The Trouble with Anna

Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

T HE DOWAGER WOKE THE NEXT morning to her usual aches—the stiff shoulder, the pain in her knee, and the tight finger joints that curled in a bit more each day. Still, she could only think how well she felt. It was tremendously invigorating to watch a proud man make an ass of himself.

The Dowager’s gaze fell on the thick book she kept on the little table next to her bed, and she picked it up and tossed it to the floor. She didn’t need her own special copy of Debrett’s Peerage anymore, marked up with her many scribbled observations on London’s debutantes. It was quite clear she could cross out all her lists and give up the business of finding Julian a countess altogether. Lord Barton had played matchmaker already, bless the old bastard. Of course, the Dowager preferred sedate courtships—and said so loudly when Charlotte was in earshot—but Anna was perfect .

The Dowager shook her head, amused once again by the tricks life played. To think how she’d worried when Julian first announced his intentions, how she had wanted to wail and wave her hands around, all while she’d smiled and tried to scheme up ways to talk him out of it.

As if that were possible.

Julian had many wonderful qualities, but flexibility was not one of them. He handed down commandments as if he were the Archbishop and the rest of them a flock of particularly stupid sheep.

The Dowager did not hold with arrogance—it was so often just idiocy dressed up in fancy clothes—but she excused it in Julian, and not simply because he was her grandson. After all, it was his arrogance, his sheer bloody-mindedness, that had saved them all from the wretched mess his father had left behind.

Her heart gave a stuttering kick, as it always did when her thoughts turned to her lost son, and her aches began to yowl at her once more. Each day gravity pulled her down a bit lower, and soon it would—gently, she hoped—lay her in the ground to rest. The knowledge didn’t scare her much, unless she thought of her boy. Strange how joy let her face the prospect of leaving the world with peace, while her one great sorrow anchored her so firmly here.

Never mind!

The Dowager pulled back the piles of covers, lowered her legs carefully over the side of the bed, and rang for a pot of chocolate. She hadn’t seen how brilliant the match was, not at first. What would a man as guarded as Julian do with someone like Anna, who’d arrived at Mayne so prickled up and wary, with such flashing hurt in her eyes that the Dowager had to fight the urge wrap her up in cotton wool, put her in a little box, and nurse her carefully with dropperfuls of sweetened milk?

Imagine her surprise when Anna grew stronger every day and it was Julian who got the worst from their skirmishes. Not that the Dowager wanted him hurt, of course, so much as shaken up, forced to see beyond his own rigid perspective. There was no faster way to ruin a man than for the world to agree with him all the time.

Don’t be ridiculous! she told herself sternly. Julian’s far from ruined.

She couldn’t bear to watch another bright boy begin to harden in the name of strength.

She shook the thought away.

Poor Julian, he didn’t even know how besotted he was.

Or how much worse it could get, before it got better.

Now the silly boy insisted he and Anna were engaged, while the poor girl insisted they were not. The Dowager wondered what London would make of that—and better yet, how she could make use of it.

A dark head peeped in through the drawing room door. “You asked to see me, my lady?”

The Dowager was pleased to see that Anna was pink with embarrassment already, which would only make her easier to manage. Even though the embarrassment, by rights, belonged to Julian. It was shocking how often women leaped up to shoulder blame that belonged to men.

Still, one must make the most of one’s opportunities.

“There you are, darling. I’ve been waiting ages. Come sit by me and be sure to close the door.” The Dowager gave the pillow next to her a weak pat. “The servants got an earful last night and I couldn’t bear for them to hear any more.”

“I’m so sorry, my lady! I can’t think what came over—”

“I know, darling, I know.” The Dowager squeezed Anna’s arm, but gently, as if her gnarled old hands were barely strong enough to pick up a teacup. Oh, how fun to play these tricks again! Charlotte had gotten wise to them years ago.

“It won’t happen again, I promise!” Anna said. “Julian and I settled everything last night.”

The Dowager sat up straighter. “Oh?”

Anna nodded miserably. “I told him very firmly we wouldn’t suit, and we agreed to end the engagement.”

“ No! ” cried the Dowager, much more forcefully than she intended.

She rallied at once and gave Anna a small, brave smile. Anyone could resist tears, but it took a hard heart indeed to resist a small, brave smile. “Darling, I understand your feelings, I do! But your engagement was printed in the Times , twice, and Julian confirmed it to a room full of people last night. It would be a dreadful scandal to withdraw right now! I doubt my heart could bear it.”

“Surely we can repeat what I said last night? That Lord Ramsay is an overzealous guardian, but there’s no real need for an engagement?”

“I see. Do you want Julian to be called a fool—or perhaps you fancy the title of jilt?”

Anna went an alarming shade of white, but she squared her shoulders. “You must call me a jilt, of course. I’ll leave for Chatham immediately.”

Oh dear. The child was just as dreadfully honorable as Julian. No wonder he was so smitten. The Dowager rolled her eyes at the thought of the noble sacrifices they would make together.

“It’s out of the question for you to leave! It does me a world of good to have you and Charlotte bustling about, and you’ll have a place here as long as you like. You’re Charlotte’s friend and you’ve become very dear to me as well.”

Tears filled Anna’s eyes and she tried hard to blink them away. “I couldn’t bear to bring shame to your family, not after all you and Charlotte have done for me.”

The Dowager pressed her handkerchief on Anna, conscious of a faint frisson of guilt. These things were so difficult! It would be much easier all around if the children simply did as they were told.

“Dearest, you mustn’t cry. If you and my grandson truly don’t wish to marry, all right! But I suppose you want to avoid a scandal as badly as I do?”

A watery nod.

“And you agree that an abrupt end to the engagement would only rile the gossips further?”

Anna frowned. “I’m not at all sure—”

“ I am. You will stay on for the Season and we’ll drop subtle hints that things aren’t quite decided. By summertime, the Ton will forget there was ever an engagement in the first place.”

It was a lie, of course, but the Dowager waited a moment and no bolt of lightning struck her down. Perhaps heaven had a soft spot for grandmothers.

Anna’s eyebrows knit together. “I don’t understand. Isn’t that exactly what I was trying to do last night?”

“Very wise, darling. But we must all do it with a united front, and slowly. ”

Anna, thoroughly baffled by now, gave one last nod, and the Dowager tried not to look too smug. She’d send Anna and Julian to balls together, she’d force them to partner each other at dinners, and she’d stuff them into as many darkened carriages as she could manage. If Julian was too foolish to make use of his opportunities—well, she washed her hands of him.

At least, until she thought of another plan.

Julian sat across from his grandmother in her drawing room, her very best lecture sailing past him. His fight with Anna played out over and over in his head, consuming him too completely to allow him to concentrate on anything else. Even the words in the morning paper had rearranged themselves into a series of vicious I hate you s until he’d thrown the paper across the room with a cry of disgust.

How had he bungled it so badly?

Julian’s head throbbed and his chest ached. Worst of all, his heart—

He stopped himself. It didn’t matter what his stupid heart did, because Anna hated him. And for good reason! He’d won her trust and affection and then killed it stone dead, as sure as if he’d lifted his rifle and let a bullet fly.

The pain in his chest got worse, as if great muscles were pulling themselves apart. Could he walk away? He couldn’t see another option, yet how could he bear—

“Julian?” called the Dowager. “Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

“Yes. We’ll end the engagement after the Season. Anna agrees? I won’t have her bullied.”

“The things you say, Julian! As if I would bully anyone.” The Dowager kept her expression perfectly bland.

Julian narrowed his eyes. “I find I’d like to speak to Anna directly.”

“She’s out riding with Lord Hartley at the moment.” The Dowager paused, much struck. “Such a kind man, and so handsome. With any luck they’ll make a match and take the whole problem off our hands!”