Page 181 of Snowbound Surrender
“Father, there are many young and eligible ladies here tonight,” she said, forgetting to lower her voice, “and the gentlemen here will likely as not ask them to dance, not me. I am bored, Father. Why do I not just return to – ”
“Ahem,” came a voice behind them.
Anne and her father whirled around, Anne’s cheeks red. If she had had any idea she was being overheard, she would never have spoken so, but as it was, she need not have concerned herself.
The woman who had interrupted them was seated behind them, a serious young lady with a book on her knee. Her spectacles were pushed to the end of her nose, and she had a stern look on her face.
Anne relaxed. This was not a woman who would spread gossip about the scandalous thing which Sir Thomas’ daughter dared to speak.
“I do apologise,” the young lady said quietly. “I did not intend to overhear you, but as I do not enjoy dancing whatsoever, I found a nook for myself and therefore did hear you. Miss Mariah Wynn.”
Anne curtsied, and as her father bowed, he said, “Sir Thomas Marsh and his daughter, Anne. Are you any relation to Edward, Viscount Wynn?”
Miss Wynn’s face distorted for the briefest of moments that Anne thought if she had blinked at the same time, she would have missed it. There was a story there.
“My adoptive brother,” Miss Wynn said stiffly. “Miss Marsh, there is a small library down the corridor. Turn left, along until a right turn and then fourth door on the right. All are welcome to visit, and I can personally recommend it.”
Relief washed over Anne. At least, a respite from this tiresome ball.
“I forbid you from going,” Sir Thomas said quietly, able to see his daughter’s thoughts immediately.
Anne smiled wanly. “Do you remember what happened the last time you attempted to forbid me from doing something?”
Her father hesitated, and then nodded.
“Thank you, Miss Wynn,” Anne began, but she had already disappeared back into her book.
Squeezing her father’s arm and reassuring him that she would not return to their rooms too late, Anne carefully navigated her way around the dancers in the centre of the room, and slipped through the door into the quiet corridor behind.
It was cool and calm, precisely what she needed. Turning left, she tried to remember Miss Wynn’s instructions. Was it a right turn and third door on the left, or a left turn and third door on the right?
After meandering down a corridor that looked exactly the same as any others, Anne opened a door and gasped.
There was no library in this room. On the contrary, it was a bed chamber – and inside it was Maxim, half naked.
Maxim lookedup at the intrusion and could not help but smile. What did Miss Anne Marsh think she was doing, walking into a gentleman’s bed chamber – and at St. James’ Court, too!
The gossips of society would have a field day if they caught her.
There was no embarrassment. Maxim had travelled on the road too long to be interested about who saw him in only his breeches, and he had nothing to be ashamed of.
Anne, on the other hand, looked absolutely mortified.
“Come on in, Miss Marsh,” he said in a low voice.
It was a joke, really. He knew enough that any self-respecting English lady would never allow herself to be found in such a compromising position.
Joke or not, Anne stepped forward and closed the door behind her, leaning against it as though for support.
“Make yourself at home,” he said, before turning to look back at the two shirts laid out on the bed he was choosing between.
It was only when he turned his back that self-consciousness rose over him. It was not that he minded being looked at, exactly, but it was more that he knew that she, Miss Anne Marsh, was the one doing the looking.
Did she like what she saw?
Maxim pushed the thought away. He could not think like that. Still, her presence felt right, not intrusive at all. As though she should have been there the whole time.
Glancing around, Anne’s cheeks were pink but she was clearly determined not to allow her embarrassment to overwhelm her, and his respect for her grew.
