Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

ANNE

M y vision lost focus, and the floor tilted up toward me.

She could not be serious. I blinked fast, bringing Lady Tottenham’s ginger curls back into view, followed by her round, eager eyes.

She was mad.

How had I not realized this before? I had always called her ‘eccentric,’ but not insane. Kissing games were for the rebellious young debutantes, not the respectable widows and gentlemen that were here in the parlor. My heart pounded, and my hands sweat through my gloves. I knew I shouldn’t have come down to the parlor. But if I hadn’t, I would have been sent home. I had no choice but to follow the rules.

“In this case, you may choose one of your partners to kiss.” Lady Tottenham’s voice echoed in my ears.

Whispers erupted in the room. I accidentally glanced at Alexander.

He sat forward, brows lifted. Half his mouth curved upward. That smile was far too confident. He must have assumed he was the obvious choice, and there was something about that smug assumption that made my skin crawl.

In truth, discovering that he was Miles’s brother was the only thing making my decision difficult.

Yes, Alexander was vexing, but at least he didn’t have flour caked across his mouth.

Lord Kirkham dusted off his face discreetly, eyes gleaming in my direction.

My hands shook. Everyone watched me, awaiting my decision. Alexander’s gaze burned against my already blushing cheeks. I gritted my teeth, urging myself to be composed. I never blush. It was only a kiss. My heart hammered.

The last man I had kissed had been my late husband. I had never understood why people enjoyed it so much. Because of him, I was not a stranger to kissing someone out of obligation.

Choosing Alexander was not a possibility. Miles and I had never even kissed in the years of our friendship, nor in the weeks of our courtship before it was halted. He had always been a gentleman. How could I ever tell Miles that I had kissed his brother? I couldn’t.

My choice was already made.

“Well, who do you choose?” Lady Tottenham asked.

I swallowed, my breath lodging in my lungs. “Lord Kirkham.”

I didn’t dare look at his resulting smile, but I did check Alexander’s face. His dark eyes glinted with surprise, then amusement. Hopefully my decision would lower his opinion of himself just a little.

I strode toward Lord Kirkham with as much confidence as I could manage. He stood to meet me. I had to appear like I owned my decision, not that I was deeply regretting it. The other guests didn’t bother to hide their surprise. Miss Rowley giggled, crossing the room to whisper something in Miss Morton’s ear. They both laughed.

I would have to have a word with Lady Tottenham in the morning, but for now, all I could do was kiss the brute in front of me.

Lord Kirkham chuckled, deep in his throat. “I don’t consider this a loss in the slightest. You and I are the true winners of the game.”

You and I ? I gulped. I planned to initiate the kiss, the lightest of pecks, but Lord Kirkham swooped in before I could prepare. His mouth covered mine, and all I could taste was the raw bread dough I had sneaked from the kitchen as a child. I wrenched myself free after what felt like an eternity, though I knew it had only been seconds.

I swiped at my mouth with my glove as soon as my back was turned. It came away dusted with flour.

I returned to my seat, my cheeks blazing.

“You have something just there.” Alexander gestured at my face, just to the right of my mouth. I swiped angrily at it.

His smile grew. I wanted to throw my fist at it. He seemed quite pleased to have had his revenge by seeing me humiliated. A bicorn hat and coat was nothing compared to this. I swiped at my mouth again, checking my glove for flour. Tears welled up in my eyes, and the reason was difficult to pinpoint. I blinked them away fast.

Memories surged through my mind. The baron was much like Lord Kirkham, boorish and arrogant. His kisses were just as unwelcome. He hadn’t been kind. He hadn’t thought of anyone but himself. My legs shook beneath my skirts as I crossed my ankles. A tremor had started through my entire body, and I didn’t know how to stop it. I prayed no one noticed.

Lady Tottenham was speaking again, but I couldn’t comprehend her. I was fighting hard to hold my tears at bay.

“Here,” Alexander’s whisper caught my attention. My anger nearly prevented me from looking at him. I squared my shoulders, jerking my gaze in his direction.

He slid a white handkerchief into my hand.

Had he seen my tears? My humiliation intensified.

“For the flour,” he whispered. “There’s some on your nose.” For a moment, I thought he was offering a kindness, but then his lip twitched.

He was still laughing at me.

All the stories Miles had told me about Alexander and the trouble he had caused their parents made sense. It made sense completely. I could easily understand why Miles didn’t like him, and why they hadn’t seen eye to eye over the years. Who could get along with such an impertinent tease?

He and Miles couldn’t be more different, and not just in character. Seeing Alexander’s face now, there was very little similarity in his and Miles’s features. If I didn’t know better, I would have never assumed they were brothers. Miles’s face was warm and inviting. Alexanders features were much darker, his countenance brimming with mischief.

“I hope I have provided you all with enough entertainment and romance for this evening,” Lady Tottenham said. “You may all be excused to your bedchambers. Sleep well, for the games have only just begun.”

I was the first one to stand. I forced myself to stand tall as I tried to escape the heat of the room. Lady Tottenham stopped me at the door, her wrinkled fingers wrapping around my forearm. “Please do not ignore my invitations in the future. I take my games quite seriously, as should you.”

I nodded, shocked by her foreboding tone. “Forgive me. It will not happen again.”

She released my arm, and I slipped into the corridor. The fresh air cooled my skin as I put as much distance between myself and the other guests as possible. My feet carried me fast, though I refused to ever run in public.

Quick footfalls bounded up the stairs behind me. “My lady.”

Drat it all . I had almost made it to the top. The deep voice was already familiar enough to recognize. I didn’t want to turn around, so after a pause, I continued walking.

“Are you all right?” Alexander’s voice came again.

“Yes.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Goodnight, Mr. Holland.”

He stood with one foot on the stair above him, hand on the bannister. The concern on his brow was unexpected. Had my emotions really been so obvious? It was a silly game, that was all. The kiss didn’t matter. As mortifying as it was, no one would remember it tomorrow.

I hurried to my bedchamber and shut myself behind the door. When I glanced at the looking glass, I flinched.

At least Alexander hadn’t lied. There was indeed flour on my nose.

A few minutes later, I stared at the dark ceiling, struggling to fall asleep. Lady Tottenham’s words would haunt me all night.

Sleep well, for the games have only just begun.

Kiss your partner.

Kiss your partner.

I tore another slip of paper from the bowl, then another. All of them read the same.

Kiss your partner.

Kiss your partner.

Kiss your partner.

I dropped the slips into the bowl with a frustrated sigh. “That conniving woman,” I whispered to myself.

Despite the events of the evening before, I still hadn’t been able to sleep later than sunrise. Lady Tottenham had encouraged all her guests to be free to wander and explore Birch house, so I had taken the opportunity to sneak into the parlor before breakfast. The bowl of forfeits had been left on the sideboard.

So I wasn’t as unlucky as I thought.

It wouldn’t have mattered which slip of parchment I chose. Lady Tottenham had ensured that whoever drew out of that bowl would have to kiss their partner. It had been her plan all along—all part of her matchmaking scheme.

I shuddered at the thought of that kiss. I pushed the bowl back to the position I had found it in. The longcase clock in the corner chimed seven times as I sat on the edge of a black velvet chaise. Three large windows let in the grey morning light, washing out the vibrant hues of the green and pink wallpaper. The lofty ceiling displayed plasterwork, an intricate painting, and a stunning chandelier. The entire house was a display of wealth and status.

My widowhood hadn’t granted me the same security Lady Tottenham’s had. The late baron’s house was in Wiltshire. After he had died, his land and property were willed almost entirely to his brother, with just a small sum provided to me annually based upon the success of the land. I had lived in the dower house periodically ever since the baron’s death, but it didn’t feel like home. Nothing did. My annual sum was growing slimmer. The income of the land was deteriorating, as were the contents of my reticule. I could not obtain a loan, nor could I obtain a lease. Soon, I feared I would be destitute.

I hadn’t breathed a word of it to anyone.

My sister, Henrietta, and her husband, Charlie had financial struggles of their own. They had married for love, even when Charlie desperately needed a fortune. If I grew desperate enough, I could call upon my friends, Timothy and Nora, the Duke and Duchess of Heywood, but that was a last resort.

Perhaps I had been a fool not to try to marry again sooner. I had been widowed at the age of twenty-five, and I had allowed four years to pass by, waiting, hoping. Waiting for Miles was all my heart allowed me to do. I felt imprisoned by the beautiful memories of love and security that I had felt with him. There were few men of wealth in London who would choose to marry a destitute widow of twenty-nine. The promises in Miles’s letter were the only thing that could save me.

I hadn’t known if he forgave me for marrying the baron. The emotions in his letters were difficult to interpret, and he had run off to the East India Company without a proper farewell. But now he had made his feelings known.

My stomach fluttered with a mixture of nerves and excitement. I stood and walked to one of the three large windows of the parlor. All I had to do was make it through the next four weeks at this untamed house party. Miles would laugh if he knew I was trapped in the company of his younger brother. I was sure he would also tell me Alexander was not to be trusted.

I squinted out the window, catching sight of movement in the courtyard. A man in a long black jacket and top hat made his way to a waiting carriage, valise in hand. I glimpsed the side of his face. He wore spectacles. Grey side whiskers peeked out from the collar of his jacket.

I hid halfway behind the drapes as he stepped into the carriage. Who could he be? A secret lover of Lady Tottenham’s? Nothing would surprise me in regard to her. She could have secret visitors, spies in France, anything was possible. I shook my head in bewilderment.

I still had nineteen days to go. That was far too many.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

I jumped, throwing the drapes over the window.

Standing in the doorway, one arm resting on the frame, was Lord Kirkham.