Rogue Countess (20 page)

“And don’t forget the broken heart,” Anna added with a hopeless smile.

“Oh, yes, that too,” Leif conceded with a nod. “But what use is a heart anyway. You can manage just fine without. I have no trouble,” he finished with a characteristically jaunty grin.

“Oh, you have a heart, Leif Riley. It’s just lost beneath layers of wine-soaked silt. Someday, a very determined lady is going to dig that thing out and wash it off for a showing.”

“What a disturbing thought,” Leif muttered with a horrified look of disgust crossing his features as he settled himself back more comfortably against the pillows.

Anna laughed at his reaction and the two smiled at each other for a few moments. She was more grateful than ever to have such a friend in Leif. On impulse, she came forward out of her chair and wrapped her arms around him in a swift embrace. When he grunted in pain, she apologized and released him.

Standing, she looked down at Leif’s quizzical expression with a smile on her lips.

“You may not want to hear this, but you actually have reason to be grateful to Jude.”

“Like hell I do,” Leif retorted.

“The man who shot you came here last night to finish the job.” At Leif’s alarm she quickly explained, “Jude managed to convince him he had done enough, and he left without further bloodshed. Things could have gone very differently,” she added with a hard note of warning.

“Dammit,” Leif grumbled under his breath. “You’re right. I didn’t want to hear that.”

Anna sighed as she turned to leave the room.

“I don’t think the man will be back, but you may want to instruct Jack to be wary. Take care of yourself. I will be back again tomorrow. And try to be nice to your nurses, but not too nice.”

Chapter Sixteen

At Anna’s visit the next afternoon, Leif was already up and moving around. His charmed luck continued to hold as he escaped the development of infection.

Anna was both relieved and frustrated. She had hoped this incident would shake him up enough that he might consider making some changes in his life. But he was already muttering that he needed to heal up quick so he could get back out on the town. He would soon be on the hunt for another wealthy benefactress.

She was grateful to find the house quiet when she returned. Assuming Jude was gone for the evening, she was tempted to spend the evening at home alone with a nice dinner and a good book.

But London’s social whirl was her best opportunity to advance her business. She would need to head back to Thornwood Abby soon to oversee the breeding program. She spent much of spring, all of summer and the early part of autumn in Suffolk. So while in town, her work had to be done in the drawing rooms and ballrooms of London high society.

Tonight she had committed to attending a dinner party being hosted by Lord Terribury, winner of the last Derby. As much as she would have liked to skip it, she couldn’t ignore it was an honor to be included on the guest list. A party such as this could promote the type of social connections she needed to keep her business running for years to come.

Having the best racing stables in the country did her no good if no one knew about it. And she needed to be her own advocate against the instant discrimination that formed against her because she was a woman. It was easy for a man to be narrow-minded and chauvinistic when his target was simply an idea, and much more difficult when the female in question was staring back at him with a smile and a ready reply to every argument he may have. A little charm and a well-executed conversation were often all it took to convince a potential client to visit her stables. After that, her horseflesh and track record spoke for itself.

Terribury House, a grand old mansion, was lit up elegantly for the evening, shining like a beacon in the prestigious neighborhood along Park Lane. Anna had long ago gotten accustomed to arriving at such events without an escort. She still received curious glances and a few scathing sneers from other guests, but such things ceased to bother her. One unavoidable by-product of her bold behavior was that it stirred unfounded rumors about secret affairs. She was so rarely on a man’s arm that any time she was seen in the company of a particular gentleman, even in the most benign situations, it was assumed there must be something between them.

Tonight, however, it was immediately obvious that the stares were much more intrusive than usual. Trying to ignore the uneasiness sliding down her spine, she smiled and nodded to passing acquaintances. But when she entered the grand hall and was announced not as Mrs. Locke, but as the Countess of Blackbourne, an icy chill stiffened her limbs. The evening might prove to be more trying than any such event had been in her past.

Heads swiveled at the unexpected announcement. Anna had thought the news of Jude’s return and their long-ago marriage had already made the gossip rounds. Judging by the many expressions of shock and confusion, apparently not everyone had heard this tasty bit of news.

She was instantly surrounded by a group of ladies she had met in passing at one time or another, ladies that had never before made such an effort to seek out her company. Several agonizing minutes were spent fielding a variety of polite inquiries as the women made a fierce attempt to garner information without being overtly interrogating.

Anna answered them in short replies, efficiently getting across that they were wasting their time. She was not about to discuss her marriage with any of the gossip vultures who swarmed her entrance. The ladies faded away one by one, none of them having anything else to say once they discovered she was not going to be forthcoming with the details surrounding her name change.

Making her way slowly through the crowd, Anna resisted the urge to glare at the rudeness of some of the guests as they followed her progress with open stares and whispers. Her relief was immense when she spotted a familiar group of gentlemen standing near the refreshment table. They were fierce horse aficionados, members of that rare breed of gentlemen who had the proper equine knowledge to back up their extravagant investments on the track.

The gracious Lord Peney was one of the group, and he called to her as she approached.

“Ah, Lady Blackbourne,” he smiled and held out his hand to her. “You must come and settle this debate. I am afraid we are equally divided on the subject.”

Several gentlemen stepped aside to allow a place for Anna to join the conversation. She smiled and nodded her greetings to the others present.

“And what is the topic under discussion this evening?”

“We are discussing the developments being made across the Atlantic in Lexington. Rawley and Paxton over here seem to think the American Quarter Horse will eventually come to be as popular as the thoroughbred for racing.”

Anna smiled. These were her people.

She spent the next three-quarters of an hour debating the pros and cons of what had been going on in American horse breeding over the last few decades.

The wave of awareness that rippled through the crowd was what first alerted her to his presence. As nearly everyone else did, Anna turned toward the large arched entryway and watched as the Earl of Blackbourne descended the three steps into the large drawing room.

Lord Rutherford, a man renowned for his impeccable style, fashionable demeanor and classic attractiveness, once again accompanied him. Yet Jude stood out. The understated dignity and lack of flamboyance in his manner lent him a certain elegance without really seeming to try. The soft golden curls of his hair contrasted with his dark evening dress and framed his face in a way that emphasized the strong contours of his features and the intelligent sparkle of his blue eyes. His stride was confident without being arrogant, and his expression tonight was almost pleasant.

Despite his handsome appearance, or perhaps because of it, it was even more obvious to Anna how he managed to hold himself back from his environment. As if he were content to observe the world around him but felt no compulsion to join in. In that way, he was almost unrecognizable from the young man he had been.

Before their marriage. Before he had left his life, and her, behind.

Nearby guests struggled to divide their attention between Jude and herself. Their captivating curiosity was obvious. Tonight was threatening to turn into a marvelous spectacle.

She forced herself to breathe evenly and deeply, though her hands were sweating in her gloves and her heart felt like it had abandoned her chest and settled in her throat. The enormous ballroom was far too warm.

Just then, Jude caught sight of her through the crowd. An easy smile slid across his lips. His jewel-colored eyes were keen and bright. He made a distinct point of nodding in her direction, acknowledging her presence without being overly demonstrative. Anna’s smooth smile mirrored his as she nodded in response. The whole interaction lasted less than ten seconds, but immediately caused an eruption of whispers.

Jude turned to greet an acquaintance, ignoring the reaction of the crowd around him. Anna followed his lead and returned her attention to the small group of horse enthusiasts standing around her. She was certain her heart was beating loud enough to even draw the notice of Lord Munster, who was deaf in one ear. After only a brief hesitation and a couple curious glances, her friends quickly resumed their conversation as if nothing untoward had occurred.

At dinner, Anna and Jude were seated a significant distance down the length of the table from each other. There was no possible way for them to be involved in the same conversations.

Not that Anna was interested in the topic under discussion amongst most of the other guests.

Everyone wanted to talk about the mysterious marriage of the errant Lord Blackbourne and the unconventional Mrs. Locke. Most only put a small effort into hiding their interest from the two individuals involved. Anna was more than grateful when the gentlemen to her left struck up a conversation on the very benign subject of the proper care and restoration of old books. At least Anna was able to pretend not to notice the constant twitter going on between bent heads.

The lock had effectively been broken on her personal little Pandora’s box. After tonight, there would be no way any living soul in England could be left in the dark about the unusual relationship between the Earl and Countess of Blackbourne. Anna assured herself that the fervor of question and speculation would die down and things would return to a semblance of how things had been before Jude’s return.

They had to, she thought a bit desperately.

She tried very hard for the rest of the evening to give the impression that there was nothing amiss, that everything was completely normal. She nearly lost it, however, when the ladies withdrew to leave the men to their port.

As she passed by Jude while leaving the dining room, he turned his head and their eyes met. It was only a fleeting glance, but in that moment, she got the distinct impression he was watching her with warm concern. But then the moment passed and she was freed from the heavy atmosphere of the dining room.

What she had seen in her husband’s glance had surely been a product of the unreliable candlelight and her own growing discomfort.

With all the ladies back in the drawing room, one of the Terribury daughters started playing a lovely tune at the pianoforte. Too on edge to sit and chat, Anna stood near the window and listened to the music for a bit, hoping the flowing melody might infuse her with a sense of calm she couldn’t seem to cultivate on her own. When that didn’t work, she took a stroll around the room, exchanging short pleasantries with ladies and admiring the various
objets d’art
scattered about. It was the best she could do to appear unaffected by the curious glances persistently cast in her direction.

Once the men joined them, she would only have to stay a bit longer before she made her excuses and left. Her chance at acquiring new connections for her business was a lost cause. She was far too distracted by Jude’s presence. It took exhausting effort to simply act as if it were natural to be at a dinner party with a husband who had vowed to make her miserable.

Was that part of the plan? Had he intentionally accepted an invitation to this dinner in order to make her evening an awkward disaster?

Her mental distraction was so great she didn’t even notice the men had rejoined the women until her skin warmed in distinct awareness of a familiar presence. She glanced back in surprise and found Jude close behind her right shoulder with his face tilted toward the painting that hung on the wall before them. For an electrifying second, the moment reminded her of Marquart’s medieval gallery the night of the masquerade.

Anna quickly turned back and looked up herself, willing her heart rate back to a normal pace. Though she had been standing there for the last several minutes, she hadn’t actually seen the painting hanging in front of her. She got a vague impression of a titian-haired woman sitting for a portrait with a brown spotted puppy in her lap before she lost her ability to focus.

She turned around instead, facing Jude directly.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. Her question was blunt and accusing, and he glanced from the painting to look at her with obvious surprise. “Did you accept Lord Terribury’s invitation just to torment me?”

Jude’s lips curved upward in a subtle smile that was surprisingly intimate. Her skin warmed as the tension she had been feeling from the moment he had been announced took a decidedly sensual turn.