Chapter 4 #2
Leaned up against a lamp post in front of the modiste shop filled with women, Warren waited for the two women to complete their orders.
His mind replayed the encounter with Miss Olivia over and over.
He hadn't imagined the brief spark of recognition in his mama’s gaze or her overly enthusiastic greeting.
Warren couldn’t recall having ever met the woman, yet there was a sense of familiarity about her.
Miss Olivia.
He retrieved the coin that was worn smooth from his pocket and absently rolled it over and between his fingers. Miss Olivia was of a similar build and height to the chit who had assisted his mama at the Velvet Hell, but the lady today was more… subservient rather than bold and daring.
Miss Olivia. Olivia.
The name, combined with the woman’s sweet, lopsided smile, had him wishing she was wearing the silver necklace adorned with his signet ring. Egad. Anne’s endless monologues on fate and destiny had his imagination in a whirl.
He’d given his word to the angel who had saved him.
His mama had her mind set on someone else becoming the next Viscountess of Guernsey.
Was marrying for love rather than convention even possible?
He flipped the coin in the air, caught it, and placed it on the back of his hand.
Bah. He didn’t believe in fate. Without peeking to see whether the coin had landed heads or tails up, Warren tucked the coin safely back into his pocket.
He had to ground himself, as his mama suddenly appeared at his side and asked, “How did you return so quickly?”
“Return? From where?” he asked.
She linked her arm through his and set off in the direction from which they had come. “From escorting Anne home, of course.”
“I haven’t seen Anne since the two of you entered the modiste.”
“Oh, dear.” The calm facade plastered upon her features contradicted her concerned words. Anne was up to mischief, and he suspected his mama was aiding the chit. “Whatever shall we do?”
“Mama, I’m no longer a boy, and I’m certainly far too old to be playing games like hide and seek. Where did Anne go?”
“How would I know?” Her feigned look of innocence had the corner of his lips curling into a smile.
“You are her chaperone for the Season, are you not?”
“There’s naught to be concerned about. Anne is no innocent straight out of the school room. She knows her way about Town and how to avoid prying eyes. She promised not to be gone for too long. She simply wished to run an errand on her own.”
“The words ‘simply’ and ‘Anne’ are not congruent. I’ll escort you back to the coach, and then I’ll track the minx down.
” They made their way down a side street to where the Guernsey coach awaited them.
As he handed his mama over to the waiting footman, he bent at the waist and asked, “Won’t you at least give me a clue as to which direction Anne might have ventured off to? ”
“You know her better than I do. I suggest you do not dally any more than necessary. Even though she is on foot, she has a significant start on you.”
Women!
Warren turned about and retraced his steps back to the modiste. He’d been posted facing the south, which meant Anne had ventured north. He stopped mid-stride and turned back around.
I would have seen Anne leave the modiste earlier…
wouldn’t I? Blast. It was quite possible that Anne had slipped past him without notice.
After all, his thoughts had been on the fascinating Miss Olivia.
Bloody Hell. The last thing Warren needed was another lady to drive him to distraction.
Hands fisted behind his back, Warren marched forward, determined to track Anne down post haste.
Wandering the streets of Mayfair by instinct alone, Warren found himself headed down Park Lane.
It had been surprisingly easy for him to think like the girl who had been his constant companion since the incident.
In fact, her voice was so ingrained he could hear her answers to his questions even if she wasn’t physically present.
Anne had returned from her travels for a friend.
A friend whose name she had not cared to share.
Thus, he would wager she would strategize a way for it to appear that they were to meet upon happenstance.
Promenading Hyde Park would be the perfect solution.
He walked through the main gates and searched for Anne.
Nodding to acquaintances as he strolled past them, granting friends brief smiles but not stopping, Warren found himself marching away from the main thoroughfare and into quieter sections of the park.
A fluttering of red in the sky caught his attention. Anne loved to fly kites.
Focused on the object above, he wasn’t paying much heed to where he was walking until a peal of female laughter drew his attention.
Eyes squinted, he narrowed his gaze upon two ladies with their skirts hiked up above their ankles.
Transfixed on the sight, Warren treaded closer, and to his utter shock, he recognized Lady Charlotte running alongside the very same Miss Olivia he’d mused over, in what looked like a foot race.
What in the blazes were the pair up to? In order not to be discovered, he ducked behind a tree to observe.
The ladies appeared to have arrived at their chosen finish line because, with hands on her knees and bent at the waist, Lady Charlotte laughed and declared, “I won.”
Miss Olivia stood in front of the countess with her hands on her hips, chest heaving, and a broad smile that stole Warren’s breath. “Are you certain?”
“Are you questioning me?” Lady Charlotte asked between gulping breaths.
“I would never!” Both women broke out into laughter.
The glint of sunlight off a necklace prompted Warren to move forward and leave the safety of the tree. Dangling free about Miss Olivia’s neck was his signet ring.
He’d found her!
Miss Olivia is my angel. A wave of relief and anticipation rolled through him.
“Lord Guernsey! What say you? I reached the tree first, did I not?” Lady Charlotte came to stand next to him.
She had been labeled a hoyden when she was younger and appeared to still display the traits of which she’d been accused, having been orphaned at a young age and left alone for long periods by her brother the Duke of Avondale.
“Pray confirm for me who indeed was the winner, for my dear friend, Miss Olivia, and I have wagered upon the outcome.” The countess wrapped an arm about her companion, whose cheeks were flushed and eyes sparkling.
“Is that so? And this wager is of great import?” he answered, before thinking it might be wiser to remain uninvolved.
“Hmm. I suppose that depends on who won.” Lady Charlotte gave Miss Olivia a tight squeeze.
His gaze fell to his signet ring nestled between the valley of Miss Olivia’s bosoms. Bosoms. He’d been searching for a girl for a decade, only to be now faced with an alluring lady who caused his heart to beat faster the longer he was in her presence.
He forced himself to raise his gaze, which was met with a daring glare from the lady he owed.
Shifting his attention to the countess, he said, “Lady Charlotte…” His voice cracked, and he paused to clear his throat before continuing, “I’m sorry to inform you but Miss Olivia reached the tree a smidgen before you did.”
“Are you absolutely certain, Lord Guernsey?” Miss Olivia asked, her head half-cocked to the side, giving him a perfect view of her elegant neck and the silver chain he had longed to have again, if the woman wearing it came with it.
“I am.”
Miss Olivia elbowed Lady Charlotte in the ribs. She let out an exaggerated, “Ow.” Rubbing her side, the countess added, “Lord Guernsey, I’ve a confession to make. I’ve promised Miss Olivia here to tell you the truth…”
He raised a hand, halting Lady Charlotte mid-speech.
“Lady Charlotte, having lived with two willful women for the majority of my life, I know better than to become embroiled in such matters.
Confessions rarely bring about resolution, and the truth is dependent upon a person's perspective. You owe me no explanations.”
“See, Miss Olivia, you were worried for naught. I told you Lord Guernsey posed no threat.” Lady Charlotte quickly bid him a good day and practically dragged Miss Olivia, who was staring back over her shoulder at him as if he’d betrayed her somehow, away.
He watched the women depart and hoped they stayed out of mischief. Women who raced in the park with their ankles exposed for all the ton to see surely were up to no good on their own.
But now that he’d found his angel, he needed a plan. A plan to become reacquainted with her. Miss Olivia must surely remember him, since she still wore his signet ring on a chain about her neck. Or had she too fell ill with a fever after fishing him out of the pond?
As soon as the ladies disappeared down the crowded path, Warren searched the sky for the kite. He needed to find Anne. She would know what to do next. Except there was nothing in sight but big, white, puffy clouds.
Perhaps she’d made her way home. He began striding across the park back toward the entrance where he spied Anne casually strolling along the path up ahead.
Of course, she was alone, unaccompanied and unchaperoned.
Her normally perfect posture was absent, her shoulders ever so slightly rolled forward. Anne was upset.
He rushed toward her, wanting to share his news with her and hoping she’d finally share the real reason for her return from the Continent.