Page 24 of Enticing the Devil

“Angelique awarded third place to the most unusual entry in the competition.”

Understanding dawned with a bit of irritation. Though he certainly wasn’t happy for the pity vote, he didn’t think the matter warranted the kind of attention he was currently receiving.

“She explained that although the color scheme was rather unconventional, being unconventional herself, it was one of the things she liked most about it,” Roderick continued. “That and the deliciously scandalous message of the blooms.”

Beynon turned a hard gaze to his brother and noted how the other man was just barely holding in laughter. “What message?”

Roderick did laugh then and clapped Beynon on the back before walking away without answering.

Beynon practically snarled in frustration. What the fuck had he done?

Chapter Nine

The sun had been above the horizon for less than an hour when Anne stepped from the house. Being so early, the garden and grounds were quiet and still and the lightly overcast sky covered everything in a muted shade of golden gray. It was pleasantly cool now, but something in the air suggested the day could get quite warm if the thin layer of clouds managed to disperse.

The boathouse was located at the end of a long path beyond the south lawn and the hill they’d raced—or tumbled—down the other day.

Fishing was not her forte, but since it seemed to be a favorite pastime amongst most gentlemen she knew, she hoped her partner might step in where she was lacking in this particular event. Five teams were scheduled for the morning and five teams in the evening, allowing everyone three hours on the lake to make their best attempt at catching the biggest fish.

As she reached the bottom of the gravel path and approached the boathouse, Anne peered ahead to see if anyone had gotten to the lakeshore ahead of her. When she didn’t see any sign of movement, she wondered if she might have been a bit too early. But then again, being that she was a great deal less confident about this event, she intended to make the most of every minute allotted for the task.

Of course, that would only work if Mr. Thomas also managed to be on time.

She’d very carefully avoided speaking with him last evening though she could feel his black eyes staring at her intermittently throughout the hours that had followed Angelique’s inciting little announcement. Though the suggestive tone of the lady’s voice alone had been enough to cause a stir, she could only hope the Frenchwoman’s cryptic reference to the symbols of their flower arrangement wouldn’t have been understood by most people present. The practice of floriography, while popular in France for some time, was really quite new to Britain.

Since Angelique gratefully didn’t go into any detail, most people could only speculate on what the “scandalous message” might be until they lost interest, which shouldn’t take long. At least, that’s what Anne was hoping for.

Reaching the boathouse, she continued around the building toward the lakeshore instead of going inside. If no one was there just yet, she’d look for a nice dry, grassy bank where she could sit and wait in the fresh air.

But it seemed she wasn’t the first to arrive after all.

As soon as she stepped around the corner of the small building, she saw two of the Harte footmen tying a rowboat up to one of the metal rings bolted along the dock extending a short way from shore. Just as she paused, two more men came from the boathouse, carrying another rowboat between them. One man was dressed in a footman’s uniform while the other was dressed as a country gentleman minus a coat.

Mr. Thomas.

Anne took a swift breath through her nose as the bones in her body suddenly went a bit wobbly. She’d never considered how much of a man’s physique a simple coat could conceal or enhance, depending on the man. If she’d thought Mr. Thomas exceptionally large and burly before, she now realized she’d truly had no idea.

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