Page 25 of The Trouble with Anna

Anna slowed and let Ramsay catch up with her.

They made their way down the path together, side by side.

CHAPTER11

IT WAS A THOROUGHLY BEWILDEREDAnna who found herself, several days later, ensconced in the finest guest room at Mayne, its pale blues a startling contrast to the ugly crimson damask of her room at Chatham. It had taken much less time to pack up her things than it had to overcome her many howling objections, but the Dowager, Julian, and even Charlotte were all united that she couldn’t stay at Chatham by herself.

Never mind the legions of servants who watched over her.

“Is that all you have?” said Charlotte, frowning over the three trunks, four hatboxes, and one large parcel the footman handed down and placed in a neat line on the drive. “All your gowns, habits, pelisses, cloaks, linens, wraps, jewelry boxes, books, paintbrushes, sketchbooks, and, I don’t know—ceramic figurines? That’sit?”

“Oh yes,” Anna said dryly. “My vast collection of ceramic figurines.”

“You know what I mean!”

“Well, I couldn’t choose which books to take so I left them all, and it didn’t seem practical to bring saddles when I’ll be over at Chatham every day. I did bring my mother’s portrait.” She and Hutchins had wrapped it themselves, covering it carefully in threelayers of linen. “You don’t think my cousin will make a fuss, do you? I suppose it belongs to the estate, but—”

“If Simon Laughton dares say one word, he’ll answer to me!” said Charlotte.

Anna looked at her doubtfully.

“Well, he will. Your cousin is afraid of everything, and my tongue especially. Don’t pay him a bit of attention.”

“I can’t stop thinking of him.”

Charlotte came up and tucked her arm in Anna’s. “I’d much prefer you think of the next races so I can get our picks to the courier in time. Who looks good for Ipswich?”

Anna answered, but she couldn’t get Cousin Simon out of her mind. He occupied almost as many of her thoughts as Lord Ramsay, and that was quite something. She’d seen Ramsay every day without fail, and even when he wasn’t directly in front of her, he loomed on the edge of her consciousness, threatening to propose again, or to kiss her. Anna wasn’t sure which would mix her up more.

No, that was a lie. It was the kissing that had her thoroughly befuddled. She couldn’t look at him without being tossed back into the woods again, his eyes on fire and her belly full of heat. How was she meant to drink her tea in the morning? How could she butter a crumpet as if nothing had happened? One kiss, and it felt like Anna’s insides had turned into syrup.

Her only hope was to turn her attention to Chatham, which was why, at the crack of dawn on her first morning at Mayne, Anna crept down the hallway in her riding habit, trying her hardest not to step on the creaky bits of the floor and wake the household.

Too late. A door swung open far down the hall and Lord Ramsay appeared through it, tying the sash of his dark-green robe unevenly around his waist. His eyes were drunk with sleep, his hair deliciously rumpled. “You’re up early.” He yawned. “Planning to make a run for it?”

“I’m so sorry to disturb you!” Anna tried not to stare, but his nightshirt gaped at the top to reveal a deeply intriguing sliver of skin where his neck met his shoulder. “I need to be up early if I’m to get to Chatham and go out with the string.”

“Good god, out with the string? Have the grooms exercise the horses.”

Anna shook her head. “I always ride out with them.”

He rubbed his face and Anna could hear the rasp of his stubble against his hand. How would it feel against her—

“Wait ten minutes and I’ll ride over with you.”

“There’s no need, my lord!”

He squinted down the hall at her. “Can you really manage to argue this early? I can’t. I’d count it as a favor if I could accompany you.”

Anna knew when she was cornered. She gave a small nod and fought the urge to collapse against the nearest wall.

“Soussi, his lordship will ride Hannibal.”

“No,” the stablemaster said flatly. “Not Hannibal.”

Anna laughed. “Don’t be fooled by his lordship’s polished boots. I’ve seen him ride—he’ll do.”

Ramsay’s eyebrows rose. “I’ll do?”

---