But she’d been a complete idiot. When he’d tried to broach the subject on the blanket in the woods, she’d put him off because she didn’t want him to think she’d tried to trap him into marriage. She would never do that. She’d given herself to him because she loved him, desperately, madly. She’d known it was a possibility that he might not reciprocate her love, and she’d told herself she was all right with that. Repeated it over and over again in her head, but she’d known it was a lie the minute she heard Jordan say he had no intention of marrying her.
And it wasn’t Jordan’s fault. He had never pretended to be anything other than what he was: a bachelor and a rake. She’d been the one to invent an entire other future for both of them. One that existed only in her stupid little mind. She’d been the one to tempt him, seduce him.
She doubled over in the fetal position. Oh God, it hurt. He obviously didn’t feel anything special for her even after all they’d shared. She was a fool to believe her affair with him was anything serious.
She sat up on the bed and hugged a pillow to her chest. The scent of lavender filled her nose, and she pulled her handkerchief off the nightstand and buried her face in it. She had gambled. Gambled and lost. That was her fault.
But she refused to chase him around as she’d done with Arthur. No, she was finished with chasing men. Now she mustn’t allow anyone to know about her shame or her sorrow.
CHAPTER 45
The ball that night marking the end of the house party was a blur to Annie. The refreshments, the dancing, the faces. She didn’t remember a bit of it. She’d searched the crowd for Jordan, but he was nowhere to be found. She wouldn’t go speak to him, of course, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking. She had the sinking feeling that he’d already left for his estate. She had no idea when she’d see him again. She couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing him again. And she hated herself for it. Besides, how would it be between them when she did? He would just tell her he had no intention of marrying her, and she would do her best to pretend not to care. No, she must forget all about him. Entirely.
But the loud music and laughter in the ballroom had given her an ungodly headache. Finally, unable to breathe, she excused herself from the group she’d been standing in and rushed into the cool, unpopulated corridor.
“Miss Andrews,
what
are you doing here?” Lady Catherine Eversly’s silky voice was unmistakable.
Annie turned to face Lady Catherine, her brow wrinkling into a frown. “Good evening, Lady Catherine. I didn’t realize you were here. I haven’t seen you at the house party before tonight, have I?”
Lady Catherine flashed a catlike smile. “Oh, darling, I came down from London just now with the most interesting assortment of people.”
Odd for Lady Catherine to appear here like this and say such strange things, but then again, Lady Catherine had always been a bit eccentric.
Annie tried to give the woman a polite smile. “It’s nice to see you. I do hope you enjoy yourself.” She turned away, intending to excuse herself from the other woman’s company.
Lady Catherine slinked forward and slid a hand along Annie’s sleeve and wrapped her arm around hers. “You didn’t answer, m’dear. Why are you here? You
really
should be on the terrace”—she raised her brows—“right now.”
Annie looked at her out of the corners of her eyes. “The terrace?”
Lady Catherine sighed. “London’s been a bore the last few weeks, and I was at a perfectly dreadful dinner party when the most intriguing guest appeared. The dowager Marchioness of Blakely.”
Annie searched her memory for the title. She didn’t recall meeting any such person during her come-out, but it was certainly possible she’d overlooked an elderly widow. She merely nodded to be polite. “That’s very nice,” she said, slowly extricating herself from Lady Eversly’s clutches. “I expect you enjoyed your visit with her.”
Lady Catherine rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to tell me you don’t know, are you?”
Annie’s brow wrinkled. “Know what?”
Lady Catherine watched her through narrowed eyes. “There were just a few interesting people at this entirely uninteresting dinner party and the marchioness was one of them. She sat right next to me. It took her less than five entire minutes to ask, ‘How is the Earl of Ashbourne? I do hope he’s in good health.’”
Annie fought her sigh. So some old widow was acquainted with Jordan. He knew nearly everyone in Society. Why should it be of any concern to Annie?
“That’s very nice…”
This time Lady Catherine stamped her foot. “Listen, dear. I told the marchioness that Jordan and a significant number of Society’s finest were resting at Colton House this week. The marchioness insisted we travel out here.” Lady Catherine shrugged. “She may have gotten the idea from me. I told her Lily and Devon would love to have us. So we all piled into a few coaches and here we are.”
The pounding intensified behind Annie’s temples. Whatever it was that Lady Catherine wanted her to care about, she was failing miserably. “I hope your entire party enjoys themselves and that the virtues of Colton House make it worth your trip. Good evening.” She turned away.
“Miss Andrews,
must
I spell everything out for you?”
Annie turned back around and plunked her hands on her hips. “What is it you want me to know, Lady Catherine?”
Lady Catherine tossed up her hands. “As we speak, the Marchioness of Blakely is out on the terrace with Jordan.
Alone
.”
Annie felt a bit of relief knowing Jordan hadn’t left, but she was quickly tiring of Lady Catherine’s innuendo. “I do hope they enjoy their visit,” Annie ground out between clenched teeth.
Catherine’s ubiquitous catlike smile spread across her face like jelly on a biscuit. “Miss Andrews,” she said with a sigh. “The dowager Marchioness of Blakely’s first name is
Georgiana
.”
CHAPTER 46
Annie froze like a fox in a trap. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The corridor turned into a nauseating blur of color and noise.
“Georgiana?” she repeated in a thick voice.
“Yes, and may I suggest you get out there immediately. The marchioness is a widow now, and unless I mistake my guess, she’s come looking for her second husband.”
Annie’s stomach dropped.
Second husband? Jordan?
No. It couldn’t be. “But she … she rejected him years ago.”
Catherine shrugged. “She rejected him when she got an offer for a more esteemed title. But now that she’s widowed, I suspect she’s trying her luck at becoming a countess.”
Bile rose in Annie’s throat. “No,” she whispered. She twirled around and made her way to the terrace. She glanced through the windows out the French doors.
There Jordan stood, his hair touched by moonlight, his broad shoulders accentuated by the perfect cut of his evening coat. His face was inscrutable, blank. It gave no hint of his emotion. She touched her hand to the glass. A movement to the right caught her eye.
That’s when she saw her.
The blond woman stood about ten paces away, a plaintive look etched upon her ethereal face. Annie couldn’t tell from such a distance, but she guessed Georgiana had eyes the color of bluebells. She looked like a siren come to life. And she was obviously pleading with Jordan. Begging him.
What was she saying? Oh, it was wrong for Annie to be watching them, let alone listening. After her little stint eavesdropping on Jordan and Charlie earlier she should know much better, shouldn’t repeat the behavior—detestable as it was—but she stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. Unable to leave or look away.
Lady Catherine sauntered up behind her then and Annie jumped. She clutched at her chest. “Lady Catherine, you gave me such a fright.”
Lady Catherine folded her arms across her chest and nodded toward the terrace. “Aren’t you going to go out there?”
Annie turned her face away from the doors. Pain welled in her chest. “Why would I do that? They’re obviously having a private conversation.”
Lady Catherine’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes. A private conversation you desperately need to interrupt.”
Annie squeezed her eyes shut. Lady Catherine was like the devil on her shoulder. “It’s not my place to interrupt them. It’s none of my affair.”
“Unless I mistake my guess, Miss Andrews, you are madly in love with the Earl of Ashbourne, and while you may not be inclined to eavesdrop, I have no such qualms. For all you know she could be declaring herself to him right now. Begging him for a second chance.”
Tears sprang to Annie’s eyes. “Why are you doing this? Do you enjoy torturing me?”
Lady Catherine took two steps forward and grabbed Annie’s upper arms. She stared her straight in the eye, a hard look on her face. “No, my dear. I’m trying to convince you to fight for him.”
Annie wrenched herself from Lady Catherine’s grip. She glanced out the window where Georgiana continued to speak to a stone-faced Jordan. The marchioness was beautiful. She’d been the only woman Jordan had ever loved. Annie couldn’t compare with Georgiana’s willowy grace. Annie was short and silly and had mud-colored eyes.
But she would hate herself forever if she didn’t at least try. Annie took a deep breath.
“Yes,” she whispered, touching the glass with her fingertips. “But I won’t eavesdrop. I’ll simply go out there and tell Jordan how I feel.”
Lady Catherine nodded. “I’ll come with you. For support, dear.”
Annie didn’t care anymore who heard or who knew. The conversation she’d overheard between Charlie and Jordan didn’t matter anymore. She loved Jordan, and she hadn’t told him so, and if he was going to choose that haughty blond beauty over her, he’d do it knowing he was tossing away her love. She might not look like a goddess, but she had heart, and spirit, and sincerity, by God, and that counted for something.
She straightened her shoulders and placed a trembling hand on the cool brass door handle. She pushed it open. She stepped outside into the cold night air, Lady Catherine close behind her. Annie took about ten steps and stopped. Wringing her hands, she opened her mouth to declare her presence.
Georgiana’s words floated to her on a breeze. “Oh, Jordan, I was a fool. I made a horrible mistake choosing Blakely. My life’s been miserable. Just miserable. We were never happy. Not like I was with you. I want you back, Jordan. I know now what a love we shared.”
Lady Catherine squeezed Annie’s cold hand. Her fingers were numb. It was as if she’d turned to ice. She was frozen. She couldn’t move. The ache in her lungs told her she’d been holding her breath, waiting for Jordan’s reaction, his response. She
had
to hear it. Had to.
Jordan shook his head. It was as if time suspended while Annie watched his reply fall from his perfectly molded lips. “Blast it, Georgiana. Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words?”
Annie watched from the shadows in horror as Georgiana flew into Jordan’s arms. Annie clamped her hand over her mouth, afraid she would retch. She spun around, heedless of Lady Eversly’s attempt to put her hand on her shoulder, to comfort her, or stop her, she didn’t know which. Annie flung off her touch and ran, fled, back to the house, through the French doors, down the marble corridor, past the ballroom, the guests, into the foyer. And straight into the arms of Arthur Eggleston.
CHAPTER 47
Jordan caught Georgiana in his arms. She’d come at him like a bullet from a pistol, but he firmly pushed her back, keeping her a good length away.
“No, Georgiana.”
Jordan stared down at her. The moonlight glinted off her blond hair. The years hadn’t been particularly kind to her. Worry lines creased her eyes and mouth and she was far too thin. She’d always been a bit dramatic too. He remembered that now. Always wanted what she couldn’t have. Always had a bit of the martyr in her. Those things had all been easily forgivable when they were young. Her beauty and her love for him—or what he mistook for her love for him—had caused him to overlook her many flaws. She cried when she didn’t get her way, just like she was crying now.
Jordan’s mind turned to Annie.
After all Annie had been through, she’d never once used tears to try to manipulate him. Even that night at his country house after the ball, when she’d been so sad about Eggleston’s defection, she still hadn’t resorted to feeling sorry for herself. She fought her tears. When Annie was confronted with a problem, she came at it from a different direction until she solved it, and he loved that about her.
Annie had an indomitable spirit, one that had her driving a coach and four, shooting a pistol with a sure hand, and defying anyone who stood in her way. Hell, she’d even eloped to Gretna Green with the man she
thought
she loved, not once, but
twice
. Jordan had always believed she’d done it out of foolishness, because she was so young, but now he realized it was because her heart was pure, full of love, devotion. Annie was nothing but sincere and brave. Very brave. She was willing to marry Eggleston even though he was a mere mister and not particularly wealthy because she thought she loved him and that was all that had mattered to her.
In the last month, Jordan had realized that Annie was the opposite of Georgiana. Fickle Georgiana, who had chosen the man with the most prestigious title, scorning Jordan’s love. Annie would never toss someone over for a better title. It wasn’t in her.
Georgiana looked up at him with wet cornflower-blue eyes, eyes that had once lingered in his dreams and tortured him. She shook her head. “No? I don’t understand.”
Jordan clenched his jaw. “No,” he repeated, his voice harsh.
She reached for him, but he stepped back. “But didn’t you hear me, Jordan? I made a mistake. An awful mistake. Blakely never loved me. Not like you did. I never forgot you all these years.”
She attempted to take another step toward him but he held up a hand. “Perhaps that’s true.” His face went grim. “But I forgot you.”
She pressed her handkerchief to her eyes. “Jor … Jordan. You cannot mean that. I cannot believe that.” Pulling the cloth away, she batted her wet eyelashes and gave him her most innocent look.