallowed moonlight and Mrs. Birmingham looked positively charmed too.

“Why, yes. Yes. Yes!” Frances replied. “Yes.”

Jordan chuckled, bowed, and strode away into the crowd while Frances frantically clutched at Annie’s sleeves. “Oh my goodness. I’ve made such a ninny of myself that that gorgeous man is sure never to return.”

Annie laughed. “Don’t worry. He’s quite unpretentious, actually.”

“I cannot believe that,” Frances replied. “I don’t want to believe that. Now, tell me, what on earth have the two of you been doing out here in the country together? I nearly fell over when I received the invitation to this ball.”

Mrs. Birmingham excused herself to greet some friends and Annie pulled Frances into the corner. “As you know from my letters, Jordan decided to
invite
me out here to keep me from trouble in the city.”

Frances pressed her hand against her chest. “You’re calling him Jordan now? Never mind. Go on.”

“He brought his brothers out here one by one to meet me, thinking they might take a fancy to me.”

“My goodness, that man is a dream.”

Annie shook her head. “Suffice it to say not a one of them offered for me, so Jordan decided to host this ball.”

“And what of Arthur?” Frances asked. “I haven’t seen him tonight. Is he here?”

“He wasn’t invited,” Annie replied, lifting her chin. “Though I suspect Jordan’s threat to beat him last time they met might have kept him from coming even if I had invited him.”

“Lord Ashbourne threatened to beat Arthur?” Frances’s eyes were wide. “Oh my goodness, don’t just stand there, tell me more.”

Annie laughed and explained the meeting with Lord Medford and the plans for the ball. By the time she finished, Frances looked as if she might swoon.

“Oh my goodness. I can hardly believe it. Oh, Anne, all the best things happen to you. I’ve spent the last fortnight trying to get my little brother to give me back one of the feathers he plucked from my favorite bonnet. He’s been using it to play pirate in the library. And here you are being abducted by the most handsome man in London and having a ball hosted in your honor. It’s completely unfair, I tell you. By the by, I’ve also spent the last two weeks trying to learn the story of what happened to Lord Ashbourne years ago with very little success. I’m convinced I’m just not asking the right people. It’s most disconcerting.”

Annie tapped her cheek with a finger. “Hmm. I’ve had little success on that score as well. We’ll just have to keep looking. There must be someone who was around at the time and would be willing to share the scandal.”

Frances clutched Annie’s sleeve and nodded to the entryway of the ballroom. “Annie,” she murmured. “I believe we’ve just found her.”

CHAPTER 31

When Catherine Woodbury, Lady Eversly, strode into the ballroom, half the male population turned to stare. Annie and Frances were still huddled in the corner discussing Arthur’s defection when Catherine made her way directly over to them.

“Good evening, Miss Andrews. I hear you are to thank for this little party. Jordan hasn’t had guests out to Ashbourne Manor in an age. Fancy that an innocent could get him to open his doors once again.”

Annie gave the woman a guarded smile. She remembered how Lily had described the beautiful blond woman’s casual repartee with Jordan at the Atkinsons’ house party last spring. Lady Eversly was married, but it obviously didn’t stop her from outrageously flirting with Devon, Jordan, or any other good-looking man who crossed her path.

“It was exceedingly kind of Lord Ashbourne to hold this ball,” Annie replied.

“I see the rumors are false,” Lady Catherine continued, her sky-blue eyes narrowing to slits. “All of London’s been whispering about how you and Arthur Eggleston are about to declare your engagement, but I don’t even see Arthur here tonight.”

Annie pushed up her chin and shrugged. “I’ve no idea where Arthur Eggleston is and, frankly, I don’t care.”

“Excellent attitude, my dear,” Lady Catherine said with a catlike smile.

Frances seemed in awe of the woman. She stared at her gorgeous white-blond hair and crystal-blue eyes.

Catherine arched a brow. “Miss Birmingham, may I help you with something?”

“You’re just so … pretty,” Frances breathed.

Lady Catherine touched her hair and an eyebrow with one long elegant finger. “Yes, dear, but to be honest it’s often a burden.”

Annie elbowed Frances, who responded with an “oomph.”

“You and Jordan make a beautiful pair,” Lady Catherine continued, directing her gaze at Annie.

Annie sucked in her breath. “Lord Ashbourne has been very kind to me,” she managed to reply.

“Yes, well, Jordan and I go so far back. I just wanted to stop by and tell you what a feat it is for you to have persuaded him to throw a ball.”

Annie’s spine tightened every time that woman called him Jordan. Lady Catherine turned to leave.

“How far back?” The words flew from Annie’s mouth before she had a chance to stop them.

Catherine turned around again. “Pardon?”

This time Frances elbowed Annie. But Annie ignored her friend. “Exactly how far back do you and Lord Ashbourne go?” She couldn’t lose her chance at finally finding out the truth about her enigmatic host.