Chapter Four
Anthony stood in the drawing room, nodding politely as Lady Josephine explained the third watercolor she’d painted in the last month. He didn’t mind art, but he wasn’t sure he loved it as much as her.
“So, after I made a portrait of my cat, I decided that I was tired of painting living things. I determined a landscape would be next.”
His mind started to wander again, but he forced himself to focus on Josephine. She was a lovely lady, just not for him. She beamed at him. “I’m painting a beautiful representation of my family’s garden in London. I will have to show it to you.”
He smiled but didn’t commit to anything. Her mother, Lady Brennar, joined them. “Lord Webster, you seemed to be charming my daughter.”
Anthony smiled politely. “Your daughter is quite the artist.”
Lady Josephine grinned at him as if she were a cat that had just caught a mouse.
He resisted the urge to pull at his cravat.
He reminded himself that Lady Josephine was not at fault for this debacle.
His mother likely told all these ladies' families that he was interested in finding a bride. He was not.
“Do you plan to stay in England?” Lady Brennar questioned.
He was unable to respond because the sound of glass shattering echoed through the space. The room went silent, and Anthony turned to see Harriet and Lord Mervil standing next to a broken decanter lying on the floor.
He wasn’t sure whose face was redder, Harriet's or the lord she was speaking with. Her eyes connected with his, and her flush deepened. He moved to assist her. A surge of protectiveness thrummed through him to shield her from embarrassment, but also the actual broken glass.
By the time he’d reached the area, Lillian was already there with servants who quickly cleaned up the mess. Harriet mumbled, “I’m so sorry, Lillian. Lord Mervil was explaining how brandy obtains its color, and I picked up the decanter to look closer.”
Lady Brennar and her daughter must have followed behind him because the older woman said, “Why would you lift a decanter? You are known for your clumsiness.”
Harriet's eyes flicked down, horrified to be called out in front of everyone.
“Not clumsy but curious, an admirable trait,” he said in her defense.
Her eyes darted to his face. Anthony suspected he should have walked away, but something in him demanded that he defend her to the harpy that was looking at Harriet as if she were beneath her.
Lillian’s eyes darted to him as well, and she beamed. “I agree, Lord Webster.”
Lady Brennar harrumphed, and Lord Mervil cleared his throat, finally coming to Harriet’s defense. “I agree. I started it all. How about a walk around the drawing room, Lady Harriet?”
Lillian beamed. “Yes, that is a lovely idea.”
She turned to everyone still watching and said, “The staff is almost done cleaning up. Please carry on.”
Anthony watched Harriet place her hand on Lord Mervil’s arm. Annoyance rushed through him. The feeling startled him. Harriet was the hellion he grew up with. Where were these feelings coming from? He studied her. His body hummed as his eyes took in her chestnut hair, pert nose, and plump lips.
His gaze roamed farther down, and he felt his cock twitch as his eyes traced the curve of her breasts, her dainty waist, and her hips that flared out most enticingly.
“Lord Webster, Mother, and I are going to seek some air on the terrace. Would you care to join us?
Cold air was exactly what he needed. Still, he hesitated from tearing his gaze away from Harriet and Lord Mervil. He wanted to push the man out of the way and walk with her. He clenched his fist as he watched Lord Mervil peruse Harriet in the same way he had. It infuriated him.
“Lord Webster?”
Finally, he jerked his gaze away. Anthony wasn’t sure what was going on in his head or his cock. He’d never before had such thoughts about Harriet. Christ, she was Lillian’s sister! He did his best to push the thoughts away and managed a smile. “Yes, please allow me to escort you, ladies.”
He would not fantasize about Harriet. It was unacceptable.
***
Harriet glanced around the ballroom, noticing that many of the parents of the younger adults had departed for their guest chambers. Lillian, she supposed, was now the chaperone for all the unmarried ladies. It felt strange to see her sister that way, but she had been married for five years.
She glanced at Philip, who watched her sister adoringly.
A wave of longing coursed through Harriet, shocking her.
She didn’t often think of marriage or even dream of it.
She’d decided long ago she wouldn’t settle.
Harriet wanted someone with whom she had a connection with.
She’d never dare whisper it aloud, but she wanted love.
A deep, enduring love like Lillian and Philip.
Her sister instructed her staff to push chairs and tables to the side of the room. Harriet tilted her head, quizzically watching them and wondering what she was up to. Lillian grinned at Philip, who rolled his eyes but smiled at her indulgently.
“Attention, everyone, we are going to play a game,” her sister said excitedly. “Please come here and form a circle.”
A servant handed Lillian a long cloth. Everyone looked around, a little unsure. Harriet stood next to Lord Mervil. The man hadn’t been far from her side since his arrival. Lord Bennet, who was also here for a chance to court her, had only been polite. She suspected his mother dragged him here.
Her sister proclaimed, “We are going to play Blindman’s Bluff. One person will be blindfolded, and I will spin you around. Once you stop, you must touch the face of the person in front of you and guess who it is.”
Harriet shook her head at her sister’s antics, but everyone seemed excited.
Anthony stood on the other side of the circle.
Their eyes briefly connected, but they both glanced away.
It had been like that all night since she’d shattered the decanter.
Something had passed between them earlier.
He’d been perusing her, almost like a caress. It made her warm all over.
Stop thinking about Anthony, Harriet told herself.
Philip and Lord Bennet stayed seated in two chairs.
Lillian glanced at them, but Philip shook his head.
She pouted slightly but moved on quickly.
Philip was an old soul who, even as a child, hadn’t much enjoyed games.
Harriet doubted Lillian was truly upset.
Her sister turned to Lady Leonora. “You are up first.”
The lady giggled excitedly, and everyone counted as Lillian spun her around ten times. She stumbled slightly and then walked toward Lady Josephine. Lady Leonora clumsily touched her face. They both giggled. “I would know that face anywhere. It is my dear friend, Josephine.”
Everyone applauded, even Philip and Lord Bennet. Lillian turned and faced Anthony, grinning. “You are next, Lord Webster.”
He blanched. “I’m not sure.”
Everyone cheered until he grinned sheepishly and walked to the center of the circle.
Harriet watched as Lillian spun him around, and the crowd counted.
Anthony had always been handsome, but now he seemed so virile.
The softness he had at twenty-four had been replaced with confidence and a muscular build.
Harriet swallowed, feeling heat pool in her lower body.
She glanced away, mortified by what she was feeling.
Anthony didn’t quickly stumble toward someone like Lady Leonora had, but instead stood rooted to where he had stopped spinning, steadying himself. Everyone grew quiet, waiting to see where he would head. He turned slightly and walked in Harriet’s direction.
She took a deep breath. A hum of something drifted between them. He tentatively held out his hand, seeking someone to touch. Harriet held her breath as his hand gently stroked the side of her face. It was the softest touch. She found herself leaning slightly forward.
His hand moved toward her mouth, and the tips of his fingers lightly brushed over her lower lip. Anthony took a deep breath. The touch likely looked innocent, but it didn’t feel that way to Harriet. It made her go hot all over.
He yanked his hand back, clenching his fingers into a fist. Gruffly, he said, “Lady Harriet.”
The entire group applauded, and he tore the cloth away from his eyes. It was over, but for some reason, it didn’t feel finished between them.