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Chapter Five

A nna didn’t wait to see if Caden glanced over his shoulder. She dove into the night-dark antechamber and slung the door closed behind her with more force than was, strictly speaking, necessary.

Fumbling in the pitch blackness, she struck a match, cupped the flame—with shaking fingers, blast it—and lit the sconces framing the draped oriel window.

Bathed in the soft glow illuminating the chamber, she stripped off the beautiful gold silk gown she’d borrowed for the evening. Rehanging the dress, she smoothed her hands over the fine material. She'd felt a bit like a princess wearing it. Even Lady Wentworth had exclaimed over her appearance.

Dear God, Lady Wentworth. She’d been so preoccupied with Caden, she’d failed to consider the fine fettle she’d gotten herself into.

What would Lady Wentworth say regarding Anna’s blatant disregard of her explicit directive? More to the point, what would she do ?

Irrespective of the undergarments she still wore, Anna paced the small space, her mind racing anew.

The dowager duchess had her quirks, some might argue flaws.

Particular, demanding, eccentric, reclusive.

But she was also fair-minded. Anna had never known her to sack one of her employees for a minor infraction.

The question was, would she consider Anna ignoring an express order minor ? Anna thought not. She paused in the middle of the room to cover her eyes with one hand and tried to imagine Lady Wentworth’s reaction.

She would be disappointed. Maybe hurt? That thought alone settled in her stomach like a brick. She might have—all right did have— a tough exterior, but she always treated Anna like a member of her inner circle.

She slumped into an armchair and stared morosely at her stockinged feet. In the two years of her employ, never once had Anna been the recipient of the lady’s wrath, and this was how she repaid her kindness.

How intimidated she’d felt interviewing for the post of companion to the dowager, owing primarily to her made-up references, or rather the fact they’d not, apparently, passed muster.

Witness the minor noblewoman who had hired her prior to Lady Wentworth only to summarily rescind her offer of employment a day later.

The placement agency gave no explanation for the client’s retraction, and Anna hadn’t asked. She hardly wanted to draw attention to the most likely reason. Her potential employer must have attempted to verify her falsified letters of recommendation.

Oddly, the agency had not sent her packing. Instead, they informed her she would soon interview for the post of companion to the highest-ranking member of society she’d ever lain eyes upon .

The pinched-faced agents had taken great pains to warn her of the noted recluse’s exacting standards. They did not have to spell out the obvious: Anna stood little chance of securing the post.

Yet to their mutual surprise, Lady Wentworth hired her on sight. When they boarded the Wentworth travel coach bound for Northumberland the very same day, Anna silently surmised the lady had filled the post in haste and thus had no time to check her references. She could only thank her lucky stars.

For two years since, Lady Wentworth’s exclusionary world had provided a haven of safety for Anna.

The unexpected boon was the bond which had sprung up between them almost instantly.

Lady Wentworth felt like home to her, and she liked to think her presence added something worthwhile to her employer’s life.

Tonight, thanks to losing her head over Caden, thanks to indulging her silly, fanciful holdover dreams from childhood where she was the princess and Caden her prince, she’d jeopardized all of that.

She could practically see her mother shaking her head in that I-told-you-so way she so disliked.

She couldn’t undo what had been done. She’d do the next best thing. She would apologize to Lady Wentworth the first chance she got, pray for a second chance, and hope she still held her position come morning.

***

The groan of a door hinge sent Anna half out of the wingback chair where she dozed.

Heart racing, she gripped the armrests and glanced around the dimly lit chamber anticipating the sight of dust-covered velvet drapes, a sagging gold-tasseled canopy over a lumpy four post bed--and the scowling face of Angelique, her father's widow.

The stuttering candlelight instead revealed rose and cream papered walls, a large wardrobe and folded cot, and Lady Wentworth coming through the chamber door. Relief swept through her as the nightmare's tentacles receded.

Then she remembered the mess she'd created.

Knuckling her eyes, she sat upright and braced for her comeuppance.

“Good evening, Lady Wentworth.”

"Anna." The older woman moved toward her, peeling off her kidskin gloves.

“I suppose you’re wondering what happened tonight?” Anna queried in a small voice.

Lady Wentworth settled herself on an adjacent chair. “I might have done, if not for the enlightening conversation I had with a certain handsome gentleman with the devil’s own charm. I believe you know the one?”

She believed she did. Unfortunately, she had no idea what he might have said. “I…see.”

“He told all and sundry how he stumbled while leading you to the dining hall. Claimed he suffered a bout of dizziness due to his recent head injury.” She cocked her head slightly, a considering look on her face. “Shame he laid you out in the process.”

“Me?” she yelped. “Laid out?”

Lady Wentworth’s lips twitched. “Naturally the ordeal left you distraught, with no appetite to speak of, and you hobbled back here to recuperate. ”

“I see,” she said again. This was how he protected her reputation? By painting her as a clumsy invalid? Anna’s belly gave a low growl as if in solidarity with her indignation.

“Tell me, was any part of the handsome fiend’s tale true?”

Caden had provided a plausible excuse for her disappearance. But lying to Lady Wentworth felt wrong. “Perhaps he stalled due to a bit of dizziness, but he did not stumble, nor did I wind up prostrate on the floor, for heaven’s sake.”

Lady Wentworth gazed on her with a knowing expression. “An opportunity to flee presented itself and you took it before thinking it through?”

Anna twisted her hands in her lap.

“I could ask why. I could press you for answers, but I suspect your response would be your usual vagary. You do value your privacy. Reminds me a bit of myself."

Anna blinked. She'd never dreamt Lady Wentworth noticed her skirting any but the most innocuous questions relating to her past.

“I have developed a theory of sorts.” Lady Wentworth paused, as if deliberating her words. “Something tragic happened in your past, likely involving your late husband, perhaps even your parents. Now you’re playing it safe. Maybe too safe. Maybe even allowing life to pass you by.”

Anna couldn’t speak. Lady Wentworth had deduced a fair amount. More, rather than speaking to her in anger, she seemed to understand, even sympathize with her.

A fond smile curved the older woman’s lips. “Do you know why I wanted you to attend tonight's festivities?”

Anna shook her head and, curse it all, stared at the silver-haired dynamo through a misty haze .

“Because you remind me of someone I once knew whom I…” Her words abruptly halted. Her eyes lowered to her pale hands, clenched in her lap.

Alarm flashed through Anna. She hated to see the indefatigable lady distressed, much less on account of her. “My lady?”

The older woman shook her head once then leveled her gaze on Anna.

“It’s a house party, Anna, in the country.

Not all of society’s rules apply--especially not as concern widows.

Your husband may be dead, but you’re not, something a particularly dashing man of your recent acquaintance has clearly noticed. ”

An image of Caden as she’d seen him hours ago, smiling, hair gleaming, aiming those lethal blue eyes in her direction, flashed in her mind. She replayed the sound of his voice curling into her ear. “Your perfume…tantalizes me…”

With brutal effort she suppressed the sudden, fierce yearning swamping her senses.

“I have some understanding of what goes on at parties such as these, Lady Wentworth, and I thank you for your…” She broke off, searching for the word. “…concern. Rest assured I am quite content with my life as it is.”

Not precisely the truth, but not a total lie.

While she enjoyed Lady Wentworth’s companionship, she sometimes longed for something more—a husband, a grand passion, even a career of sorts.

Thanks to what she’d done—beginning with misplacing her trust—she could have none of those things. Not without risking her very life.

The older woman frowned in evident bemusement. “I see. I’m glad to hear it. Still. I can’t help feeling you’re missing out.”

Pressing her hands into the arms of the chair, she hefted herself to her feet.

“Now if you don’t mind, I refuse to spend one moment longer in this blasted contraption.

I swear, men designed corsets as part of a devious plot to torture the fairer sex into submission.

” Her words faded as she disappeared into the adjoining bedchamber.

Anna stared at the empty doorway. Her employer had let her off easy tonight. Her leniency was more than she deserved.

But what she’d suggested—that Anna might enjoy Caden’s company, without censure, at least for a little while—hurt beyond measure. Because Anna couldn’t risk the one thing she suddenly wished for more than anything else in the world.

***

Anna arose with the sun, despite suffering a sleepless night.

She relished her daily walks, breathing in the brisk early-morning air.

From the start of her employ, Lady Wentworth permitted the practice.

Anna showed her gratitude by not allowing it to interfere with any plans the lady might have for the day.

To that end she held to the maxim, the sooner she left, the better.