Chapter 14
Hollystone Hall, Buckinghamshire
23rd December, 1812
The hunt was a splendid affair, from what Anna heard. She never watched one; she could never see the appeal. How Emily had convinced her to come and spend time here, Anna could not be certain, but she found herself looking everywhere for a certain someone.
“Looking for the Duke of Barnet?” a light-tenored voice asked from behind her in the hallway.
She whirled around, her heart beating fast and strong. “No, actually.”
Weasel Winderfield nodded with a smirk. He was prone to gossip, and Anna felt her cheeks flushing. She had encountered him in London at various functions, and she did not like the man and did her best to avoid him.
“If you must know,” she said, slipping back a step, “I was looking for someone else entirely.”
“Has someone else finally caught your eye?”
She bristled. The last thing she needed was for rumors to fly about concerning her. Many spoke about the duke as it was, and she would hate for Florentina, whom she did not know all that well, to become the source of gossip as well. If word were to leak out about her condition…
“I find it rather peculiar there was talk of Barnet having a quick marriage to his lady, but that hasn’t happened yet, not to my knowledge.” Weasel puffed out his chest, and immediately the image of a peacock flashed in Anna’s mind. “Is the duke having second thoughts? Is he finally willing to glance in your direction long enough to wish for more than merely two dances with you?”
Anna managed to smile. “You would have to ask the duke that himself, but I can assure you of this—I will not deign to be second in the eyes of the one I…” She broke off.
“In the eyes of the one you… love?” Weasel grinned broadly. “And who is it you love?”
“I must confess… he is not you. If you will excuse me.” Heart hammering, Anna all but dashed away. She ignored the onlookers and the questioning glances from other partygoers and hurried to her guest quarters.
Standing by her door was the one she had sought all along.
Anna smiled widely at him, her heart beating fiercely, and she suspected that was not solely due to her rushed flight to her door. “Lord Pershore. May I have a word with you?”
“A word. No. You may have three.”
Her cheeks warmed. Weasel had the right of it—she had been about to say love, but surely that had only been a slip of the tongue. She didn’t know Lord Pershore well enough to love him.
Yet.
She glanced up and down the hallway. It was empty, and she grabbed his arm and yanked him inside an empty small sitting room and shut the door.
“Lady Anna, what are you doing?”
“I wish to talk to you about a personal matter, and there are more gossips here than there are… Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“I thought I heard… a meow.” Anna walked around the sofa and kneeled down. Sure enough, she held up a small kitten. “Oh, isn’t she just darling?”
Lord Pershore was staring at her. “Yes,” he murmured.
Anna snuggled the kitten to her and tried to keep her wits about her. What she would have to say to Lord Pershore would not be easy, but said it must be.
She might risk losing him, but it would be better, far better, for him to learn the truth now than to hope he would never learn it.
Anna was petting the kitten, whispering to it, and the kitten was purring. Jasper imagined her running her hands over him, gently, just like she was the kitten, and he almost wanted to purr himself.
He shook his thoughts away. “Will you be keeping her?”
“Keeping?” She blinked her large beautiful dark eyes at him.
“Yes. I’ve seen a few of the other guests here adopt kittens. She does seem fond of you.” In truth, he was also growing fond of her. He wasn’t certain when he had started to change his opinion of her. Perhaps when she had read the story, or even before, when she had scolded him for being so crass. She had fire and yet compassion, a mix that was both warming and gentle.
Anna would never wrong him, or so he hoped.
“She is a dear little thing. A tiny butterball.” She giggled.
“May I?” He crossed the room in three long strides and accepted the kitten from her. The little furball ran up his arm and promptly sat on his head before leaping back toward Anna, who caught him.
“Oh, she has no love for you.” Anna giggled some more, but then something flickered in her eyes, and she even stopped petting the kitten. “Jasper, there’s something I want to tell you.” She took a deep breath.
He almost started to smile that she had used his given name, but a knot formed in his stomach. Her tone was far too serious, her expression too bleak. Whatever she had to say, she didn’t think he would want to hear it. And while he could easily interrupt her and revert the focus back to the kitten, he didn’t. Better to hear whatever may be the bad news and go from there, before he got too ensnared by her looks and intelligence and kindness.
“You can tell me anything.”
She winced and sat on the edge of the sofa. The kitten toyed with a piece of lace on her dress. “You won’t tell me what happened to you. Your mother mentioned you were in a bad place, and I would… I’m sorry. That’s not…” Anna swallowed hard.
He kneeled in front of her and clasped her hands. “Tell me what it is.”
She was trembling, the poor thing. “I know how you feel about gossips and… You know of Aunt Augusta?”
Jasper pulled back, allowing his hands to fall by his side and thereby releasing his hold on hers. “You are she?”
“No. My mother is.”
“Your mother…”
“Please.” Anna jumped to her feet. “No one else knows. No one else can know, or else my mother’s position with The Teatime Tattler might be in jeopardy. I am entrusting you with this secret—”
“Is this why you wished to…” Befriend wasn’t the word, but heaven knew if he could conjure up the right one. He was too upset to think clearly at the present moment. “You want to know my… issue… so that your mother could write about it—”
“Don’t be a fool,” she snapped.
The kitten hissed, hackles raised, but they both ignored the furball.
Her features softened, and she wrung her hands, a look of horror crossing her dainty features. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Forgive me. No. No, of course not! I told you so that you might trust me enough to tell me your story. And the reason why I want to know your story is because I want to understand the man standing before me. Because the parts of you that you have shown to me, I find intriguing and charming—”
“Me, charming?” He found himself compelled to believe her, despite everything. “Compared to the flirtations of Barnet with whom people continue to link your name?”
“Charming, yes, in a fashion. You told me you wanted to steal a kiss from me. What if, instead of being a thief or a villain, you could be a hero instead and receive a kiss freely given?”
He stared down at her, at the fire burning in her eyes, at the slender curve of her neck, at the perfect shape of her lips…
His hand shook as he raised it. His finger traced along her parted lips. He wanted to kiss her, he did, but he held back.
“I shouldn’t be here. If someone were to come in…”
At that precise moment, there was a knock at the door.
Anna’s dark eyes widened. “Don’t say anything,” she whispered, clinging to his arm. “Perhaps they will leave and—”
“Anna, open up.”
The voice sounded familiar, Lady Emily, if he had to hazard a guess.
“Hide behind the sofa,” Anna hissed, shoving him away.
Grumbling under his breath, he did just that and bumped his head hard for his efforts.
Anna walked over, sat on the sofa, and kicked her foot toward him. “Come in,” she called.
From his vantage point, Jasper couldn’t see much, but he could hear, and the ladies talked about Cedrica—a distant cousin of the Duchess of Haverford, whose house they were all staying in—and how they were making plans to help the poor girl choose a costume for the coming costume party that would attract the man she admired.
And then they talked of Lady Emily and Lord Tipton, and how the gentleman still did not seem to understand just how much Emily wished for his attention and affection. Perhaps he should have a talk with Tipton himself, although involving himself in the love life of others when his own was such a complicated affair did not seem the wisest of courses. Hopefully, Tipton would realize what he was missing, or else the lady would find another gentleman who would make her smile and laugh and feel treasured.
As they talked, his mind wandered. Yes, he greatly appreciated that Anna had confided in him her mother’s secret. It was becoming quite clear that she cared for him. He had thought the same of…
But, no. They were not of the same breed. Anna would not do anything to wrong him.
If only he could bring himself to tell her about his past, then he would know for certain if he had moved on from his past wrongs and if she might be the one to make the last of his hurt disappear.
This Christmas might just be what I need.
The thought of how smug his mother would be if he did find love with Anna Wycliff after all made him chuckle.
“What was that?” Lady Emily asked.
“A rat,” Anna said easily.
Jasper snorted at that.
“A rat?” Lady Emily shrieked.
“No, no. A cat.”
As if called for, the kitten walked past Jasper, her tiny tail tickling his nose before she darted forward and played with Anna’s skirt.
The ladies exclaimed over the kitten, and finally, after Lady Emily could not convince Anna to come to the hunt ball, Lady Emily left.
Jasper groaned as he rose from behind the sofa. “I thought you two would never stop talking.”
With a brilliant smile, Anna laughed. “You know us ladies. We do love to talk.”
“Yes,” he murmured. “So I’m a rat, am I?”
“You haven’t proved yourself a hero yet.”
“Because I haven’t kissed you?”
“Exactly so.” She crossed her arms.
“Are not heroes supposed to put their lady’s virtue above all else?” he countered.
Anna frowned. “Do you not wish to kiss me?”
He headed for the door. “Seek me out beneath the mistletoe and see.”
And he left her there, chuckling as he could have sworn she called him a rat once more.