Summer Folly Page 13

  “It is a signal honor, to be singled out by the Prince,” Julia said. “I wonder he has not paid such attention to Elizabeth.”

  “Oh, no, Mother, I wouldn’t want it,” Beth protested. “He quite terrifies me.”

  Giles smiled at her. “He was taken with Anne, though. I’ll wager you’ll be the one receiving invitations here in the future, not I.”

  “Oh, do stop funning me,” Anne said, for some reason annoyed with him. He hadn’t teased her like this since—since they had both been young, she realized with surprise.

  “Anne Warren? Oh, it is you!” a voice said, and Anne turned, to see two women approaching her. Mrs. Starling and her daughter Letitia, Lady Buckram. “I thought it was you,” Letitia went on, “but Mama wasn’t so sure.”

  “Hello, Lady Buckram,” Anne said, smiling coolly. Of course you knew it was me, you old cat. You cut me on the Steyne not a week ago. “How nice to see you again.”

  “Oh, and I you,” Letitia gushed, reaching for Anne’s hand. “It has been so very long, has it not, since we were girls together? I hear you have been happy in Jamaica, and of course, I am a countess now.”

  “Yes, I know.” Which meant, by the rules of protocol, that Anne should curtsy to her, but she had no desire to.

  “Did you ever think that one day we would meet again, and here, of all places?” Letitia waved her hand about. “Such a terrible place, but then, one simply does not refuse an invitation from Prinny! Even if he is bad ton.”

  “I found him charming,” Anne said, in the tone she used when reproving Jamie. “It was an honor to walk with him.”

  Jealousy flashed in Letitia’s eyes, and then was masked. “Of course. They say Prinny does prefer older women.”

  “Don’t hoax me, Letitia!” Anne was laughing. “You forget I know to the day your age! You are, let’s see, how much older than I?”

  “Oh, la, as if that matters! But it is lovely to see you again, Anne, and I do hope we can get together and have a comfortable coze.”

  “Of course,” Anne said, her smile distant. Not if my life depended upon it. What had she ever had in common with this shallow, malicious creature? “I must beg to be excused. I see that the duke requires my presence.”

  “Oh, of course. Such a handsome man. So interesting to see you two together again, after what happened.”

  “Yes, isn’t it?” Anne kept her smile firmly in place, and gathered up her skirts. “It was nice to see you again, Letitia, Mrs. Starling. I wish you both good evening.” She turned, her head high. “Witches,” she muttered.

  “What?” Giles said, materializing suddenly at her side, and she gave him a dazzling smile.

  “Which sight do I see first? Though I’ve seen them all with the Prince already.”

  Giles gave her a suspicious look. “I realize I do not compare with Prinny—”

  “Oh, never.”

  “—but I will endeavor to do my best.”

  “Oh, la, I suppose that will have to do,” she said, in a fair imitation of Letitia’s flirtatious manner.

  Giles glanced from her to Letitia, who, with her mother, was staring at them and talking, and grinned. “Amazing how things change after a simple meeting with a prince.”

  Anne laughed. “Does this mean I’ve been accepted again?”

  “Probably.” Giles smiled down at her. “Does it matter?”

  “No, not really. But it should be much more fun now.”

  “Fun,” he chided. “Life isn’t fun, Anne.”

  “I dare you to look at this room and not enjoy yourself.”

  Giles followed the sweep of her hand, and his mouth quirked. “Very well. You’re right, this once.”

  “Of course.” Anne smiled at him, but her opportunity to tease was ended by the approach of more people. Goodness, Lady Jersey, one of the powerful patronesses of Almack’s, among others. All spoke to Giles first, greeting him as an old friend, but most also turned quickly to Anne. No shunning here, no snubbing, Anne noted with a mixture of relief and amusement. She had indeed been accepted back into society.

  It was a long, but pleasant, evening. The Tremonts conversed with nearly everyone present, and joined in the applause when the Prince, who genuinely loved music, joined in with the Misses Liddell to sing some country songs. At length, though, the Prince took his leave, and the evening was over. The Tremont party was glad to reach their carriage, riding home in tired, contented silence.

  Once home, Anne slipped into Jamie’s room to check on him, and was startled to see him sitting on the floor, playing with his toy soldiers by the light of a single candle. “Mama!” he exclaimed, jumping up and running to her.

  “Jamie, whatever are you doing up at this time of night?” she said, picking him up and depositing him on the bed.

  “I was waiting for you. You were gone so long, Mommy.”

  “You should be asleep.”

  “See what I did, Mama.” He scrambled off the bed and knelt on the floor, his eyes shining. “I’ve set up a battle, just the way Uncle Giles showed me. Play with me.”

  Anne sighed, going to her knees beside him. As wound up as he was, it would take time to calm him enough to sleep. “Very well, Jamie, but just for a little while.”

  She was on her hands and knees, searching out a soldier who had been knocked down and had landed under the bed, when there was a footfall at the door. “Thus we have Prinny’s current favorite,” an amused voice said.

  Anne jerked back, banging her head on the bedframe. “Ouch,” she said, and looked up at Giles, leaning against the doorjamb. “Unfair. You shouldn’t creep up on a lady.”

  “A lady shouldn’t be kneeling on the floor.” Giles crouched down beside Jamie, studying the soldiers with a critical eye. “Good tactics, lad, flanking her army like that. Winning, are you?”

  Jamie was frowning in concentration as he advanced a soldier toward Anne’s line. “Yes. Mama doesn’t know how to play. Not like you, Uncle Giles.”

  “Ladies rarely have a grasp of tactics, Jamie,” Giles said, gravely.

  “Oh, definitely unfair.” Anne rose, smiling. She was acutely aware of how she must appear, still in her satin court dress, her headdress askew and her hair falling about her shoulders. “Jamie should be abed.”

  “So he should. Why are you keeping him up, Anne?”

  Anne gave him a look. “Because—oh, never mind. Come, Jamie. It really is time for you to go to bed.”

  “I don’t want to, Mommy.”

  “Come, James.” Giles bent and lifted Jamie, settling him on the bed. “I’ll tell you about the Prince, shall I?”

  Jamie surprised himself by yawning. “Yes, Uncle Giles.”

  “Good lad. Under the covers with you, now.”

  Anne, smiling, went to sit in the chair across the room. Tired as she was, she didn’t at all mind letting someone else care for Jamie just now. He had little contact with men, except for Obadiah, and she sometimes worried about the lack of a father in his life. Not that Freddie had been a wonderful parent. Certainly he had never talked with Jamie like this; instead, he’d considered the child a nuisance, and had been inclined to impatience. This was how it should have been with him. This was how it could have been, with her and Giles, had she married him; it was how it still could be, if...

  Anne sat very still, as Giles’s voice lulled Jamie, and her, into dreams. If things hadn’t happened as they had. If Giles didn’t see her as just a responsibility. If he still loved her. Good heavens, she thought, stunned. She still loved Giles.

  Chapter Eleven

  Though Anne had made no sound, Giles looked up at that moment, and their eyes locked. She wanted to look away, she needed to look away, to hide what she was certain was in her eyes, but she couldn’t. There was something between them, a bond primal in its intensity, almost tangible, drawing her inexorably to him. For the life of her she could do nothing but return his gaze, molten silver, so fiery she could feel the heat of it across the room. She was melting under it,
she was burning up, and she could not stand it. Before she could do anything foolish, such as throwing herself into his arms, she wrenched her gaze away.

  Giles looked down, released from the strange force that had held him. “He’s asleep,” he whispered. What had just happened to him was extraordinary, and he wasn’t altogether certain he liked it. Anne. As unselfconscious as a child, playing with her son in her expensive court dress, grasping the essentials of life and not worrying about the details. That touched him. It was as it should be, a woman caring more about the people in her life than for her consequence, yet it was rare in their world. Anne had always been different, lively, full of fun, apt to make up her own mind on matters. He really shouldn’t have been surprised when she had returned to England with decided opinions on how her life should be run. He admired that.

  And just when had that happened? When had annoyance turned to admiration? When had he become so aware of her, of the way the rich satin clung to curves just a bit too lush for fashion, of spun-gold hair that refused to be tamed, of eyes so blue he could drown in them? He was over her. What she had done to him in the past had hurt, but he’d surmounted it long ago. He didn’t understand why memories should be coming back now to haunt him: Anne, in his arms, returning their first kiss with an eagerness and an ardor that had belied her obvious innocence; Anne, an enticing woman in a daring gown of coral and white; Anne, clad only in a cotton nightgown, pressed up against him in a darkened hall. He wanted her. God, he wanted her, and it was madness. When the summer was over, she would go. She had made that quite clear. He would do well to guard himself, and not risk his happiness on a summer folly.

  “It’s about time,” Anne whispered back, and Giles looked up. Once again their gazes locked. “‘Tis late. I’ll just tuck him in and then go to bed.”

  “Of course.” Giles rose. “Good night, Anne.”

  “Good night.”

  In her room, Anne closed her door and then sat on the edge of her bed, hands clasped in her lap, staring ahead unseeingly. She loved Giles. Dear God, she loved him. She, who had sworn she would never let herself fall under a man’s power again, had allowed herself to fall in love with a man who assumed power arrogantly and casually, as if it were his right. No, that was wrong. She hadn’t fallen in love with him; she simply had never stopped loving him, in spite of what he had done seven years ago, in spite of his treatment of her now. She loved him, and she suspected she always would.

  There was no future in it, of course. There couldn’t be. They were different; their lives ran along different paths. Though she enjoyed society life, she knew she didn’t belong here, following all the rules and regulations and never being herself, never being just Anne. Giles would never leave England, and his responsibilities, for Jamaica. She could see him there, though, wearing comfortable breeches and a loose shirt open at the neck, his skin bronzed by the sun and his hair lightened. It was so powerful an image that she swallowed. Master of all he surveyed. Including her.

  Her expression hardened. No. Never including her. No man would ever be her master again. She would not put herself, or her son, in such a vulnerable position. Besides, come the end of the summer, she would be gone. It was hard, and it hurt. Oh, how it hurt. It was something she would simply have to live with. She had dealt with much in her life; she could deal with this. Even if part of herself died.

  Now that she had been accepted back into society, Anne found that many opportunities were open to her that hadn’t been before. Invitations began to pour into the house on the Steyne. People who had ignored her existence before suddenly were on the warmest of terms with her, and those who had at least acknowledged her now appeared to consider themselves her bosom bows. The men who had previously ogled her still eyed her with admiration, but from a respectful distance. She was, in short, quite respectable, and all because the Prince of Wales had smiled at her. The fickleness of public opinion amused her. Giles wasn’t prey to it; he made up his own mind. But, there, she wouldn’t think about Giles.

  One morning she and Beth joined the fashionable promenade along the Steyne, walking on the brick sidewalk and nodding at acquaintances. Beth looked pretty in a walking dress of celestial blue, with ruching at the throat, puffed long sleeves, and braid down the front. Her soft brown hair peeked out from under a chip straw bonnet trimmed with cornflowers and ribbons to match her gown. Complementing her, Anne was again in her primrose walking dress; it was comfortable and cheery, and she knew she looked well in it. With the matching parasol to shelter her from the sun, she felt quite at peace with the world. On such a clear, sunshiny day, receiving greetings from her acquaintances, how could she not? If she wished that it were Giles beside her, not Beth, she kept that desire well hidden. Even from herself.

  Eventually they walked into the colonnaded entrance of Donaldson’s, the fashionable circulating library, where the ton gathered to exchange books, read the latest London newspapers and to gossip, much as in London. It was delightful, Anne thought, browsing along the shelves and choosing a book intriguingly entitled The Mysteries of the Forest, to have access to the latest books. In Jamaica one had to wait until they were transported across the sea, sometimes with whole volumes missing. That was one advantage to living in England.

  “My dear, I was hoping to see you here today,” a voice said, and Anne turned to see Felicity. “I particularly wished to speak with you.”

  Anne smiled warmly. “Felicity. How nice to see you. Have you heard that I am no longer to be snubbed?”

  “Ridiculous, isn’t it? Oh, not that you’re accepted, I think that’s marvelous, but that you shouldn’t have been in the first place. And all because of what happened in the past. What does it matter today that you jilted Giles?”

  Anne’s eyes were startled. “I didn’t exactly jilt him, ma’am.”

  “Oh, forgive me, that was a poor choice of words. I meant nothing by it. But then, you must know I believe in plain speaking. That is a lovely frock, by the way.”

  “Thank you.” Anne’s smile broadened. She couldn’t take offense at what this woman said; there was no harm meant, and besides, she had never been part of the movement to ostracize Anne. That was the sign of a true friend. “Goodness, who are those handsome men with your daughters? Soldiers, Felicity!”

  Felicity turned. “Oh, yes, aren’t they marvelous? Well, the barracks of the Tenth Light Dragoons are nearby, you know, the Prince’s own regiment, and the officers are delightful young men. Prinny makes certain of that. Why, he chose this very same regiment for Brummell. Quite good family, too,” she said, reverting to more current topics. “Mr. Seward, there on Susan’s right, is a cornet in the regiment. He is from an old Leicestershire family. Lieutenant Bancroft is a younger son of the Earl of Stratham.”

  “Heavens. Quite good company for Susan, then.”

  “Oh, yes. Though, if I miss my guess, Lieutenant Bancroft has been stealing glances at you, Beth.”

  “Oh, no.” Beth was standing at Anne’s side, her cheeks pink. “Whyever should he look at me?”

  “Because you are a very pretty girl. Come, would you like an introduction?”

  “Oh, no,” Beth protested, but too late. Felicity was already bustling across the room toward her daughter. “Oh, no, Anne, I shall die of embarrassment, I know I shall.”

  Anne smiled at her. “I suspect it’s very hard to argue with Lady Whitehead once she takes something into her head. Don’t worry, Beth, I’ll be right beside you, and who knows? He may even become your beau.”

  “Oh, no. Mother would never allow it.”

  “But your mother isn’t here. Hello, Miss Whitehead. How delightful to see you again.”

  Susan made a quick curtsy. “Mrs. Templeton.”

  “And these young men are with the Tenth,” Felicity said, making the introductions. She had been right, Anne noted with some amusement. Lieutenant Bancroft, a tall young man with light brown hair and a gentle, but strong, face, did keep looking at Beth, who was blushing quite prettily. Oh,
how wonderful it would be if she did find a beau, someone to take her away from Tremont Castle and give her a life of her own. Marriage might not be suitable for herself, but for Beth it could very well signal independence.

  “And that is what I wished to talk with you about, Anne,” Felicity was saying, breaking Anne out of her reverie. “Life has been so terribly dull lately, I was thinking we should make an excursion to Battle, to see the Abbey.”

  “I think that’s a marvelous idea. I never have been to that part of the world.”

  “We’ll go Tuesday next, if the weather is fine,” Felicity went on. “I understand there’s a fine inn there for luncheon, and the Abbey is well worth seeing. Not too many people, Anne, just a small party, but I would be delighted if you and Beth would join us. Giles and the duchess, too, of course.”

  “I can’t speak for them, of course, but it does sound enjoyable, does it not, Beth?”

  Beth bent her head. “Yes,” she whispered, and her eyes peeked up for just a moment at Lieutenant Bancroft, who smiled in return.

  “Mama, I would dearly love to have a new frock for the day,” Susan said, interrupting in her eagerness. “Do you think—”

  “Yes, child, though I don’t believe the gentlemen wish to hear a discussion of feminine fripperies.” Both men protested at that, adding that they would be happy to provide escort for them. “Very well.” Felicity smilingly gave in. “There are some items we need to purchase today. Anne, Beth, won’t you please join us?”

  Anne smiled and shook her head. “I’d like to, but I give my son his lessons in the morning and I must return home.”

  “Oh, so must I,” Beth said.

  “Please, do come, Beth,” Susan said. “We hardly ever get a chance to talk. Please allow her, Mrs. Templeton.”

  “Susan, you are being most forward,” Felicity reproved.

  Anne smiled. “It isn’t my decision to make, but I do think Beth would enjoy it.”

  “Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Beth protested.

  “Please come, Lady Elizabeth.” Lieutenant Bancroft smiled. “We’ll watch out for you.”