Page 19 of Enticing the Devil

Eventually, everyone began to make their way back toward the house. Anne walked beside Bethany and Mr. Pinkman, only half listening as the couple teased each other for their poor showing at the morning event. Unfortunately, it took her longer than it should have to realize when their light quips became low, intimate murmurs, but as soon as she did, she slowed her pace to put some space between them and allow the couple some moments of privacy.

Of course, then she lost the distraction they provided and she found herself searching about for broad, muscled shoulders and black hair worn a bit too long. As soon as she realized what she was doing, she gave herself a mental shake and kept her focus trained on the ground two steps ahead of her.

Lily had arranged for lunch to be served picnic style in the estate’s extensive flower gardens. Guests would have a choice between enjoying their meals on blankets spread over the soft grass or at one of the tables set up beneath several tents which had been erected in the garden’s lush little arbors.

As soon as Anne stepped through the back gate and made her way along the path toward the main area where everything was arranged, she realized her mistake in taking her time. It appeared that everyone had already claimed their spots.

Lily and her husband were lounging on a picnic blanket with Mr. and Mrs. Bentley and their two very young boys while the Pinkmans had joined two other couples seated at one of the tables.

Anne glanced about for anyone else she knew well enough to join, but there didn’t appear to be any space left. Just as an uncomfortable dread seeped into her bones, the young Miss Claybourne skipped up to her.

“Lady Anne, do come sit with us. I’ve been saving you a seat.”

Looking up to where the girl gestured toward a blanket spread beneath the branches of a lovely draping willow tree, Anne felt a quick flash of relief. The blanket was occupied by Lord and Lady Wright, who glanced up with a smile and a wave.

“Thank you, Miss Claybourne, I’d love to join you.”

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BEYNON MADE HIS WAY through the garden, keeping an eye out for Caillie. His wily sister had caught him as he’d tried to leave the archery field unnoticed. She’d chided him for leaving before the congratulatory scene that would inevitably follow his partner’s triumph and had only let him go when he promised to join her for lunch.

He’d hoped to skip the quaint little garden luncheon, but he’d given in to his bold sister’s bribery because the need to escape the covetous gaze of Lady Mayhew had been much more urgent.

The faithless woman was proving to be a serious problem.

He’d never been pursued so intently before. And so bloody obviously. Her husband might have been participating in the final archery round, but there were plenty of others about to take note of her overt glances and suggestive smiles. Since Beynon had failed to dissuade the woman with harsh honesty, he didn’t know what else to do but avoid her as much as possible.

He quickly spotted Caillie waving to him from beneath a willow. With his attention focused on ensuring he didn’t pass too closely to Lady Mayhew, he failed to take note of who else had been included in Caillie’s party until he was upon them.

That Colin and Ainsworth were there was no surprise. He didn’t, however, expect to see Lady Anne sitting straight and tall with her long legs tucked properly to one side beneath the skirts of her pale pink dress. How such a tall woman could look so effortlessly elegant while seated on the ground was a bit unnerving. But it wasn’t nearly as unsettling as the graceful line of her neck or the faint little whisps of pale golden hair that brushed her nape.

Furrowing his brow to dislodge the troublesome focus of his thoughts, he looked up to see Colin staring at him rather oddly. It was a look that would have been much more at home on Roderick’s irreverent face.

“Are you going to have a seat, Beynon?” Ainsworth asked bluntly. “Or do you intend to loom over us throughout the meal?”

Resisting the urge to clear his throat, he stepped forward to lower himself to the open spot still available on the blanket, which happened to be beside his reluctant partner. It did not escape his notice how tense Lady Anne’s slim frame became at his nearness.

She exhibited a similar reaction whenever she saw him. A barely perceptible flinch followed by a slight drawing back of the shoulders and a quick lowering of her chin. As if she somehow felt she needed to brace herself against him.

And every time he saw her do it, a sharp barb of irritation burrowed a bit deeper inside him. He knew his frown was darkening, but he couldn’t seem to help it. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he was doing all he could to keep his distance. That if not for this blasted competition, she wouldn’t have to suffer his damned company at all.

“Lemonade?”

He glanced to Caillie, who leaned across the blanket with a small glass in hand and a bright smile on her face.

“Thank you,” he muttered as he took the offered refreshment.

Unfortunately, the glass was drained in two healthy gulps, which left him to awkwardly cradle an empty glass in his too-large hand.

“Have you had a chance to tell Lady Anne how well she did this morning?” Caillie asked.

Beynon narrowed his gaze at his little sister. The chit knew damned well he hadn’t.

“I acknowledged her skill,” he replied.

“Since neither Colin and Worthy nor the third-place archers had finished in the downhill race, I believe this puts the two of you near the top of the leaderboard.”

“The games have only just begun, Caillie,” the earl reasoned calmly. “And with such a wide array of events, a great deal can still happen.”

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