“It sounds as if you have everything under control.”
“I did.” Lady Putney’s smile slipped. “Until Anna Thraxton arrived.”
“The governess?”
“Yes. She’s managed to do some remarkable things with the children, but what concerns me more is the fact that she has become close to the earl. Too close.”
“Greyley with a governess? I cannot see it.”
“You forget that we are talking about Anna Thraxton. She is a member of the ton in her own right. It is nothing more than a flirtation at this point, but if Thraxton convinces Greyley to wed her instead of Charlotte Melton, we will never get our hands on that mine.”
“Is Thraxton such a threat?”
“Greyley is fascinated. I can see it.”
“What do you need from me?”
Lady Putney flashed a brilliant smile. “I want you to use that considerable charm of yours and win Miss Thraxton for yourself.”
Bloody hell, what a tangled mess. Rupert raked a hand through his hair. “I like Greyley.”
“More than your handsome allowance?”
Rupert’s heart thudded a sickening beat. All his life he’d been taught to demand the best and to do whatever was necessary to procure it. And some part of him had seen that Anthony was not that way. He was honest, and generous in a way, and as strong as they came. Rupert admired those traits, but looking deep into his own soul, he knew he wasn’t that kind of a man. He was an Elliot born and bred and there was no way to escape it.
Despising himself all the more, he dragged himself upright, then stood staring down at his mother. God how he hated the fact that he was her offspring, that he shared her blood and her vanity and every other ugly thing about her. “I’ll do what I can to attach Miss Thraxton’s affections. But I warn you, if Greyley protests even once, I will cease.”
Lady Putney smirked. “He won’t. His pride won’t let him.”
“I wish I had that same pride,” Rupert muttered, turning toward the door.
She placed a hand over his arm, her eyes gleaming with avarice. “You never will. You are an Elliot and there is nothing you can do to change that.” Laughing lightly, she returned to her dressing table, where she began applying a thick green cream to her face. “Miss Thraxton rides every morning. Perhaps that would be the best time to begin.”
Rupert nodded tiredly. “I’ll do this one thing, but that’s all. Once the mine is yours, you must promise to reestablish my allowance and never again interfere in my life.”
She looked at him, amusement darkening her blue eyes until they were the same color as his. “Rupert, my dear, sweet boy, never fear. Once I have that mine in my name, why would I bother with you?”
“And Mr. Mills?”
“I will leave him alone, too.” She made a face through the green cream. “And gladly, for he sweats like a pig.”
Rupert gave her a derisive smile. “You have always been a woman of great discrimination, Mother. I will leave you to your fond thoughts.” With a mocking bow, he left, his head aching fiercely, a sick weight in his stomach. Once he reached his own room, he immediately crossed to the window and threw it open. He leaned out and took deep, gulping breaths of fresh air, trying to calm the need to retch.
He looked down at the window ledge where his hand rested, a heavy gold ring on one finger. He’d never had to fend for himself and he wasn’t quite sure how to do such a thing. Without his quarterly funds, he was nothing.
As distasteful as it was, he had no choice. Beginning tomorrow, he would begin his seduction of Anna Thraxton. He only hoped Anthony’s affections were not strongly engaged. Rupert closed the window and went to drink himself to sleep.
Chapter 21
Women prefer to draw blood using words. It can cause just as much havoc, but it doesn’t stain the carpet.
Viscount Hunterston to Lord Burton, while waiting on their wives outside a meeting of the Society for Wayward Women
Sir Phineas found Anna in the courtyard early the next morning. “Where are you off to?”
She barely spared him a glance as she allowed the groom to assist her onto her horse. “For a nice, quiet ride.”
“You just returned from a ride not an hour ago.”
“That was with the children. It was hardly quiet.”
Sir Phineas leaned on his cane. She was up to something, he could tell from the gleam in her eyes. “When will you be returning?”
“By noon. Maybe sooner.”
He didn’t at all care for the way her hands clenched about the reins. The horse must not have liked it either, for it snorted uneasily. “What about your charges?”
“They are practicing their play this morning. Lily has them well in hand.”
Sir Phineas reached up and placed his hand on her knee. “Anna, is all well?”
“Of course,” she said lightly, though her cheeks pinkened. “I’ve just not been sleeping well, that’s all.”
Hm. This was getting more and more interesting. Sir Phineas made it a habit to wander down to the library late at night. He liked being up and about when no one else was, though for the past two days, his solitary sojourns had been interrupted by Greyley. Apparently the earl was having a difficult time sleeping as well.
Whatever was bothering Anna and the earl, Sir Phineas only hoped it was the same ailment. In the meantime, a little exercise couldn’t hurt. Perhaps it would take some of the pinched look from her face.
He patted her knee and stepped back. “Have a lovely ride, dear.” She managed a quick smile, though Sir Phineas could tell her heart was not in it, before turning her mount and galloping across the park as if the hounds of hell were in pursuit.
He watched her for a moment, admiring her command of the horse and her excellent form.
“She’s quite a horsewoman, isn’t she?” came a voice from behind Sir Phineas.
He turned and found himself facing a tallish young man dressed in the height of fashion, his blue riding coat perfectly fitted to his slender form. Sir Phineas recognized the dark brown hair and the blue eyes of the Elliots. “My granddaughter has always been able to ride.”
“So I can see.”
Sir Phineas frowned. There was something familiar about the man. “Pardon me, but have we met?”
The young man pulled his gaze from where Anna’s figure disappeared in a thicket of trees. “I’m sorry; I should have introduced myself. I’m Rupert Elliot. I came from town last night to see my mother, Lady Putney.”
Ah, so this was one of Lady Putney’s spawn. Sir Phineas bowed his own greeting. “Delighted to meet you. I’m—”
“Sir Phineas. Greyley told me you and your granddaughter were staying here.” The young man flashed a rueful smile down at his clothes. “I thought to see if Miss Thraxton might like some company, but I was a little late rising.”
Phineas noted the circles under the young man’s eyes and came to his own conclusions. Still…perhaps there was some information to be gleaned. Sir Phineas smiled in his most winning manner. “A pity you missed Anna. Fortunately, I’m going for a carriage ride in a half hour, if you’d like to join me.”
“Some other time, perhaps. I think I’ll just go back to bed.”
Sir Phineas gave a polite nod and watched the young man wander back toward the house. Before he reached the top step, the front door opened and Lady Putney emerged. Sir Phineas lifted his brow at that—it was rare to see the virago up before noon. As he watched, Lady Putney and Rupert engaged in a quiet, intense argument, the end result being that Rupert, now flushed a deep red, turned on his heel and strode inside. Lady Putney, her eyes narrowed in a cold, calculating manner, turned to stare at the point where Anna had disappeared.
As Sir Phineas stood, stroking his chin, Lady Putney caught sight of him. Her lips folded into an instant false smile before she, too, turned and went back into the house. Sir Phineas’s gaze remained fixed on the front door of Greyley House. After several moments, he gripped his cane anew and went in search
of the earl. Something was afoot and he was not about to let someone ambush his future son-in-law.
A warm morning breeze stirred the bushes. Anna’s horse shied, rolling her eyes and snorting. “Easy, girl,” Anna said, bringing the spirited mare under control. She loved Majesty and would miss her when the time came to leave Greyley.
The thought sent an unexpected lump to her throat. Damn it, what was she doing? she asked herself as she guided the horse out of the woods and into a wide field sprinkled with yellow flowers. Being silly, she instantly answered, then grimaced.
She hated it when she was honest with herself. Most people managed to evade home truths with astonishing ease, but her conscience was louder than necessary. Still, she had to admit that it was madness to seek out a woman who was, in a very vague sort of way, her own rival.
No, not a rival, really. Charlotte was apparently the type of woman Greyley wanted for a countess, while Anna was…well, she wasn’t sure what she was. A prime candidate to mess up her life by falling in love with a man she couldn’t have.
Not that she was in love, of course. She just had a very sincere liking for Greyley. Despite his offer to make her his mistress, she had to admit that there were things about him that nearly redeemed him. He was kind to the children, took care of his troublesome family, and worked hard to provide for everyone around him. Plus he had a wicked sense of humor and could kiss a woman until her bones melted. Anthony Elliot was a very disturbing package indeed.
And that was why it was so important that she meet Charlotte Melton. It wasn’t because Anna was necessarily jealous of the woman, it was just that she wanted to be certain that Charlotte was everything she should be. Greyley was, after all, the brother of Anna’s best friend. And he deserved something better than a hard-hearted adventuress. So here Anna was, on her way to assess the nature of Greyley’s betrothed.
It was the least she could do, considering the circumstances. Besides, if she had a brother who might be on the verge of making such an error, Anna was certain that Sara would make the same effort on her behalf.
Anna rounded a corner of the path and found herself alongside a low stone wall that encased a large, well-laid out garden. This was it. Anna unhooked her knee from the pommel and slid to the ground. She tied Majesty to a tree limb, then entered the gate, glad to see the outline of a lovely house not far down the path.
She took a moment to smooth her skirts and tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She was just dusting a smudge of mud off her skirt when she saw a young girl walking down the path.
Dressed in a morning gown of white muslin, her blond ringlets bouncing with each step, her blue eyes wide, she appeared annoyingly young and innocent. She was holding a small book in one hand, though she seemed far more interested in humming a waltz and dancing over the stones in the path than else. The girl appeared all of sixteen and was obviously Charlotte Melton’s younger sister or a house guest of some sort.
Anna coughed and the girl came to an abrupt halt, gasping as if frightened.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Anna said with a friendly smile, “but I’m afraid I’ve lost my way. Could you give me directions?”
The young lady’s startled expression did not abate. “Who…who are you?”
“Anna Thraxton.” She gave a perfunctory curtsy. “I’m the governess at Greyley House.”
The girl brightened. “Oh! Greyley House! I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Thraxton. I’m Charlotte Melton. I—”
“You can’t be!” Anna burst out. “You are Greyley’s fiancée?”
Deep, rich color flooded Charlotte’s cheeks. On many women, a blush enhanced natural beauty, bringing a lovely color to normally pale skin. But on Charlotte’s ultra white countenance, the deep color made her appear overheated. “W-we have not yet announced the engagement,” she stammered, a panic-stricken look in her face.
“No, but everything is understood, isn’t it?”
“I-I suppose so.” The girl wrung her hands, appearing absolutely wretched.
Anna abandoned all thoughts that Charlotte Melton might be a hard-hearted adventuress. The poor thing looked ready to faint. “Do you mind if we sit in the shade awhile?” Anna smiled kindly. “I’m a bit tired.”
“Oh! Of course.” Charlotte led the way to a bench nestled among some trees and surrounded on one side by lovely red flowers. She perched uneasily on the edge of the bench and waited for Anna to seat herself. “Perhaps I should send someone to fetch something to drink.”
Anna lifted her hat, brushing her hair from her damp face. “No, thank you! I don’t wish to be any trouble. I just need a moment to rest.”
Charlotte glanced around. “Where is your groom?”
“Didn’t bring one.” Anna waved a hand. “I wasn’t about to wait for some footman on a slug. Not with weather like this.” She glanced up at the blue sky that peeped between the trees. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a lovelier day.”
“Except the heat. It made me feel ill. I’m supposed to be sitting quietly on the terrace, but I got tired of the quiet. Besides, I thought it might be cooler in the garden.”
“I daresay it is. Greyley House is somewhat frigid indoors, but then it is built like a tomb.”
Charlotte looked shocked. “Do you really think so?”
“Who wouldn’t? Have you ever seen the place?”
“Yes, I have.” Charlotte swallowed with a visible effort. “It is not very hospitable, is it?”
Anna laughed. “Go ahead and say it—it’s a dungeon! When I first saw it, I half expected a horde of angry prisoners to come swarming up out of the bowels of the place, intent on vengeance.”
Charlotte had to smile. “That’s exactly what I thought when I first saw it, but Mama said I was being fanciful. She told me not to say anything except that I thought it was lovely.”
“As ugly as the outside is, I have to admit that the earl’s done wonders with the inside. Have you seen the furnishings in his library?”
“No. I mean, yes.” Charlotte sighed unhappily. “I’m sure I did, but I was too nervous to pay much attention. Mama told me that it was very important that I learn to feel more at ease about the earl. I do hope I can.”
Anna wondered if Charlotte bleated about “Mama” in every sentence when talking to Greyley. “The earl is quite taken with that pile of rocks. He was not happy when I suggested the foyer needed a mural.”
Charlotte’s blue eyes grew wide. “Was he angry?”
“I daresay, but he doesn’t bite. At least not that I’ve ever seen. And if he had the least inclination to snap at someone, it would be me.”
“Doesn’t he like you?”
“No. In fact, I’m quite certain he detests me.” Or he did whenever he wasn’t trying to lure her to his bed. She sent a guilty glance at Charlotte. “I daresay it’s a good thing I’m leaving soon.”
“Because he frightens you?”
“Heavens, no. Greyley doesn’t frighten me in the least. If anything, his high-handed manner makes me want to provoke him even more.”
Charlotte sighed. “I wish I had your spirit. Mama says I mustn’t act frightened when Lord Greyley calls, but he’s so large and he…he growls.”
Anna had to laugh at that. “Yes, he does. Rather like a bear.” She took Charlotte’s hand and patted it just as she would have done Elizabeth’s. “Don’t let Greyley frighten you. Give him some time and you’ll get used to his ways.”
“Do you think so?”
“Absolutely.”
Charlotte squeezed Anna’s hand. “I’m so glad I met you! You are the first person I’ve been able to talk to about—” She reddened. “I’m glad you came.”
So was Anna. Charlotte wasn’t anything like the hard-faced fortune hunter she’d expected. Anna tried to picture Charlotte at Greyley House, facing down Anthony’s overbearing manners, Lady Putney’s acid tongue, and the children’s rambunctious manners. It simply would not do.
Still…Anna looked carefully at Charl
otte. At least the girl seemed kind-hearted and though she was obviously naive, intelligence shone in her soft blue eyes. “Charlotte, may I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“What are your expectations for this marriage?”
“I’m honored that Lord Greyley has chosen me as his future countess.” Charlotte’s answer sounded as if she’d rehearsed it for hours.
Anna frowned. “So you want a title.”
“Mama says having one will be the nicest thing. And then there’s Lord Greyley’s standing.”
“You mean wealth?”
“I’m not supposed to talk about—”
“Yes, yes. What else?”
Charlotte blinked her eyes. So blue they made the sky look pale, and fringed with thick lashes, they made Anna uncomfortably aware of her own rather colorless gray eyes.
Charlotte frowned. “Besides the title and the standing, what else should I expect?”
“Children, respect, love…” Anna waited, staring intently at Charlotte’s face.
“Mama says one should never mention such vulgar things as love. As for children…” The younger woman cleared her throat, her face blazing red once more. “Of course the earl will expect me to produce an heir for the continuation of the family line. One can only hope that will be all.”
There was such a strain to her voice that Anna impulsively hugged her. “There, I’m sure Greyley would be more than happy with only one child.” Anna suddenly felt sorry for Charlotte. She seemed to genuinely fear Greyley and no matter how silly that was, it could not be comfortable for her.
Charlotte managed a shy smile. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to. I hope you will visit often?” There was such a look of entreaty in the girl’s eyes that Anna’s heart expanded.
The poor thing—all alone with no one to advise her but her mama, who sounded like quite a ninny. If Greyley wished these nuptials to prosper, then there was serious work to be done. Suddenly Anna knew what she would do. For Sara’s sake, and Greyley’s as well, she would help Charlotte become the perfect countess.