Page 12

Chapter Seven

C aden exited the gentleman’s wing en route for the grand hall and this afternoon’s activity, whatever it may be.

His plan had worked this morning. He’d intercepted Anna before she’d headed out for her walk and spent a glorious few hours with her. He’d kissed her as he’d wanted to from the moment he’d laid eyes on her stretched out on that lawn chair.

So why was he in such a foul mood?

Scratch that. Horrendous mood.

The fault lie entirely with the chit, Anna, or Gloriana, or Mrs. Jones, or whomever she claimed to be at the moment. She wanted nothing to do with him. He’d read her disinclination on her face as clearly as if she had spoken the words aloud.

And this was after he’d kissed her.

As to why her rejection mattered so much, he couldn’t say.

Except that it made no sense—especially after that divine kiss. He hadn’t been the only one affected by it, of that he was sure .

She’d practically melted in his arms. He could still feel her lithe body, pliant against his, could recall that elegant scent, uniquely hers, enveloping him, teasing his senses in a way he’d never experienced.

C hrist. He tunneled a hand through his hair.

Remembering the heaven of holding her in his arms was driving him mad.

Clearly, he’d been too long without the charms of a woman—between Zeke’s wedding and the tasks he’d taken on in Derby, not to mention this last minute party, there hadn’t been time. Yes, that was the problem. Whether or not he laid eyes on Mrs. Jones again made no difference to him.

He had wanted to see her expression when he revealed he knew her true identity—assuming he was right about who he thought she was. He was ninety-nine percent certain.

He merged with a handful of guests ascending the wide marble steps marking the entrance of the grand hall. Wading into the crush of people, he pasted a jovial smile on his face. This was a party, after all, and he was Caden Thurgood of Claybourne, the consummate party guest.

The room was blasted hot, and smelled of warm bodies—more than fifty at a glance—and liberally applied perfume. The muggy air sneaking in from outdoors had created a ripe, stifling atmosphere.

He tugged at his cravat and decided the knock he’d taken on the head yesterday sufficed to excuse him from today’s fun-filled activity.

He turned to leave in time to witness a liveried servant closing the double doors and sealing his fate. Nothing for it but to soldier on.

Movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention. Harrison, his young friend, stood in the thick of things, madly waving in a come hither gesture. The misses Applegate and Egerton once again flanked him. The prospect of fending off their advances held as much appeal as it had yesterday .

Pretending not to see them, he slipped into the crowd and started in the opposite direction. His steps faltered before his brain made the connection as to why.

Anna .

For a timeless moment he drank in the sight of her, slight and elegant in a fine yellow day dress, the furthest thing from servant’s attire.

She wore another unfortunate bonnet with an over-large brim.

Although he could not see her eyes for the bonnet, he caught the wry smile she aimed at her employer.

Lady Wentworth spoke in an animated fashion. Her narrowed gaze shifted about the room landing on this person, then that. Her accompanying scowl told him she did not hold the assembled guests in high esteem.

He wondered why on earth the woman had agreed to attend the celebration, family notwithstanding. Not that he had any complaints. Make that many complaints.

He shook himself out of his stupor, squared his shoulders and strode toward Anna and Lady Wentworth like a man fully confident of his reception. In truth his insides quaked like a schoolboy’s about to take his first pony ride.

The dowager spied Caden first. Her faded eyes twinkled in silent greeting, as if the two of them shared a secret. A moment later, she shifted and, to Caden’s eyes, purposefully blocked his approach from Anna’s view.

He was really starting to like the grande dame.

A firm hand clasped his shoulder from behind. “I say, Thurgood, did you not see me over there?”

Harrison. Caden had only himself to blame, standing there gawking at Jones .

Resigned, he turned. Harrison’s entourage hadn’t accompanied him, it seemed. He smiled. “Over where? I’ve only just arrived.”

“The ladies and I have a glass of champagne for you. Why’re you bound hell-for-leather toward the fringes of the party?” He craned his neck to look past Caden, then grinned. “Oh. I see what you’re about.”

Heat crept up his neck belying his casual, “I don't follow.”

Harrison’s come now look said he didn’t buy Caden’s act. “Unless you’re hoping to further your acquaintance with the dowager duchess, I assume you’re after her lovely companion, Mrs. Jones.”

“ After is hardly a word I’d use. I simply wished to express my gratitude.”

“Right. Because she didn’t catch your thanks the first several go-rounds.”

Caden scowled but didn’t voice a rebuttal.

“Jones is a looker, I’ll grant you that. But braving Lady Wentworth”—He scratched the side of his nose in apparent befuddlement—“It would take more than a pretty face to induce me.”

“Is that not your grandmother’s sister’s sister-in-law you besmirch?”

Harrison looked pleased. “You were listening. Quite right, my great Auntie’s husband’s sister, she is. So, you know my intel on her is beyond accurate.”

Caden glanced over his shoulder. Lady Wentworth’s stare, punctuated by an imperially arched brow, strongly discouraged further delay.

He turned back to Harrison, mouth open to issue a hasty farewell.

Harrison plunged on undeterred. “What my Auntie told my grandmother about Lady Wentworth, who told my father—”

“The Marquis? The paragon himself, gossips about the dowager?”

“It's not gossip when it's family history. Do you want to hear the tale or not?"

Not right now, he bloody didn’t.

Evidently, he didn’t have a choice. Harrison lowered his voice to a conspiratorial murmur.

“As my father tells it, Lady Wentworth—then Lady Greyson prior to her marriage to the duke—once had all of society eating out of the palm of her hand. Dad says she got invited to all the best parties and held court everywhere she went. How do you think she snagged Lord Wentworth? He could have had his pick. The bluest of blood ran through his veins. Ladies far and wide vied for his hand, they say.”

“Indeed. Listen, Harrison—”

Caught up in his account, Harrison continued unabated.

“In the early years of her marriage she didn’t hole up in Northumberland as she does now.

Indeed, for years she and her daughter accompanied the duke to London, staying the duration of the season.

Post season, they did the summer circuit, hopping from house party to house party. ”

A glance over Harrison’s shoulder revealed the imminent arrival of the misses Applegate and Egerton, the two cutting a swath through the crowd like eels through water.

Harrison’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Until one summer—”

“Sorry, old chap, your family history will have to wait.”

Harrison looked aggrieved. “But I’m just reaching the climactic point.”

“Later.”

He approached his quarry, glancing about to assure himself Harrison’s group hadn’t trailed after him.

They hadn’t, but damn it all if Lord Hardasher wasn’t skulking about, mere feet away.

He eyed Anna with a single-minded intensity that stirred Caden’s hackles.

He knew a lascivious glint in a man’s eyes when he saw it.

And what of your intent ?

What of it, he silently retorted. He had a history with Anna. At least he thought he did.

Lady Wentworth shifted, giving Anna a clear view of him.

She graced him with a polite smile, but he caught a flash of wariness in her eyes. Not exactly the warm welcome he hoped for.

“Good afternoon, ladies. What a pleasant surprise. For some reason, Lady Wentworth, I was under the misapprehension you meant to eschew today’s event.” He slid Anna a brief, speaking look.

The dowager gave an unladylike snort. “On the contrary, Mr. Thurgood. Evidently, your source underestimates my sense of familial duty.”

Anna gave the woman an arch look which she cheerfully ignored.

“Your duty is my good fortune,” Caden said.

“Good fortune all around, m’boy. Nothing like a handsome man to help pass the time, especially at affairs like these.” Her gaze flicked over the crowd, her expression pinched as if she smelled something foul.

She shifted her focus to Anna. Mischief glinted in her eyes. “Don’t you agree, Mrs. Jones?”

Anna’s face flushed crimson. “Is it warm in here?”

“Nothing a glass of lemonade won’t cure,” Lady Wentworth said. She inclined her head at a nearby footman carrying a silver tray laden with crystal glasses of lemonade and he started in their direction.

“I didn’t catch your assent, Mrs. Jones,” Caden murmured, emboldened by the dowager duchess.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

He laughed softly and had the pleasure of seeing her lips twitch as she fought an answering smile. Her rosy, eminently kissable lips.

Seconds later she cleared her throat and he realized he’d been staring .

He dragged his gaze from her mouth and sent her his most devastating smile, guaranteed to make a woman swoon if his friends were to be believed.

She all but rolled her amber eyes and very deliberately shifted her focus to the milling crowd.

He laughed outright. He was having more fun then he’d had in an age. Mrs. Anna Jones brought the playful side out of him.

Or rather, Mrs. Gloriana Jones. He had no further doubt this was she.

Standing with her head held high as if surveying her domain, rather than the hide-her-face-under-a-bonnet business she’d been up to, her demeanor finally matched up with her face, marking her as none other than a grown up version of the girl he remembered.