Page 3 of A Wallflower's Wassail Punch
“Between her brothers and that right hook...”
“She’s this Season’s social pariah now.”
The remarks echoed in her head like a swarm of bees.
“What the devil did you do that for?”screamed Lord Frederick.He held his hand to his nose, trying to staunch the flow of blood.“You broke my bloody nose, you rattlepate.”
Annette looked down at her white glove, now smeared with red, and looked back at him with wide eyes.“I’m so sorry.Someone pinched me.”She looked around for someone to confirm what had happened, but all she saw were people staring at her with a mixture of amusement and horror.
One of Lord Frederick’s friends came to the rescue with a handkerchief that was quickly soaked.Annette pulled one from her reticule and approached him with hers.“Here, my lord, let me help you.”
He backed away, one hand palm out and the other holding his nose, his icy blue stare pinning her.“Don’t touch me.Don’t speak to me.Don’t ever say my name again.”He looked around at the guests and pointed at her.“Look at her with blood on her hands.This is what I get for taking pity on a-a wallflower.I was only doing a favor for Lady Jersey.”
“Oh,” cried the patroness from somewhere behind her.
That one syllable shattered her resolve.Annette knew she would go on thelistand never be invited again.Which meant others would follow the patroness’s lead, ending her first Season in disgrace.
The heckles and whispers enveloped her, taking away her breath.Annette blinked back tears.What had she done?Everyone stared at her as if she’d been the one to act inappropriately.Wasn’t she the victim here?
Turning to her left, she beseeched a group of women who had welcomed her at the beginning of the evening.“He came up behind me and-and p-pinched me here.”She touched her dress to indicate the spot and realized she’d used her right hand, smearing blood on the puce silk.“Oh, no, no, no.”She looked at the women, imploring one of them to take mercy on her.
But they moved back and away from her as one body.She turned to her right, opening her mouth for support, but that group of females did the same.The men in front of her smirked, as if the scene had been the best entertainment of the evening.A cold sweat broke out all over her body.Her hands trembled; her throat swelled as the back of her lids burned.
Then a warm hand gripped her elbow, and she looked up at her brother, tears swimming in her eyes.“I-I…” The tears fell, and she hid her face in his coat.
She felt the rumble of his deep voice against her cheek as he barked over her head, “I saw what happened, you disgusting cur.To think aladycould take you out, you deuced molly.”
“She’s no lady,” came the muffled response from behind a second bloody handkerchief.
“Iwillfind you later and finish the job.Count on that.”
Her walk of shame out of Almack’s was the most horrendous few moments of her life.The crowd parted as they made their way to the door, indicating the need to distance themselves from the ruined lady and her brother.Her stomach roiled, and she clutched it as the room began to spin.
“I think I may?—”
Then the room grew dark, and Lucius swept her up in his arms.
CHAPTER1
November 1820
Beecham Manor
Suffolk, England
“Oh, Papa, I’m so happy for you!”Annette hugged her father, noting his green eyes, so like her own, twinkled with pleasure.“You’ve been alone for too long.”Over a dozen years since her mother had died of fever.She had fond memories of Mama, but as the years went by, they became hazier.If it weren’t for the portrait and small cameo, her mother would be a foggy image in her mind.
“I wasn’t sure how you would take the news, but I’m pleased by your reaction.”He ran a finger through his thick, fading blond hair.“Alice fills a void I thought would be forever empty.We would like to wed in the spring.”
“Oh, how I love weddings,” Annette said wistfully, blinking back sudden tears.Two of her four brothers had married over the past few years, and the ceremonies and wedding breakfasts had been beautiful for both.Each time, she’d told herself that her turn would come.
“Papa—”
“My dear—” they both said at once, then laughed.
“Annette, my sweet daughter,” continued Lord Beecham, “there is a stipulation to her acceptance.”
“Yes?”Annette had liked Lady Henney from their first meeting.“Will she need my help with the planning?”
