Page 2 of A Wallflower's Wassail Punch
He let out a loud sigh.“Of course.I’m your oldest brother.I will always protect you.Now go,” he said, pushing her toward the stairs.“I’m crossing my fingers for you that he’s handsome, plump in the pocket, and brave enough to face all of your brothers.”
Annette gave a half-hearted sigh.Having four protective brothers had not helped her chances for a match.They had announced to anyone who would listen that there would be retribution against any man who hurt their sister.In any way.None of the suitors with the courage to come forward had been remotely interesting.She was certain they only braved her brothers for her generous dowry.
Annette hovered by a gilded column on the edge of the ballroom.The newly installed gas lights in the elaborately cut chandeliers glittered with an unnatural brilliance.At the far end of the room, the musicians were seated on the balcony and just ending the last strains of a dance.She turned to see herself in one of the mirrors lining the walls at various points.Smoothing her plain dark-brown hair and tucking in a loose strand at her neck, she inspected her dress.It was pomona silk, one of her favorites.It had tiny roses embroidered along the cuff of her short puff sleeves and the hem, and the color brightened her green eyes.
Lady Jersey joined her, pulling Annette’s hand through her arm.The woman had made it her mission to find the “poor motherless waif” a husband this Season.“Are you quite ready?”
“Yes, ma’am.”Annette followed the countess to a group of debutantes and young gentlemen.She knew all of them, at least by name.No!Lady Jersey wouldn’t possibly introduce her to?—
“Lady Annette, have you met Lord Frederick?”She curtsied and then extended her hand.While they hadn’t formally met, she was quite aware of his reputation.He was short for a man, and according to her brothers, what he lacked in height he made up for in arrogance and provocation.His derisive comments often goaded others into arguments that led to physical blows, leaving Lord Frederick to take bets and make merry off the ensuing brawl.
“I understand you are in need of a partner for the next dance?”asked the duke’s son, rubbing his weak chin.He wore his blond hair in a tall pouf, and his pale blue eyes never met her gaze, remaining on her square neckline.Though he wasn’t a handsome man, it was his personality that made him unattractive.She didn’t like arrogant men or mean-spirited Corinthians.
“If the request is out of pity, please don’t feel obligated,” she said, trying not to wrinkle her skirt as her hands fisted at her sides.“I won’t be disappointed to miss a dance.”
“Adance?I hadn’t thought you’d been asked at all this evening.”He smirked.“My mother said I need to be more charitable, so you’ll be helping me out.”He held out his arm.
She laid her fingers on his sleeve, knowing it would be an insult to Lady Jersey if she refused.How did women not see Lord Frederick as he really was?“Then you owemea favor.”
He laughed, showing a mouthful of crooked teeth.“I may not be the best-looking in the room, but I’m the only man brave enough to risk your brothers’ wrath.I shall be the hero at my club tonight.”
Annette rolled her eyes as they joined the line of dancers, then pasted on a smile.She couldn’t be seen as shrewish.She’d never find a husband.And she wanted a family of her own desperately.As Lord Frederick bowed to her curtsy and the dance commenced, she also realized she wasn’tthatdesperate yet.
At one point, as she and Lord Frederick touched palms and made a turn, he licked his lips, staring at her bosoms.The gleam of the chandeliers shone on his thick mouth.The man had no idea how unappealing he was.Some poor woman will have to kiss him,she thought in disgust,and pretend to enjoy it.That image almost sent her into giggles.
The quadrille finally ended, and Annette thought to escape, but his hand caught her arm.“Shall I escort you to the refreshment table?It seems I’ve put quite the blush onto your cheeks,” he murmured in her ear.
Annette’s mouth opened with a quick retort, then closed.It wouldn’t help to end the Season insulting this man or causing a scene.She clenched her hand to keep from wiping his moist breath off her neck.Peering at the dais where the patronesses sat, she saw Lady Jersey smile at her encouragingly.“Yes, my lord, that would be lovely.”
“I knew I’d break through that ice,” he said with a waggle of his brows.His hand was a bit too heavy on her lower back as he guided her through the crowd.He fetched her a cup of ratafia.
“Thank you, I’m parched,” she said, sipping the punch.Each time Lord Frederick tried to lean in close, she took another drink to keep him at bay.Which meant the drink quickly disappeared.
“I’ll get you another,” he said with a chuckle.“Did you like it?”
“It has a different taste but not in a bad way,” she said, handing him the empty glass.
“I gave it a splash of rum,” he said in her ear, then turned away.
Her cheeks burned with the knowledge that she’d just imbibed at Almack’s.How dare he do such a thing without her permission.She looked about the crowd for Lucius, her ire growing when she couldn’t find him.It was nearly eleven, and he promised to bring her to supper.She could not stomach dining with Lord Frederick.Either he, the alcohol, or both had ruined her appetite.Although she didn’t mind the lightness in her head or the looseness of her limbs.The rum seemed to have a pleasant numbing effect.
Then she spied her brother’s golden-brown head, and he waved his hand in greeting.He’d made it.Oh, thank the heavens.A warm breath hit the back of her neck, and then a sharp pain nipped her backside.She blinked, her mind a bit fuzzy.Had someone just?—
The pinch came again, and she pivoted on her heel, swinging with all her might.Just as her brothers had taught her.
Crunch.Hard bone met her gloved fist.A wave of satisfaction roared through Annette, and a smug grin turned her lips.“Go to the devil, you lecherous lickpenny!”
Chaos ensued.
There was a loud collective gasp, then loud cries and shouts for help.
“Lord Frederick has been attacked!”
“Did Lady Annette plant him a facer?”
“Lecherous lickpenny?Such language!”
“She never did act a proper lady.”
