Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Anna
Graham Everett knew he was not wanted tonight.
I’d given him every clue, every opportunity to excuse himself, and yet still his footsteps clomped behind.
Were all men this careless about a woman’s desires? Or were they simply daft?
He’d come with another investment opportunity; I could tell merely by looking at him. His coat wrinkled, trousers dusty, and his sandy hair a matted mess. Judging by the number of times he swiped his hand through it, something was clearly troubling him.
Not that I cared. Graham could take his greed elsewhere. From the very first moment he’d set foot inside our home, he’d charmed Papa with his intelligence and scheming. He was the grandson of one of Papa’s old friends, which had apparently warranted Papa taking the man under his wing.
I’d tried everything I could to dissuade Papa from inviting Graham to every outing, introducing him to every associate, every connection, every friend we had because even then I could tell that Papa’s time and attention were shifting by the day. Less for me, more for Graham and conversations fit only for men’s ears. What I had tolerated in the beginning grew into something utterly vexatious, and before long I found myself belowstairs with Cook. Far enough away not to hear the clinking glasses and boisterous laughter in Papa’s study.
Indeed, Graham had kept Papa so busy over the past few years, I’d lost count of the weeks I’d been left home alone while he sought out some venture or another. He’d only just returned from Bath!
Whatever new investment scheme Graham Everett proposed this time, I’d thwart at any cost. At present, I needed Papa.
In the dining room, Papa helped me into my chair at the head, then patted my shoulders before moving to his spot at my right.
I straightened my silk skirt comfortably under the table and pretended not to hear the screeching of the chair to my left. I could feel Graham there, tall and wide and filling the other space beside me.
Pea soup was poured into my bowl, then my glass filled with wine.
“I am very fond of pea soup.” Graham aimed his comment to Papa.
I cleared my throat and glared.
“No more than I,” Papa laughed, lifting a spoonful to his mouth. “Another commonality we share, Everett. Thank you, Anna. Your thoughtfulness brings me great pride.”
I forced a pleased smile, for naturally I had planned Papa’s favorite dinner for tonight, for a new beginning. Had I known Graham was attending, I would have served raw turnips.
Graham leaned closer to his bowl as he finished his soup. Comfortable, much too comfortable at our table.
My appetite waned, but I politely sipped my soup, watching Papa’s progress to ensure the evening went according to my plan. After soup, he’d want more wine, which I signaled for. Then soon after, I motioned for the soup bowls to be taken away.
“More favorites.” Papa grinned at the fricassee of lamb, green beans, potato pudding, and spinach cakes that arrived at the table. “A surprise to be sure. And much needed after the day I’ve had.” His eyes focused, and a crease between his brows appeared. “What is the occasion? Have I forgotten a celebration?”
The opposite, actually, but how could I tell Papa of Mr. Lennox’s betrayal with Graham sitting right there. I tried for a smile. “I’ve missed you, that is all.”
“Don’t be modest, Everett,” Papa said, motioning to the platters situated in front of us. “Help yourself.”
Graham looked to me for, what, approval? I set my jaw and stared back. If he thought I might allow him to serve me, he would be greatly disappointed. I gave him my best smile. “Yes, Mr. Everett. Please do not be modest on my account. You’ve always had quite the appetite when you come to our table.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked as he watched me. He tilted his head to hide his annoyance, and it was too good. He had to know how dearly I despised him. I broke our stare and held my breath to keep from laughing.
Papa served the green beans and lamb, and the room grew quiet, all nicking forks and slicing knives.
Then, “Mr. Lane, would you mind passing me the goat cheese?”
I stopped chewing. Do not react. Graham was baiting me.
“Delicious, is it not? Try it with the lamb.” Papa passed the little plate to Graham, who took it in his wide hand. “Keep the plate near you, I’ve plenty.”
“Excellent. Thank you,” Graham said, catching my gaze. The smile he gave me was nothing short of taunting, as though he wanted to prove that nothing I said or did bothered him in the least.
Well. We’d disprove that, would we not?
“I imagine your mother was not pleased to hear your excuses, Everett,” Papa said. “Were you able to see her at all before you turned back?”
“For all of seven hours, sir. And no”—he stifled a laugh—“she was not pleased, to say the least. But I shall return directly.”
Papa turned his attention to me. “I always forget how quiet the streets become as Society retreats. Don’t you, Anna?”
“Indeed,” I agreed.
Our home had been bustling with callers all Season, Mr. Lennox regularly among them. A few suitors had quickly met with Papa’s disapproval and were promptly discouraged from returning. Others found worthy matches elsewhere, and I could scarcely remember their faces. The remaining had sent flowers, taken me on rides, or escorted me to dinner parties. From their numbers, I had free rein to choose. Unfortunately, I had chosen poorly.
“Although I do not miss entertaining,” I added. “I fear I am still recovering from a near constant rotation of new faces and the latest news of who matched with whom. To say nothing of late nights and dinner parties. I daresay, I am envious of those who are retreating from Town.”I forced a little laugh, measuring Papa’s reaction.
Papa became intent upon his plate. “I have not seen Mr. Lennox come to call in several days. Has he quit Town?”
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. How I wished I could cut all ties to that name. To be so openly pursued by a man who’d already promised his hand to another ... Things had advanced so far, my own father had started to wonder about his intentions. But admitting that I’d been charmed and tricked by Mr. Lennox, let alone wounded, was not a topic of conversation I would broach with Graham present. He would likely go home and laugh himself silly. If I could just get Papa away, I could tell him everything, things would settle, and I could try again next Season.
I set my fork across my plate, my appetite lost. “I believe he had business in Bath. In truth, I would dearly love some time away myself.”
“Time away? But we have everything we need right here in London,” Papa said.
“Perhaps a little too much of everything,” I muttered. I waited until his eyes found mine, then added, “And perhaps not enough of you.”
Papa’s innocent smile faltered, and he took a bite of lamb. When he finished chewing, he said, “I have been away more often than usual this past year. Distracted, I’ll admit.”
Knowing Graham sat silently, listening to my every word and judging me behind those light brown eyes was almost unbearable. I looked up from my plate to see him lifting a forkful of lamb slathered in goat cheese. For the slightest second he hesitated, then brought the bite to his lips.
Would he never relent?
Graham frowned down at his plate as he took a deep gulp of wine to chase down the tart flavor of the cheese.
I clasped my hands in my lap. “Careful, Mr. Everett, else we run through the entire cellar tonight.”
Papa stepped gently on my foot. He’d lectured me many times before on acting the part of a lady around his friend. “To where are you dreaming of visiting, Anna?”
A servant poured Graham more wine.
Here was my opportunity. Luckily, I knew my father. He thrived on detail and was more easily swayed by concrete plans, so I met his gaze straight on. “Lyme. A quaint cottage by the sea.”
Papa raised his brow and exchanged a glance with Graham. I wanted to scream at how Papa always looked to the man for support. As though he might have something to say about my liberties.But Graham would never admit what he truly thought. Only what he knew Papa wanted to hear.
“You wish to visit the seaside?” Papa sliced a bite of spinach cake, his eyes faraway and thoughtful. “It has been some time since we have visited Lyme.”
My heart picked up speed, and I turned toward him. “Though it feels like just yesterday. A good book and the sea at our feet. Remember when I was girl, how I’d dig for fossils and bones until the sun fell?” My life had been so full, my heart content. Just the two of us, Papa and me, safe and happy, and the hardest decision I had to make was which color dress to wear.
Papa’s smile warmed, and he reached out and took my hand. “Some of my fondest memories,” he said. “Everett, have you ever visited Lyme?”
Instantly, my face turned cold. Graham’s cheeks had pinked from the wine, and he did not look away when I met his stare. Uninhibited, with his eyes focused so intently upon me, I remembered why half the women from the Season had asked me about him. Why they concocted plans to fall into his path and throw their calling cards at his feet. He was handsome in a natural sort of way, a man who had to do nothing but smile halfway to get attention. It was maddening.
Slowly, he turned his gaze to Papa. “I cannot say that I have, sir. With every respect to Miss Lane, Brighton has outgrown Lyme in popularity in recent years. I daresay the entertainment found there rivals even London.”
I scoffed. The man couldn’t pass up an opportunity to debate me. “How so?”
He set down his wine glass. “For one, the Marine Pavilion and its gardens are second to none. There are yacht races, water parties, the Level, the Steine, a prestigious theater—”
“Indeed?” Papa’s expression moved from surprise to growing interest.
No, no. I would not let Graham’s opinions overshadow mine. I did not want Brighton. I wanted Lyme. I wanted Papa and time away where things moved slow, where people conversed simply for the sake of conversation with absolutely no connection to Mr. Lennox or the whispers that followed.
“Lyme’s history is superior to Brighton in every way,” I said. “We could visit for a fortnight, Papa. We could leave ...”
“... truly must visit to experience the town for what it is.” Graham was droning on. Papa’s gaze warred between us, and desperation caught hold of my will like an iron trap.
“Tomorrow!” The word burst from my lips, silencing the room, and I flinched at how utterly ridiculous the suggestion was. Calculated, planned—that was Papa. Spontaneity was as rare as an early rose.
Graham’s lips parted. That irritating crease in his brow deepened as he watched Papa with as much confusion and curiosity as I.
“Dearest,” Papa said to me softly, laying his cutlery on his plate. So much said in that single word.
I fell back into my chair, my shoulders drooping. What more could I say to convince him? I couldn’t tell Papa how foolish I’d been. How I’d trusted Mr. Lennox, believed his charm to be genuine care, and thought myself falling in love. The truth was I hadn’t known anything about him. Not really. Because all men were glorious charmers, all aiming lovely words at their latest ambition. The only man who’d never wanted anything from me was Papa, and it seemed even he had other priorities of late.
Graham shifted in his seat. Then he placed his napkin to the side of his plate. “Perhaps I should leave you for—”
Papa lifted a hand. “Not at all. Finish, and we shall have port.”
A rejection. Good heavens, how it burned my heart. It welled in my throat and pooled at the corners of my eyes. “Then I shall excuse myself,” I managed to say.
But just as I made to stand, Papa grasped my arm. “Annie, sit,” he chided. “I have an idea. One that I think will be pleasing to us all.”
I caught Graham’s gaze, but he quickly looked away. At least he gave me the decency of composing myself.
“It may not be Lyme, but Mr. Everett is right. Brighton is flourishing. He has an investment deal he’d like me to consider there, but I find myself in want of time. One can never have enough, it seems. Everett, I hope you understand, but there is no one in this world I trust more than my daughter.”
I looked at Graham, who mirrored my confusion. What was Papa planning?
“I trust her opinions,” he continued, “and her knowledge on the trends of London Society. If you could convince her of Brighton’s worth, and of the land you wish to invest in, then you may also have my good opinion, and we shall have a deal and contract to sign upon my return.”
Graham went as pale as the goat cheese on his plate.
Papa turned to me. “Anna, dearest. Do this for me—determine if Brighton is worth an investment, and afterward we’ll find our little cottage by the sea in Lyme. Hmm?”
I tried to make sense of what Papa had just said. There was a business venture brewing between him and Graham, and somehow, by some strange turn of luck, I had been granted decision-making power.
But most importantly, Papa had agreed to my proposal. He’d take me to Lyme.
The investment noise would last a few days at most. Then we could rid ourselves of Society, Mr. Lennox’s pursuit, and the gossipmongers. We’d have no one to worry over but ourselves, just like old times.
I could not temper my grin. “I would not mind at all, Papa.”
Papa grinned in return. “This is an excellent plan. Everett, if I may prevail upon you, Annie will leave with you tomorrow, and I shall follow shortly after the ... meeting in Bath I told you about.”
My jaw went slack. “What?”
Graham cleared his throat. “I—of course,” he said, shifting in his seat. He blinked hard several times, and for once in his life, the man looked terrified.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, leave with him?”
Papa could be oblivious to some of our interactions, but he was not daft. He knew Graham and I were not fond of each other.
“Everett’s family lives in Brighton,” Papa said to me. Then he turned to his friend. “She need only stay with your family for a few days—five, if I can push the horses and reach my destination in good time. A week at most.”
“A week? Papa,” I started to argue. “Do you not think that improper? I can certainly wait a week for your return.”
“Or perhaps, sir, you could rearrange your meeting in Bath and take Miss Lane after seeing Brighton,” Graham argued.
“I cannot go to Bath,” I blurted, gripping the arms of my chair. Mr. Lennox was there, and I would rather perish than be forced into his company so soon. “I simply cannot.”
Papa nodded, considering. “Well, I have been summoned, and I must go. I would trust Mr. Everett with my life, Annie. I certainly trust him with yours. You’ll take Mariah with you. His family will await your arrival.”
Graham sat back, speechless, which was entirely unhelpful, but he could not want this arrangement any less than I.
Papa glanced between us. “This plan will be perfect for us all. And, in truth, a little time together might do you both some good.”
What, did he think we could reconcile our differences? Graham and I were like a fox and a hound. Some personalities did not mix for a reason.
“Then we can finish our business, yes?” Papa raised his brows, then turned back to me. “You help me with this, do a good, thorough job of determining Brighton’s potential, and when I come to claim you, Annie, we shall find a perfect view of the sea and spend a full fortnight away together. Just us. There is much I fear we have missed in each other’s lives of late, and I do not wish to make a habit of continuing to do so.”
He nodded, either satisfied with the plan or oblivious to our reluctance, or perhaps both. My mind was whirling, dizzy. My shallow breaths inadequately compensated for the shock pulsing through my heart.
We’d leave tomorrow. Graham and me. The two of us ... together. Without Papa.
What would we even say to each other?
Graham nodded, agreeing again to the plan, and I swallowed at the thought of staying under his protection for a week. We hated one another; neither of us had made any secret of our opinions. But alone, and out of my father’s view, how would he treat me?
Indeed, I almost wanted him to treat me poorly. Papa would expect a thorough report to support my opinion of Brighton, and part of that would be proving Graham’s poor judgment. One false move, and I’d tell my father every step out of line the man took. I’d write it all down so I wouldn’t forget. And we would not be alone. He had a mother and a sister. Perhaps two sisters? I could not recall. Were all the Everetts as arrogant as he?
One week was all I had to sacrifice. A temporary arrangement in exchange for a fortnight of healing with Papa. Away from the consequences of a foolhardy decision. Away from pretending. I’d let Graham charm himself in circles. Perhaps I might even enjoy a view of the sea from a different shore. But first, I’d disprove everything he thought he loved about Brighton.
I sat back in my seat. This was all fine. It would be awkward, undoubtedly. But what choice did I have?
I imagined an evening in Graham’s drawing room. Him, sitting by the fire with a book and an evil smile, and me, starved from the paltry dinner he’d served to pay me back for all the goat cheese.
He wouldn’t. He needed my good opinion as much as I needed his, and, judging by the fear etched in his every feature, he knew it. All would be fine. Absolutely, perfectly, wonderfully fine.
Yes?
I looked up, meeting Graham’s darkening expression. I refused to let him see my fear. For the first time in our acquaintance, I had the power. His aim would be to please me.
“I shall be ready early. I imagine we shall take an extra stop or two, since you’ll be traveling beside the carriage on horseback.” My smile, at last, was genuine. Never in a million years would I share a carriage with that man for so long a trip.
His nostrils flared the tiniest bit. He wouldn’t refuse me in front of my father, especially when he wanted an investment. I could read the man like a book, and I relished in every sign of his discomfort.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said with a tight smile.
“Good man,” Papa said. “Now ... port.”