Page 30 of The Trouble with Anna

Anna would hate being a countess.

Julian deserved to choose his own wife.

Yet—did he really when he was being so cloth-headed? Charlotte would marry Anna in a second if she were a man. Or if Charlotte were a certain kind of woman, which she wasn’t. Mostly. Except for that one starry night at a masquerade with Elizabeth Darby, who had lips as plush as cushions.

Surely there wassomethingmore she could do for Anna, besides their gambling scheme?

But no! For once, she had to mind her own business.

Which left her right back where she started. In a muddle.

Muddling.

The main door opened below and Julian and Anna came in. He had his hand on the small of Anna’s back and she was staring at the ground, but her cheeks were glowing and so was—her chin?

Charlotte craned her neck. Forget stars in a woman’s eyes, it was burn from a man’s stubble that told the true story. Charlotte had significant experience with chin rasp on her own face at balls, operas, Covent Garden musical evenings, and even in dark corners of the British Museum.

Julian’s kissed Anna! He’s practically kissed the face off her!

Even more fascinating was the way they walked together. Barely touching but still enmeshed, as if their bodies were deep in a conversation the two of them were trying hard to ignore.

She nearly fell down the stairs trying to get a better look.

“Strangling the balustrade again, Charlotte?” called Julian. “What’s it done this time?”

Anna shot forward down the hall with a guilty yelp.

They haddefinitelybeen kissing.

Even more interesting—because Julian had kissed half of London—was his expression. Charlotte had never seen him look so full of laughter and… was that pride? She swished her way down the staircase and gave Julian her sweetest smile. “Oh, look, you’ve scared Anna off. Don’t be beastly or you’ll scare me off too, and I badly want my breakfast. Will you join me?”

“Breakfast, you baggage? It’s past noon.”

“Join me for luncheon, then.”

Julian put out his arm and Charlotte tucked hers inside it, muddled no more.

She knew just what to do.

Charlotte was still in the mood to stir the pot when a wild-eyed Anna tracked her down in the small salon later that afternoon.

“Charlotte, we have to go to London!”

Charlotte tucked away her embroidery loop and considered. Things were progressing splendidly for Julian and Anna at Mayne, but on the other hand, there was nothing like the whirl of London to encourage a romance.

More selfishly, it would be easier to start up a proper gambling ring in the city. Their small bets kept doing well, and both young women itched to build something bigger.

“All right, let’s go to London! I know Gran is longing to,” Charlotte replied. “But—why are we going?”

Anna’s eyes lit with a truly frightening determination. “Because I need to line up buyers for my horses and that’s where I’ll find the richest ones.”

Charlotte grabbed a fat pillow from the settee and hurled it at her friend.

Anna ducked. “Good lord!” she cried, still half-crouched as the pillow hit the wall. “What was that for?”

“You mustnotsell your horses!”

Anna straightened. “I don’t have a choice! The horses make up the great bulk of Chatham’s wealth, and I can’t see a way to pension off the servants without selling. I’ve looked at everything.”

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