Desperate and Daring 02 - Belle of the Ball (3 page)

The next day, her family attended a garden fete given by the Marchioness of Dunwick. It was a beautiful afternoon, the buds of spring blooming and fragrant. Anabelle twirled her parasol as she strolled through the gardens with Hazel and admired the flowers and busy insects. Tucked in her sleeve were ten names of gentlemen of suitable title and birth to investigate. First on her list was the Marquess of Scorn. A likable fellow with a widowed mother and six sisters. He was tall and slender, his hair and eyes an almost exact match to hers. He was currently helping his mother to a plate of food and three of his sisters were in attendance as well. Anabelle left the gravel path and wandered over to the buffet table. She scooted in beside him and picked up a plate to fill. She waited for him to notice her… and waited… and waited. She couldn’t possibly select bits of fruit and pastry any slower.

His lordship was dutifully holding his mother’s plate while she took her time selecting morsels of food. Anabelle bit her lip in frustration. Perhaps if she drew her ladyship’s notice, her son would follow suite. She’s been introduced to the dowager before, so it shouldn’t be too odd if she addressed her now.

“The cream puffs are a wonderful delight, your ladyship,” Anabelle suggested and pasted on a sweet smile.

There was still no response from either target. Anabelle’s confidence faltered. She thought about retreating altogether. She bolstered her courage, determined not to give up so easily. She cleared her throat. “My lady, may I offer a suggestion?” It would have been impossible for them not to hear her now and very rude to ignore her.

Lord Scorn half-turned towards her direction and gave her a pathetic smile but didn’t even meet her eyes to acknowledge her. Anabelle bristled. Her ladyship leaned forward just enough to see Anabelle behind her son.

“Lady Anabelle is it? How delightful to meet again. I must speak with your mother this afternoon. It has been an age.”

“She would love to converse with you at your leisure. I wanted to suggest the cream puffs. They are an exceptional delicacy of her ladyship’s chef.”

“Oh!” Lady Scorn smiled in genuine delight. “Why, thank you. I shall taste one without haste.”

As they conversed, Lord Scorn had politely stepped back from in between them and now stood as silent as a tree. At his mother’s words, he placed two cream puffs on her plate and stepped back again.

Internally, Anabelle was peeved. He behaved as though he were a footman. Outwardly, she kept her serene smile firmly planted on her face. Perhaps if she gave him some attention it would draw him out? “Do you enjoy cream puffs, my lord?”

“My son is not partial to sweets, are you dearest?”

“No, Mother.”

Anabelle wanted to scowl. She tried again. “The strawberries look ripe and delicious.”

“Much too tart for my son, but I happen to adore strawberries.”

As if on cue, Lord Scorn added three plump strawberries to his mother’s plate.

“There is no delicacy here to match your radiant sweetness, Lady Scorn.”

Anabelle stiffened.

Lady Scorn turned with a gasp of joy as Lord Draven magically appeared behind her. He took her hand and made a grand show of bowing over it.

“You are a scoundrel, Lord Draven.” Lady Scorn gushed as she positively twinkled at his attention.

Anabelle caught herself narrowing her eyes. She shook free of her annoyance and focused on Lord Scorn, who looked on with all the amusement of a lazy hound.

“What sort of delicacies do you enjoy, my lord?”

He looked at her now, his mother’s attention fully on Lord Draven. “I enjoy heartier fare, Lady Anabelle. Smoked venison, for example, is a particular favorite of mine.”

Finally!
Anabelle wanted to cheer.

“I enjoy venison as well,” she fibbed. She ate it when she had to, but preferred other game meats. “Do you hunt?”

“Of course!” he said with a tad more enthusiasm and personality.

Anabelle was finally getting somewhere. “I will be sure my father includes you in his next hunting party. Our grounds are teaming with game.”

“I’d be delighted.”

Anabelle thought she saw a gleam of genuine interest in his eyes. She prepared to add a bit of flirtation to her next question.

“Dearest, I must speak with Lady Draven. Put the plate down and Genevieve can fetch me something later.”

“Yes, Mother. Good day, Lady Anabelle.”

And just like that, he was gone. Anabelle stared blankly at his retreating form.

“If I were you, I’d give up now. His mother poses a fierce competition.”

Anabelle didn’t bother hiding her displeasure. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“That’s irrelevant.” Draven shrugged.

She turned to walk away.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

She clenched her teeth and turned to face him. “To what do I owe you thanks?”

“I tried to help you by distracting her. You got all of ten words out of him, didn’t you? That is commendable. He usually can’t form a thought without the approval of his mother.”

This time, Anabelle didn’t respond. She turned away, abandoning her plate and retreated back to the table where her mother and sister sat. She mentally cursed Draven for his helpful interference. When she reached her seat, she opened her reticule and used the small pencil to cross off Lord Scorn’s name. She told herself it wasn’t because of what Draven said, but because of what she saw with her own eyes.

“Was that Lord Draven you were conversing with?” Hazel asked.

Anabelle threw her a glare. “You know who it was.”

“And before that? Who was that gentleman?”

“Lord Scorn and his mother, Lady Scorn.”

“Oh, yes. She is an interesting woman,” their mother added.

Anabelle didn’t respond.

Hazel gave up her attempt to pester her. “I’ve been told that Lord Dunwick has a new litter of puppies in the barn. Lucy is going to join me on a walk to see them. Do you want to come?”

Anabelle nodded. A puppy was possibly the only thing that could brighten her day. That, and hearing of Lord Draven leaving the country for good.

It was only a moment before Lucy arrived with Dorothea in tow. “Are we ready?”

Anabelle and Hazel rose, and they made the trek to the barn as another group of guests was leaving. Miss Craig could be heard begging her father for a puppy.

They entered the barn, its interior warm, and musky with the scent of horses and hay. A groom stood near the last stall and they stopped before the gate to look down into it. Six chubby little spaniels, three black, two golden, and one white with brown and black spots, wriggled against their mother and nursed hungrily.

“How adorable!” Anabelle sighed.

“Can we hold them?” Lucy asked the groom.

“They should be almost full, and then their mum can take a break from her duties.”

The ladies cooed and awed over the puppies until the mother stood and stretched and the groom opened the door to let her out of the pen. She sat for pats from the four ladies before leaving the barn. The groom handed them a blanket and stools for them to sit around the puppies.

Hazel was the first to pick one up and nuzzle it. “I think I’m in love.” They were still quite young, but their eyes were open. Anabelle picked up the multicolored puppy and cradled it in her arms. “Now I know why Miss Craig was begging for one.”

“Her father is notorious for his wolfhounds. I doubt he would let her have a spaniel,” Lucy observed.

“But how could he resist this face?” Hazel held up a little black pup and it yawned.

There was a chorus of awes from the four of them.

“Is it wrong I don’t find human children this cute?” Dorothea admitted.

Lucy laughed. “Not in the least. My cousin’s infant is a fountain of vomit. I pretended to have the sniffles to avoid holding him. My mother was smitten despite this, and Jonathan and I had to listen to a lecture on her grandmotherly wishes the entire ride home.”

Anabelle stroked the downy soft fur on the puppy’s head and wondered what it would be like to hold a real baby. None of her nearest family had produced any children yet. Her entire experience with children consisted of nannies pushing prams by the Serpentine.

“Are all infants so untidy?” Dorothea asked with a worried frown.

“It goes with the territory,” a man’s voice rumbled.

Anabelle actually jerked in surprise. “Do you ever make your presence known? Or do you prefer to lurk in the shadows,” she snapped at Draven.

He stroked his chin in thought as he stepped in the light before the stall. “Lurking in shadows does have its advantages.”

“Such as?” Lucy eyed him with irritation.

“Eavesdropping, for one. Seeing people for who they truly are rather than the person they pretend to be, for another.”

“Were you present when my brother received his disgraceful and hideous black eye last night?” Lucy changed the subject as she set the puppy down and dusted off her hands.

“I was, in fact. It was only a rousing bar fight. Nothing of consequence.”

Lucy rolled her eyes.

Anabelle did her best to ignore him. He seemed to leap from thin air at the worst moments. Anabelle wanted to ignore him, but it was impossible. His presence was palpable, a reminder to the kiss they shared, the hard body she had held tightly.

“I believe I shall return to the party.” She set the puppy down and hurried from the stall. She could feel their surprised stares until she passed out of sight. She reached the barn door and stepped out into the sunshine and fresh air. It was a relief, as was the distance she put between herself and Draven.

The door opened behind her.

She nearly jumped as the bane of her existence stepped out.

“Are you following me?” she said with panic. Not that she feared him, but rather she feared the emotions he provoked in her.

“It just so happens I was in the stable before you four arrived. But I feel we must address the obvious tension between us.”

Anabelle agreed. She could imagine the things Lucy, Hazel, and Thea were thinking after he obviously followed her out.

“It was very apparent to me, at least that after yesterday, we should not have any association with each other.”

“And I would agree with you, but that will be difficult considering we are part of the same circles.”

“That doesn’t give you leave to put your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

He had the audacity to look aghast. “When have I ever done such?”

“This very afternoon, earlier with Lord and Lady Scorn, and again just now.”

“I did you a favor.” He folded his arms over his chest.

“I didn’t ask you for any favors and I’d prefer you leave me the hell alone.”

Now he looked angry. “Stridently avoiding each other in public is far more suspicious than learning to rub along.”

“Be that as it may, I’m far safer avoiding you than doing any rubbing.” Her cheeks colored. She couldn’t believe she’d just said that.

She saw his lips twitch, but he took pity on her.

“I realize that our mistake yesterday makes things difficult between us, but for better or for worse, we will see each other at almost every major social function. I will do my best to not impede your husbandly goals if you will stop running away at the mere sight of me. I wish you no ill will, Lady Anabelle.”

She was taken off guard by his sincerity. She didn’t know what to say so she just nodded.

“Good. We have established a truce then. I will take my leave of you now.”

He slowly moved away in the direction of the fete and Anabelle stayed where she was. She wasn’t alone long before Hazel, Lucy, and Thea joined her.

“Do you want to tell us what that was all about?” Hazel queried.

Anabelle shrugged. “We’ve come to a truce regarding our mutual dislike. That is all.”

Lucy raised a skeptical brow.

“You don’t believe me?”

“We would have listened at the door, but Thea wouldn’t let us.” Lucy confessed.

Anabelle was so very grateful for that. “Well, you will just have to take my word for it.”

They looked unconvinced, but thankfully, Hazel came to her aide.

“We should return. Mother will be wondering what is taking so long.”

They began to stroll back towards the party. Hazel pulled her to a stop as Lucy and Thea chattered on ahead.

“What is it?” Anabelle groaned.

“Is this business with Draven about that rumor he tried to put about?”

Anabelle sighed. She had never kept anything from her sister before now, but she was not about to reveal yesterday’s kiss. “Yes and no. It’s in the past now. I just want to move forward. I am determined to find a husband this season and I don’t want a tension between him and me to cause difficulties. He understands that, thankfully. Given his friendship with Lord Rigsby and ours with Lucy, I won’t be able to avoid him. Tis better to simply accept his presence and move on.”