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Authors: Valerie Bowman

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BOOK: Secrets of a Runaway Bride
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Nicoletta shot him a glare but settled back into her seat like a Persian cat, eyeing Annie through narrow slits of eyes.

Annie couldn’t look at her. Signorina Monrovia was everything she was not—worldly, sophisticated, exotically beautiful. This was the woman who knew the world of men, the secrets of men. Nicoletta was not a woman who needed to chase anyone. Oh, no. Men obviously pursued her. Men as rich, charming, worldly, handsome, and dashing as Jordan Holloway. Now Annie realized that he was exactly all of those things. He was everything Frances had said he was and more. Annie had just been too blinded by his connection to Devon and Lily to see things clearly. And here she was, this silly young lady, wasting his valuable time. She was like a fly buzzing about at his elegant dinner party.

Oh, God, it was too humiliating to contemplate. All this time, she’d been fighting with him and acting like a spoiled brat while he’d wanted nothing more than to get her to behave so he could be off to his usual pursuits like taking his incomparably lovely mistress to the theater. Annie wanted to sink through the seat and disappear.

Had they been together, these two, night after night, talking about her, laughing about how foolish she was and what an idiot she was being over Arthur Eggleston? Arthur seemed like a ridiculous boy compared to Lord Ashbourne’s suave sophistication. Oh, how could she have misjudged him so? She would never be able to face him after tonight. She prayed for a quick journey home.

She glanced over at Signorina Monrovia again. Why did she even care about his exotic mistress? Annie had done this to herself. If she hadn’t lied and gone to the theater tonight, she wouldn’t be in this hideous situation right now. She had only herself to blame.

When Lord Ashbourne next spoke, his voice was still tight but less angry. He leaned forward and braced his forearms on his knees. “Annie, listen to me, I’ve done all of this for your own good. Eggleston’s feelings for you are not as strong as you’d … like them to be, and I—”

Annie lifted a hand. “Stop, just stop.” If she could have swallowed an invisibility pill and escaped from the carriage at that moment, she would have. As it was, she eyed the door and briefly considered jumping. The only thing that stopped her was the mortifying thought that she might further interrupt Lord Ashbourne’s evening by requiring a surgeon to treat a broken limb. She could just picture the sour expression on Signorina Monrovia’s face were that to take place. And the worst part was, Lord Ashbourne was right. She’d been doing nothing but making a fool of herself over Arthur Eggleston. She’d known that but had let Frances convince her it wasn’t true. But no more.

“I don’t need another lecture,” she said. “I’m through chasing Mr. Eggleston about.”

Lord Ashbourne looked unconvinced, but his voice was still soft. “I think that’s wise.”

The coach pulled to a stop in front of Devon’s town house. Lord Ashbourne alighted first and turned to help Annie. She didn’t say good-bye to Nicoletta.

Annie walked quickly to the front door, acute embarrassment spurring every step. She unlocked the door, but could not bring herself to face him. Instead, she stood completely still, her eyes fastened on the shiny, brass door knocker.

“Lord Ashbourne, I am very sorry for your trouble tonight, and all of the other nights you’ve been forced to pay attendance on me.”

He nodded. She saw the movement from the corner of her eye. “Don’t mention it.”

She pushed the door open, intending to run inside and never look back, to not stop running until she reached the safety of her bed, but his hand on her arm stopped her. It was warm. Comforting. She still couldn’t look at him. “Yes?”

“Annie, it really is true, what I said in the coach. I’m not trying to make your life difficult. I truly believe it’s what is best for you.”

She nodded once, and swallowed the enormous lump in her throat. Now he was pitying her. Oh God. Could this night become any more humiliating?

She forced herself to jerk her head in his direction. “Thank you, Lord Ashbourne. I can honestly say I no longer intend to prove to be any trouble for you.”

He nodded. Annie entered the house and shut the door behind her. She pushed her back against the wood and slid down to the marble floor until she sat in a pool of bright blue satin.

She was a fool. A complete fool. She’d been chasing Arthur around with nothing to show for it and it took the gorgeous Lord Ashbourne and his mistress to convince her how wrong she’d been. She’d been humiliated tonight. Twice. First in front of the Egglestons and then in front of Jordan’s exquisite mistress. Wonderful! But was it any more than Annie deserved? If Lily had been in town, no doubt her sister would have locked her in the attic by now given her outlandish behavior.

Annie picked herself up and made her way to her room. Oh, good God, had Lord Ashbourne’s mistress been beautiful. Annie’s own too curly hair and too wide mouth and too blunt nose were positively plain compared to the signorina’s perfect countenance. She looked like she’d been chiseled from marble as well. Perfect, both of them. A pair of sculptures.

Annie cringed when she thought of how she’d asked Lord Ashbourne to kiss her that night at the Lindworths’. Now she realized just how out of her depth she had been. Oh, she could just kick herself for being so naïve.

An unsettling sick feeling roiled in her belly. Nicoletta was Jordan’s mistress and they were going home together. No doubt they intended to spend the evening naked in each other’s perfect arms. Why did that thought make Annie feel like someone had hit her in the gut? Why did it make her feel melancholy and lonely and unhappy all at the same time? It didn’t have anything to do with her.

She rang for Mary to help her undress and shook her head. She mustn’t think any more about Lord Ashbourne. It was too awful. The man had scolded her, in front of his stunning mistress, no less. Tears of frustration and anger sprang to Annie’s eyes. “I will not make a fool of myself ever again,” she vowed.

And she intended to tell Arthur Eggleston exactly that. Tomorrow.

 

CHAPTER 17

Jordan had one hell of a time extricating himself from Nicoletta’s arms after escorting her to the front door of her town house minutes later. She pouted. She pleaded. She even attempted tears. She finally accused him of being in love with Annie Andrews, which, of course, was the most absurd thing he’d heard all month. And while spending time with Annie, he’d heard a great many ludicrous things this month.

“Why won’t you stay with me then?” Nicoletta stamped her foot. “You haven’t been to my bed in nearly a fortnight.”

Jordan ran a hand through his hair. Yes, a fortnight. Since he’d begun watching Annie. It was no coincidence. “I’m out of sorts. I need a drink.”

Nicoletta ran her hand down his arm. “I have brandy here, Jordan. Come in. Have a drink. Relax.” She smiled at him coyly.

“I’m meeting friends at the club,” he’d finally insisted before pulling his arm from her grasp and turning on his heel. It had been a lie, of course, but how could he explain to Nicoletta that seeing Annie with tears in her eyes had made him feel all sorts of things but amorous wasn’t one of them?

“You will not be welcome if you try to come back,” Nicoletta hurled at him through the darkness.

Jordan didn’t respond to that threat. He strode back to the coach and entered it.

“The club,” he snapped in response to John’s inquiring look.

John didn’t say a word but Jordan was beginning to feel damned ridiculous for his choices of late. Not that it was any of his coachman’s affair where he spent his evenings. “The club,” he repeated. “And make it quick.”

*   *   *

Jordan was two drinks and four hands of cards into the night when James Bancroft joined his party.

“Medford? Really? Again? Twice in one week is far too often to encounter you.”

Medford quirked a brow. “I’m here nearly every night, Ashbourne. The question is why have you been frequenting the club so often?”

Jordan took a drink. “That’s none of your affair.”

Medford cracked a smile. “I heard you caused quite a scene at the theater tonight.”

Jordan groaned. “Who told you that?”

“I have my sources. Besides, I already informed you I’ve been keeping an eye on Annie.”

“You’re still more than welcome to the position.”

“Actually,” Medford replied, “I came to say I think you’ve been doing a splendid job.”

Jordan’s eyebrows shot up and he cupped a hand behind his ear. “What was that?”

“I’m serious. I might have done the same thing had I been at the theater tonight. Pulling her out of there, taking her home. Well done.”

Jordan raised his voice so the few gentlemen sitting in their small group could hear. “Catch that, gents? Medford here just told me ‘Well done.’ Record it in the book for posterity.”

Medford chuckled. “Don’t get too cocky, Ashbourne. My congratulatory speech comes with a warning.”

Jordan rolled his eyes. “I should have expected as much. Are you going to tell me I’d best not make her angry because she’s like a sister to you, et cetera? I’ve heard it already.”

Medford rubbed his jaw. “No. Not at all.”

Jordan blinked. “What’s that?”

“I was going to say the exact opposite, really. You shouldn’t trust her.”

Jordan whistled. “Now that’s a surprise. What exactly do you mean?”

“It’s about now she’ll try to tell you she’s given up and you win. Am I right?”

Jordan cracked a smile. “She did mention that I might expect better behavior out of her from now on.”

“Yes, well, don’t believe it. Rubbish, all of it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I know Lily and Annie well. It’s just when they seem as if they’ve acquiesced that you must be the most careful.”

“That begs a question, Medford. How exactly
did
you and Lily become thick as thieves?”

Medford grinned. “Let’s just say we have similar senses of humor.”

“Ah, yes. And your sense of humor carries over into publishing scandalous pamphlets together?”

Medford gave him an innocent look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jordan eyed him carefully. “I’ve always wondered, Medford—was it your idea or Lily’s to publish
Secrets of a Wedding Night
?”

Medford’s crack of laughter bounced against the wood-paneled walls in the salon. “Really, Ashbourne. That wasn’t even a good try.”

Jordan shrugged. “Oh, play your little games. I know you two colluded to produce the thing.”

Medford leaned back in his chair and took a swig from his glass. A glass that no doubt contained water. Jordan shook his head.

“It’s a shame, really, Lily marrying Colton. If I
were
the publisher of
Secrets of a Wedding Night,
I’d have to look elsewhere for a new scandalous author.”

“I’m sure you’ll have little trouble finding someone else willing to write your drivel.”

Medford’s only reply was a smirk.

“You fascinate me, Medford,” Jordan continued. “How is it that a perfectionist like you turned into the most scandalous publisher in London?”

“You act as if I publish something positively indecent, Ashbourne. Everything I’m involved in is entirely legal, I assure you.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.”

“I’m working on my next venture as we speak, actually.”

Jordan cocked a brow. “Really? Do tell.”

“You’ll be one of the very first to know. I assure you, Ashbourne.” Medford straightened his shoulders. “But we’re not talking about me tonight. We’re talking about you … and Annie.”

Jordan nodded. “So we are.”

“I’ve no idea why Lily saw fit to leave a rake like you in charge of her sister. I suppose it has something to do with your saving her husband’s life like a bloody knight in armor. But you’d do well to take my advice.”

Jordan leaned back in his chair and crossed his own feet at the ankles. “And your advice is not to trust Annie. Is that it?”

Medford lifted his glass and smiled. “Keep a close eye on her. She’s not done yet. Not by half.”

 

CHAPTER 18

Arthur Eggleston arrived at Annie’s house the next morning at ten. She’d sent him a note. And Evans informed her that Mr. Eggleston had been sitting quietly in the drawing room awaiting her presence.

Annie paused outside the drawing room door, took a deep breath, and squared her shoulders. This wasn’t going to be easy, but so often important things weren’t.

She pushed open the door and walked inside. Arthur immediately rose to greet her, a smile on his face.

“Mr. Eggleston.” She nodded, not smiling one bit.

His smile fell. “Anne? What is it? Are you all right? I was worried about you after your encounter with Lord Ashbourne last night.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you … angry?” He eyed her inquisitively.

“No. Not angry.” She tossed her head to the side.

He looked a bit worried. “Are you embarrassed then? About what Lord Ashbourne did? Don’t worry, hardly anyone noticed. My sister said Lord Ashbourne was very rude to do what he did. He should be the one to be embarrassed, not you.”

“I’m not embarrassed. Not any longer,” Annie replied.

“Then what is it?”

Annie took a deep breath. She’d spent the entire night thinking about the situation. Arthur’s father might want him to wait and think things through a bit more before he made a decision. Arthur himself might not think anything of waiting. He’d made that clear.

But it mattered very much to Annie, and she was done. He might very well be fine with waiting, but he would not be waiting for
her
.

She stared Arthur in the eye and drew a deep breath. “Mr. Eggleston. I no longer intend to marry you.”

Arthur blinked in rapid succession. “What do you mean, Anne? What has our marriage to do with last night?”

Annie folded her hands in her lap serenely. “Absolutely nothing. I just thought you should know.”

Arthur smacked his head with his palm. “Where is this coming from, Anne?”

A bit of the tension eased from Annie’s shoulders. “It’s become clear to me that you have no intention of marrying me and I refuse to chase after you any longer.”

BOOK: Secrets of a Runaway Bride
11.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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