Chapter 3
Throughout the meal, Anna found herself sneaking glances at the marchioness’s son, Lord Pershore. She had nearly tripped over her feet when she walked into the parlor to see a strapping young man there, gazing upon her portrait. He had shockingly black hair, his eyes gray and without much warmth. His words were polite but a little terse, and she could not help imagining him into a story. Not as a hero. More a villain. Yes. He had plans to spirit away the beautiful heroine, and the dashing duke… er… the dashing hero had to save her from his vile clutches. Now when would the villain kidnap her? From where?
She could make him a pirate. The last time she had visited the orphanage, she had regaled them with several already-penned stories by other writers, but a few of the tales had been ones she had conjured in her own mind, and she had a feeling the boys might appreciate a tale told partially by sea. Yes. Anna could easily see Lord Pershore’s black hair fluttering about in a strong breeze as he stood on the deck of his ship. He wouldn’t be dressed as he was now. Oh, no. He would be wearing—
“Anna?”
Caught unawares, Anna glanced to her right at the marchioness and smiled broadly to try and hide her lack of focus. “Yes?”
“What do you think?”
Anna stared at her mother and sent her a silent plea.
“Anna is thinking about going,” her mother said smoothly.
Going where?
“The house party does seem like it will be a grand event,” the marchioness added.
Oh.
All of this talk about the house party. Jasper had no wish to go, and it seemed to him that Lady Anna shared the sentiment as she poked at her buttered bread. “Charity is wonderful,” she began.
Jasper grimaced. The idea of a house party, of spending time with so many people after…
He abruptly stood. “If you will all excuse me please,” he said stiffly. He nodded to them each in turn, grimacing under the disapproval his mother cast his way and ignoring the shock in Lady Anna’s wide eyes—had no one else ever dared to interrupt her before?—and he strolled out of the room and out of the house entirely.
Rude, yes, and perhaps rumors would start here too, as they did everywhere he went, but he could not stand another moment here. Not after what had happened.
Jaw lowered, Anna watched Lord Pershore leave. Had that been a flicker of pain she had seen cross his sharp but handsome features? She could not be certain. Her mother always did say that Anna should try to find the good in every person. Perhaps she was only trying to find a kind reason for his abrupt and rude departure.
“I do apologize,” his mother offered. “Jasper, well…” She shook her head and touched the gold chain at her neck. “I’m afraid he has had a trying time of late. But do continue, Anna. You were talking about charity; I believe?”
So Anna launched into her story, telling the marchioness about her work for the orphanage, how she tried to brighten the children’s lives any way she could.
“Last year, my Anna raised enough money and donated cloth to either purchase new or mend old coats for every child. She has a large heart and a good mind.” Her mother smiled at her, but Anna only frowned back at her as a terrible suspicion filled her.
She wishes me to consider Lord Pershore in lieu of the duke. Instead of Benjamin.
The thought churned her stomach, and she found herself unable to take another bite. Ever since she had met Benjamin, two years ago, she had fallen for him and looked at no other gentleman with interest. It felt strange, wrong even, to think about another with marriage in mind.
I did say I would try to move on.
But with the rude Lord Pershore? Surely her mother would reconsider given his actions. And he had hardly spoken, too. Pompous, entitled, a true villain. Yes. He would kidnap her… Why? For jewels. No, a chest full of jewels! She would have discovered a treasure map, committed it to memory, and burned it, which would spark his dubious attempts to convince her to tell him. Not even a threat that he would toss her into the sea would make her talk for he planned to use the treasure to…
Oh, she really must write this story down so she would not forget one detail when regaling the children with it!
Trying to hide her distraction, Anna forced herself to converse with her mother and her friend until enough time passed that she could excuse herself. From her bedroom, she secured a quill and ink and some paper, put on her pelisse, and retreated to one of her favorite locales outdoors—a huge boulder beneath the shade of a towering oak.
Although her mind had been full of fanciful ideas while she had no quill in her hand, now the words would not come, and she struggled to write anything. She found herself looking at the sky, at the grass, at the trees… anything but the ink-splotched paper.
A figure came into view, and she recognized Lord Pershore. He was walking swiftly, head down, hands in his pockets.
Now where might he be going? Curiosity spurred her to leave behind her work, and she followed him at a distance to the stables, keeping out of sight. Perhaps her story was too much on her mind, tempting her to be sneaking about like this, but she wanted to see what Lord Pershore was up to.
Caleb, the young stablehand, had been toying with a stick, tracing designs in the dirt. He glanced up and dropped the stick as soon as he spotted Lord Pershore. “May I—”
“I do not need your help,” Lord Pershore said a little abruptly.
“Are you certain? I can fetch—”
“You can leave.”
Anna narrowed her eyes. Who was Lord Pershore to send their stablehand away? Because Caleb did leave, looking rejected.
Lord Pershore moved to the back wall and was reaching for a saddle when she could hold back no longer. She marched toward him. “What do you think you are doing?” she asked, her tone as sharp as his had been with Caleb.
The man did not turn around to face her nor did he respond.
“Have you asked for permission to ride one of our horses?” she demanded, hands on hips. Something about the man roiled her blood.
“I have.” His movements sharp and jerky, he saddled a horse and climbed on.
She reached for the reins. “I do not think—”
“Excuse me.” He forcefully yet gently secured the reins from her and rode off, leaving behind a cloud of dust from the horse’s hooves.
How dare he treat her so curtly!
Determined not to waste another thought on the infuriating man, Anna opted to try her hand at writing some more. After retrieving the items she had left behind in her haste to follow the man to whom she was nothing, she sought out a taller tree, the tallest one on their land, and sat beneath its shade. The garden was nearby, and whenever she stumbled over the words a hero should confess to his lady, she would always stare at the beautiful flowers, and the dialogue would just come to her.
Now, her anger contrasting with the beauty around her, the words flowed, and she wrote swiftly, describing in great detail just how vile and villainous the pirate, who looked remarkably like Lord Pershore, when she heard the thunderous pounding of approaching hooves. She watched, wide-eyed, as the horse reared suddenly. The tall, imposing, impressive figure of Lord Pershore was flung from the horse, which let out a loud neigh, stomped his hooves, and took off.
“Oh!” Anna gasped. She shoved her work to the side, gathered her skirt in her hands, and hurried over to Lord Pershore’s side. “Are you all right?”
He sat up and brushed dirt from his hands. His clothes were wrinkled and spoiled, and they matched the frown creasing his lips. “I am. Just go about your business.” And he waved her away.
She had knelt beside him but now stood as he climbed to his feet. “I was merely trying—”
“Go on now.” Again, he waved her aside. “I do not need anything from you.”
“Such rudeness!” she fumed before she could stop to think if that was a wise thing to say. In truth, it was not, but it was too late to unsay the phrase.
“Such forwardness,” he countered. He made a show of looking around. “No chaperone that I can see.” He dipped into a low bow. “Leave me be.”
Speechless, she stayed there, rooted to the spot, watching as Lord Pershore walked away in the direction the horse had run. He moved gingerly, and she knew the stubborn man had injured himself, however slightly. Why hadn’t he accepted her aid? Yes, there was no chaperone about, but helping someone in need could hardly be the source of scandal!
Furious with herself and with him, Anna once more gathered her items and returned to the house. She gave her pelisse to a maid and then hid in her bedroom until she heard the clomping of horses hooves. From the window, she watched their carriage drive off.
Goodbye.