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Authors: Virginia Henley

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BOOK: Lord Rakehell
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“Oh dear, Queen Victoria must thoroughly disapprove of her.”

“Lord Cowper died just as Victoria ascended the throne, and I very much doubt if anyone was indelicate enough to discuss Viscount Palmerston's scandalous past with the unwed queen.”

The Prince of Wales took Princess Alexandra's hand and with their attendants following closely behind, Edward led the way to the dining room. Prime Minister Palmerston and his wife were seated close by, as were the royal couple's attendants. The rest of the guests chose their own seats and were free to ignore the rigid pecking order that prevailed at court functions.

Princess Alix sat between her husband and James Hamilton. Anne took her seat between James and Charles Carrington. Frances took the chair beside Carrington and was thrilled to bits when Blandford Churchill sat down beside her.

Anne glanced down the table and saw John Claud glowering at her because she was sitting next to James. But she was glad to see that Caroline Chandos had managed to secure the place beside him.

Prince Teddy's attention was focused on food rather than conversation when he dined, and James smoothly filled in, entertaining Alix with amusing anecdotes. Finally, he looked at Anne, and his glance lingered on the lily in her hair; then he smiled into her eyes. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

Her green eyes sparkled. “I am particularly partial to lilies.”

“Your brother-in-law Fane has invited the royal couple to stay at Apethorpe Hall for the Newmarket race in May. It will be a reunion for us,” he teased.

“If I decide to go.”

“Your sister will beg you to help her entertain the Princess of Wales.”

“The Countess of Westmorland is my
half
sister.”

“Then meet her halfway. . . . Meet
me
halfway.”

James signaled a footman. “Princess Alexandra prefers champagne to claret.”

Alix smiled up at him. “Thank you, James.”

When the server returned with champagne, he said, “Lady Anne also.”

Anne took a sip and laughed when the effervescent bubbles tickled her nose. “Will you buy me champagne again in Newmarket?”

“It would give me the greatest pleasure in the world.”

She gave him a mischievous glance. “Lady Anne also.”

By the end of the meal the guests were openly remarking on the excellent quality of the food, and the great variety of dishes to choose from. Word spread that the Prince of Wales had engaged the services of a renowned French chef, and most decided that all future invitations would be eagerly anticipated.

New customs were begun. Rather than the ladies retiring while the men stayed behind to drink and smoke, all left the dining room together. There was a staircase just for guests that led to rooms where they could refresh themselves.

The orchestra began to play and the music lured the ladies to the ballroom. Most of the men, including the Prince of Wales, followed reluctantly, knowing that after a token dance or two they could escape to the commodious gaming room, where brandy and cigars would accompany the high-stakes card games. If they were lucky, illegal baccarat
would be included, and the main topic of conversation could return to horses, racing, and wagering.

Prince Edward dutifully led out Princess Alexandra in the first dance. The orchestra had been instructed to play a waltz, and to make it short. Then the dancers were invited to choose their partners for the new, popular promenade.

Anne's attention was drawn to the prince. Edith, Countess Aylesford, was standing on her toes, whispering in Prince Teddy's ear.
The brazen hussy is making a play for him! I hope Alexandra doesn't see the intimate byplay.

Suddenly she heard John Claud cough. “How on earth did you manage to be standing opposite me when the music stopped?”

“Would you believe it was random chance?”

“Not for a moment. You are an expert at manipulation.”

“Your compliments go to my head.” He held out his arms and she moved into them. “I'm leaving for Ireland, day after tomorrow.”

“I hadn't forgotten, John Claud. I sincerely hope you win your campaign.”

“You are dancing with the next member of Parliament for Londonderry.”

Anne smiled. “I'm glad that you are confident.”

He drew her closer. “That's not the only thing I'm confident about.”

Anne knew he was once again hinting at a proposal of marriage, and deftly changed the subject. “John Claud, will you do me a great favor? Princess Alexandra wants the dancing to be a success. When Prince Teddy leaves, please don't desert us for the gaming room?”

“I would never desert you, Anne.” His arms tightened.

“That's what I'm afraid of,” she said lightly. “The prince can count on his gentlemen to partner Princess Alix, but it would be most gallant if you invited her to dance.”

“That's a misnomer; Teddy's gentlemen are not
gentlemen
—they are predators. I shall consider it an honor to partner the Princess of Wales, and a solemn duty to dance with the prime minister's wife.”

Her eyes glittered. “You devious devil. You are already planning to curry favor for when you become a member of Parliament.”

“I've had excellent teachers. Both my father and my brother have cultivated friendships in high places.”

“You've cultivated a friendship with my father too, but I'm on to your tricks,” she warned.

Anne wasn't on to all of them, however. John Claud partnered her half sister Adelaide. “I am paying court to Lady Anne, and I'm most fortunate that your father, Lord Howe, looks favorably on the match. Once I have secured my seat in Parliament, I intend to ask him for her hand in marriage.”

“Anne is a particular favorite of the Princess of Wales. My husband has invited the royal couple to spend the weekend at Apethorpe Hall for the opening of Newmarket.”

Hellfire! Anne and James will be thrown together again. I'll have to put a spoke in his wheel, or he will beat me to the prize.

When the dance ended, John Claud returned Adelaide to her husband. As the couple danced, he saw that they were discussing him, so he once more asked Anne to waltz. A short time later when he saw Fane depart the ballroom, he caught up to him. “Lord Westmorland, do you have a horse entered in the Guinea Stakes at Newmarket?”

“Absolutely, my boy. I'm running Eau de Vie.
The Prince of Wales is coming. Will you be there?”

“Unfortunately, no. Day after tomorrow I leave to campaign in Ireland. But my brother will no doubt accompany His Highness.” John Claud hesitated. “A word to the wise, your lordship. James is a bit of a rogue with the ladies. Your young sister-in-law Lady Anne would benefit from your protection.”

“Ah, I understand you are courting Anne. No need to worry, my boy. I already put a flea in her ear about the young rakehell.”

When John Claud returned to the ballroom, he was chagrined to see James dancing with Anne. Still, he took solace in the thought that Adelaide would inform everyone in the Curzon-Howe family that he was paying court to her sister Anne, with the intention of asking for her hand in marriage.

He spied Caroline Chandos talking with Fitz Kerry, walked a direct path to her, and asked her to dance. It gave him twofold satisfaction—it was a thumb in the eye to Kerry, and showed Anne that she had competition for his attention.

When the dance ended, he bowed his thanks to Caroline, and swept his gaze about the ballroom searching for Anne and James.
Where the devil are they?
He guessed that his brother had gone down to the gaming room. When he saw that his sister Frances was also missing, he assumed that she and Anne had gone to powder their noses. John Claud was mistaken on both counts.

•   •   •

Before the dance had ended, James suggested to Anne that they get some fresh air. Before she had a chance to decline, he took her hand and led her into a chamber that adjoined the ballroom. He opened French doors and guided her out onto a stone balcony.

“James, you know where all the secluded nooks lie hidden.”

“It's a beautiful night. It would be a shame to waste it.”

She tipped her head back to gaze at the night sky. “The stars are like glittering diamonds scattered on black velvet.”

“Exquisite.” James was gazing at Anne. He took the flower from above her ear and tucked it into the décolletage between her breasts. Then he threaded his fingers into her red-gold hair and brought her face close. His lips brushed hers softly; then his mouth took hers in a long, deep, lingering kiss.

When their lips finally parted, Anne shivered at the intimate closeness, and James slipped off his evening jacket, wrapped it about her shoulders, then pulled her against him. “I'll keep you warm, sweetheart.”

She gazed up into his eyes. “I'm not cold, James.”
I'm on fire.

James knew his feelings for Anne were unique. She stirred his emotions, and touched something deep inside him, a secret place within, where he had never allowed any woman before. When he was alone, she filled his thoughts, and his fantasies always left him with a longing that made his heart ache.

“Anne, my feelings for you are so special. You never fail to delight me, and when we are apart, you linger in my thoughts.” His hands cupped her face; then his lips sought hers again in a kiss so tender it touched her heart.

James, I've thought about you that way for years, since the very first time we met.
She stood on tiptoe and threaded her arms about his neck, bringing her body close to his in an intimate embrace.

When the kiss ended, Anne whispered, “I must go, James. I'm supposed to be attending the princess tonight.” Her mouth curved softly. “Perhaps I'll see you in my dreams.”
I'm not the naive girl I used to be.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and none know that better than I.

An hour later Anne saw James laughing with a young, flirtatious female who was also extremely pretty. “Frances, who's the young lady talking with your brother?”

“That's Sarah Moncreiffe—she's Scottish, recently married to Sir Charles Mordaunt, who sits in the Commons with James. Females throw themselves at my brother; his conquests are legion.”

“Perhaps it's not
absence
, but
presence
, that makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Or the cock harder,” Frances jested outrageously.

•   •   •

On Monday morning, Anne and Frances took breakfast with the princess, and Anne saw that Alexandra was perfectly at ease with James Hamilton's sister. She searched her mind for a way she could excuse herself for a couple of hours without arousing suspicion about her absence.

“Frances, if you will attend the princess this morning, it will give me a chance to confer with the sewing women about the fashions I've designed for Her Highness.”

Alix smiled. “Thank you, Anne, for giving us an opportunity to get to know each other.” She turned to Frances. “Is it true that your mother had the courage to turn down Queen Victoria when she was offered the royal post of Mistress of the Robes?”

Anne left St. James's Park and walked briskly up St. James's Street to Piccadilly. She crossed and continued until she reached Jermyn Street. She turned the corner, walked past a couple of town houses, and knew she would have to make inquiries. She gathered her courage, walked up the steps to the third house, and lifted the brass knocker. When a female servant opened the door, Anne said, “I'm sorry to trouble you, ma'am, but I'm looking for a gentleman by the name of Leicester Curzon-Howe. He leases a house on Jermyn Street, but I've forgotten the number.”

The woman drew her brows together. “I don't know anyone by that name. I'm the housekeeper here, and this place is leased by Viscount Linsey. I'm sorry I can't help you.”

Anne's heart sank. “Oh dear, he's been posted to Ireland and I was hoping to see him before he left.”

“Ah, he's a military man, I take it.”

“Yes, he's an officer in Prince Albert's Rifle Brigade.”

“Oh, he must be the handsome officer in the dashing green uniform.”

“Yes, yes, that's him.”

“He lives across the street at number twenty-six. He's a treat to the eyes, that one. Every time I see him, I go weak in the knees.”

“Thank you so much. You've been very helpful.”

The woman looked her up and down. “Are you his ladylove?”

“No, no, he is a relative.”

“Ah, pity,” she said with a shrug, and closed the door.

Pity indeed,
Anne thought.

She crossed the road and knocked on the door of number 26 before she lost her courage. It was opened by a manservant, and when she told him she was there to see her brother, he let her in and went upstairs to announce her.

Leicester greeted her warmly. “Anne, this is an unexpected pleasure. Come into the sitting room and we'll have some coffee.”

“Unexpected perhaps, but hardly a pleasure,” she said curtly.

He indicated a comfortable chair. “Please sit down. Tell me what's wrong. I can clearly see you are upset.”

Suddenly, Anne's knees went weak and she sank down into the chair. “I know about you and Mother. I know that Montagu is your son.”

“Oh my dear, no wonder you are upset.” He knelt before her. “Your mother and I were deeply in love. We planned to elope, but suddenly I was posted abroad, and a quick marriage was arranged for your mother by Queen Adelaide.”

“Yes, Mother told me.” Anne's heart was pounding as she braced herself for her next question. “For my own peace of mind I need to know, are you also
my
father?”

Leicester stared at her for long moments; then he took her hand. “My dearest Anne, I would never do or say anything that would ruin your peace of mind, or hurt you in any way. I could not possibly be your father. My love affair with your mother ended over twenty years ago when she married.”

BOOK: Lord Rakehell
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