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Of all the duties of the ladies who plan the St. Cecelia's ball, the one chore they agreed was the worst of the lot was seating people for the supper. Seating more than three hundred people required more patience than even the good Lord had in Heaven. Where a person sat depended on a great number of things.
There had be distinctions in rank, of course. Family connections had to be taken into consideration as well. Had seating been based on these two things alone, the task would be much simpler. However, one had to remember feuds among the guests, and sometimes feuds among the family members, when seating people. Although no one ever specifically stated it, a person's fortune was also a factor. One would not wish to seat a fortune hunter next to a young lady with a large dowry for fear of infuriating the girl's family.
The seating was supposedly completed weeks in advance, but everyone knew that it was not truly finished until the supper was announced and guests poured into the dining room to see where they would sit. Last-minute observations were taken into account and people were seating accordingly, even if the ladies on the committee were driven near mad in the rush to change the cards around.
The one thing that was strictly forbidden was for anyone not on the committee to enter the dining room before it was time. This policy had come into effect several years earlier when a matchmaking mother had switched cards in order to get her daughter closer to an earl with a large fortune, when everyone knew the earl was on the verge of proposing to another young lady. It was not unheard of for bribes or blackmail to be used to gain better seating, but most of the ladies who served on the St. Cecelia's committee were honest, and therefore the seating was as it should be.
As Anne walked into the dining room, she was curious to see where she would be sitting. At both of her first two St. Cecelia's, she had been seated with her uncle and his family. The first year had been out of respect for Uncle Matlock; the second year, Anne believed, she would have been seated far away had she not been so dazzling at her first ball of last Season.
She heard someone calling for her and quickly realized that it was Georgiana. She looked extremely nervous, and Anne could not blame her. She had been as stunned as everyone upon learning that Georgiana had danced with the notorious Sir Lysander. Anne thought it a sign of his improving taste and hoped against what she knew to be true that he might be ready to settle down at last.
"Is something wrong?" Anne asked.
"They have seated me with Sir Lysander," she whispered in Anne's ear.
"Oh."
"Precisely. I think they have done this purely for the amusement there should be when my brother finds out."
"Is Sir Lysander aware of this yet?"
"I do not know, for I have not seen him since our dance. Annie...what am I going to do?"
"Just be yourself and that should get you through it. He seems to like you."
"I know, but...but I fear for what people might think of me now."
"If they think one bit the less of you for dancing with a man everyone admits is eligible, even if he does have a reputation, then they are fools. I have noticed that you have not suffered for it up to now."
"Yes, it does seem to have brought me notoriety. I do not think I like that."
"You wouldn't," Anne said with a smile at her cousin's chagrined expression. "By the by, how was your dance with the notorious Sir Lysander?"
Georgiana did not speak but the look on her face spoke for her.
"What did you talk about?"
"The usual sort of things one speaks of when dancing. The weather, the dance, what books we had recently enjoyed."
"Sir Lysander reads?" Anne teased.
"We also talked about how everyone was reacting to us. He seemed to take great delight in that. I must confess, it put me at greater ease with the whole situation."
"Good."
"I wish his reputation were not quite so bad. He seemed like such a gentleman while we were dancing."
"I wish I had not had to tell you of it, but..."
"I told you, do not feel guilty. If our roles were reversed, I would tell you."
"You are the first eligible young woman anyone remembers him dancing with in quite some time. I even doubt he would dance with me."
"I wish he had not asked me. It has made my brother churlish. He has been growling at every single man who has approached me this evening." Georgiana motioned to a table where he was leading Elizabeth. "He is going to be furious when he discovers that Sir Lysander is sitting at our table."
"Are we anywhere near each other?"
"I did not think to look."
Anne murmured, "I am probably to sit near Cordelia, which is the last thing I want at the moment."
"Why?" Georgiana looked grim.
"We had a talk in the garden."
"Oh no."
"She intends to bring the matter to her father's attention in the morning."
"Why would she do that? He can hardly interfere with how people feel. Lord Robin cares for you, not for her. He cannot change that."
"He could prevent him from calling on me."
"He would hardly do that, would he? Uncle Matlock wants nothing more than to see you married. You have rejected everyone but Lord Robin. It would be illogical for him to turn him away."
"Yes, but Uncle Matlock is not aware that I have truly accepted his suit."
"Anne, if anyone had a single doubt about it, this evening would have ended it. It was obvious to everyone in that ballroom during your first dance."
"Was it?" Anne disliked the idea of everyone knowing her business.
Georgiana nodded. "I know how you hate it."
Anne sensed his presence behind her before he spoke. Lord Robin seemed to be having that effect on her this evening, and it was becoming more pleasant as the evening continued.
"I know where you are sitting," he said in a low voice. "I made certain of it."
"How did you do that?" Anne asked.
"I have been sworn to secrecy, Miss de Bourgh, though I suspect I did not need to bother. They would likely have seated us together in any event."
"I think I should join my brother before Sir Lysander arrives at the table," Georgiana said. "Please excuse me."
Once she was gone, Lord Robin chuckled. "That was as gracious an exit as I have seen all evening. Miss Darcy is to be commended for it."
"You think she did that deliberately?"
"I do indeed."
"I take it that we are not sitting near her, then."
"No. We are at your uncle's table, along with your cousin."
There was something in the way he mentioned Cordelia that puzzled Anne. He could not possibly know the truth, and Del always managed to show her best side to him, so why did he not like her very much?
"A pity," Anne said. "I had been looking forward to seeing the fireworks when Mr. Darcy discovered Sir Lysander sitting beside Georgiana."
"I think we shall have fireworks aplenty at our own table," she thought she heard him say, but she was not going to ask him what he meant by it.
Lord Robin led Anne to the table, where her uncle and aunt were already sitting. To Anne's surprise, the Duke of Dorchester was sitting on her aunt's right.
"Good evening, your grace," Anne said, curtsying.
"Miss de Bourgh. Denby, it is good to see you in London again."
"Thank you."
"Good evening, Lord Denby."
Anne tensed as she saw Cordelia sit beside the duke. The smile she gave Lord Robin made her want to cringe--pure charm, free of guile...what man would not fall in love with her?
Apparently, Lord Robin, for his voice was as cool as Cordelia's was warm. "Lady Cordelia."
"I must say that I am disappointed in you. I greeted you when you arrived and you brushed right past me."
"A grave insult to a lovely lady," Dorchester said, smiling at her.
"My most humble apologies, Lady Cordelia. I noticed your cousin was being accosted by Lord Cassel and felt duty-bound to rescue her."
Anne almost groaned. Of all the things he could have told Del, that was the worst. Now she would think that the only reason they had danced together was--
"I also had the strangest feeling that if I did not find Miss de Bourgh immediately, she would disappear and I would not find her for the rest of the evening."
"I doubt that," Anne said. "Shall we sit?"
Lord Robin held her chair for her as she sat down beside Uncle Matlock. She looked at her uncle's face and was not surprised to find him looking benevolently at her. She was piqued, but then decided that the man was only doing what he thought was right by her. If his idea of right and hers clashed at times, it was only to be expected, given their respective personalities.
"I am rather surprised that the Darcys are not to join us," Anne said. "They are family, even if that branch has no title."
"There would not have been enough room," Lord Robin replied. "Perhaps they were sitting here earlier...but not now."
Anne could not mistake his meaning. "Were they to sit here before you intervened?"
"I did not confess to having done anything."
"You most certainly did, before we walked to this table."
"We shall have to bear their loss," Matlock said, smiling at them. "And you shall both be pleased to hear that Lord Axelby and Miss Cavendish are to join us."
Anne was pleased that Lord Rupert was to be a part of their table, but dearly wished that Miss Cavendish was not the price to pay for his company.
"Who is Miss Cavendish?" Lord Robin asked.
"A lovely girl," Lady Matlock said. "She is a particular friend of our daughter's."
"Though not so much a friend of mine," Anne murmured.
"Whyever not?" Lord Robin whispered to her.
Anne looked down at her card, thinking of her first Season. Miss Rose Cavendish had been the ton's darling that year and had taken great delight in lording it over the Unfortunates, Anne especially, though her reasoning was beyond Anne's grasp. Miss Cavendish had been among the first to "befriend" Anne during her second Season, though she had quickly dropped the connection once Anne dropped her charade. Cordelia had remained friends with the girl, for reasons Anne had wondered about.
"Was she one of the ones?" he asked, his voice so low she could barely hear him.
Anne nodded, unable to look up, the pain of that first year still clinging to her heart. She could live to be one hundred and would never forgive certain people for that year. Rose Cavendish topped her list of unforgiveables.
Anne thought that perhaps, if they had been in private, Lord Robin might have kissed her or something else to comfort her. At the very least, he would have taken her hand, but he could not. They were still the object of speculation, and...
Anne nearly gasped when he took her hand in his, underneath the table. He gave it a gentle squeeze and quickly released it, but when Anne glanced around the table she could tell from the look on her uncle's face that he was aware of what Lord Robin had done. He looked so smug that Anne wanted to kick him under the table. She knew that what bothered her the most about this situation with Lord Robin was the fact that her uncle was getting what he wanted.
She nearly laughed, recognizing for the first time how alike she and her uncle really were. They were both intelligent, independent, and stubborn. They both liked to get their way, and they both had set notions of what was right and wrong.
Realizing this made her realize just how much she liked her uncle. He was exasperating and infuriating, and he had embarrassed her with his Shakespearean decree. But at the same time, she was just as exasperating to him, and she had embarrassed him by being outspoken. Had they not been on opposite sides of the marriage issue, she suspected that they might get along quite well.
"I hope you are thinking of me," Lord Robin said, his voice low again.
Before Anne could give him the impish reply that no, she had not been thinking of him, Lord Rupert arrived at their table.
"Good evening, everyone," Lord Rupert said, bowing before sitting down.
"Good evening, Lord Axelby," Anne said with a smile. "I was delighted when my uncle informed me you would be joining us. I have not had an opportunity to speak with you this evening."
"Forgive me, Miss de Bourgh. This is such a great crush that..." Lord Rupert did not finish.
Anne's smile faded. It was not like her friend to be at a loss for words. It was also not like him to seem so downhearted, and yet the generally cheerful Lord Axelby seemed unhappy about something, and Anne doubted it had to do with having Miss Cavendish for a dinner partner.
"It is all right," she replied, fully intending to speak to him in the future to find out the cause of his melancholy. This was not the place, and certainly not the time, for such a discussion.
As with every St. Cecelia's ball, there came a time during the supper when young ladies were asked to exhibit their musical talents.
After first being entertained by Miss Margaret Valentine, who looked like an angel but could not sing to save her life, a tall gentleman near Anne's table stood up.
"If I may, I would like to propose that Miss Anne de Bourgh favour us with a song," he said.
Lord Robin looked at Anne in amusement. "A young woman of many talents, are you?"
"Not hardly," Anne muttered, refusing to rise from her seat.
"Come now, Miss de Bourgh. Your cousin Lady Cordelia has told me what a proficient you are at the pianoforte, and you sing as well."
Anne stared across the table at Cordelia, who was smiling smugly. She was struck by the hatred that gleamed in her cousin's eyes and knew that this was to be her punishment for not bending to Cordelia's will.
You do not truly know a person until you have seen them at their worst, she thought sadly.
"I am afraid my cousin is mistaken," Anne said. With a slight smile, she added, "Lady Cordelia tends to be biased in my favour, and exaggerates my talents. You would be quite disappointed to hear me play."
"Nonsense," Cordelia said loudly. "I think your playing would be just the thing."
Anne was trapped, and she knew it. She could not graciously bow out of playing, and she could not play well enough to keep London from laughing at her lack of ladylike accomplishments.
"Very well, but I must tell you that you are in for a grave disappointment," Anne said, rising. There was polite applause from those around her.
She walked to the pianoforte and thought that it was too lovely an instrument to be tortured by her playing. Nonetheless, she sat down and thought heavily about which of the five songs she felt like playing.
She looked from the keys to the group of people staring at her. She hated such exhibitions. She knew people used this to judge a young woman. Cordelia knew this as well, and Anne had few doubts who would succeed her at the instrument.
One pair of eyes caught her attention, warm, liquid brown pools that left her spellbound and made her want to prove herself to him. They seemed to say, "It is all right if you cannot do this well. I do not care."
You don't have to be what they want you to be. I would not mind.
A beatific smile crossed her face as she realized that she knew just which song she would play. It would allow her to express her feelings to the one person who needed to know them. If it discomforted her cousin in the process, well, she had set herself up for it.
Her confidence growing by the second, she played the opening chords of the song, then began to sing.
Time...I've been passing time watching ships go by
All of my life
Lying on the sand, watching seabirds fly
Wishing there would be
Someone waiting home for meSomething's telling me it might be you
It's telling me it might be you
All of my lifeLooking back as lovers go walking past
All of my life
Wondering how they met and what makes it last
If I found the place
Would I recognize the face?Something's telling me it might be you
Yeah, it's telling me it might be youSo many quiet walks to take
So many dreams to wake
And we've so much love to makeI think we're gonna need some time
Maybe all we need is timeAnd it's telling me it might be you
All of my lifeI've been saving love songs and lullabies
And there's so much more
No one's ever heard beforeSomething's telling me it might be you
Yeah, it's telling me it must be you
And I'm feeling it'll just be you
All of my lifeIt's you
It's you
I've been waiting for all of my lifeMaybe it's you
Maybe it's you
I've been waiting for all of my life...*
When Anne finished playing, there was a hushed silence in the room. She had been concentrating too hard on playing well and singing on key to notice how her performance was actually going.
From the lack of response, she thought it had not gone well. She told herself she was not going to be upset about this as she looked at Robin. With a smile on his face, he rose and applauded her. Everyone else was quick to join in, though no one else stood alongside Robin.
No one who heard her perform that evening ever talked about how she had been unable to sing the high notes, or that occasionally she hit the wrong key on the pianoforte. What they would talk about for weeks, months and years to come was how entranced Robert Hamilton had been upon hearing her play, and how it seemed as though she had been singing only to him.
Anne would take no notice of the whispers that arose because of her song on this night. She would not notice the sheer delight on the faces of her family...except one. She would not even notice that Cordelia had turned an unpleasant shade of red because what she was hearing from the people around her was not what she had hoped.
Anne would notice nothing but the tall, proud man standing in the middle of the room, his expression telling her that he knew why she had chosen her song, and that she had been singing to him. And that he was very pleased, indeed.
*Author's note: I couldn't resist the title to this chapter--call it one too many viewings of Gladiator! As for the song, I've again taken poetic license. "It Might Be You" was from the movie "Tootsie," lyrics by Alan and Marilyn Bergman. Also, at the beginning of the song, the word "ships" should be "trains."
The morning following the St. Cecelia's ball found Lady Cordelia pacing the hallway in front of her father's library, wondering what the best way to broach the subject of Lord Robin would be. She had thought of bursting into the library in tears, sobbing that she could no longer stand the sight of Anne and Lord Robin together when she knew that he belonged with her.
She decided that it would be too melodramatic. Her father got frustrated when she cried, anyway.
Before she could think of anything else, the door to the library opened abruptly and there stood her father, frowning at her.
"You have been pacing my hallways for the past fifteen minutes, Cordelia Rose. If you wish to speak about something with me, come in."
Cordelia wanted to scream. This was not how she had planned to start this discussion, not at all. She almost backed out, but the violence of her feelings propelled her into the room. Her father shut the door and seated himself at his desk. She took the chair across from him.
"I...I hardly know how to say this, Papa," she said. "That is why I was outside. I did not know you could hear me."
"Those shoes you women wear make it difficult to concentrate when they walk back and forth outside my door."
"Can we help it if they are the rage? You would not wish for me to be considered dowdy, would you?"
He chuckled. "Of course not, Del. What is it that troubles you?"
"It is Lord Robin--I mean, Lord Denby, sir."
Her father's smile broadened. "You fear that he shall not carry through with his courtship of your cousin? I can understand that. For the first time, there is a great hope for your own future."
"No, Papa, that is not the problem. I have never minded Anne's refusal to marry, because it allowed me to be courted without being pressured to wed." Cordelia bit her lower lip. She had hoped never to reveal that to her father. She gave him what she hoped was her best smile and continued. "I wanted to find a man of good fortune and character whom I could love."
"You get that from your mother," he mumbled.
"Can you not say that you have benefited from it?"
"I suppose not." He shuffled some papers to one side. "I had suspected that you did not mind waiting, and I am glad to see that you have been showing good judgment in considering men you would like to wed."
"That is what I wish to talk about." Cordelia clasped her hands in her lap. "You see, I have met the man I wish to marry."
"Excellent! Is he of good character?"
"The very best, Papa. You would find nothing to disapprove of in him."
"Good name?"
"There is not a finer one in England."
He chuckled again. "Of course you would think so. Would I?"
"I believe you would."
"Does he have a good fortune?"
"He is to come into an inheritance quite soon."
"Title?"
Cordelia nodded. "He is an earl." When her father looked hesitant, she added, "I know you want me to marry the Duke of Dorchester or someone of that rank, but I hope you would consider my welfare. He would make me the happiest woman in England if you would consider him for me."
"It seems as though you have prepared your argument well, Cordelia. I cannot offer any objections to such a man. You have only to tell me his name and when you expect an offer of marriage from him, and you shall have my consent to the match."
Cordelia waited for a moment and then said, "I wish to marry Lord Robert Hamilton."
Her father did not speak for a moment, and then... "Lord Robin."
"Yes, sir. The Earl of Denby."
"I see."
"Oh, Papa, I have been in love with him for years now. I was so excited when Georgiana told me he was coming to London with Mr. and Mrs. Darcy because he would be near. He looked so stunned when he saw me..." Cordelia remembered Anne's words from the night before but opted not to tell her father the truth. "And he was so pleasant to me that evening, and has been ever since."
"Lord Robin is calling on Anne."
"I realize that, but it is only because she has the larger dowry."
"You think he intends to marry Anne only for her money?"
Cordelia pressed her hands to her chest, trying to block out his words. Lord Robin could not seriously consider marrying Anne.
"I do not know, but--"
"Cordelia, I wish I did not have to tell you this, but perhaps it might make you see that...well, you need to know. Lord Robin thought you were Anne the night he arrived in London. They had met once before."
She grimaced and closed her eyes. So Papa knows that, does he? Anne must have been to see him this morning before I could tell him everything. It was more confirmation that Anne had never intended to help her out.
"I believe you think yourself in love with Lord Robin, and I cannot help but compliment you on your excellent choice of men. Had he not professed himself to be interested in Anne, I would have gladly welcomed him as a son. As it is, I shall remain content to call him nephew...if and when Anne agrees to marry him."
"Has he already asked her?"
"Not yet, but I have a feeling that quite soon he might. And if last night were any indication, she shall say yes." He sighed. "Del, you could have asked me to let you marry any other man in the world except Robin Hamilton. He is my one chance of seeing your cousin well settled."
"But Papa--I truly love him. You have been promising me since I was a child that I could marry any man in the world. And now I have come to you, telling you that there is a man I wish to marry, and you tell me I cannot."
Her father's brows knit together and he frowned at her. "I think you misunderstood what I said."
"I could not possibly have done so. In this very room, not five minutes ago, you told me that all I needed to do was tell you his name and when I might expect him to propose."
"Do you expect Lord Robin to propose to you sometime soon?"
Cordelia looked at her lap and folded her arms over her chest.
"Has he, by any word or action, made it clear to you that he admires you?"
"No," she said in a small voice and looked at her father again.
"I know you must care for him a great deal to come and tell me about it," her father said in a gentle voice. "I know I have never denied you anything you have wanted in the past, but in this case, I must."
"I am your daughter. Is it not your main concern to find me a husband?"
"What would you have me do?"
"I...I...well, you could tell Lord Robin that he cannot court Anne anymore and that if he likes, he can court me."
"Do you think this would be sufficient to get him to do so?"
"It might."
"My dear, you are not looking at the entire picture. If I were to tell him that, he would know why and then it would be extremely likely that he would not court you. If I refuse to let him court Anne, he shall find another...or wait until I have no power over her."
Cordelia had not thought of that. February, which two weeks earlier had seemed so far away, now loomed quite close.
"Anne's mother trusted me to find her daughter an appropriate husband. She has rejected all men but this one. Even if I could, I would not do something that would prevent me from doing my duty by her."
"That is the only reason you are allowing it? Because of your duty?"
"Even if I had no control over Anne, I could not do it. People are not objects, Cordelia. They do not always do what you want. Lord knows, your cousin has given us a fine lesson of that very principle over the last year and a half."
"Then...you can do nothing?"
He shook his head. "You are the most popular girl in London. You have had countless proposals. I know you were interested in several of the young men before Lord Robin came to London. Find another."
"I do not want another. I want Lord Robin!"
"You are going to have to learn to live without him, my dear, because unless something happens to change Anne's mind, she is going to become the next Countess of Denby."
Greatly vexed, and again feeling herself betrayed by a member of her family, Cordelia leaped out of the chair and ran from the room.
The broken-hearted wailing which came from Lady Cordelia's room was the subject of many conversations between the servants. A downstairs parlor maid had observed the young woman leaving her father's library in tears, making all suspect that because Miss Anne was close to being engaged, he had informed her that he had chosen a husband for her.
The wailing only increased when she spied Lord Robin coming up the walkway to their house, his hat in his hand. Ten minutes later, he walked out of the house again, Anne walking beside him. He leaned down and said something in her ear which made her laugh heartily. The sound of joy pierced Cordelia's heart.
Her cousin had no right, absolutely no right to be so happy when she was so miserable. And she certainly did not have the right to be happy at her expense. But as her father would do nothing to help her, she could only cry.
Georgiana was greatly concerned when she tried to open Del's door only to find it locked. Mixed with her concern was a healthy dose of guilt, because she knew why her cousin was so upset and it was partially her fault. Had she not encouraged Anne to seriously consider Lord Robin, Cordelia would not be so upset.
"Del? It's Georgie. Please let me come in," she said, knocking gently.
"Go away! I do not wish to see anyone ever again! I shall die an old maid, a disgrace to my father who refuses to help me get a good husband!"
"Please, Del. Let me in so we can talk about this."
The sobbing stopped for a minute, then Georgiana heard the sound of the lock turning. Cordelia slowly opened the door, and Georgiana gasped.
"Do I look so frightful?" she asked.
She did. Her hair lay in wild tangles, her eyes and nose red from crying. Her cheeks were bleached of colour. But what frightened Georgiana the most was the look of utter despair in Cordelia's blue eyes. She looked as though she had lost everything.
"It is nothing that cannot be repaired," she said resolutely, brushing by Del before she could change her mind and sitting on the edge of her bed.
"This can never be repaired. Even Papa will not help me." Del shut the door and locked it again. "I told him that I loved Lord Robin, and he said he would not help me."
"Would not or could not?"
"Both. He said that people did not do what you wanted them to do, and if I needed proof all I needed was to look at Anne. What is the use of being an earl and having guardianship over your troublesome niece if you cannot have your way?"
"Does Uncle Matlock wish to do this?"
Cordelia lay face down on the bed and did not speak, thereby giving Georgiana her answer.
"I cannot believe Anne did this to me." She began to cry once again. "She knows how I feel and she does not care! She never intended to help me, Georgie, and I shall never forgive her for this. Never."
"I somehow do not think so," Georgiana said. "In time, the hurt shall pass."
Cordelia raised her head. "It shall not! It is easy for you to say, because it is not you she betrayed! You do not know what it is like to have your heart ripped open by someone you trusted and loved! Someone who said they would do anything for you!"
Georgiana bit back the words she longed to say, because she knew they would only enrage Cordelia. Besides, Del knew quite well that Georgiana had felt much the same way in the past about George Wickham.
She supposed it might not be worse because George had not been a close relative, but she had almost married him.
"And to think that I told her everything, and she knew all along that...that...she would be marrying Lord Robin, and I would be miserable forever!"
"Del, until last night I do not think Anne had changed her mind about Lord Robin."
"She had you fooled as well! She had us both thinking she was going to help, when all along--"
"Be fair, Cordelia. Did she at any time prior to last night ever seem reluctant to help you? Was she not the one who came up with the idea to stay as far away from Lord Robin as she could and get him alone with you?"
"A plan which did not work."
"Only because it did not have time."
"She said she had accepted him before he left for Spain. She always intended to accept him, she just wanted to placate me so she said she agreed to the plan." Cordelia sniffed. "She claimed that until last night she had no idea how she really felt. What a lie. Anne always knows how she is feeling."
"In this instance, I do not think she did."
"She said she wanted the chance to be courted, that she would always regret giving her chance away...she had a hundred chances last year, and she gave all of them away! She could have had her pick of any man in England, but she decided that she needed to teach the ton a lesson and thus ruined any chance she had of finding a man to marry last year. Then, when a perfectly reasonable suggestion of pretending to love Lord Rupert came along, you both dismissed it as ridiculous."
"Because it would be hurting Lord Rupert when the truth is that he loves--" Georgiana clapped a hand over her mouth before she blurted out the truth. Sir Lysander had told her of Lord Axelby's feelings in the strictest of confidence.
"I have since found out that it would not hurt him at all. He is in love with Anne."
Georgiana breathed a short sigh of relief that Del had not pursued the remark further, a relief that quickly faded when she realized what she had just said.
"He does not love Anne," Georgiana said. "I am certain of that."
"He is. He told me just last night, but even though his heart must be breaking, even he is not inclined to help me."
"Perhaps because he knows it would be the wrong thing to do."
"How can it be wrong? I love Lord Robin, he loves Anne."
"Lord Robin does not love you, and Anne does not love Lord Rupert."
Cordelia stared at her. She stared angrily at her and then said, "You are supporting Anne in this."
Oh, dear. Georgiana thought to herself that she should have known Del would catch on to her point of view.
"Yes, I am."
"Do you think they are in love?"
"I cannot say. Anne has not said..." Georgiana paused.
"God help me, Georgie. I think I'm falling in love with him."
Georgiana knew that her silence gave it away. Cordelia's eyes narrowed. "She is in love with him!"
"She is not certain."
"How can she be in love with him? She barely knows him! They have done nothing but argue with each other since he returned to London! She was not even civil to him the first night he was here!"
"How can you be in love with him? You barely know him. He has done nothing but essentially ignore you since he returned to London. His attention has been focused on Anne since that night."
"I have loved him--"
"You say you have loved him for so long, but you never mentioned him once in the three years he was away."
"We all have our secrets. Do we not, little George?"
Georgiana gasped, hurt. She managed to recover and say, "You were never shy about revealing your feelings before. Now, suddenly, you are. It makes no sense."
"Did you remember George Wickham before he appeared in your life?"
"That has nothing to do--"
"Did you?"
"Not very well. I was very young when my father died, which was the last time I had seen him before he returned that summer."
"And yet the first time you saw him again, three years ago, you fell in love with him."
"Yes, but I did not claim that it was based on a prior feeling. I think you were infatuated with Lord Robin three years ago."
"Perhaps you are right, but when I saw him again I knew we were meant to be together. I knew from the moment he looked in my eyes as I walked down the stairs. I do not care what Anne and Papa say--he did not mistake me for Anne!"
Georgiana knew it was pointless to try to get Cordelia to see reason. She had her heart set on marrying Lord Robin. To a young woman accustomed to getting her way, it was going to be difficult for her to learn one of life's basic lessons--that you did not always get what you wanted.
"What do you intend to do now?" she asked.
Cordelia glared at her. "You do not honestly think I am going to tell you, do you? You are on Anne's side."
"There are no sides here, Del."
"There most certainly are. You are either for me marrying Lord Robin or for Anne marrying him. You cannot be both."
"I am for this situation being resolved with everyone being satisfied with the outcome."
"That will be impossible. Choose, Georgiana. It is her or me."
Georgiana put a hand to her throat, remembering what Sir Lysander had told her several weeks earlier, when she had said she was not involved in this situation. "Of course you are. Miss de Bourgh and Lady Cordelia are your cousins."
How foolish she had been not to realize the full impact of his statement. She had had only an inkling the previous evening, when she had encouraged Anne.
"You are not being fair," she said. "You are both my cousins. I love you equally."
"It does not seem to me that you do," Cordelia said. The coldness of her voice stunned Georgiana. "You have come to my room, telling me that you wanted to help me. You turn right around and announce that you think Anne should marry Lord Robin--"
"I only think that Anne has the right to be courted by him. Whether she chooses to marry him or not is none of my business."
"It amounts to the same thing. Look at how she acted last night! She is not a fool. The moment he even hints that he wishes to marry her, she shall have a ring on her finger before he can blink."
If Anne is smart, you are correct.
"Despite what you think, Del, I do love you both." Cordelia's jaw was jutting out, and Georgiana was struck with the mad thought that at this moment, she looked almost exactly like Anne.
It was not a comparison she would like to hear at the moment.
"You have not given me an answer."
"I do not like ultimatums. They are not fair."
"Life is unfair. You should know that by now. I know I do. Now, are you siding with Anne or with me?"
Georgiana looked down at the floor. "I...I am...I am sorry." She looked up at Cordelia, whose anger had abated, for some reason.
"Thank you. I prayed I would have an ally, and now I do." Cordelia smiled.
Georgiana sighed. "I think you misunderstand me, Del. I am sorry, but I am being forced to choose a 'side' in this, then I must choose...I must choose Anne."
Cordelia looked incredulous. "Anne?"
"Yes, Anne." Deciding that since she had made her choice, she might as well say everything she wished to say, she continued with a courage she did not completely feel. "I must repeat what I said before. You are not in love with Lord Robin. I do not doubt that you want him, but you do not love him. You do not know him and I do not think you ever shall."
"You say that with such confidence, Georgie. What gives you the right to presume that you know--"
"Because I have been where you are now. I know what it is like to love someone, and to want them, and to realize when you finally get them how little you knew them. I thought George Wickham was the perfect knight. I defended him to my brother, only to discover that he was not worth a single word."
"You are saying that Lord Robin is not worth a single word?"
"I have no doubt that he is a great man. That is not my point."
"Do you intend to make one?"
Georgiana blushed at her cousin's sarcasm but continued. "I do. I think if you continue to plot against Anne and Lord Robin and are successful in driving them apart, and somehow manage to get Lord Robin to marry you, that you shall regret it for the rest of your life. You say that you will always love him. Do you think he shall ever love you?"
Cordelia seemed to falter, and Georgiana pressed on. "Last night, when Anne sang her song, everyone who heard her and saw him knew that they were falling in love. They did nothing but fight because Anne was fighting her attraction to him--and that was due to your influence. I think you shall see a different side to them both now."
"Perhaps not," Cordelia said. "Perhaps he may tire of her."
"Perhaps. But if I were you, Del, I would not pin my hopes on it."
"Of course you would not. You have chosen Anne. You are abandoning me. Everyone in my family is abandoning me when I need them most." Cordelia put her head back on the bed and sobbed.
Georgiana rose from the bed and walked to the door. "It is not that we are abandoning you," she said quietly. "You refuse to see what is before your eyes. You must accept that it is very likely--"
"That Anne is going to be the Countess of Denby," Cordelia snapped. "I shall accept nothing. Until the day they wed, I shall not give up on him."
Georgiana felt goosebumps rising at her cousin's words. She had not a doubt that Cordelia meant it, and she worried at what trouble she could stir up until then. With a sad sigh, she opened the door and left the room, troubled by Cordelia's refusal to be reasoned with, but encouraged by the fact that for once in her life, she had stood up to someone and felt right about it.
He was so certain that it had not been real that he expected to be rejected at Matlock's doorstep the following morning. Or have a vase of flowers dumped on his head. Any number of things to tell him that the Anne de Bourgh of the night before was back to being as she was before he had left London.
He rapped on the door of Matlock's home, thinking that it was not too late for him to walk away while the dream was intact. As long as he did not come face-to-face with the reality, his dream would not collapse.
The door was opened quickly. The butler, Wilberforce, beamed upon seeing him.
"Good day, your lordship," he said, stepping aside to let him in.
"Good day, Wilberforce."
"It is a beautiful afternoon, is it not?" Wilberforce shut the door once Robin had walked in.
"Yes, it is."
"I presume you shall want to see Miss de Bourgh."
"Unless I made it up, we are to go for a walk this afternoon."
"I shall send someone for her right away, milord. Would you care to wait in the front parlor?"
"Thank you," Robin said politely. "I know the way."
Wilberforce bowed and left him to his own devices. Robin made his way into the suggested room only to find a young girl already encamped there, sprawled in an enormous chair. She was reading a heavy volume, the book not seven inches from her freckled nose. A pair of gold-rimmed spectacles sat perched on the end of that nose, guarding large violet eyes that were riveted to her reading. Her champagne-coloured hair was springing free of the heavy combs. As he watched, she absently tucked a curl behind her ear. She looked to be about fifteen or so. She looked much like Lady Cordelia, but he saw more of a resemblance to Anne. It occurred to him that this must have been what she was like ten years ago.
The girl looked up from her reading. "Whatever are you doing here?" she asked.
"I am come to pay a call on your cousin and to accompany her on a walk through the park," he replied. "Lord Robert Hamilton."
"I know who you are."
"May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"
"It is no secret. I am Lady Ariel Jade Fitzwilliam."
"Jade?"
"Mama says she thought it went rather well with the rest of it, and that she wishes she had been allowed to give me Jade as a first name."
"Ah, yes. That wonderful habit the Fitzwilliams have for naming their descendants from Shakespeare."
"If you have children with my cousin Anne, you had best be prepared for a new generation of Juliets and Isabellas. Although perhaps not. When my late aunt, Mrs. Darcy, married, she did not give her children first names from Shakespeare. I do not think their middle names are from Shakespeare, either. So you might be able to persuade Anne to let you name your children something original."
"Have you any sisters with those names?"
Lady Ariel nodded. "My younger sisters are Juliet, Isabella, and Miranda. And of course, you know my elder sister, Cordelia."
"I do indeed."
"I notice that you do not object to the idea of marrying Anne and having children. I take it the idea appeals to you."
"Should you be having this conversation?"
Lady Ariel shrugged. "I suppose not. Mama would have a fit of the vapours, and Papa would thrash about, saying that I shall never be a proper earl's daughter. And everyone else would attribute it to my being like my sisters."
"What is wrong with your sisters?" Actually, he knew what was wrong with Lady Cordelia, but he was curious to hear what this feisty girl would say.
"Most people call us spoiled, and that is so. But being the second of five girls, and the fourth of seven children, let me say with assuredness that I am not as spoiled as the rest of the family. But I get lumped in with them just the same." She set her book aside and sat up in her chair. "Cordelia is the worst. She was the eldest girl, you see, so it was only natural. But my other sisters as just as bad. Juliet reads everything she should not--"
Robin looked down at the book young Lady Ariel was reading, but she managed to cover the spine of the book before he could see it.
"Juliet is only twelve. She should not be reading what I, a mature young woman, may be allowed to read."
Robin would have laughed if he had not feared injuring her feelings. He had dim memories of wanting to seem older than he was, and he got the impression that she was at that age.
"My youngest two sisters are brats. I love them, and they are useful at times, but they have my parents well in hand and everyone knows it. The servants think they are evil."
"Are they?"
"Of course they are."
"Are you?"
"I do not think so. Perhaps in some ways. If so, it is only because I am not afraid to speak my mind."
Robin smiled at this. "It is a wonderful quality, Lady Ariel. Do not lose it."
"Mama says I must, or else I shall never find a husband. 'Men want a woman who remains silent and sweet. They do not like the idea that a woman may be as smart or even smarter than he.' In my opinion, any man who wants a stupid wife is stupid himself, and how could I ever live with a man who is stupid?"
"Excellent point."
"Thank you. I used to think I was going to end up an old maid like Anne, but now that Anne might soon be married I shall have to set my own example."
"You admire Anne?"
She nodded. "I have never seen anyone who could stand up to Papa like she does."
"Anne is unique," Robin admitted.
"That is why you like her so well, is it not?"
"Yes."
Lady Ariel smiled. "Do you happen to have a younger brother?"
"No. Unfortunately, I was an only child. And before you ask, I was the only male born in my generation of Hamiltons."
"Truly?"
"Yes."
"Good gracious. And I thought there were a lot of girls in my family. I could not imagine being the only boy amid my cousins."
"It has its' disadvantages."
"I suppose it must, although I will confess that I have wished to be an only child at times." She sighed. "It is most unfortunate that I am not a few years older, or perhaps you would have fallen in love with me instead of Anne."
Robin almost groaned. Lord, the last thing he needed was another of the Fitzwilliam girls in love with him! Cordelia was bad enough.
"I am afraid that your cousin captured my heart the first time we met," Robin said. "I would never have noticed you, and then you would have pined hopelessly for me."
"I would have done no such thing," she said indignantly. "I am not as silly as Cordelia. I would have been upset, but I would have moved on."
Robin thought of asking her just how much she knew of the current situation with her sister, but decided not to risk it. "I wish I did have a brother," he said. "I can think of no better young lady for him to marry than you."
"Even though I speak my mind, read what I should not, and wish to be like my cousin?"
"Especially because of those things."
Lady Ariel beamed. When she smiled, she was truly a beauty, lovelier than her elder sister. When this was added to her refreshing frankness, Robin sensed that she would turn London on its ear in three or four years.
He was about to ask her what she was reading when he heard someone rushing down the stairs. It could only be Anne, he thought with a mental chuckle.
"Good morning, Lord Robin. I hope I have not kept you long," she said, proving him correct as she swept into the room.
"Good morning, Miss de Bourgh. I have not been waiting long, and your young cousin has kept me entertained."
"Yes. We were just discussing what a hoyden I am," Lady Ariel added with a laugh. "And now, if you would pardon me, I am in the way. You two wish to be going."
"We shall invite you along some other time," Robin said.
"I look forward to it." She stood up, executed a quick curtsy, and left the room.
"She is a delightful girl," he said.
"Sometimes she is. Did she happen to mention that she and her sisters are not above blackmail to get what they want at times?"
"Is that a fact?"
"Yes. In fact, I am not going to be able to wear my favourite necklace to Georgiana's debut in a fortnight because Ariel has laid claim to it."
"How did she do that, exactly?"
Anne looked away from him. Robin knew instantly that it had something to do with Lady Cordelia, which meant that she was not going to tell him.
Oh, no. We are going to be as we were before last night.
"It is a long story, and I am ready for a nice walk. My aunt is ready. Shall we go?"
"Your aunt?"
"Yes. She shall be our chaperon."
Robin could not mask his disappointment, for he had hoped for a walk alone. Surely--
"We set enough tongues wagging last night, Lord Robin. I think we should prevent giving them more food for gossip right now."
"You are correct, but I had hoped to be alone with you."
"Perhaps someday." She gave him a saucy smile.
"Very well. I shall hope for better in the future and accept what must be today. Lead on, Miss de Bourgh."
Lady Matlock joined them just then, and the three of them set off for a walk through the park. As Robin walked out the door, he felt as though he were being watched. He looked up at the window above them, knowing that it was Lady Cordelia's window. The curtains moved, and though he could not see her, he knew she was watching.
It was not a pleasant sensation.
"Do you ever get the feeling that everyone knows what you are doing in this house?" he whispered to Anne.
Anne laughed heartily and said, "I did warn you that the brats are everywhere. I would not be surprised if they are watching us right now."
"I would not be surprised if they were watching the first day I came to call," he added. When Anne blushed, he knew he was correct.
"My younger daughters are a bit reckless," Lady Matlock agreed. "Juliet forever has her nose in a book she should not be reading--why, just the other day, I found her reading a book of...well, something no decent young woman should read. Isabella has been trying to emulate the current fashions, so she has been slashing her gowns to shreds in order to redo them."
"She walks around with the neckline to her waist," Anne murmured. Robin bit back his laughter.
"Miranda whirls about the ballroom and would pound on the pianoforte if I let her. I like to think that she is learning to dance gracefully and play the instrument well."
"When the truth is that she gallops about the ballroom and plays worse than I do," Anne added.
"I heard that, Anne de Bourgh."
"Come now, Aunt Matlock. I heard you tell Mrs. Lockerby just last week that you were going to lock them in their rooms until they were of age to come out in society."
"I may have said something like that, but I did not mean it. You are going to give Lord Robin an unfavourable impression of our family."
"If he is still here after getting to know me, Aunt, then I am confident that he can handle the worst traits of our family. I do possess them all, you know."
The walk continued into the fashionable parts of the park, where they chanced to meet the occasional couple doing the same thing. Lady Matlock took several opportunities to distance herself slightly from the young couple she was trailing, in order to allow them private time alone.
Robin was grateful to the woman for giving him the opportunity to talk with Anne.
"You never told me how your trip abroad went," she said.
"I did not wish to bore you with the details," he replied. "I spent most of the trip being violently sick."
"You get seasick?" She seemed surprised.
"Only when I cannot see land."
"I would never have guessed."
"Very few people know that about me. I suppose I should have warned Higgins, the Bow Street runner who accompanied me on the trip, before we set sail, but there was not time."
"Lord Rupert said that you tore out of your club with great speed that day."
"So I did."
"Were you successful in tracking down the miscreant?"
Robin hesitated before answering, but only because he did not want her aunt to hear. He looked about them and noticed that Lady Matlock had fallen back. He stopped to wait for her and said, "Yes, I was. But I do not wish for people to know that just at the moment."
"I shall tell no one," Anne said. "Were you able to recover what you had lost?"
"Most of it. Walter Blackstone and the...lady he was travelling with had managed to go through some of the money, but since we were so fortunate as to find them quickly, they were unable to spend as much as they would have liked."
"I am glad to hear of your good fortune, but I do wonder at your decision not to tell anyone. If I were you, I would put an advertisement in the newspaper announcing that I was no longer a 'bad luck earl.'" Anne said the last of this in a low voice, for her aunt was but mere steps away.
"If we find a bench anywhere in this park, I should like to sit," Lady Matlock said in a huffy voice. "You would think I had danced the night away at a ball, not you, Anne."
"I have always believed it takes more exertion to stand all evening without doing anything than it does to dance about," Anne said. "Though I did notice that you and Uncle Matlock danced the first two dances together."
"Of course. We always do, for he asked me to dance those very dances at the first St. Cecelia's ball I attended."
"Perhaps we should start that tradition," Robin said.
Anne blushed. "We shall see."
They continued on their walk, Lady Matlock soon lagging behind again.
"I think she is deliberately dragging her feet," Anne said.
"I am certain of it. Many's the time I have been walking along this path and discovered chaperons performing all sorts of tricks in order to get their charges alone with a man."
"Why do people feel that such deceptions are necessary?" Anne asked. "I suppose you have fallen prey to such traps upon occasion."
"Not once," he said. "But both of the prior courtships I have undertaken, if either could be given such a label, were of a peculiar kind."
"Sounds sort of like my supposed engagement to Mr. Darcy."
Robin stopped walking, thunderstruck. "You were engaged to Mr. Darcy?"
"Heavens, no!" She laughed. "My mother wanted me to marry him, but we both knew it was a useless endeavour. I had no interest in marrying anyone, and Fitzwilliam insisted that he would marry for love. He never loved me as anything more than a cousin, for which I am eternally grateful."
"Why is that? Do you not think he would have made you a fine husband?"
"Because..." Anne's gaze shifted to her feet and she did not finish her sentence.
"Anne, I do not want you to think you must be silent when we are together. I told you that I admire the fact that you speak your mind."
She sighed and said, "Very well. The reason I do not think we would have suited is because we are related. This abominable practice of having young women marry their cousins simply to continue a 'noble' line strikes me as wrong."
"What do you think is wrong about it?"
"For one thing, it does not allow the young couple in question the opportunity to seek out someone who might suit them better. Secondly, I have seen young women who are forced to marry relatives, and very few of the matches turn out well. The children do not turn out well, either. I also abhor Society's way of looking down on people 'not of their class.' I still occasionally hear someone make a snide comment about Mrs. Darcy's antecedents. Should the fact that she was born in the servant class make her anything less than she is?"
"Not at all," Robin said, his mouth thinning at the thought of someone out there thinking less of Elizabeth for it.
"Yet Society thinks it does. I think marrying Elizabeth was the best thing Fitzwilliam ever did. He clearly loves her, and she is equally mad for him. Yet Society would look down on the match as wrong, saying that he has 'tainted' the noble Fitzwilliam blood that runs through his veins."
"What did the rest of your family think of their marriage?" he asked out of curiosity.
"Cordelia told me that her father was shocked at the discovery of her parentage. He thought that Elizabeth had tricked him into marriage by claiming to be a noblewoman, but of course, she could not have done so."
"Given that her parents worked at Pemberley, no," Robin said with a chuckle.
"His opinion of her grew on closer acquaintance, and I am pleased to report that he is a staunch supporter of hers. My uncle may be the most frustrating man on earth, but he appreciates a person's value and not just their position in the world."
"I thought I was the most frustrating man on earth," Robin teased.
"You run a very close second. I do not live in your home."
"Not yet," Robin said. Anne blushed yet again.
"This is quite pleasant," she said, obviously changing the subject. "Walking about in the park. I did not get much chance to do this when my mother was alive."
"Do you miss her?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied. "Every day. Even though she was opinionated and proud, she loved me very much."
"Too much, it seemed, if you had to dress as a boy to attend an engagement ball at your cousin's home."
"There was that, but underneath it all, she meant well."
"Why did she think you were so weak? I have never understood that."
"When I was a child, I came down with pneumonia and nearly died. After I recovered, Mother feared losing me so she tried to protect me from anything that would bring me harm. I was rarely allowed out of the house for more than half an hour. I was encouraged to rest all the time and not to exert myself overmuch. I was weak for a long time after my illness, until Mother hired Esther." The memory brought an enigmatic smile to her lips.
"Esther?"
"My maid at first and later my ladies' companion. I did have a real companion in Mrs. Jenkinson, but she was a lazy thing and followed my mother's instructions. She would not let me do anything. But Esther took one look at me and said, 'That's enough of that, missy. You need to get out of that bed and get some fresh air.'"
"And did you?"
"For about five minutes. Then Mrs. Jenkinson discovered us outside, informed Mother, and nearly got Esther fired. After being reprimanded, Esther vowed she would never do it again."
"Did she?"
"Of course she did--in secret. Mother and Mrs. Jenkinson always rested from one to three in the afternoon, so that is when we would sneak away."
"That sounds more like the Anne de Bourgh I know."
"It is due mostly to Esther. She always believed I could be more than what my mother thought. This is not to say that my mother did not have confidence in me, for she did. She just never thought to reinforce that belief by letting me do something." Anne looked at him steadily. "Do you miss your mother?"
"Every day," he replied softly. "She was a wonderful person. I would have thought that even if she had not been my mother."
Anne stopped suddenly, subconsciously grasping his arm. "Oh, Lord," she muttered.
Robin had been concentrating on Anne and had not noticed who was walking toward them. It was Evan Brixton. "Oh, Lord," he echoed. "I suppose we are going to have to greet him since we have seen him."
"Oh, I don't know. I have been known to blatantly ignore him. You could do the same."
"Does it work?"
"No, but after a while I do manage to get to a less private area and make him look foolish for talking to me when I am not speaking to him."
Robin laughed in admiration.
"The man would not recognize a hint if it tapped him on the shoulder and said hello," Anne said.
"He was never a subtle person."
"Forget subtlety. I dropped a vase of flowers on his head and he still pesters me." She looked up at him. "I was meaning to ask you how you knew him."
"We were at Cambridge together," Robin muttered as Brixton crossed the path and, with an oily smile, bowed.
"Good afternoon, Miss de Bourgh. Hamilton," he said.
"Brixton."
"Lord Cassel...what a surprise to see you here," Anne said which left little doubt that she was not surprised at all.
"I stopped by your uncle's home to see if you would be available for a walk. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that you were gone...alone."
Anne turned to look over her shoulder and saw her aunt, moving slower than she had before but still managing to keep them within sight.
"You are mistaken, Brixton, for she is not alone. As you can see, she is with me," Robin said.
"Yes...alone. Without a chaperon. Really, Miss de Bourgh, I wonder that you would be so careless as to be alone with an unmarried gentleman."
"My aunt is walking with us. You must have missed seeing her." Anne, who was still holding Robin's arm, gave it a nudge and took a few steps forward, putting her past Brixton. Robin did not hesitate to continue walking with her.
"It is a glorious day, is it not?" The man was persistent. With bitter memories, Robin recalled just how persistent the man could be.
Anne said nothing, but gave Robin a pointed look. Robin took that to mean she would be leading them toward the more populated walkways, which had the drawback of ending their pleasant privacy.
"Have I mentioned how lovely you were looking today, Miss de Bourgh?"
Robin exchanged a look with Anne. He saw the humour brimming in her eyes as a wicked smile curved her lips. Still, neither of them said a word.
"You should not be holding his arm like that. You shall give people the wrong idea."
Anne stopped walking. "What would be the wrong idea, Lord Cassel?"
"It...it shows a want of propriety. A young woman should never take the arm of a man she does not have an interest in."
"What makes you think I do not have an interest in Lord Robin? At the moment, all of London thinks I do." She gripped Robin's arm tighter, and despite his annoyance at having to deal with Evan Brixton, he was pleased with her action.
"Come now, my dear Anne."
"I believe the lady told you last night that she did not wish you to address her in such familiar terms," Robin said.
"Hamilton, I know that having been turned down twice you are not overly familiar with the intricacies of a courtship, but Anne and I have known each other for over a year. I think we are well past the stage of calling each other by formal names."
"An acquaintance of ten years would not be enough to allow you the familiarity of calling me by my first name," Anne said. "And I have never consented to being courted by you."
"Which brings me to my point. I know you might get upset at me for doing this, but I feel it is in Hamilton's best interest to tell him about us, my sweet."
"There is nothing to tell about us, Lord Cassel."
"I have been courting you--or as close as any man could get to it with you--for a year and you call that nothing?"
"Come to think of it, yes." Anne smiled. "Now, please excuse us. Robin and I are enjoying the afternoon...together."
Robin noticed her use of his first name without his title...and he knew that Brixton had as well. With a curt bow, the man turned on his heel and walked away.
Once he was gone, Anne sighed. "Forgive me for taking the liberty with your name, but it did seem to work."
"I would prefer it if you would continue to do so," Robin told her. "If I may be permitted to call you Anne when we are alone."
"I should say no, but I shall not."
"Good."
They walked for a minute in silence until Anne asked, "Robin, I know why I do not like Lord Cassel. Why do you not like him?"
Robin could not answer her question. It was a delicate matter and not one for a woman's ears.
"Please tell me. I do not care if it is considered scandalous or something a woman should not know. Perhaps if more women did know about such things, they would not happen as often."
He took another minute before telling her the tale of the young woman he, Rupert, and Lysander had known at Cambridge, and what had happened to her. When he finished his story, Anne's eyes were filled with tears--and anger.
"Why did none of you do anything to him?" Anne asked. "He deserved to have the same done to him."
"We thought of it, but Lysander managed to keep a cool head about the business and refused to let us carry out the plan. I have always suspected that he was behind Brixton's financial straits, but I never wanted to ask. The less said about him, the better. But now you know the whole of my history with Evan Brixton."
"I am glad I know."
"If you had continued to refuse me, I intended to tell your uncle about him." He looked at her with amusement. "You would have hated me for the rest of my life."
"Why?"
"Because there would have been no way your uncle would have left you alone at Rosings. I would not be surprised if Brixton had plans to abduct you there once you came into your inheritance and force you to marry him."
"Nothing on earth would have tempted me to do that--then or now."
"There are places and people who would have overlooked your lack of consent. You would not have had a choice."
Anne did not say anything, but Robin felt he had made his point. At the very least, if she did not marry him, she would not do something so foolish as to be alone when she left London.
They continued their walk through the park under the watchful and bemused eyes of Lady Matlock, and the far more watchful eyes of London society.