Chapter Twenty-Eight

T he carriage careened to a halt.

Anna held her hair, careful not to upset the elaborate coiffure her maid had created earlier that evening. She hadn't the slightest clue how the evening might unfold—her father had spent the better part of a week convincing her to even appear at the ball—but she knew she wanted to look splendid. She needed all the confidence she could muster, and a gorgeous dress and a lovely, ornate beaded headband always helped.

Beatrice and David wasted no time exiting the carriage. Their excitement was palpable. Being locked away at their estate for weeks had nearly made them crazy. Sir John was equally as restless and eager. He'd taken extraordinary care with his ensemble. He wore an impeccable navy-blue jacket and plaid waistcoat, both tailored so beautifully to his broad, fit figure that they made him look half his age.

His fingers visibly trembled as he reached for the door. Anna knew he was champing at the bit to see Mrs. Wright. Delaying him felt mean-spirited, but Anna couldn't conjure the others' enthusiasm.

"It's time, Anna," Sir John said gently. He patted her knee with a heavy, comforting hand, something he hadn't done to her since she was a child.

Worry ran rampant inside Anna, coalescing into an uncomfortable, cumbersome ball in the pit of her stomach. "I just don't understand," she muttered. "Why did he do this? He hates these kinds of events."

She had asked that very question countless times since the family received the invitation. As suspected, Sir John decided against being sued and wrote back to Mrs. Wright confirming their engagement. He'd traveled to Newton Place only once before the ball, coming back to his children remarkably chipper. Whatever he had encountered there made him more than willing to move forward with the marriage, despite his earlier reservations about the scandal and its effects.

When Anna pressed him about Jacob, Sir John had maintained a tight lip. All he'd said was that the two men had come to an understanding, which Anna thought was beyond ludicrous. In the past, Jacob had had very little understanding of anything regarding Sir John. What had changed? From the very beginning, Jacob had been searching for a reason to kick Sir John out of his mother's life. Anna's past had provided that reason on a silver platter.

And yet now she was sitting in a carriage, waiting to enter a ball in the older couple's honor.

It made no sense.

But then, love rarely did.

And Jacob loved his mother. There was no doubt there. Perhaps the woman's persuasiveness had won over her son in the end.

"Come now, Anna," Sir John said. "We mustn't keep him waiting."

He urged her to rise from her seat, but Anna remained where she was. "Jacob won't be here," she scoffed, her voice unnaturally high, her panic evident. "He doesn't want to mingle with people he barely knows. He's probably in his hermit's cottage right now, scribbling the night away."

Why did that little picture make her heart jump? And why, assuming that he was not inside the large house, did Anna still resist leaving the sanctuary of the carriage?

"Perhaps he is done hiding," her father replied. "Perhaps he has grown confident enough to show the ton the viscount he wants to be."

"And what kind of a viscount is that?"

"Well," Sir John said with a huff, "one that has a profession."

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Honestly, daughter," he said, searching in his pockets. He retrieved a folded piece of paper and took his time smoothing out the wrinkles. "I thought you enjoyed reading the newspaper."

"I… I do… But I guess I've been distracted," Anna mumbled, accepting the page from him in a state of bewilderment. For long seconds she searched it for clues as to what her father was talking about. Then, in a tiny section in the bottom right corner of the page, a headline jumped out at her: Dutiful Wife Travels Long and Far for Love.

Anna ravenously attacked the ensuing article.

This author has heard of a love story that will, no doubt, go down as one of the greatest of the age. I've heard that Mr. Phillip Williams of Larkshire, son of the Right Honorable Lord Savot, has finally been reunited with his long-lost wife, Miss Indira Phule. The pair met and married last year while Mr. Williams was engaged as a clerk during a short and undistinguished time for the East India Company. They exchanged their blessed vows at St. John's Cathedral in Calcutta on 27 March, 1847 with only the bride's parents in attendance. How private and romantic!

But disaster was destined to strike the young lovers! On hearing the terrible news of his older brother's death, Mr. Williams secured passage for England at once. Due to his newly elevated position in the family, he was determined to leave India behind. Unfortunately for Mr. Williams, he also left behind his Indian bride.

One can imagine the misery and absolute terror that Mr. Williams faced when he ostensibly lost his wife before the fateful voyage! This author was told that the future baron was beside himself with grief during his painstaking trek back to England and moved heaven and earth to reunite himself with his love.

Luckily for Mr. Williams, his intrepid and resourceful bride was moving heaven and earth a little quicker. With the help of her family, Mrs. Williams, née Phule, boarded a vessel in search of her husband soon after he'd misplaced her. Learning our mother tongue during the arduous six-month journey, the seventeen-year-old woman swiftly located her wayward husband's whereabouts, and I'm told the reunion was one of breathtaking fireworks.

Love truly knows no bounds to those strong enough to fight for it…

Anna dropped the paper on her lap, blinking at her father. "Who wrote this?"

Sir John smiled. "Who do you think?"

"Is it true? Is Phillip already married?"

"It would appear so," her father replied, smoothing his auburn hair into place. "Though I think Jacob was having a bit of fun. No one misplaces their wife unless they want to."

"Phillip just left her in India? The poor girl."

Sir John humphed . "It seems his perfidy and horridness aren't contained to this continent."

Anna shook her head. "Why didn't you show me this before? You knew how worried I was."

He appeared to shrink from guilt. "I only saw it yesterday. I thought… Well, I thought that I would leave it for Jacob to explain it all to you." He peered out the window. "At the ball. The one that he's holding not just for me but for you."

Anna's heart seized. She wanted to believe her father. Every ounce of her being wanted to throw caution to the wind and share his optimism.

"But this doesn't change anything," she said. "Phillip can still decide to ruin us, even if he is married."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, he can."

"Aren't you worried?"

Sir John contemplated his daughter for a long moment. "I am tired of worrying about what other people think, Anna. I allowed my father's opinion to rule me when I was younger, and I gave up the woman I loved. I can't let it happen again. We only live once, my dear." His eyes twinkled as he laughed to himself. "That's one good thing about getting old, you know. You stop caring so much. It's an unexpected blessing."

Anna returned a winsome smile. "But I'm not old, Father."

"Yes, but you're smart—much smarter than I was at your age. Smart enough to learn from my mistakes."

Music drifted in from the house. It called to her like a siren's song. Jacob was a master of showing Anna his love with a whole lot of little things. However, it seemed that the man was capable of over-the-top gestures as well. With the amount of people crowding the front steps, it looked like he'd invited all of London into his home tonight. He'd put himself front and center. For her.

She glanced down at the ridiculous and colorful article. "Do you think the ton will ever accept him?"

Sir John sighed. "I don't think it matters to the boy anymore."

"Then what does?"

Sir John winked at his daughter and started out of the carriage. "Not what, my dear. Who."

*

Jacob couldn't stand it. His patience was at an end. He'd already greeted Beatrice and David, and they had been milling about with friends for the past fifteen minutes. Where was she?

Why wasn't Anna coming to him?

He pulled at his collar. The insufferable thing! He blamed the formalwear for his inability to breathe, but it was more than that. These people—his guests—walked around his home making polite chitchat, casting strange looks at him while they thought he couldn't see. They didn't know what to make of him or the fact that he didn't appear to give one goddamn about getting into their good graces.

That hadn't stopped them from answering his invitation, though. Thanks to his mysteriousness, Jacob was certain that few would decline—however, he hadn't counted on every single invitee to crowd his ballroom. It was a crush if he'd ever seen one. And he was the exotic animal on display.

He supposed he would have to get used to it. This was his life now. Like a young woman at her first ball, Jacob was officially out . But the mountain wouldn't seem as unclimbable with Anna at his side. Yes, as a couple, they would be subject to their share of gossip. People might always deem them a little too peculiar to be considered good ton , but that was fine with Jacob. He wouldn't have time to go to all their balls and musicales and dreaded picnics anyway, so it wouldn't matter if a few invitations never made it to his door. Jacob had a profession; Anna had her cricket club. And more importantly, they would have each other. Their life would be full enough.

If only the damned woman would get in his ballroom so he could start living it!

Finally, Jacob caught sight of Sir John skulking along the perimeter of the packed room. With a keen gaze the baronet stretched to look over the heads of the throng, clearly searching for Mrs. Wright, but the instant he met Jacob's eyes, he turned sheepish.

Jacob steered to him at once. "Where is she?" he asked, casting all formality and politeness out the window. Sir John was soon to be his stepfather/father-in-law and simply had to get used to Jacob's unpolished ways.

"She was right behind me," Sir John said quickly. "I thought she would come in, but then I heard her say she needed some air, and she just started walking!"

"Walking?" Jacob scowled. "And you didn't try to stop her? What he bloody hell—" His words caught in his throat as his mind raced to catch up with his rampant emotions. He ran a hand through his hair, the answer hitting him at once. "I know where she is."

Jacob pushed his way out of the room, toward the back of the house. "Dear boy, give her time. You can't leave your own ball! Anna will be here soon," Sir John called after him. "She just needs time to think."

"That's the last thing she needs," Jacob muttered. "She needs me ."