Page 58 of The Trouble with Anna

Pickerton’s eyes lit up. “The woman of the hour? I bid on your Charon, I’ll have you know. What a fine engagement present Lord Ramsay gave you.”

“Yes, he’s extraordinary,” she said through her teeth. “Tell me, sir. Do you have any horses worth my trouble?”

Lord Hartley threw his head back and laughed, and some of the young women drifted over. It was early in the Season, but all the guests seemed glad of a break from the endless round of balls in favor of an easy night with friends. The Dowager and Charlotte both had a talent for warmth, so while the tablecloths were starched and formal, the company wasn’t. Especially when dinner ended and the footmen cleared the last plates away.

The Dowager gave the women the signal to withdraw, but Charlotte pretended not to see.

“Gentlemen!” Charlotte ignored the Dowager’s increasingly emphatic eyebrow waggling and leaned forward. “Who here fancies a bet?”

CHAPTER26

NOTHING ABOUT THE RIDE THROUGHcrowded London on a Saturday night improved Julian’s mood. It darkened by the minute, descending right down to brimstone when the snarled streets forced him to abandon his carriage and shoulder his way through the drunken crowds.

The great houses of Mayfair were lit up and shining, but Julian didn’t spare them a glance. All he could think of was Anna, standing like a wallflower with her face a frozen misery. His long legs tore up the pavement and he ignored the cheery “Julian, hullo!” from a man across the street he would have identified as a favorite cousin, if he’d bothered to look up. Rounding the corner to Grosvenor Square at a scalding pace, Julian was up the stairs and through the glossy black door before the Dowager’s butler had it fully open.

“My lord!” Levy cried. “We weren’t expecting—”

Julian walked right past him, drawn by shouts in the dining room. He strode into the room just as a great feminine cheer went up.

“That’s another five guineas from you, Mr. Pickerton!” Charlotte snatched up a voucher from the man’s hand and flung it in the growing pile of papers in front of a sleek young woman withdark hair. “You don’t learn, but you mustn’t let good sense stop you. Try your luck again!”

The women whooped and the men howled. Julian, scanning the room, noted that even Gran was up out of her chair and crowing at old Mr. Frith across the table.

But where the devil was Anna?

It took a second for Julian to understand. His eyes slid past her, then jerked back with shock, outrage, and a queer sense of loss.Annawas the sleek young woman with the fat pile of vouchers. Her hair was a glossy black river, her skin the cream the cat wanted to lick. Her dress—he couldn’t see much of the damn thing because she was seated—showed an absurd amount of shoulder and the surprisingly graceful arc of her neck.

Where was the scraped-back hair and the crackle of suspicion? Where was the mistrustful young witch who’d make him fight for each small softening?

Goddamn it, where hadhisAnna gone?

This new Anna leaned up to whisper in Lord Hartley’s ear, which caused Hartley to give a shout of laughter and grin down at her. Something ugly, dark, and covetous oiled its way into Julian’s stomach, something that rolled and twisted like an eel.

Anna glanced up, her face lit by laughter.

The laughter fell away, replaced by pure loathing. It hit him like an adder strike.

Julian crossed his arms across his chest and lounged against the wide doorframe, waves of hurt and fury pouring off him. One by one, the guests spotted him and went still, some startled, some bemused, some visibly entertained. Charlotte leapt up in her chair just as Gran saw him and plopped down, as if they were a malfunctioning mechanical toy. Julian ignored everyone and waited for Anna to acknowledge him.

“Good evening.” Julian held the gaze of the woman he’d chasedacross London. He spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, but his clipped words were for Anna alone.HisAnna, surely. “How charming to see that London has met my fiancée.”

Lady Cardiff, the Dowager’s oldest friend, was the first to respond, letting out an optimistic little cheer that faded out against the palpable tension in the room, like a duck hit by shot and falling from the sky. Anna would have laughed if she weren’t so keyed up.

“Why, Julian! How lovely of you to join us,” said the Dowager mildly. “But you’ll undo all Anna’s good work. She explained earlier that the match isn’t settled yet.”

“Oh?” He kept his eyes trained on Anna. “How is that? I seem to recall that I offered and she accepted.”

Charlotte darted a look at Anna, shooting franticleave it to me!signals. “I feel like champagne! Shall we all have a glass?”

But Anna wasn’t paying attention. She pushed back her chair, armed for battle, and—

Lord Hartley put a hand on her forearm and said in a low voice, “Not the time, I shouldn’t think.”

Anna forced her shoulders to relax. “I’ll have champagne.”

The junior footman, who seemed to expect bloodshed, heaved a sigh of relief.

“What are we toasting, exactly?” Mr. Pickerton’s sharp nose was twitching.

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