AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Irritation rose up and threatened to choke him. Yes, Annabelle was a cheerful and personable enough companion for lighthearted social engagement or the occasional tryst, but she was hardly more than one for casual company. Nor did she want anything more from him. She’d made it quite clear in their first liaison that she wanted a partner for base pursuits when the mood took her, and no greater commitment.
It was one of the things he found most attractive about her if he was honest—the fact that she had no desire for any more from him than he was willing to give.
“Well?” His mother’s demand prodded him from his contemplation.
Irritation got the better of him. He was wearied to death of his mother’s constant harping. “Mother. You will not be posting an engagement announcement for myself and Miss Norburn. If you do, I will refute it and move to have any banns declared void.”
“And why should you?” His mother scowled at him, eyes sharp as she folded her hands together and gave him a steely look, rather reminiscent of how she had looked at him when he was a boy and caught at some manner of mischief or another. “It’s not as if you’ve given any other indications of preference for a lady. And your reputation... your father would be mortified if he knew the way you behave. Parading women in and out of the house at all hours as if you were no better than a randy sailor. Better to get yourself attached to an agreeable lady before none will have you.”
“My attachments, or lack thereof, are my own to manage. And in any case, Annabelle Norburn—excellent company though she may be—is not a woman with whom I desire a permanent engagement.”
“And whyever not, if she will have you?” His mother’s eyes were flashing with her own temper and not a little inquisitiveness, and the sight of her firmly set mouth, and challenging gaze prompted him to speak without thinking.
“Because she is not the woman I would choose, neither in temperament nor in much else, however well she might suit for a short-lived liaison or an uncommitted escort for an evening.”
It was only when his mother’s eyes flashed with interest that he realized he might have revealed more than he intended in his frustration.
“Indeed. And what might an ideal Lady Bedford look like? I’ve yet to see any indications that you had any intentions of making a decent proposal to any of the young women you’ve had in and out of the estate in the past two years.” His mother unbent enough to fold her arms.
“Mother…” He was ready to make an excuse and take his leave when movement caught his eye.
There was a maid entering the ballroom, skirting along quietly and as invisibly along the edges of the floor as possible with a pitcher in her hands.
A very familiar maid with a petite frame and dark hair.
Arthur felt a genuine smile rise to his lips. Finally, he’d found Nora.
And at that, an idea bubbled to life in his mind. An idea that meant he could further his plans to seduce the maid, silence his mother, and perhaps return to her some small measure of the irritation her constant nagging had given him.
He gave his mother a warm smile, heartened by how her eyes narrowed and took on a wary expression. “Do you truly wish to meet the lady I might deem the future Duchess Bedford?”
Without waiting for her reply, he turned and made his way toward the refreshment table that had been his original destination.
If it was a scandal his mother was concerned with, then a scandal he could provide, and gladly.
* * *
Nora hadn’t been pleased to be requested for the evening, but she hadn’t been able to refuse either. After all, she was the Dowager’s personal maid, and this was the Dowager’s birthday ball. So, she’d arranged for Scarlett to have a friend watch over Lydia for the evening while she served—primarily refilling the punch bowl and clearing away used plates.
She was finishing a refill of the punch bowl when she felt someone behind her. She turned to offer her apologies and perhaps a cup of punch to whoever it was, only to freeze.
Behind her stood the Duke of Bedford, a lazy smile on his handsome face.
She flushed and lowered her eyes. “Apologies, Your Grace. If you’ll excuse me…”
She got no further than that before the man looped his arms around her shoulder and laughed, spinning her around in an exaggerated circle and leaving her breathless with shock and the beginnings of indignation. “Ah, my darling, my love, my maid, do not apologize, for I have waited long, and now I do declare that it is God’s own gift to me to touch you and express my feelings in the open like this.”
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace?” She worked herself free of his grasp, hot rage mingled with humiliation as her face went hot, enough to catch fire from the feel. She was of no mind to offer either courtesy or even the proper deference of a maid to her employer. She straightened her back and glared at him, even more infuriated with the foolish, smug smirk gracing his features.
“No need for that, my darling.” He made to sweep her up into his embrace, and she stepped aside with a quick, light movement, trying to reign in her temper and her frustration.
“Your Grace, do contain yourself.” She sniffed delicately. “You are behaving like a man who has had a dram too many.” If he had, she could only think worse of him to become so inebriated as to make such inappropriate overtures at his mother’s birthday celebration. Even so, she kept her voice low to avoid embarrassing him any further than his own behavior could do.
She turned and made to leave, but he barred her path and pulled her close again. “Ah, my darling, but there is no need for such shyness, not any longer. For why should I not announce my feelings when you know, well enough, I love you as the sun loves the moon.”
She tugged, but he was prepared this time and kept a firm, though gentle hand on her shoulders. Angry and increasingly upset, she snarled the first response that came to mind. “The sun and the moon never meet, as you ought to be well aware, and so such comparison is worth nothing but empty words and foolish fancy.”
There were whispers rising around them, and she felt her neck burn with renewed distress and increasing rage. The music had stopped, and all around them, ladies and gentlemen were turning to watch, fans flickering and doing nothing to conceal the muttering and speculation that had begun to circulate around the room.
