Page 70 of A Mayfair Maid


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They had written sparingly while they were at school, but neither of them was much for letters. Edmund’s visits to Northwickshire were sparse and mostly spent with Alexander. Anne had hoped to rekindle their friendship over the Christmas holiday just past, and she thought they had done, but there was no hint of anything more, and now, he avoided her.

Anne wondered if he even remembered the promise he had given her. No. It was a silly childhood infatuation. Meaningless. The thought pained her; especially now that Emily was so happily married to Alexander. She berated herself once again to let go of this juvenile fantasy. Edmund had shown no special interest in her, quite the opposite in fact.

She let her eye once again scan the room hoping for a distraction. She noticed a tall gentleman with dark hair and a rather pleasing visage that she did not recognize. She stared at him, trying to place his name against the guest list. He was someone you would remember. With heavy brows, and narrowed dark eyes he would have seemed quite intimidating were it not for his pleasant smile. It was a solid smile, one that drew a person in.

The gentleman had a crowd of female admirers ringed around him and he was smiling at them all. His straight white teeth flashed as he talked, and Anne found herself smiling in return. For an instant he looked her way and Anne froze until she realized he did not truly see her, so much as pause in his conversation.

Wonderful, she thought dryly. She was invisible to him, too.

“Anne! There you are!”

Eliza came up to her, more dancing than walking, her eyes full of laughter. She grabbed her sister by the hands and twirled her around, heedless of the wine which thankfully a passing footman plucked from Anne’s hand at just the right time to keep disaster from befalling a nearby dowager. The lady glowered at them both and Eliza apologized for her exuberance, but Anne said nothing.

“You seem as though you are having quite an engaging time,” Anne commented. “I saw you dancing.”

“Yes. I found several friends from school. They invited me to take a turn around the park with them tomorrow.”

Eliza launched into a tale about a girl named Catherine and her younger sister, Marguerite, both of whom were members of a gardening club that Eliza had joined at finishing school. Both Anne and Eliza had gone to the same school, but they had vastly different interests. Eliza loved puttering with flowers and could name and draw most of the plants in their own country gardens.

Anne did her best, but she could not keep any flower alive for more than a few days. Instead, her school days were spent reading and doing exceedingly dull needlepoint. Once she was home, her cousin coaxed her into joining the local book club, but the spring, summer and autumn were filled with riding; at least as much as she could manage. Eliza wrinkled her nose at the smell of a stable, and was somewhat afraid of horses.

Anne’s eyes started to glaze over as Eliza prattled on about Catherine’s garden, giving Anne a detailed explanation of the plants and their needs. Anne could scarcely follow, or perhaps she just did not care to do so. She would never use the information since she had the very opposite of a green thumb. Plants withered at her very approach.

Anne’s eyes glanced in the direction of the comely black-haired gentleman with the engaging smile. He stopped to speak to one gentleman who gestured towards the Duke of Bramblewood and his new bride. He crossed the room rather purposefully, only to be waylaid by Baron Holmes, a doddering old man with a penchant for long-winded stories. Anne doubted the dark-haired gentleman would escape before midnight.

Eliza noticed her sister’s lack of attention and reached out to clasp her hand. “Pray tell me, Anne, what is it that troubles you so? You have made absolutely no effort to dance.”

“Generally, a lady waits to be asked,” Anne said. “Should I have requested a dance from one of the passing gentlemen?” she asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Eliza giggled at Anne’s joke, but she was shocked at her sister’s lack of partners.

“No one has asked you?” Eliza asked.

Anne shrugged delicately.

Eliza caught both of Anne’s hands and pulled her nearer to the dance floor. “I am sure it is only because no one has seen you to ask whether or not you wished to dance,” she declared. “Why are you hiding in the corner?”

“I don’t know,” Anne admitted. “I suppose I feel suddenly shy here in London.”

“You! Shy! I think not.” Eliza shook her head.

“Forgive me, Eliza. I am feeling very much invisible tonight. There is not a soul here that has so much as noticed me.” At least not the person she wanted to notice her, Anne thought. Drat, shewasbecoming a wallflower.

She missed the boisterous exuberance with which Edmund tackled the day. She thought of the times they had gone riding together as children, or even the moment when he had pulled a prank by hiding some book or other object of hers, just to get her attention as he would say.

Edmund held himself with such absolute confidence in every situation he would be right at home in this ballroom. He did not care one whit what gossips said. He was entirely self-possessed, and Anne felt the same when she was with him.

Edmund would like as not, get Anne into trouble somehow. He had an absolute knack for wriggling his way out of scrapes and putting someone else right in, laughing the entire time. She could not help the smile that crossed her lips at the thought.

Eliza stomped her slippered foot. “Are you listening to a single word I have uttered here tonight?”

Anne glanced at her sister and smiled wanly. “I am sorry, Eliza. My mind is truly elsewhere.”

“I think even if someone were to ask you to dance, you would hardly notice. The only man you have ever paid any attention to at all is Edmund. I think you are moping due to his absence.”

Anne gasped, raising her fingers to her mouth to cover the sound as she looked at her sister. Eliza knew her too well, but she must deny it. She lifted her chin. “Really Eliza, what a dreadful thing to say.”

“Is it not true?” Eliza asked with a quirked eyebrow. “Were you, or were you not just thinking about him?”

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