Page 64 of Enticing the Devil

Anne breathed a sigh of relief that was a bit premature as the girl added, “Of course, that doesnae mean I willnae do it if I have to.”

Anne could only shake her head as a smile crept across her lips. “Miss Claybourne, you certainly have an adventurous spirit.”

“Thank you!” the girl beamed. Then her round face lit up as she spied someone in the crowd. “Oh, there’s Roderick and Beynon. I must say I have the most handsome brothers, don’t you think, Lady Anne?”

As soon as the girl mentioned Beynon, Anne’s body tensed as a fine shower of sparks rained across her nerves. She’d hoped to avoid seeing the man for a while at least. But now it would be odd not to look.

The two brothers stood almost directly across the ballroom, yet despite the distance and the constantly shifting array of guests between them, her partner stood out.

She’d thought him arresting while dressed casually in the clothes of a country gentleman, but in formal evening wear, he was something else entirely.

Ruggedly handsome and quite unapologetically unrefined.

Though he stood beside Mr. Bentley with his chin lowered as he listened to whatever the other man was saying, his dark gaze—made darker by the downward tug of his heavy brows—was angled sharply toward Anne. The potent intensity of his stare sent a shiver down her spine and a flutter through her low belly. Her body tingled and a subtle pulse ignited deep inside.

But her heart ached.

“Thank you so much, Lady Anne.”

She gave a tiny start as she turned to see Lady Wright approaching with Lord Wright a step behind her. She was instantly reminded that the earl had been present during Beynon’s meeting with her father. Had he also been there when her father cut her off?

The pain over her father’s renouncement had dulled to a single point of pressure in her chest. She hadn’t been terribly surprised to hear her father had forsaken her. Lord Humphries had made it clear long ago that her worth to him was strictly limited to her ability to make a good match—one that would be advantageous to him either financially or in regard to political standing. When she’d failed to garner even a hint of interest in her first season, he’d essentially turned his back on her then.

This situation with Beynon had simply made it official. And now she was destitute in fact rather than just figuratively. Her father had made sure she would be forced to go to Beynon with nothing—a punishment for him as well as her. For some reason, she was more aggrieved at the fact that Beynon wouldn’t receive her dowry than she was for herself.

If he received some financial compensation, perhaps she wouldn’t feel like such a burden.

As Lord and Lady Wright reached them, Anne forced the tragic thoughts from her mind and offered a quick smile.

“Thank you, Lady Anne,” the countess said before turning to Miss Claybourne. “Here, Caillie, I brought you some punch. Once you’ve finished, I’ll be bringing you up to your room.”

“So soon?” the girl exclaimed.

“Our agreement was for fifteen minutes,” Lady Wright noted firmly. “It’s certainly been that.”

“Lady Anne,” the earl said, stepping forward. “I wonder if you’d care to join me for the next dance?”

His expression was calmly unreadable, but she thought she detected a glint of pity in his eyes. Embarrassment threatened to heat her cheeks.

“I imagine your wife is anxious to partner you, my lord.”

“Dinnae worry about me,” the Scotswoman noted with a husky laugh. “I’ll have my turn.”

As the next song started up, the earl turned to offer his arm. To refuse now would be unconscionably rude. Settling her hand on his arm, Anne allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

“I’d like to offer an apology, my lady,” he said in an earnest tone.

“It’s really not necessary,” she began hastily.

“Nevertheless,” he insisted gently as they took their positions.

As the music started and they moved through the patterns of the country dance, Anne hoped the earl would not attempt to continue the conversation.

She was disappointed.

At the next opportunity, he continued, “I’d assumed Beynon had spoken with you before we left for London.”

“Well, he hadn’t,” she replied, her voice curt. Then the earl’s regretful expression made her feel awful. She shouldn’t be taking her anger out on anyone but the man responsible. “I don’t blame you, my lord,” she added hastily. “It is Mr. Thomas alone who has earned my wrath.”

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