Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

ANNE

I hardly recognized him without flour on his face.

My heart picked up speed. It was early, most guests were still in bed, and Lord Kirkham had cornered me in an empty room. If we were seen together, especially after the events of the night before…I could only imagine the rumors.

“My lord, you startled me.” The muscles in my neck tensed as he took a step into the room.

“My apologies. I thought I would find this room unoccupied.” He strode closer. “But I am glad to have found you here.”

“I cannot understand why.” I gave a hard laugh, moving to the right. “A morning of quiet solitude is the best sort. I don’t possess the talent for providing enjoyable conversation before ten o’clock.”

Lord Kirkham chuckled. His grinning face was the shape of the portrait behind him. Not of the subject, but of the frame itself. “I don’t care for conversation either. We might sit together a while? Perhaps read a book?”

“Actually, I was about to leave.” I clasped my hands together, skirting closer to the door. “My hair is not to my liking, so I must have my maid arrange it again before breakfast.”

He scoffed. “That’s absurd. Your hair looks ravishing.” His eyes trailed down my entire figure before returning to my face.

The door was in sight, but Lord Kirkham stepped in front of me. “My lady, please, don’t leave. Take a walk outside with me.” His gaze drifted to my lips. My stomach lurched. It was easy to lower defenses at a secluded party like this. Lines were blurred, and rules became suggestions. Gentlemen became oafs.

“I don’t enjoy walking,” I blurted. I cleared my throat. “Out of doors, that is. The air is far too chilled in the morning.”

“Come now, it’s August.”

My chest tightened with frustration. “Good day, my lord.” I rushed past him and into the corridor. I didn’t stop until I was safely in my bedchamber again. I slumped against the back of the door, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. I had hoped Lord Kirkham would forget the kiss, but it seemed he had not. I groaned. He might have assumed I liked him since I had chosen to kiss him over Alexander. How could I remedy the situation? Lady Tottenham was likely proud of her work from the night before, and she might have even seen a potential match brewing.

She had chosen the partners. She must have wanted me to court Lord Kirkham.

Why on earth would she want that?

Perhaps I could tell Lady Tottenham about Miles. If she knew I was already in love, she might exclude me from her matchmaking schemes. It was also possible that she would send me home, deeming me unable to contribute to her objectives. I bit one fingernail in thought.

I delayed going downstairs for as long as I could. Jane delivered a schedule for the events of the day, and I read it before heading to the breakfast room.

Day 2

Nine o’clock:

Breakfast

Ten o’clock :

Gather in the hexagon room

Afternoon:

Luncheon

Various activities of nine pins, embroidery, and music

Tea

Six o’clock:

Dinner

Cards and music

I scowled at the space at the bottom of the page. It should have read: Midnight: await a dreaded invitation under your door.

The breakfast room was crowded when I stepped inside.

The air smelled of eggs and ham. My stomach grumbled. The sideboard was covered in pyramids of various fruits as well—nectarines, peaches, berries, and grapes. As I walked closer, I saw several tartlets, loaves of French bread, brioche, honey cake, and plum cake, all surrounded by an array of spreads and marmalades. Pots of hot chocolate, tea, and lemonade finished the display. After the elaborate meal that had been served the night before, I shouldn’t have expected anything less. I gaped at the assortment. I hardly knew where to begin.

In addition to one long table, another round table had been brought in to accommodate the many guests. In total, there were fifteen chairs, with Lady Tottenham at the head. I thought of the guests she had invited. Seven men, seven women. It all made sense. Birch House was a chess board. We were Lady Tottenhams pawns, bishops, knights, and rooks, and she hoped to spend the next month moving us strategically as she pleased.

She glanced up as I entered the room. Her hair was piled atop her head in tight curls. Pins with gems and pearls were nestled throughout, along with a plume of feathers. Her dress was a vibrant pink.

I had captured her attention the night before. That was not a good position to be in.

Hers was not the worst attention I had captured, though.

Lord Kirkham’s eyes followed me toward the sideboard. He missed his bite of ham. It fell from his fork onto his plate.

I filled my plate with a small bit of everything before turning back to the tables. There were several seats available at the long table, but the round one was more appealing since that’s where Lord Kirkham was not.

I took one step, then halted. Alexander was at the round table.

Still, it was the better option. Lady Tottenham and Lord Kirkham were a worse combination.

Mr. Amesbury swooped in and took a chair at the round table, leaving just one available seat directly beside Alexander. I stayed firm on my decision, making my way to the table. There was no reason we couldn’t be cordial. He was potentially my future brother-in-law, after all, though I had no intention of telling him that.

He didn’t seem to recognize me. I was under the cover of my married name. If he had paid attention in his childhood to my family or me at all, he would have known me as Anne, or Miss Dixon—not Lady Daventry.

I set my plate down beside him, sweeping gracefully into my chair. “Good morning,” I said, more to my plum cake than to anyone at the table.

“Good morning, my lady.”

A spatter of grape juice hit me in the face.

Alexander raised the grape he had just speared with a fork. His dark waves were more tame today. His teasing smile was not. “I thought you would have chosen a seat by a certain viscount.”

I wiped firmly at the juice on my cheek, throwing him a scowl. “I would like to avoid him at all costs, actually.” I spoke in a quiet voice, glancing at the others at the table. A pretty young lady, Miss Octavia Colborne, was seated between Mr. Amesbury and a man named Mr. Hatcher. They were engaged in their own conversation.

“That didn’t seem to be your intention last night,” Alexander said around a chuckle.

My jaw tightened, and I bit too harshly into my plum cake. I took my time chewing and swallowing before addressing him again. “I was trying to avoid the alternative.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

He took a sip from his teacup, brows drawing together. A man like him must have been unaccustomed to rejection from women. I hated to compliment him, even in my mind, but he was obviously the most handsome man of the party. Seeing him in the daylight, with his sharp jawline and intense brown eyes, I was even more baffled at how he was Miles’s relation. Miles had light brown hair and blue eyes.

Alexander sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Is it because he’s a lord?”

“What?”

He lowered his voice. “Did you choose him because he’s a lord?”

I sighed. “Please forget what occurred yesterday. I’m trying to forget it myself.”

“Well, I’m trying to understand what compelled you to kiss him instead of me. He’s a great deal older than you.”

“Well, you are younger than me.”

His brow furrowed. “How do you know that?”

I shook my head fast, realizing my mistake. “I assumed.” The difference between our ages was only one year—not noticeable enough to be assumed in most instances.

Thankfully, he seemed more focused on my rejection. “Besides being old, he had flour all over his face. What made him a more attractive option?” His tone was light, but he seemed genuinely curious. I had wounded his pride.

Good.

I gave a dismissive shrug. “The bicorn hat didn’t suit you. I couldn’t forget it.”

He shook his head with a grin. “You said they’re attractive on officers.”

I eyed him carefully, searching my mind for anything Miles had mentioned about him. We hadn’t spoken of his family since our courtship before I married the baron. It had been four years since I had heard anything about Alexander’s life. He had finished at Oxford, and then…

My memory leaped in triumph.

He had been seeking a profession in the church. I eyed him. Why was that so surprising?

“You are not an officer.”

He raised one eyebrow. “That is a bold assumption.”

“Well, I have no evidence that you wouldn’t lie to me.”

“All the evidence you need is in how dashing I look in a bicorn hat.” He leaned closer. “You are the one who lied about the required clothing for the parlor game. I should be doubting every word you say. It is you who cannot be trusted.”

I shot a glance at Miss Colborne and Mr. Hatcher. Did they know about the midnight games? Surely they would by the end of the day. Gossip was sure to spread in this house faster than butter on a hot piece of toast. “I simply don’t think you seem like the sort of man to be an officer,” I said. “Perhaps you would choose a profession in the church.” I never would have guessed it on my own.

He speared another grape, his brow pinching. “That was my plan, actually. But I changed my course.” His dark eyes met mine, matching the steaming cup of chocolate beside my plate. “I became a barrister. The law suited me more than a profession in the church.”

“That’s not surprising.” I pressed my lips together, shocked at my own words. I was not usually so outspoken.

He leaned one elbow on the table. “You have known me less than twenty-four hours, yet you seemed determined to think badly of me.”

I set down my fork with a look of surrender. “That isn’t true. You are still offended that I didn’t choose you during the game.”

“I’m not offended.” He scoffed.

“But your pride is wounded.”

He didn’t deny it, shaking his head in vexation.

I took a bite of nectarine, storing it my cheek as a smile broke over my lips.

He studied my face for a long moment. I quickly swallowed, wiping a droplet of nectarine juice from the corner of my mouth with my serviette. What was he looking at?

“How old are you?” he asked suddenly.

I hesitated. “Why do you ask?”

He gave a nonchalant shrug. “I can’t imagine why you haven’t been married off by now.”

There were multiple widows in the party, so I was surprised he hadn’t made the connection yet. “I was married for a short time. He died.” The words came out blunt.

“I’m sorry.”

I nodded, shifting in my chair. Guilt wrapped around my heart as it always did. The fact that I had never truly mourned my husband made me feel like a wicked person, yet there was nothing I could do to feel anything but relief. His premature death hadn’t been deserved, but neither had his treatment of me. Awkwardness hung in the air, so I hurried to resolve Alexander’s previous question.

“I’m twenty-nine.”

He gave a slow nod. “One year my senior. But you already knew that. How did you know?”

“I guessed.”

He rubbed the scruff on his jaw, reading every feature of my face. His voice dropped, deep and quiet. “If you are lying to me again, my lady, I will go to Lord Kirkham right now and tell him you have been longing for another kiss.”

I gasped under my breath. “You wouldn’t.”

“I think you underestimate me.”

I crossed my arms, no longer hungry. My stomach twisted with nerves. Did Alexander even know about my closeness to Miles and our previous attachment? The two brothers didn’t seem to be on good terms. I doubted they communicated about matters of the heart. What was the harm of Alexander knowing that we had once been neighbors? It was harmless, and it might even ease the contention between us.

I took a deep breath. “Very well.” I looked him straight in the eye. “I recognized your name. I have known your family my entire life, though you and I have remained near strangers until now.” I lifted my chin. “You would have known me as Anne Dixon.”