Page 28 of A Rogue to Ruin
Anne gently elbowed Deborah in the arm. “You do realize she’s still my sister, and I love her very much? And that I currently reside with her and the wastrel, whom I also happen to love as a brother?”
Deborah laughed gaily. “Yes! I didn’t mean to insult, but facts are facts, dear. You are always welcome to come live with me.”
Anne would never. She didn’t dislike Deborah, but she didn’t necessarily like her either. It was a complicated relationship, as many were in families. And Anne considered Deborah, Lorcan, and her godfather family. In particular, Anne didn’t like the way Deborah treated her husband. Lord Burnhope was a quiet sort who enjoyed entomology. He was about as different from his fashion-loving, pompous wife as one could be.
“I’m quite happy residing with my sister and brother-in-law.” Anne worked to keep her voice even.
Deborah’s gaze strayed to Jane and Anthony, who stood together near one of the doors leading outside. “They seem well-suited.” Was there an edge of envy in her tone?
“Yes,” Anne agreed. “To wed for love is very lucky, isn’t it?”
“Only if it’s to the right person. Marrying well is paramount. If there’s love in the bargain, then yes, that’s fortunate indeed.”
How cold. And yet that’s precisely what Anne had been raised to believe. Until she’d met Rafe, she hadn’t thought too deeply about whether she’d fall in love. The hope had been there, certainly, if not the expectation. Then she’d met him, and her world had shifted.
Until it had tipped her right back to where she was supposed to be. Only to toss her into uncharted waters.
Anne looked seriously at Deborah. “Did you fall in love with Burnhope?”
Waving her hand, Deborah laughed lightly. “Don’t be silly, Anne. Ladies don’t discuss such things.”
“But you said—” Anne had been about to say that she’d commented on Jane and Anthony; however, the arrival of Rafe in the ballroom stole the words right out of Anne’s mouth as well as the air from her lungs.
He entered in the company of his sister and Mr. Sheffield and…the housekeeper?
“Who is that blond gentleman?” Deborah asked with keen interest.
Anne stiffened but didn’t answer her. She was too focused on the fact that Rafe looked a bit pale. As did his sister.
Deborah’s sharp inhalation drew Anne’s attention. “And who is the woman with him?” She narrowed her eyes and started walking toward them—they were on a direct path to Lord Stone.
“That’s Mrs. Sheffield,” Anne answered as she walked quickly to keep up with Deborah’s longer stride. “The blond gentleman is her brother, Mr. Bowles.”
“Her brother?” Deborah scowled as she continued toward them.
Lord Stone extricated himself from the group he was with and greeted Rafe and the others with a furrowed brow, his gaze settling on the housekeeper. Her presence with them was…odd.
Deborah inserted herself into the group, taking a position beside her father. Anne moved to his other side, her attention entirely on Rafe and his impassive expression. He glanced toward her, his nostrils flaring slightly, before he fixed his gaze on Lord Stone.
The earl pivoted briefly toward Deborah. “Allow me to present my daughter, Lady Burnhope. Deborah, I believe you know Mr. Sheffield. This is his wife, Mrs. Selina Sheffield, and her brother, Mr. Raphael Bowles.”
Selina’s eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched as she regarded Deborah, who had an almost identical expression.
Deborah spoke, offering an icy smile. “What apleasureto see you again, Selina.”
The color that had been missing from Selina’s face returned. It was clear—at least to Anne—that they knew each other. And the relationship wasn’t friendly.
“I beg your pardon,” the earl said, “are you already acquainted?”
“Yes,” Deborah said, but was drowned out by the housekeeper.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, my lord,” Mrs. Gentry said, wincing and sending an apologetic look toward Rafe. Apologetic? Why? Anne was thoroughly confused. But it was more than that. A chill raced down the back of her neck.
Mrs. Gentry faced her employer with determination. “I’ve—we’ve—a matter of grave importance to discuss with you. Might we remove to a more private location?”
A look of stark annoyance flitted across Deborah’s face. She pursed her lips and glared at the housekeeper, who seemed to shrink. Anne wished she was standing near Deborah so she could elbow her again.
“Yes,” Deborah said, surprising Anne by agreeing with Mrs. Gentry. “We should excuse ourselves. I have so many questions for Selina. My apologies,Mrs. Sheffield.” The look she gave Selina could have stripped the wallpaper from the ballroom. And Selina’s answering stare would have sent puppies running in terror.
