Page 17 of The Language of Love

Chapter 3

Annis waited a moment after the sitting-room door closed behind the two men before releasing the laughter she’d been suppressing for the past quarter of an hour. “Well, what an interesting pair.”

An expression of wondrous disbelief flickered across Freddie’s beautiful features. “That is putting it mildly.”

“Lord Rotherhithe did not seem to know much about his family history or even his new house,” Annis observed.

“Nor about domesticated fowl.”

Annis chortled. “What kind of person doesn’t know a chicken from a turkey?”

Freddie’s expression turned grim. “I suppose I shall soon find out.”

“Perhaps he needs spectacles but is too vain to wear them?” Annis suggested.

Freddie came as close to grunting as Annis had ever heard.

“Are you worried about launching him into society, Freddie?”

“I’m not exactly worried. Such a man—handsome and rich and titled—will always be a success. But it will be…” Her mouth flexed into a frown, and she gave a slight shake of her head. “I am not worried,” she insisted.

It sounded like Freddie was trying to reassure herself more than Annis.

Annis could not blame Freddie; it was difficult to imaging turning such a gormless man loose in a London ballroom.

“He does not seem like the sort to have made a fortune from his wits.”

Freddie laughed; the rare musical sound as beautiful as its owner. “No, he does not.”

“In fact, he reminded me of a brainless young buck in his first season.”

“Yes, although he is about fifteen years too old.”

“It quite surprised me that he knew so little about his lineage.”

“That doesn’t concern me as much as some of his other comments.” She gave Annis an amused look. “Not everyone is as inquisitive about such matters as we might be, my dear.”

“You mean as inquisitive as I might be. Was I terribly quizzy?”

“You were being charming, as always.”

Annis knew her friend was only being kind. It was true she could be awkward in company and often went off on tangents thatled to confused silences or embarrassed glances.

“So, we are the first people in London to have made the acquaintance of the mysterious Earl of Rotherhithe. Why didn’t you tell me you were meeting him today, Freddie?”

“His note asked that the meeting take place in confidence.”

“And then I came blundering into the middle of it. I’m so sorry, Freddie.”

Freddie smiled. “I am glad you joined us.” Behind the Countess of Sedgwick’s ice-queen façade was a very warm heart. “I think your presence actually made the meeting proceed more smoothly.” She gave Annis a speculative look. “I thought they were both rather taken by you.”

Annis felt her face heat. “Oh, pooh. They were just being polite. Even if his lordship were interested in me, Freddie, it would be difficult to return his interest. I thought him decorative but I don’t think he is very smart.”

Freddie choked on a mouthful of tea. “Oh, Annis,” she said, laughing and daubing her mouth with her napkin.

“I did not mean that cruelly,” Annis assured her. “That combination of dark hair and bright blue eyes is stunning. He is remarkably handsome, is he not?”

“Remarkably.”