Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

ANNE

F ake Courtship Rules

1. Flirting is only allowed with an audience.

2. No speaking of a future engagement or marriage.

3. No kissing, even in parlor games.

4. Acting must be kept within the bounds of propriety.

5. No unnecessary proximity.

6. The ruse must end no later than the adjournment of the house party.

I set down my quill, blowing the ink dry. I was fully aware of what I had agreed to the night before, but still, my stomach squirmed. I rubbed my dry eyes, already feeling the pull of fatigue. Sleep had evaded me, and for good reason. My stomach had been upset with a mixture of twenty three bite-sized pastries and dread over my new role as Alexander’s ‘counterfeit lover.’

I folded the list of rules and tucked it under one of my stockings. Jane had already come to arrange my hair and help me dress in my favorite red gown. I chose an orange ribbon for the waist, a mauve shawl, and a simple necklace. I even put a touch of rouge on my lips and cheeks. My bold choices seemed to have surprised Jane, but if I hoped to win Lady Tottenham’s favor, I could begin by dressing according to her preferences.

Since I had passed the test with the ‘peculiar feast’ the night before, I expected to find another clue in my bedchamber at some point that day. Before heading down to breakfast, I checked outside my door for any sign of another clue.

I found nothing.

I would have to check again later.

I had forgone my attempt at early morning reading since the last two had resulted in disaster. Staying in my room to write my list of rules had been much more productive, and had kept me safe from Lord Kirkham.

I paused outside the door. The voices within made a fresh surge of fear wash over me. You can do this, Anne. Be bold. I shook out my arms, desperate for even a drop of courage. Had I made a grave mistake? Pretending to court Alexander could have dangerous consequences. What if rumors escaped the house party? If Miles was greeted in London with gossip about our attachment, he would never see me again. I drew a deep breath, my heart racing. It was my weakness to make a disaster out of everything. The fake courtship could be entirely harmless. It could make the rest of the party bearable and entertaining, so long as Alexander kept my rules.

I reached for the door. My hand was shaking.

“Good morning.” A deep voice reached my ears from behind. My shoulder blades relaxed as Alexander stepped up beside me. His hand reached around me from behind, steadying my fingers on the doorknob.

“Good morning,” I managed. I glanced up at him.

His hair was combed away from his face. “Are you ready?” he asked. His voice was close to my ear, and I realized I wasn’t ready at all. My heart hammered, and I ducked under his arm.

“I made the list,” I blurted. I looked both ways down the corridor before reaching into my stocking to withdraw it.

Alexander’s lips twitched as he took the wrinkled foolscap from me. His gaze flickered over the page. “No kissing, even in parlor games,” he read aloud. His eyes met mine. “Are you determined to take all the enjoyment out of this arrangement?”

I hoped he was jesting, but I could never be certain. Not with him. He continued down the page. When he finished reading, he folded the list and gave it back to me. “I certainly see room for improvement.”

I planted one hand on my hip. “How so?”

“I may require clarification as the days go on. There are some areas that are open to various interpretations.” A slow smile tugged on his mouth, but he corrected the expression.

“Please take it seriously,” I said with a frown.

“I am very serious.” His eyes widened, his mouth firm.

I tucked the list back inside my stocking before straightening my posture. “I don’t believe you. On which points do you disagree?”

He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I would argue that proximity is necessary if we wish to be convincing.”

My hands began sweating. I wiped them on the sides of my skirts. “Very well.”

“Keeping our acting within the bounds of propriety is also a bit…unclear. Lady Tottenham’s idea of propriety is obviously very different than the world outside of Birch House.”

“Lady Tottenham’s definition of propriety is not what I had in mind.” I clamped my mouth shut when I heard a loud giggle from the adjacent corridor.

Mrs. Pike rounded the corner. She wore a white floral morning dress, her mushroom brown hair pulled tight into a knot atop her head. Miss Octavia and Miss Victoria followed closely behind, revealing the source of the giggling. Both young ladies’ golden curls were perfectly shaped, both sets of identical blue eyes landing solidly on Alexander. Octavia’s neckline was deep, the bright sapphire blue of her gown setting her apart from Victoria, who always dressed in pastels.

I exchanged a glance with Alexander. At first, I wasn’t certain he would begin our ruse, but then I felt the weight of his hand on the small of my back. He applied just enough pressure to usher me forward as he opened the breakfast room door.

My pulse echoed in my ears, a flush already heating my cheeks. I had never been one for public displays of affection—especially when it was part of a ruse. Lady Tottenham had said it herself—the entire party was a game. A pretend romance was only fitting. I squared my shoulders, willing myself to be confident as we stepped into the room. Alexander leaned close to my ear from behind.

“Red looks lovely on you.” His breath brushed my ear, and I chose to ignore the leap my heart took at his words. Was he referring to my dress or my blush? I would stab him with my fork if it was the latter. I tried to focus, but several guests were already looking in our direction. I brought a demure smile to my face. The blush on my cheeks couldn’t be feigned, so I hoped it would add to the performance.

Immediately, Lady Tottenham glanced in our direction. Her mouth hung open, just inches away from her forkful of scrambled eggs. She lowered her hand, lips twisting into a victorious grin.

Alexander’s hand fell away from my back, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed. I cast him one more smile over my shoulder before walking toward the display of food on the sideboard. I felt his gaze on my back as I went, and then he was beside me again. We filled our plates as usual before choosing seats at the round table. He moved his chair closer to mine before sitting down.

I dared to take a look around the room. Miss Morton chewed on a piece of orange, a deep furrow in her brow as she whispered to her cousin. Lord Kirkham’s short neck looked a little longer than usual as he strained to see over Mr. Amesbury.

“Are you hungry?” Alexander asked, his gaze focusing on my face. The admiration in his eyes shocked me. How was he so good at this? I felt like a circus animal with the attention we had drawn as we entered the room.

“Not at all. I ate plenty of food last night.” I had only taken a small portion from the sideboard, but none of it tempted me. I would have been too nervous to eat even if I had been hungry. Mrs. Pike and the Colborne twins had finished filling their plates and Octavia was leading the way toward our table. She had never looked more determined.

Alexander took a slice of pear from his plate and lifted it toward my mouth. “Try it,” he said in a light voice.

I cast him a warning glance. “What are you doing?” I whispered through gritted teeth.

“Try it.”

“I am not going to eat from your fork,” I hissed.

The pear came closer to my lips, so I finally opened my mouth at the last second. I bit my teeth into the fruit in the least graceful manner possible. Juice dribbled down to the white tablecloth just as Miss Octavia took the seat on Alexander’s other side. Her icy blue eyes shot daggers at me. I nearly choked on the chunk of pear. I forced a giggle out of my throat, my stiff smile directed at Alexander as he ate the other half of the pear. It was all I could do to hide my astonishment.

His idea of propriety must have had no bounds at all.

If his intentions were to shock everyone in the room, he was succeeding.

I wiped at my chin with a serviette.

Octavia’s nose twitched. Her pale brows drew together.

“You look well today, Mr. Holland,” she said in a sugary sweet voice. She leaned toward him. Her gaze darted in my direction. Reading her stony features was difficult, but she did seem to perceive me as a threat. Her confidence wasn’t as high as the day before.

If I wanted Alexander’s help with deterring Lord Kirkham, I would have to play my part as well in helping to deter Octavia.

I swallowed my pride along with the bite of pear. “He always looks well,” I said, gazing up at him. Unfortunately it wasn’t a lie. I watched the sharp corner of his jaw as he ate another slice of pear.

His brow jolted with surprise. He rotated in his chair toward me, a smirk lifting one side of his mouth. Surely he knew I was acting. Perhaps he was surprised at my willingness to participate so fully in the ruse.

Octavia jabbed her fork into a piece of fruit. “I haven’t known you to speak so freely, my lady. You have hardly said a word this entire party. I wasn’t aware that you had an opinion of anything.”

Alexander bit back a laugh as he took a bite from his plate. “Lady Daventry has many opinions.”

Miss Octavia lifted her chin, which I noticed had a dent at the center of it. It made her more intimidating. “I would love to hear more of your opinions about Mr. Holland.”

Alexander sat up straight, a teasing glint in his eye that was surely meant just for me. “I would love to hear as well.” The edge of flirtation in his voice was just enough to deepen the crease between Octavia’s eyebrows.

My heart thudded when Alexander’s gaze landed on mine expectantly. I forced myself to focus on Octavia, since she was the one who had asked the question. I hardly knew what to say. My opinion of Alexander was as conflicted as it could possibly be. All the things Miles had told me about Alexander’s past were horrible, but they didn’t seem to match the man sitting beside me. Had he been reformed? Or had Miles lied to me? It didn’t make sense.

You’re an actress, I reminded myself. This wasn’t a time for perfect honesty, yet I couldn’t open my mouth. “I—I never wish to speak my opinion on a person unless it’s clear to me. I thought I knew what to think of Mr. Holland, but now I’m not certain. He’s a mystery that I’m still trying to solve.” I pressed my lips together. I needed to end with something flirtatious. “I am fond of mysteries.” I fluttered my lashes as I looked down at the table, feeling like a complete ninny.

Octavia laughed, a high-pitched sound that grated on me. “The only mystery about Mr. Holland is why he hasn’t married yet.”

Alexander smiled. “I do plan to marry when the time is right, and when I feel I can provide a woman and children with the comfortable life they deserve.” His eyes met mine. “When I do marry, it will only be for love.”

My heart beat a shallow rhythm. It would be counterproductive to our ruse to break the lock on our gazes, so I held perfectly still. His words were so genuine, I almost wondered if he meant it. Was he secretly a romantic? The contradictions in my head were far too confusing. Miles had always described him as a rake. Unfeeling, uncaring, and opposed to matrimony. Discerning which of his words were true and which were part of his act would be more difficult than I had expected.

Octavia’s voice cut into my thoughts. “ You have been married before, my lady. Did you marry for love, or for money?”

Her blunt questions made my skin prickle with vexation. Mrs. Pike and Victoria listened in silence, making no attempt to scold her.

“I married out of obligation,” I said firmly. Alexander hadn’t yet asked me such personal questions, though he must have been curious about why I hadn’t waited for Miles the first time if I was so eager to see him now.

“How could you have been obligated to marry? Was it your parents who forced you? Were you not yet of age?”

I didn’t plan to elaborate, but Octavia was relentless. She seemed intent on digging up my worst secrets in front of Alexander. “I don’t wish to share the details, Miss Colborne, nor do I wish to speak of my late husband at all.”

“How did he die?”

“Octavia.” Mrs. Pike finally intervened, reached around Victoria to grab her niece’s wrist. “That is enough.”

Octavia sighed, popping a grape in her mouth. Her eyes slid up to Alexander’s face, a coy smirk on her lips. She didn’t seem prepared to give up yet. In fact, she hardly seemed discouraged at all.

The muscles in my neck and shoulders were tense, and I realized how tightly I had been gripping my fork. Alexander’s leg nudged mine under the table. I met his concerned gaze just as Lady Tottenham called the room to attention.

“Good morning, my dear friends. I trust you all slept well.” I barely caught the fleeting glance she threw in my direction. She had robbed me of sleep with that chess game and those twenty-three pastries, and she knew it. She was happy about it, in fact. Her hair was a mixture of braids and curls, all piled together with violet flowers to form a bouquet. “After breakfast,” she continued, “we are going to gather outside.” A slow smile curved her lips. “I trust you are all familiar with the game of cricket?”

“Is a storm coming?” Mrs. Fitzbibbon squinted up at the sky as the group walked outside to the rear of the house. I followed her gaze upward. The grey clouds slunk across the sky, headed in our direction. Lady Tottenham didn’t seem concerned at all. Despite the lack of sunlight, she still had a parasol propped against her right shoulder.

I held Alexander’s arm, keeping him close as we paraded through the other guests. The brim of my bonnet shielded him from view, but I sensed him lean close to my ear. “Are you all right?”

I tipped my head up to look at him. “Yes,” I lied. Octavia’s questions had rattled me a little, and so had all the attention. Were my nerves so obvious?

The worry in Alexander’s expression caught me off guard. He wrapped his opposite hand around my fingers at the crook of his elbow. The gesture was simple, but it sent a jolt of warmth through my chest. “You’re doing well. Keep it going.”

I nodded. I stiffened in panic when I caught Lord Kirkham’s eye. He walked quickly, weaving around Mr. Hatcher and Julia in order to be closer to me.

Alexander’s lips twisted in a sly smile. “Untie your bonnet.”

“What?”

He tugged discreetly on one end of the ribbon, causing the bow to loosen. I tugged it the rest of the way until both ends hung loose in front of me.

Alexander’s eyes found mine again beneath the brim of my bonnet. “Now pretend I said something extremely amusing, and tip your head back with a laugh. Ensure your bonnet falls to the grass.”

“You already fed me a piece of fruit,” I whispered. “That is quite enough for one day.”

“Lord Kirkham is watching,” he said through closed teeth.

That was reason enough. I threw my head back with a flirtatious laugh, putting one hand to my forehead. I nudged the bonnet off, sending it to the ground behind me. “Oh!” I exclaimed, pressing a hand to my curls. I held back a genuine laugh as Alexander scrambled to retrieve it, biting the inside of my cheek.

He scooped up the bonnet just as I had expected him to. He stood in front of me, straightening the tangled ribbons. I felt the gazes of several guests on us—hungry for fresh gossip, to be sure. Alexander drew a step closer, placing the bonnet on top of my head with a slow, gentle movement. His soft eyes traced over my face. “May I?” He held the ribbons in each hand.

I swallowed, forcing a demure smile to my lips. “Yes.”

He tied the ribbons slowly, his knuckles grazing my neck. My body reacted to his touch, a shiver following each one. I cursed myself for noticing the sensation at all. A furrow marked the center of his brow as he finished the bow and met my gaze again. I thought he was finished, but then he traced the curve of my cheek with the back of his forefinger. “There. Beautiful, as always.” His eyes bored into mine, warm and gentle.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or smile or run away. He was far too good at this. His acting would convince anyone.

It would even convince me if I wasn’t careful.

I drew a deep breath, tearing my gaze away from his adoring eyes. They reached all the way into my soul, prodding around in there and digging up emotions I wasn’t familiar with. No one had ever looked at me the way Alexander was looking at me now, fake or not. It was completely unsettling.

A sound escaped me—a breathless giggle. “You are too kind, Mr. Holland.” My strained smile made my cheeks ache. Contrary to Alexander’s talent, I was not good at this at all. I wrapped my hand around his arm again, glancing at all the faces around us.

Lord Kirkham’s mouth was a firm line, his venomous eyes fixed on Alexander. Octavia glared at me, though Victoria appeared amused. Mrs. Fitzgibbon was all shock, her gaze bobbing in every direction like a startled pigeon. Miss Morton and Miss Rowley shared their cousin’s surprise, though Miss Morton stared at me like I was a thief who had just stolen the very dress off her back.

Lady Tottenham grinned.

We stopped walking when we reached the edge of the open lawn near the rose bushes and lemonade table. Cricket was generally a man’s sport, and did not sound enjoyable in the slightest. I fully planned to sit at the table with the women, even knowing that I would either be snubbed or interrogated. Either one would be painfully awkward.

I studied the field. It was empty. Cricket was played with a bat and ball, with two sets of three wickets set up at each end of the pitch. The lawn was not set up for a game of cricket. Besides that, there weren’t nearly enough guests to have proper teams, even if all of the ladies participated.

“This doesn’t look like cricket,” I said in a quiet voice.

Alexander looked just as confused as I was.

“Ladies and gentlemen, gather round.” Lady Tottenham’s loud voice faltered at the end, and she coughed into her arm. A maid rushed forward to give her a handkerchief. She cleared her throat, continuing in a softer voice. “I promised you a game of cricket, and that you shall have.”

“I don’t see a ball,” Mr. Barnwall said with a frown.

“Or wickets,” added Mr. St. Vincent.

Lady Tottenham laughed, throwing her head back in a similar fashion to what I had just done to drop my bonnet. The high-pitched laughter made three birds take flight out of a nearby tree. “There is no need for wickets or a ball,” she said, wiping at the corner of her eye. “How silly of me. I should have explained.” Her smile disappeared as she snapped her fingers. From behind the crowd, two footman stepped forward, each placing a covered silver tray on the table beside the rose bushes. Lady Tottenham’s violet skirts rustled as she moved to stand beside the table. “I have my own version of the game of cricket.”

“Of course she does,” Alexander muttered.

With a flourish, Lady Tottenham lifted the lid that covered the first tray. A set of gasps came from the front row of guests—Mrs. Pike, Octavia, and Victoria.

I stood on the tips of my toes.

My stomach sank.

Of course. The moment I heard the word cricket I should have known Lady Tottenham’s true intentions.

On the tray were dozens of dried crickets, spindly legs pointed toward the grey sky.