Secrets of a Runaway Bride (6 page)

She refused to think about the little shiver that went through her earlier in the coach when he had called her “my dear Miss Andrews.” And very well, she
had
noticed those eyes. Even in the dark of the coach, they shone like silver.

Frances shook her head. “No, Anne.
I’m
pretty at best. You’re absolutely gorgeous, only you don’t know it because your sister just happens to be one of the most beautiful women in the country. Compared to me, however, you are a goddess.”

Annie squeezed her friend’s hand. Frances was such a dear. The two of them had had this conversation scores of times and it always ended the same way. Annie knew—
knew
—it wasn’t true, but it was exceedingly kind of her friend to try to tell her how beautiful she was.

“I’m no goddess,” she whispered. She was catapulted back in time to being fourteen years old again at her parents’ country estate. “You’ll just have to be witty, Annie,” her father had said, “because you won’t catch a husband with
your
looks.” It was one of many careless statements her father had made through the years and Lily, like Frances, had spent hours trying to tell her how untrue it was, but Annie knew they had merely been trying to make her feel better. She wasn’t pretty. That was a fact. All the more reason that Arthur was the right man for her. Arthur saw something in her other men didn’t, couldn’t.

Frances snapped open her fan again, shaking Annie from her reverie. “Before you argue with me,” Frances continued, “I would simply like to point out that Lord Ashbourne came here with you tonight, didn’t he? And if you’re
normal-looking,
then perhaps there’s hope for me.” Laughing, Frances dropped her fan back inside her reticule. “Besides, careful what you say about Lord Ashbourne, Miss Andrews. Your sister wouldn’t approve.”

Annie smoothed her pink skirts. “That’s just it. I thought I was going to a have a reprieve from Lily’s meddling while she was gone on her honeymoon. Instead, she’s left her stand-in in the form of the meddlesome Lord Ashbourne.”

“The charming and dashing Lord Ashbourne,” Frances corrected, clearing her throat.

Annie tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “If you had heard how rude he was to me in the coach, you wouldn’t think he was nearly so charming or dashing. Besides, Arthur is a man who looks real. Lord Ashbourne looks like he’s been chiseled from stone.”

Frances bit her lip and averted her eyes. “Ah yes, dear, of course Mr. Eggleston is a fine-looking man.”

Annie nodded approvingly.

“But he’s no Lord Ashbourne,” Frances finished, causing Annie to narrow her eyes at her friend.

“I don’t expect you to understand, Frances. But my affections for Arthur go much deeper than mere looks.”

“As do my affections for Lord Ashbourne,” Frances insisted. “He’s witty, rich, intelligent, immensely popular, a gifted horseman, bowman, and shot. There are many things to like about him. The fact that he looks like Adonis has very little to do with it, really.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “So what? Arthur went to Oxford.”

“Ashbourne went to Cambridge.”

“Arthur stands to inherit a decent income when he turns twenty-five.”

“Ashbourne is already an earl, for heaven’s sake, and one of the wealthiest men in London.”

Annie tossed up her hands. “What is your point, Frances? They are two very different men.”

“My point is merely that Mr. Eggleston is a perfectly respectable chap. But oh, my dear, he doesn’t make one want to swoon the way Lord Ashbourne does.”

Annie pushed up her chin. “Swooning is quite overrated.”

“Have you tried it?”

Annie gasped. “I have not. And I have no intention of it. Now let’s desist in this silly conversation and discuss more important matters. Like how shall I make Arthur stop talking to his sister and ask me to dance? I only have three weeks left to get him to ask me to marry him.” She nodded across the ballroom to where she had spied Arthur standing in a small group of people, including his older sister.

“It’s a shame his sister hasn’t married yet,” Frances whispered. “I think it’s her nose, poor thing. Though it may very well be the chin…” Frances rubbed her own chin and shook her head.

Annie stifled a horrified laugh. “That is just ridiculous. No doubt she hasn’t found the right chap yet. That is all. I’m sure she’s a lovely young woman. I’ve yet to make her acquaintance but—”

Frances clutched at Annie’s arm. “He hasn’t introduced you to his sister?”

“No. Not yet. Perhaps tonight—”

“May I ask you something?” Frances said, reaching for her discarded glass of punch.

“Yes?”

“If I find a way to get Mr. Eggleston to ask you to dance, will you introduce me to Lord Ashbourne?” She winked at Annie.

“Oh, Frances, no. I just can’t stand it. I don’t want you to meet Lord Ashbourne. I can barely tolerate him myself. Now, come with me.”

Frances in tow, Annie took off across the ballroom, headed toward the group in which Arthur stood.

She and Frances waited on the outskirts a bit too long, hoping to be included. Annie glanced over and briefly made eye contact with Lord Ashbourne, who stood in the midst of a giggling group of overly anxious young women, a mocking grin on his perfect face. She longed to slap it off. He held up his glass in a silent salute to her and Annie suddenly felt like a fool waiting for Arthur’s attention as if she were standing in a queue.

She glanced away from Lord Ashbourne and swallowed, nearly ready to turn and leave, when Arthur’s timid sister, a pale, yellow-haired girl with the most unfortunate (ahem, Frances was right) nose and chin Annie had ever seen, cleared her throat and tugged on her brother’s sleeve.

Arthur looked up at his sister’s urging and glanced at Annie. A surprised smile lit his face. “Ah, Miss Andrews, so good to see you. And Miss Birmingham,” he said, bowing to Frances, “always a pleasure.”

Annie and Frances murmured their greetings and Arthur turned to introduce them to his sister. “My sister, Miss Theodosia Eggleston. Theodosia, Miss Anne Andrews and Miss Frances Birmingham.”

Ah, he’d finally introduced her to his sister. Annie gave Frances a triumphant smile and greeted Miss Eggleston, who murmured something pleasant. They lingered for a bit, talking about inconsequential matters, before Miss Eggleston declared that she was in need of some air. Wouldn’t Arthur take her nearer to a window in order to obtain it?

Soon after the two siblings left, the rest of the group dispersed, and Annie and Frances were left standing alone again.

“I cannot believe he didn’t ask you to dance,” Frances said. “Especially when you so obviously wanted him to.”

Annie shook her head. “It’s his sister. I know it. He feels such an obligation to see to her. She’s not well. I have no idea how I’ll ever get him to come up to scratch if she continues to remain unattached.”

“It certainly seems to be a problem, doesn’t it?” Frances replied, biting her lip. “What can we do?”

A flash of black slid past, and Annie glanced up to see Jordan Holloway making his way across the room. Frances clutched at Annie’s arm like a crab frantically snapping its pincer.

“Seems you’ve lost your Mr. Eggleston,” Lord Ashbourne drawled, not breaking his stride.

CHAPTER 6

It was nearly two hours and four glasses of tepid punch later before Annie was finally able to locate Arthur without his sister at his side. Apparently Miss Eggleston had gone to the ladies’ retiring room.

“It’s about time,” Annie breathed, handing her glass to Frances. “Please hold this while I go speak with him.”

“What do you intend to say?” Frances called after her.

Annie tossed a quick wink in her friend’s direction. “I’ll think of something.”

She made her way over to Arthur, who stood alone near the sidelines of the dancing, a pleasant look on his face. “Arthur, there you are.”

Arthur glanced up; his smile did not falter. “Anne. How have you been enjoying the evening? Where is Lord Ashbourne?”

Ugh. Why did Arthur have to mention that man’s name? “He’s here … somewhere.” She kept the smile pinned to her face. “And I’ve been enjoying the evening very well but would like it ever so much more if I were dancing.”

Arthur’s face turned into a scowl. “Won’t Lord Ashbourne ask you to dance?”

Annie ground her teeth. She leaned in closer. “Arthur,” she whispered. “I was hoping
you
would ask me to dance.”

A brief flash of surprise registered on Arthur’s smooth face before he replied, “Anne, you know I should like that very much, but I don’t think it would be very prudent.”

Instinctively, she took a step back. “Why not?”

He cleared his throat, then lowered his voice. “I had words with Lord Ashbourne earlier and he … he rather implied that you and I shouldn’t … that I…”

Annie’s face heated. She clenched her teeth. “Arthur,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Lord Ashbourne does not choose my dance partners and I—” Annie caught sight of Miss Eggleston making her way back toward her brother from the retiring room. She didn’t have much time. Only a matter of seconds. “Arthur,” she whispered. “I must speak with you, alone. Meet me downstairs in the gardens. In ten minutes.”

Arthur started to shake his head but Annie wouldn’t allow him to speak. “I’ll be waiting, please,” she said, just before she flew away. She nodded to Miss Eggleston on her way out the door.

*   *   *

Fifteen long minutes passed while Annie waited outside in the gardens. It was easy enough to elude Aunt Clarissa. The woman could barely see beyond five paces in front of her face. If Annie insisted she was off dancing, Aunt Clarissa smiled and nodded and raised another glass of wine.

Annie wrung her hands. But where was Arthur? She’d nearly convinced herself that he wasn’t coming when the French doors finally opened. Through a shaft of moonlight she could see his handsome face, blond hair, and sky-blue eyes.

“Anne,” he called softly from the terrace. “Anne.”

“Over here, Arthur,” she called back from her refuge behind a large, flowering bush.

Arthur strode toward her and captured her hands when he found her. “I’m sorry I’m late. It was difficult to get away.”

Annie nodded. “I understand.”

“I cannot stay long, Anne. What if someone sees us? And I must be getting back to my sister.”

Annie resisted the urge to shake him. “Arthur, I’ve barely spoken to you all evening. You cannot spare a few moments for me?”

“Yes, of course,” he said, covering her hand again with his. “I’m here.”

Annie took a deep breath. She’d carefully considered what she would say. Desperate times called for desperate measures and all that. She would come right out with it. “Do you want to marry me, Arthur?”

Arthur squeezed her hand again and gulped. He looked genuinely shocked. “Of course I do, Anne.”

“Then why have you not offered for me?”

Arthur turned away and shoved his fingers through his hair. “Ever since we tried to run off to Gretna Green, my father’s been very disappointed in me. He says I should take time to consider my behavior carefully and I tend to agree. There’s no rush, is there?”

Annie’s throat tightened “But you said your father had got over his doubts about me.”

Arthur faced her again. “He was worried about your lack of dowry before, that’s true. But he knows you have a large dowry now that your sister has married Lord Colton. Now that everyone knows Lord Colton is so wealthy.”

Annie scanned Arthur’s face. “Then what’s the problem?”

He nodded. “Father doesn’t think it’s a good idea to rush into anything. A marriage, that is. And you know as well as I, it’s not just my father who stands between us. After what happened on the road to Gretna, I know Lord Colton has his doubts about me. Then there’s the matter of my sister. She needs me right now. I must look after her.”

Annie took two steps toward him. She wanted to reach for him but checked the impulse. She threaded her fingers together instead. “Don’t you love me, Arthur?”

“Of course I do, Anne, but if we’re to marry, what does it matter if it’s this year or next?”

Annie shook her head. “What does it matter?” she repeated brokenly. “I want a marriage, children. Those are the most important things to me, Arthur. I thought you wanted those same things too.” She put her hand on his shoulder, and when he looked down, she searched his face.

Arthur must have heard the pain in her voice. He reached over and squeezed the hand that rested on his shoulder. “Oh, Anne, it is. And I do. I promise. I’ll speak to my father again. I’ll convince him. Don’t worry.”

“And I’ll see to Lord Colton,” she promised with a nod.

“It will be all right, Anne. You’ll see.” Arthur pulled her into his arms. “Besides, it seems I may have some competition in Lord Ashbourne.”

Annie couldn’t help her unladylike snort. “Lord Ashbourne?”

“Yes. First I find you in his arms on my back porch and tonight he told me in no uncertain terms to stay away from you.”

“Oh, that, it’s just that—” Annie stopped herself. A slow smile dawned across her face. She could tell Arthur that Lord Ashbourne was merely carrying out a favor to her sister and Lord Colton, or she could let him think he did indeed have competition. Just what he might need, in fact. What was the harm?

“Are you jealous?” she asked, a catlike smile pinned to her face.

“Should I be?” Arthur pulled her even closer and a shot of happiness spread through her limbs. Oh, he
was
jealous. Perfect.

Annie tilted up her chin to look into his eyes. She searched his face. This was it. The perfect opportunity. Finally. “Oh, Arthur, kiss me, please.”

Arthur gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Looking very earnest, he blinked several times.

Annie closed her eyes and leaned up on her tiptoes. He was going to do it. Arthur Eggleston was going to kiss her. She sucked in her breath. She tilted her chin. She puckered her lips. Oh yes, this would be her very first kiss from her one true love.

“Now
this
I do hate to interrupt,” a cocky male voice intruded. “But I’d hardly be doing my duty as a chaperone if I did not.”