Chapter Seventeen
Anna laid her fork beside the half-eaten sherry tart and cast a sidelong glance at Pere.
Her friend was clearly reveling in the attention, as evident by the smile gracing her lips and the playful dimple flickering on her cheek.
Lady Anna wished fervently that Pere would find the right suitor at this house party.
As the word suitor crossed her mind, her gaze shifted to Edwin—Lord Devon.
She hadn’t spoken his name aloud—it would be far too improper—but in her mind, she whispered it repeatedly, marveling at how well it suited him.
His golden hair brushed the curve of his collar, and a twin dimple, much like his sister’s, appeared on his cheek as he smiled at a comment from another guest. He had been perfectly attentive throughout the evening and dinner, inviting her into conversation when appropriate and complimenting her with quiet ease.
If she were writing the story, he was playing the perfect hero.
Yet, part of her heart couldn’t help but flicker toward the other side of the table, where Henley—Lord Allendale—sat beside Lord Hawthorne.
More curious still was the apparent camaraderie between the two.
Throughout dinner, Henley and Lord Hawthorne had been deep in conversation, sharing confidences with an intimacy that seemed strange—an odd pairing, to say the least. At one point, Anna caught Lord Allendale’s eye, and she quickly flicked her gaze back to her plate, but the flush of heat that crept up her cheeks betrayed her composure.
As dinner wound down, the gentlemen prepared to retire to their own parlor for brandy and cigars, while the ladies would gather in a separate parlor with sherry and the gossip that had brewed at the table.
Anna would have a few precious moments with Pere before the men joined them, likely to begin a game of charades or something similar.
When Lady Devon rose, the rest of the guests followed—men trailing after Lord Devon, ladies behind his mother, Lady Devon. Pere grasped Anna’s hand and tugged her along, as if concerned Anna wasn’t moving quickly enough.
“Why are we moving so fast?” Anna asked.
“The question is, why are you moving so slowly?” Pere shot back. “I want to get to the parlor before everyone else. We might snag the best seats—and I might have you all to myself for a few moments, because I heard something you have to know.”
Anna’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, now I’m insanely curious. Whatever could you have heard that I didn’t? I was right beside you the entire dinner.”
Pere gave a placating smile. “I’d heard bits before but couldn’t tell you as we headed to the dining hall. Now that I have a moment—” She glanced around cautiously, then led Anna deeper into the parlor toward two wingback chairs beside a tall bookcase. “Here. This should do. Take a seat.”
Anna sat as Pere leaned forward, waiting to spill whatever gossip had made their hurried pace necessary.
“Well?” Anna prodded impatiently.
Pere glanced about to ensure privacy, then leaned closer, her eyes bright and wide.
“My mother invited Lord Waverly to the house party. He did not accept the invitation, which struck me as very odd. He’s been so attentive—asking for dances at past balls, showing up during my at-home hours, always thoughtful.
I assumed a schedule conflict, but why would anyone decline my mother’s invitation?
Now I’ve learned the real reason he couldn’t come. ” Her voice dropped, tense.
Anna tipped her chin. “And what was that?”
Pere patted her leg anxiously. “It was discovered he’d had a dalliance with Lady Wilson. Her escape to the countryside wasn’t to recover from illness, as everyone thought. When the truth came out, her father threatened pistols at dawn if Lord Waverly didn’t make amends.”
Anna gasped. “No!”
Pere nodded solemnly. “Yes. There’s more, but too many people are about now. After the games, come to my room—we’ll talk details. For now, you know the important part.”
“How am I supposed to focus on the games or polite conversation with my mind racing like this?”
“Now you know how I felt all dinner!” Pere giggled.
“I’d never have guessed you felt that way. And I must say, you looked quite interested in a few gentlemen near you—another thing we’ll discuss after the games.”
The parlor’s candlelight flickered as the gentlemen filed in, settling into relaxed seats, the scent of brandy and cigar smoke blending with the beeswax candles.
No one seemed in a rush, and the calm eased some tension Anna hadn’t realized she’d been carrying.
Sharing a smile with Pere, she noticed several gentlemen nodding toward her friend, choosing seats nearby.
Soon, Pere was engaged in soft conversation.
A warm shiver tickled Anna’s spine, causing her to hesitate before she identified its source.
Brown eyes locked with hers—Henley had entered the room, not even pretending disinterest; the fascination in his gaze was obvious to anyone watching.
Anna glanced away, certain their silent exchange was obvious, but as she scanned the room, she realized no one had noticed.
Bravely, she looked back. Henley’s eyes waited patiently.
He gave a small smile and raised an eyebrow—as if to say, No one’s watching, but I am.
He always was. The realization struck her sharply. He was always aware of her, of others, of everyone but himself. She tilted her head, studying him boldly, if truth be told—because she, too, was always aware of him. Perhaps that’s why she assumed everyone else noticed.
Henley strode over, his long, lean body moving with a subtle grace that seemed almost unnatural for his height. Taking a seat beside her, he broke eye contact and leaned in slightly.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll think we’ve already won the games before they start.”
“My apologies.” Anna didn’t dare meet his gaze, forcing herself not to shiver at the low timbre of his voice.
“Please don’t. I’m just warning you—I might claim victory prematurely, and that might entertain those around us.” He chuckled softly.
Anna’s ears perked as he inhaled, about to speak, but his mother’s voice interrupted.
“As you can see, I have tables set up for whist! To be fair, I’ve written everyone’s names on slips of parchment and will assign the partners.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Henley muttered low enough for Anna alone. “She wouldn’t leave an opportunity to chance—not one like this.”
“Oh?” Anna whispered, turning to him. “You think she’s already assigned the partners but wants it to seem random?”
Henley’s eyes softened as he studied her. “I don’t believe anything is random when matchmaking is involved.”
Anna swallowed and nodded, turning her attention as Lady Devon drew the first names from the bowl.
“First pairing: Edwin and … Lady Quinn?” She pulled a slip and furrowed her brow, glancing up to meet Anna’s eyes before flicking her attention back toward the doorway, where Edwin had just entered.
“But if one wants to win the game, they have to think ahead,” Henley whispered, earning Anna’s full attention. His lips tightened, barely hiding a smile dancing in his eyes.
“What … did you do something?” she asked, amused.
“Maybe. I won’t tell you, to keep you innocent of my machinations.” He grinned, then nodded toward his mother. “She’s trying to figure out why the parchment folded differently has a name other than yours.”
“You took it out?” Anna whispered, careful not to draw attention.
Henley gave a sidelong glance. “I neither confirm nor deny.”
Anna narrowed her eyes playfully. “So, I’ll be matched with another random gentleman instead?”
“Or the only one left…” He turned to face her fully, arching a brow.
Lady Devon continued pairing names, and as understanding dawned, Anna looked from Lady Devon to Henley and back. “You took out your name.”
“Beautiful and brilliant.” He nodded with approval.
“I … am impressed.”
“Good. I endeavor to impress you, Lady Anna. Now, if I’m not mistaken, my mother is nearly finished, and I’ll need to make a query.”
Anna watched as people filed toward the tables. Henley stood and turned to her.
“I believe that only leaves us, Lady Anna! You must be my partner.” He offered his hand to help her rise.
Anna bit back a smile at his clever maneuver. “It would seem so.” Her gaze flicked toward Edwin, who watched them with narrowed, displeased eyes.
Anna accepted Henley’s hand and followed him to a table with two empty chairs.
“Are you any good at whist?” she asked as she sat.
“Yes,” Henley replied with a daring grin. “I’m quite strategic.” He glanced down, as if hiding a secret smile.
“Apparently,” she replied dryly, but with humor.
As the cards were dealt, Anna studied her suits, eyes on the flipped trump card.
Henley’s low voice interrupted her focus. “Don’t look so pleased—you’ll give us away.” He nodded at her cards. “Lord Farthingham is a strong player, but he’ll lead us astray with a few blunders to give us false hope before taking the final tricks. Trust me.”
Anna nodded, believing him. “Yes.”
Henley caught her eye, warmth spreading across his face. “If you’re trying to win me over with compliments, it’s working. I don’t think I’ve ever had a more flattering word. Thank you.” He nodded graciously.
“Just being honest,” Anna replied, trying to lighten the moment.
Glancing up, she saw Edwin watching her closely, a welcoming smile briefly crossing his lips—though it never reached his eyes.
She lowered her gaze as the game began.
Lord Farthingham and Lady Armstad’s swift play pushed the round along, and Anna found herself thinking quickly, planning every move with lightning strategy. Her competitive spirit flared as the round neared its end—she had saved her highest trump card for last.
“Good strategy,” Henley murmured, his voice a warm whisper vibrating through the air—more breath than sound. His quiet encouragement fanned her determination to win.
The game neared its climax. With steady hands, Anna reached for her final card, the move that would decide the game. But in a flash, Henley’s hand darted forward, brushing hers as he claimed victory—swift, effortless, and electric.
The brief contact sent a jolt of heat racing up her arm, an unexpected tremor humming straight to her heart.
It was as if the room shrank, the air thickened, charged with something unspoken.
His hand lingered, suspended in that intimate space—as if he, too, felt it—his gaze locking with hers, deep and knowing, their worlds suddenly sharp in focus.
For a moment, neither moved nor spoke. The silence buzzed with the weight of the moment, an unacknowledged connection hanging between them like a delicate thread, ready to snap.
“Drat.” Lord Farthingham slammed his cards on the table, shattering the spell.
Anna blinked, breaking the moment. “Good game,” she offered politely, dropping her hands to her lap.
Good Lord, what was wrong with her? It was just a touch—nothing erotic, nothing scandalous—yet her heart hammered and her breath caught.
She wanted to see if Henley felt the same, but fear held her back.
Madness! Everyone expected her to leave the house party betrothed to his brother. His brother, not Henley.
“I know.” Henley’s voice was a low rumble, and Anna instinctively met his eyes. “I know,” he whispered, “but what’s expected isn’t always what’s best.” His words hung close, full of meaning—almost a declaration—before he rose and slipped away into the shadows.
Anna stood frozen, pulse racing, fighting the urge to call him back. But before she could collect herself, Pere stepped beside her, ever watchful.
“I see the game’s over,” Pere said with a sly smile, eyes twinkling. “You won?”
Anna’s heart still pounded. “I think I need some air.” She didn’t answer her friend’s question.
“Is that so?” Pere whispered teasingly. “Or is someone making you feel … unsettled? I don’t worry about Edwin—he’s partnered with a dowager and hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night.”
Anna glanced at her friend in disbelief. How could Pere not notice? She laughed, though it was strained and her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“Pere, you have no idea.”
“Want to leave early? It’s only been one or two games, but—”
“Yes.” Anna grabbed at the lifeline in her friend’s words. “I…” She almost confided, but paused as Pere’s gaze shifted left, landing on a gentleman smiling in her direction.
“I’m sure you have much to tell me,” Anna amended.
Pere’s face lit with an expressive grin. “Yes, let’s go to my room and escape all this. I think I have a favorite…” She let the words linger, then grasped Anna’s arm. “Shall we?”
Anna nodded, then met Edwin’s gaze. A cold chill crept up her spine at the possessive, warmthless expression. She nodded to him, then followed Pere from the room, her mind swirling with the night’s events. She told herself it was just a game, just a moment—but her heart whispered otherwise.