Page 41 of The Trouble with Anna

It was a terribly busy place, her head.

Charlotte rolled onto her side, resting her chin in her hand. “What exactly is happening between you and my brother, Anna? I’m trying not to pry but I’m no good at discretion.”

Anna picked a long piece of grass and shredded it to bits. “Well, if you must know, sometimes I think… and then other times I… dash it, Charlotte! The truth is, I’m terribly confused. Have you ever…?”

Charlotte grinned. “Many times!”

“Why did I bother to ask? You’ve had so many flirtations and none of them mean a thing to you.”

Charlotte turned over onto her back and stared up into the sky. “If you must know, there was one time… but the whole thing was too stupid. It only lasted the course of a single afternoon.”

“You never said!”

“There was nothing to say. I met a man, I went batty for him, and I thought…” Charlotte shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but her eyes said it did. “I was wrong.”

“You’re being very stingy with the details! What happened?”

“Nothing. It seemed so momentous, but it all fizzled out and I never understood why. I was terribly glum until I realized he must have very bad taste, poor thing.” Charlotte’s smile peeped out. “Imagine havingmeon the hook and not reeling me in?”

“What a fool.”

“A complete cloth-head!”

Anna flopped down beside her friend and both young women stared up at the clouds.

It seemed to Anna that love had a way of mucking one up, making idiots out of even the most sensible people.

Was it her turn?

CHAPTER17

THE DOWAGER AND CHARLOTTE ACCOMPANIEDAnna to her appointment at Ramsay House that afternoon, as was only proper, but it wasn’t long before Julian announced that he was eager to show Anna the family portraits.

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” said Charlotte, much amused.

The Dowager thwacked her, and Anna’s cheeks flooded with color as Julian led them away.

“What are we doing on the back stairs, my lord?” Anna asked, following him up a set of narrow wooden steps. The house seemed infinite, and Anna was delighted to be in its least imposing part. She’d almost broken her neck when she’d arrived, trying to take in the whole of the structure, a massive square of mellow limestone built overlooking Green Park.

Julian, the Earl Ramsay, was imposing enough.

Julian, the man, completely overwhelmed her.

He turned around and his crooked grin sent heat rushing through her. “The answer is to wait and see, which I know will cause you trouble. You’re terribly impatient for a Countess.”

Anna harrumphed at his legs as they continued up the stairs, although a strict observer might say she was really just gawking atthem. His thighs had felt like oak when he pressed her up against the door yesterday, his muscles so hard that—oh, help!—she’d wanted to ride them.

At the top of the last landing, they reached a little door. Julian turned a key and pushed it open.

“We have to go through the attics. Will you mind? If you get scared, you have permission to cling to me.”

“I hate to tell you, but I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“Pity.”

The open door provided enough light so they could make their way across the attic, crouching under the low beams, to another door.

“Ready?” Julian said.

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