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Chapter Ten

T rue to his word, Caden located two more items on the game card as they made their way back to the grand parlor. Not that it led to any spirit of frivolity.

Anna made a pretense of enjoying the escapade—at first. Caden did not. By the time they reached the front half of the manse, the very air between them crackled with tension.

She wanted nothing so much as to kick him in the shins. She had hoped to revel in the memory of this last interaction between them for years to come.

Caden with his sullen attitude had ruined everything.

So she’d pricked his male pride by refusing his gallant offer of help. He’d done the same to her—with that kiss.

For her the kiss had been magical, bone-melting, heart-stopping.

He'd sprung away from her as if suddenly realizing she carried the plague. One minute he couldn’t draw her close enough, the next he shot across the room like lightning.

Had she done it wrong? She must’ve done.

She glared at his hard, gorgeous profile. She’d hurt him by not allowing him to sweep in and save the day, had she? Well, he’d hurt her by his rejection of her very femininity.

And she mustn’t forget that snide comment about how very much she seemed to have enjoyed his kiss.

“I take it the game is won,” Caden offered dryly.

Busy steaming, she’d neglected to notice the entrance to the grand parlor in eye shot. It appeared most of the other guests had reconvened. Excited chatter and revelry spilled out of the large chamber to echo down the corridor.

“Oh, mustn’t forget this.” He stopped and pulled something from his pocket.

Her crumpled bonnet.

He slipped it onto her head, adjusting it with surprisingly gentle fingers. He tied the straps into a bow under her chin, and, to her mind, lingered over the task.

The veneer of anger she’d erected crumbled in an instant.

“Thank you,” she whispered, ridiculously on the brink of tears.

Her . She could not recall the last time she’d cried prior to this weekend.

When her father had died? Since arriving to this infernal house party, she’d misted up twice, first, with Lady Wentworth, and now with Caden.

Hadn’t she learned long ago tears accomplished nothing?

He grunted his reply, and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow to lead her into the parlor.

She tucked her chin, anticipating moving through a mob of people.

Caden paused at the threshold, glancing around the room. Without a word, he heaved a sigh, ushered her past the bulk of the crowd, then stepped in front of her .

He was shielding her from direct view with his body. Even piqued with her, he had her interests in the forefront of his mind. How like him.

A hard lump formed in her throat, and she tried with all her might to swallow it back. No use. Her face contorted. Wonderful. On the rare occasion she did succumb to tears, she resembled nothing so much as a baked apple.

Thanks to Caden, no one saw.

Lady Fenton’s cheerful voice rose above the din. “Ladies and gentleman, your attention, please.” She paused as the room grew quiet. "Our champions,” she announced.

Applause rippled through the room, amplifying Anna’s misery.

In a moment she would say goodbye to Caden, in all likelihood for forever.

Oh, they may see each other in passing a few more times over the next several days, but, by unspoken agreement, the light-hearted flirtation which had sprung up so naturally between them had vanished.

Anger at her situation, the unfairness of it all, bubbled up inside her ’til she wanted to scream. Despite his sour attitude, despite his evident disappointment in her lovemaking skills, she didn’t want to say goodbye. Not yet. Not again .

She could set things right between them. Offer to tell him her dreaded secret. Allow him to realize on his own how impossible helping her would be.

Who was she kidding? He was Caden, her Caden. He would never admit defeat. She could not live with burying him under the mountain of trouble that followed in her wake.

She had to let him go.

She stared at his square shouldered, broad back through a blurry haze. Finding him after all this time, being held in his arms, being kissed by him, had been like stumbling head first into heaven. In saying goodbye, she may as well be cutting out her very heart. But better hers than his.

“You’ve gone quiet on me again.” Hands on hips, he twisted his torso to glance back at her.

She couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. Could barely choke out a reply. “Just wondering where Lady Wentworth got off to.”

“Probably resting in her guest chamber. Best if you run off and join her like the obedient little companion you are.”

A wry huff of laughter squeezed through the stubborn lump in her throat. He’d intended his biting remark to sting. Even so, the heroic vein at his core shone through. He'd spoken in a voice loud enough for her ears only.

She attempted a smile and cursed the stubborn quiver in her chin. With any luck, the bonnet he so detested hid her lapse in control. “Thank you for today.”

He snorted and shifted ‘round to face the other guests, stance wide, arms folded over his chest. “Not quite sure which part of today you enjoyed enough to thank me for. If you reference what I think you do, I can assure you, the pleasure was entirely mine.”

She meant to take offense at his caddish remark. Instead, his last statement lightened the darkness engulfing her heart. The pleasure was entirely mine.

If that were true, why had he gone from hot to cold in the blink of an eye? She must have done something wrong. Abruptly it was all too much.

She turned and bolted for the side door uncaring of who might witness her graceless egress.

** *

Caden felt the air of the still room stir at his back. He glanced over his shoulder to find Anna bolting for the small, servant’s door at the rear of the overheated grand parlor. He glowered after her. She hadn’t even bothered with a fare-thee-well.

But then, could he blame her? His attitude had grown increasingly snarky.

He may as well leave himself. He hoped like hell no one tried to stop him. He was not in the mood to fraternize.

Pushing past several guests, an image of Anna’s flight from the room replayed in his mind. Something about her carriage—skirts fisted in her hands, her bonnet-covered head more downcast than usual—plagued him.

No. He would not feel guilty. She had lied to him, repeatedly, only coming clean when cornered. Even then, she guarded her secrets. It was all well and good to allow him to kiss her. But trust him to help her out of whatever conundrum she faced? That, apparently, was out of the question.

Damnation, but she confounded him, like no woman he’d ever known. Tied him up in bloody knots. One minute he wanted to bed her, the next throttle her, the next run from her, then the cycle started all over again.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he exited the close confines and muggy air of the parlor and started for the bachelor’s wing.

What a bust this weekend was turning out to be. He’d departed Chissington Hall intent on having the time of his life amusing himself with women, wine, and winnings, knowing Zeke really wouldn’t like the latter.

Although, in fairness to his brother, a friendly card game would hardly draw his ire. It was the hells he disapproved of .

Damnation, why was he defending his brother, even in the privacy of his own thoughts? The point was he’d chosen the wrong woman with whom to form a temporary liaison.

He could sort this. Pausing mid-stride, he gave his waistcoat a sharp tug and turned to scan the thinning crowd. He would enjoy his idle, irresponsible, purposeless life. Blast, Zeke, and the earl, and Mrs. Anna Jones.

He caught sight of Harrison and waved. The younger man shot Caden an affable smile and hurried toward him.

“Thurgood, hardly seen you since we arrived. I say, old chap, why do you look as if someone stole your last farthing? Don’t tell me that head injury still plagues you?”

Blasted woman.

“Good day to you, Harrison. The knock I took? I hardly recall it now.” He resisted the urge to pat the tender crown of his head.

“Glad to hear it.” Harrison glanced over his shoulder in a conspiratorial manner. “Did you enjoy the afternoon with your new lady friend?”

Caden shrugged. “Fine.”

“She has a way about her that strikes me as…” He rubbed his chin. “Familiar in a way. Did she happen to mention if she and Lady Wentworth are distant relations? You know how often the well-to-do take in those family members whose fortunes have declined.”

“A common practice, I’ll grant you. But in this case, the answer is no.

The dowager went through an agency to procure Jones’ services.

” Caden arched a brow. “Frankly, I’m surprised you have the time to ponder yet another woman.

One would think you have your hands full with the two misses who haven’t left your side for the duration of this affair. ”

Harrison’s eyes gleamed with undisguised amusement. “No need to get your feathers ruffled. I’ve no intention of poaching—not that I’d stand a chance against the famed Caden Thurgood if I did. I’m simply curious. Collector of useless information, here. One of my many charms.”

“What utter nonsense. I’ve no claim on the woman. None whatsoever. I barely know her.”

He clenched his jaw, regretting his outburst. He sounded defensive even to his own ears.

“Of course not.” Harrison pressed his lips together as if suppressing a smile. “Any interest in a friendly game of lanter-loo? My brother claims you’re quite the sharpie.”

“Randall said that?” Was Sterling another one cataloging Caden’s so-called misdeeds?

Harrison took a hasty step back. “Maybe I’m remembering wrong. Look, Thurgood, if you’d rather not join us, it’s no skin off my teeth. We’ll make do.”

He had no interest in joining the game. Why enjoy a bit of sport when he could spend the hour sulking and obsessing over a certain vexing female?