Love's Misadventure (The Mason Siblings Series Book 1) (21 page)

Bridget seemed to excuse herself from the group and slipped into the corridor toward the ladies’ retiring room. Now might be her only opportunity to speak with her!

She turned to smile at Anthony. “Would you mind terribly if I excused myself to use the retiring room?”

He heaved a sigh and nodded with obvious reluctance. “Very well, but do not be long. The first waltz of the evening will begin shortly, and I require you here to partner me.”

“I will not be long,” she promised. “Thank you.”

A strangely exhilarating anticipation ran through her as she strode toward the corridor. Anthony had kept her so long from conversing with her friends and acquaintances without his presence that she scarcely knew how to contain her joy at the prospect of being alone with someone else.

An odd sensation prickled at the back of her neck, and she slowed her steps down the hall. Her gaze darted from side to side as the feeling of being observed intensified.
Who could it
—

Before she could complete the thought a heavy hand clamped over her mouth and another wrapped around her elbow. It dragged her into an empty room, closing her into the pitch dark.

The hands released her, and Anna prepared to scream, her lungs taking a long, deep breath.

“Anna.” Lane’s voice echoed in the small space.

Her breath left her in a
whoosh
, and tears sprang foolishly to her eyes. “Lane!” She felt for his shoulders and pulled him into her embrace. “I have missed you, my dear friend.”

He was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat, pulling away. “And I you, Anna.”

“Do you intend to remain for supper?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Anna squinted through the darkness, cursing her eyes for not adjusting quickly enough. She wished she could see his face.

“Are you well?” she asked.

“Quite well, thank you. I had urgent business to attend to at the estate. We are testing a new till and different seeds this year. I hope for a plentiful crop.”

“Oh, good!” She smiled into the darkness, wishing she could speak to him form her heart. As trivial as the conversation was, however, she was simply pleased to speak with him again.

“How have you fared, Anna?” His voice lowered a fraction.

“Well, indeed. I have been quite busy planning the wedding,” Anna lied. Her heart ached.

She heard him swallow. “Have you set a date, then?”

Chapter 24

Lane held his breath as he awaited Anna’s response. His heart thundered in his ears. Her greeting had thrown his intentions off course. He had planned to confess his love, but Anna’s greeting of
friend
had cut him short.

“We have not, but once my gown has been fitted, we shall.”

His breath hitched, but he managed to exhale.

“Anna.” He hesitated. Perhaps this was not the time or place in which to profess his love. “Would you care to join me for a stroll on the morrow?”

It was her turn to be silent. He could hear her toying with the fabric of her skirts. “I would love to,” she said haltingly.

Relief swept him. “Shall I come for you at ten of the clock?”

“I
—
I would prefer to meet at the cherry blossoms, if that is sufficient
.”

Lane’s gut clenched. The last time they had met at those trees, his life had been torn apart. “They are no longer in bloom,” he stated baldly.

Anna’s lemon scent swept over him. He had to bite his inner cheek to keep his body under his control. Anna would not appreciate being rumpled in front of her affianced…the blackguard.

Anna shifted. “I quite enjoy their purple leaves.”

“Very well.” Lane’s lips formed a thin smile. “We will begin our promenade at the cherry blossom trees.”

His nerves jumbled and his heart flipped over as Anna pulled him into her embrace once more.

He’d missed her dreadfully—her charm, her wit, her humour, her unique perspective on life. Which books had she been reading lately? She was so clever; she always found the best novels.

“I must go,” she whispered.

Lane nodded, foolish though the action was in the darkness.

“Until tomorrow,” he replied.

She opened the door and slipped into the hall, leaving Lane distinctly bereft without her company. They had discussed nothing of consequence, and yet he felt lighter merely having been in the same space as her.

He was a fool for leaving London. He should not have marred their friendship with his hurt heart. He should have…
No
. There was no sense in wasting time on regrets. He must focus on the present and the future. He would walk with Anna on the morrow and give her both his heart and the truth. Pride and fear be damned.

* * *

Anna’s steps faltered as she neared the ballroom and heard the familiar chords of the waltz. The sickening knot in her stomach that had formed while she spoke to Lane tightened. She breathed a deep lungful of air, the scent of melting beeswax and the nauseating mixture of perfumes and colognes assailing her senses.

She smoothed her skirts with trembling fingers and rounded the corner into the grand ballroom. She saw Anthony immediately. He was hovering nearby, his expression vacant and his complexion a mottled red.
Oh, no
. He was furious. Anna could not miss the glinting rage in his eyes as he noticed her entrance.

Anna braced herself for a verbal thrashing and walked toward the devil. Before she reached his side, he came forward with a congenial smile. He put a hand on her arm and gave it a painful squeeze, though to anyone observing it appeared to be a solicitous gesture.

“Where have you been, my dear?” The steel behind his kind demeanour could not be mistaken.

Anna’s smile turned brittle as she looked up at him. “In the retiring room, darling.”

Anthony eyed the doorway to the corridor and stiffened. His hand tightened its grip, his fingers digging deeply like talons into her soft flesh. His head lowered, and his mouth touched her ear. Anna disguised her flinch by turning her head.

Oh, Lord
. Lane had entered the ballroom, his gaze finding hers.

“You lying whore,” Anthony hissed in her ear. “How
dare
you tell me falsehoods? Do you have any idea what I could do to you?”

Anna tore her gaze from Lane’s and faced the furious Anthony. “I apologize. He surprised me in the hallway,” she confessed.

The muscles in his jaw tightened, and a thick vein bulged on his forehead, running through its center as a bolt of lightning would the sky.

“A word in the gardens, if you please.”

Anna fought to keep the quaver from her voice. “Of course.”

He roughly wrapped her hand around his elbow and strode purposefully between mingling members of the
haute ton
and out the French doors to the terrace. She struggled to keep up with him as he moved swiftly past the terrace and into the darkness of the garden. They traversed the winding paths of fragrant rosebushes, orchids, and foxgloves to a secluded part of the garden hidden by shrubberies and trees.

Anthony released her arm from his grip, spun around, and slapped her hard across the face. Anna’s vision spotted as she fell to the ground.

“You
dare
to lie to me, not once, but twice?” he snarled. “You will learn your lesson, wench, and it will be my pleasure do be the one to teach it to you!”

Anna held a hand to her smarting cheek as she blinked back the dots. She moved to stand but Anthony pushed her back to the ground. She stared, aghast, as he removed his coat and draped it over a bush before lowering himself atop of her.

The realization of what he intended dawned on her as his hips pressed hard into hers.

“No!” She bucked her hips and pushed at his chest, but she was powerless against the strength of his heavy body.

“You will learn to adore this, I promise you. Not as much as I, but that is not my concern.”

Anna squirmed, kicked, and bucked, but Anthony’s weight would not yield.

“It is more pleasurable for me if you resist, my dear.” He licked her ear, the loud lapping sound making her stomach flip over in disgust. “Your movements excite me.”

Anna stopped, the champagne churning in her stomach. “Please,” she pleaded, helpless to do anything but. “Please wait until our wedding night. I will be more prepared for you then.”

He sneered at her as he ground the ridge of his erection into her pelvis. “I don’t give a bloody damn if you are prepared or not. I am having you tonight.”

Anna held back a gag.

He trailed his tongue down her neck and along the décolletage of her gown and a shiver of revulsion travelled through her. She let out a squeak of protest and swallowed another gag as one of his hands slid up her waist and cupped the underside of her breast. He laughed cruelly at her as he lifted her skirts with his other hand and ground his member into the soft juncture between her thighs.

Oh Lord, I’m going to be sick!
Anna turned her head in time to cast up her accounts on the grass beside her.

“Ugh!” Anthony leapt off her in abhorrence. “You disgust me.” He checked himself to ensure he was clean of vomit and, upon clear inspection, pulled on his coat.

Despite her illness, Anna was relieved to have him off of her. She rolled to her side and shivered in the cool air of the late June evening.

“Get yourself together,” he derided. “I am returning you to your brother directly. I do not want to contract whatever ailment has befallen you.” He straightened his sleeves and ran a hand through his wavy auburn hair. “And be quick about it.”

He stood impatiently several feet away, muttering to himself about repulsive sick women.

Anna brought herself to a seated position and breathed deeply of the fresh air. Despite a slight tremble, she felt better. She retrieved her embroidered handkerchief from between her breasts and dabbed at her mouth. Thankfully, her hair had only been mussed from the grass and not from her illness. The rest of her appeared to be clean but for grass and dirt stains.

She extended her hand toward Anthony, but he stared back at her with indifference in his malevolent green eyes. How had she ever thought him handsome?

Sighing, she struggled to her feet on her own. She straightened her gown and fixed the few fallen strands of her hair from her coiffure.

“There we have it,” Anthony murmured, as though he had aided her in righting herself. “Let us return you to Major Bradley.”

“Might I freshen myself in the retiring room first?”

Astonishingly, he nodded. “I will fetch your brother.”

He sped ahead of her, leaving Anna to walk alone to another side door into a long, dark corridor. It took her only minutes, but she found the ladies’ retiring room.

She stared in disbelief at herself in the mirror. Her face had narrowed; her skin was ashen and her eyes despondent.

How had her life turned so askew in so short a time? It felt a mere few days past that she and Lane had been kidnapped and dragged hither and yon at the whim of some scoundrel named “The Boss.” It felt months, however, since she and Lane had lain together.

With a tired sigh, Anna poured fresh water from a nearby pitcher into the large washbasin on the table in front of her. She dipped her handkerchief in to clean it, then dabbed her forehead with the wonderfully cool water. This evening had gotten out of hand rapidly. She had not thought that she would have been caught lying to Anthony, let alone attacked by him.

Another wave of nausea came over her so quickly, she had just enough time to reach the chamber pot before she once more cast up her accounts.

“Good heavens,” she muttered to herself.

“Annabel?” Charles’ dear voice came from just outside the door. “Annabel, are you well? Do you require assistance? I have sent Mama to summon a hack, but I could fetch her if you wish it.”

“No, thank you, Charles,” she called from behind the division screen. “I will be out directly.”

Anna replaced the chamber pot lid, then returned to retrieve her handkerchief. She wrung it out and placed it between her breasts. She scooped some water from the washbasin and rinsed her mouth out as best she could without tooth powder and a brush. She dumped the bowl out the window into the garden below then replaced it on its stand.

With one last look in the mirror at her pallid complexion, Anna quit the room. The moment she was through the door, Charles pulled her into his embrace. The comfort he offered was too much for her tried and tired emotions to bear, and tears sprang to her eyes.

“There, there, Anna.” Charles crooned. “We will have you home soon.”

Anna sniffled, pressing herself against his chest. “You are a wonderful elder brother, Charles. I do not know what I would do without you.”

“Nor I you.” He kissed her damp forehead and dabbed her eyes with his own kerchief.

He slowly led her down the hall and through the side door. Anna was grateful that he did not take her through the ballroom in this state. She could not abide the curious stares and probing glances.

“Where did Anthony go?” She looked up at Charles as he helped her into the hack—where she sat down comfortably beside her Mama.

Charles’ expression was carefully blank as he entered after Anna and knocked once on the ceiling. “Lord Boxton expressed his confidence in Mama’s and my own abilities to escort you safely home. He sends his well wishes for your health.”

Anna nodded, hiding her relief with great effort. She had certainly dealt with enough of his company for one evening.

“You poor dear.” Mama turned in her seat and laid the back of her hand on Anna’s forehead. “You do not feel feverish, thank the good Lord.”

“I feel fine, Mama. There is no need to be concerned. I think it may have been something I ate, or perhaps the champagne, that is all.”
Or it was the thought of being intimate with a monster like Boxton
. She smiled for their benefit.

“Regardless of how you claim to feel, Anna, you will be examined by a doctor when we return home.”