First Season / Bride to Be (14 page)

This was equally astonishing. She had never thought of kissing Christopher, but now his touch seemed to set her on fire. She had never felt anything like it. Her hands moved of their own volition to caress his upper arms, his shoulders, and to tighten about his neck. She felt his lean strength along the length of her body and was acutely aware of every contact. She felt no languor, as she had with Norbury; every part of her seemed newly alive and singing with energy.

At last, reluctantly, Hanford drew back. He had felt Anabel's response, and it had filled him with joy and redoubled ardor. But, inevitably, other concerns intruded. He could not wholly forget that she was promised to another man.

Anabel took two trembling breaths and moved away. She could not assimilate this change quickly after the day she had had. Her familiar world had turned upside down. “I…” She swallowed. “Where did you find them?”

“On the road home, as I suspected. They were indignant when they saw that Susan was with me.”

“With you?” Anabel thought that perhaps her brain was not working properly. His words made no sense to her.

“Yes.” He frowned. “Didn't Georgina tell you?”

“Georgina?” She was completely lost.

“She promised to…never mind. Susan came to my sister's house this afternoon…or yesterday it is now. She informed me that she was running away and I was to help her.” He smiled slightly. “Naturally I brought her back, but by the time we arrived the boys had already departed in search of their sister. They concluded that she was going home and took that road. I guessed and followed in my traveling carriage, coming up with them some hours later.” He shook his head. “They were very resourceful; they had convinced a carter to give them a ride. Susan insisted upon coming along when I would have left her here. But I told Georgina my plan.” He stepped forward and took her icy hands in his warm ones. “Didn't she tell you?”

“No!” Anabel considered. “That is, she may have tried. I was very worried.”

“Poor Anabel.” He made as if to embrace her again, but she drew away.

“I… Thank you!”

He shrugged, dismissing her thanks, and waited. He would not force her into any declaration, but neither was he willing to help her avoid the issue. Her response to him had been unmistakable; she would have to say something.

For her part, Anabel did not know what to do. A great many things were coming clear to her, and others clamored for her attention. It was obvious that she had made a complete mull of things so far. She did not want to compound her mistakes. But when she looked into Christopher's eyes, she could think of nothing but him. “I…I'm exhausted,” she said, gazing at the floor. “And I must see that the children are all right. Will you…will you come to call tomorrow, so that I may thank you properly?”

What did she mean by “properly”? he wondered. But he could only agree. She did look tired. “Of course.” He hesitated, hoping she would speak again, then turned and went slowly out. Anabel collapsed on the sofa and sat very still, listening to the front door open and shut and the sound of his carriage driving away.

She didn't go up to the children. She remained where she was, her body motionless but her mind racing. Everything that had happened to her in the last three months had suddenly taken on a new significance. It was as if with one small shift in her outlook, all those events had changed, so that she had to review each one and alter her ideas about it. Christopher had been the center of her life for some time, she saw now; it was only when he had left to go abroad that she had felt restless at home. Her feelings for him had been growing deeper and stronger for years. Why she had not seen it before she did not know. Perhaps the easy gradualness of the process had disguised it. They had been so in harmony and so content with each other that she had never before had occasion to draw back and examine the situation. She had taken him wholly for granted, not pausing to think how fortunate she was to have him always near.

And when he had gone, she was hurt and lonely, she saw now. But she had hidden the knowledge from herself and come up to London, like a fool. She had been no better than a green schoolgirl, awed by new sights and swept into a mistaken engagement. Sir Charles had dazzled her, but he had never touched her heart as Christopher did. Anabel bowed her head on the sofa arm and sighed. How could she have been so stupid? She had thought Sir Charles exciting; he had appealed to her vanity and her pride. But Christopher's kiss tonight had shown her the emptiness of that attraction. Christopher's touch had set her afire with longing; Charles merely induced surrender.

Anabel rose and walked about the room, frowning. She did not even see her mother look in at the door, watch her face for a moment, and then retreat. She was trying to understand her failure and to sort out her feelings so that she could think what to do.

The night was almost over. Outside, the sky was lightening with the first pale hues of dawn, and muted sounds from below indicated that the servants were stirring. But Anabel was aware of nothing but her own inner turmoil. Though exhausted by the emotions of the past day, she did not think of sleep.

When the sun had appeared over the horizon and the scent of breakfast was rising from the kitchen, she was suddenly distracted by the sound of running footsteps on the stairs, and in the next moment Georgina hurtled into the drawing room, still wearing the gown of the night before and looking wild-eyed and crumpled. “Oh, Anabel,” she gasped. “I fell asleep. I meant to come back down in a few minutes and speak to you. I do beg your pardon. I was to tell you—”

“I know,” she replied. “Christopher told me when he brought back the children.”

“He
did
, then? I mean, of course I knew he would, but I wasn't certain when they would arrive.”

Anabel merely nodded. She still felt far away.

“Mr. Hanford is wonderful!” exclaimed the girl. “He knew at once where they had gone, and I suppose he found them without the least trouble. How I wish I had been here when he came back.”

Anabel looked at her, and she flushed, then raised her chin. “You admire him very much, don't you?” said Anabel.

“Yes.” Georgina sounded defiant.

“Why did you not tell me at once what he was doing?”

“I tried! But no one would listen. And when you began abusing him, I…”

She trailed off, feeling guiltily conscious that she had no real excuse.

“Abusing Christopher? I?”

“Well, you were saying that he didn't care, and ranking him below Si—” She stopped herself before saying Norbury's name.

Anabel didn't recall her words, but she had no doubt Georgina was right. “Oh, Georgina—I was very worried. I didn't mean what I said.”

“No.” Georgina hung her head. “I know. I…I beg your pardon, Anabel. I was very stupid.”

Her cousin sighed, gazing at the fireplace. “Not so much as I,” she murmured.

“What?”

“Never mind, Georgina. It doesn't matter now. The children are safe, and all is well.” At least with them, she added to herself.

Georgina eyed her, sensing a difference. “Did you sleep at all?”

“No, I couldn't.”

“You should go up now and rest this morning.”

Anabel shook her head; she was far too restless still. “The day is beginning. I can sleep tonight. Why don't we go down and have some breakfast? I believe it is ready.” She suddenly realized that she was extremely hungry. “Did you have any dinner last night?”

“I… No.” Georgina seemed surprised.

“Well, then.” With an attempt at a smile, Anabel linked her arm with her cousin's.

“Should we change first?” asked the girl, looking from her own crumpled gown to Anabel's creased traveling dress.

“We can do so when we have eaten,” declared the other, urging her forward, and they walked down to the breakfast parlor together.

Lady Goring found them there twenty minutes later, surrounded by the remains of a substantial breakfast. “Oh, Mama,” said Anabel. “Did the children fall asleep at once? I must go up to them. I would have come last night, but…” She hesitated.

“They were asleep almost before I put them to bed, and they are still sleeping now. I asked Nurse on my way down.” She looked from one to the other. “What of you?”

“I fell asleep in my gown,” replied Georgina sheepishly. She rose. “I must go and change it.”

Lady Goring looked at her daughter as Georgina went out. “And you, Anabel?”

“I had too much to think about.”

“Indeed?” She surveyed her closely.

“Yes.”

She did not explain, and Lady Goring did not press her, despite her curiosity about what had passed between her daughter and Hanford the previous night. It was obvious that
something
had, but she decided it would be best to wait and let it develop.

“I must change also,” added Anabel, pushing back her chair. “I will look in on the children when I am dressed.”

Lady Goring nodded and reached for the teapot.

But as Anabel was ascending the stairs the bell rang and a footman went to the door. She lingered on the landing, wondering if it could be Christopher so early. But the voice that drifted up to her was that of Sir Charles Norbury, calm and confident of his welcome. He had stepped inside and seen her before Anabel could move. “Ah. There you are,” he added, striding quickly up to her. He glanced at her dress. “Are the children not back, then?”

“Yes. They are here.” Her lips felt strange, almost stiff.

“As I foretold,” he responded, taking her arm and guiding her into the drawing room. “I was right, you see.”

This was too much. “My friend Christopher Hanford
brought
them back,” she retorted, “after searching for them for most of the night!”

“Indeed?” Norbury's chiseled mouth turned down. “How very, er, enterprising of him. What led him to take this task upon himself?”

“
He
was worried about the children!” As you were not, her tone implied.

“The children, of course,” he sneered. “How very touching.”

Anabel gazed at him with new eyes. Had Norbury been sympathetic and understanding this morning, as he had not last night, her new viewpoint might have wavered. As it was, she wondered how she could have ever thought she wanted to marry him. Gazing at his fawn pantaloons, his superbly tailored blue coat, and his gleaming Hessians, worn with such assurance and so perfectly complementing his dark, hawklike face, she admitted to herself that his appearance certainly encouraged infatuation. Indeed, he had a power of personality that could overwhelm others' wills. But now that she had discovered her true feelings about Christopher, Norbury's spell was broken, and she knew she would not fall under it again.

Norbury noted the unaccustomed disapproval in her eyes. He was furious at this latest development. Not only had the children's ridiculous prank diverted Anabel from subjects infinitely more important, but now this Hanford was pushing himself forward and trying to ingratiate himself at Norbury's expense. Sir Charles was fully aware of Christopher's feelings for Anabel; the rivalry had added spice to his triumph, and Anabel's ignorance of the contest had been quite amusing. But he sensed a change now. He could not have pointed to the evidence, but a new tone in her voice told him that her opinion of Hanford, and of himself, was altered. Cooler-headed, Norbury might have been conciliating, might even have pretended to admire Hanford's initiative in finding the children, and thus have won back some of Anabel's sympathy. But he was impatient and frustrated by her refusal to plan for the future. He had determined to marry—he wanted to marry—why was she thwarting him?

“I am surprised that the heroic Mr. Hanford is not here,” he said contemptuously. “I should have expected him to dig in at the scene of his rescue.”

Anabel had her lips pressed very tightly together. She was afraid to answer him for fear of what she might say; she knew it would be disjointed and overemotional. She needed to think carefully and prepare herself to confront him; he was certain to argue, and Anabel hated disputes. “The children are safe, that is all that matters,” she answered. “Thank you for calling to inquire about them.”

“Of course.” He paused. “Shall we sit down?”

“I was just on my way upstairs.” She indicated her crumpled gown with a gesture.

“I shan't stay long.”

With a sigh, she sat. She was too tired to fight him just now.

“As your worry over the children is so happily set to rest,” he continued, “perhaps we might return to another subject—that of our wedding date.”

“And a much more important one?” she replied caustically.

“I did not say so.” He raised one dark brow.

“Your tone implied it.”

“Nonsense. You are imagining things. Now, I looked over the calendar last night, and I have chosen three days that would be suitable.” He took a slip of paper from his coat pocket and held it out to her.

Anabel was furious. While she had been sleepless, terrified about her children, Charles had been studying calendars! She did not take the paper. “I have not slept all night,” she said, rising. “I am exhausted. We can talk of this another time.”

“Surely you can spare a moment.” He rose to face her. “You seem remarkably uninterested in this subject. I should think it would be foremost in your mind.”

Anabel opened her mouth to tell him that she would never marry him, but a great wave of fatigue engulfed her. It was all too much. She could not form a rational sentence. She shook her head.

Gazing at her, Norbury was forced to admit that she did look worn. Her pallor and drooping posture touched that emotion that had led him to offer for her in the beginning. In his way, he loved her, though this had not taught him to put others' concerns before his own gratification. Slowly he returned the paper to his pocket. “I suppose we can talk tomorrow. One more day will make little difference. You should go to bed.”

Anabel merely nodded, grateful to be spared more reproaches.

“I will call in the morning again, and we can settle everything.”

Yes, thought Anabel, that will be best. I will prepare myself and tell him then. She nodded again.

Norbury summoned a smile and came toward her. When his arms slipped around her, Anabel did not protest. She could not find the energy. He pulled her close and kissed her gently. Anabel tested her sensations; she felt nothing, not even that boneless surrender he had once evoked in her.

He sensed some change and tightened his hold, kissing her again, more passionately. Anabel remained passive for a moment, then drew back. She did not exactly push him away, but the effect was the same.

“What is the matter?” he demanded, touched on one of his vainest points.

“Nothing. I am tired.”

“Indeed?” Her reaction made him angry again. Did she not realize that he had treated her with more consideration than he had any other woman in his history? He had suppressed his passions ruthlessly, and now she begrudged him even a kiss. He felt like shaking her or pushing her to the sofa and showing her precisely what she was rejecting. He was confident of his ability to change her stiffness to eager response.

The image pleased him, and he smiled a little, thinking of the future. If she remained so cool, it would be an even greater pleasure to subdue her. He imagined Anabel pleading for his caresses, and his smile widened.

She did not like his expression. Moving out of his arms, she walked toward the door. “I'm…I'm sorry. I am very tired,” she repeated.

“Of course. I will take my leave.” Following, he took her hand and held it lingeringly to his lips, his pale green eyes holding hers. Then he turned and left the room.

Anabel took a long breath, relieved. What had that strange look in his eyes meant? She had never seen it there before. Sighing, she rubbed her face. She
was
exhausted. Perhaps she should try to sleep after all. She moved toward the staircase and then paused, surprised to hear male voices from downstairs.

“Ah. The conquering hero,” said Norbury in a scathing tone.

“Sir Charles.” Anabel started. It was Christopher's voice.

“Come to enjoy Anabel's gratitude?” Norbury laughed a little. “It is something, I suppose, though I myself prefer more palpable pleasures.” His voice implied a great deal. Anabel flushed.

“I have no doubt of it,” answered Hanford, angry but controlled.

“I fear you will find the lady rather tired. In fact, I do not believe she is receiving callers.”

“Then I am sure she will tell me so,” answered Christopher. “As she has anytime these ten years.”

“Ah, yes. You are an
old
friend. Your
comfortable
relationship is admirable. Anabel hardly thinks of you as a man, I believe.” This was a clear insult, and Anabel could imagine Norbury's sardonic expression. She stepped forward to intervene.