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Typical Anthony. Always leaving her wondering.
Chapter Ten
Body and mindfatigued, Minerva forced herself to take one step after another walking about in a circle in front of the drawing room window, only stopping periodically to scan the busy road. Three hours of sleep was insufficient, but it was all her mind had allowed as the list of concerns surrounding her immediate future mounted with each passing hour. If she continued to pace about, she wouldn’t have to address the litany of questions posed by her younger sisters which had begun as soon as she set foot into the drawing room. She’d never had an issue with providing a satisfactory answer or solution that would ease her sisters’ worries in the past—however, for the first time, Minerva was at a total loss as to respond.
Arms crossed over her chest, Isadora stood next to the fireplace, gaze trained on the flames. “Given that I’m to marry Avondale, and we are to journey to Spain after we are wed…what could be so pressing that the Head of the Foreign Office would go to such great lengths to recruit Minerva?”
“A threat to the Crown for certain.” Diana leaned her head back against the back of the settee and closed her eyes.
Minerva’s heart ached—apparently, she wasn’t the only one not getting enough rest. She pressed her fingers to her temples to ease the tension that was mounting. Minerva had considered a myriad of scenarios in an attempt to determine why, after all these years of passive invitations and polite denials, the Head of the Foreign Office was determined to recruit her into the agency.
“Sister.” Isadora crossed the room to join her in front of the window, blocking the dim rays of sunlight. “If your head is aching, why don’t you go lie down? I promise to send for you should we receive word from Lord Camdon.”
Minerva shook her head.
Diana rose also and joined them by the window. “If you are to play Lord Camdon, you shall need your wits about you. That is, if you wish to win. Or perhaps you found him intriguing enough to consider marriage.”
Minerva’s gaze switched from one sister to the other. How had the roles been reversed? Her sisters were the ones ordering her about her instead of the other way around.
The pounding in her head increased, and she resigned herself to the fact that Diana was right: her brain needed more rest. Especially if she were required to play two games this eve, one with Lord Camdon and the continuation of her match with Anthony. Without a clear head, she would be placing her future in jeopardy.
“While I found Lord Camdon to be rather clever and pleasant company, I don’t believe we would suit. He’s far more of a traditionalist than what he lets on. If I’m to marry, I wish for a gentleman who possesses an open mind and an engaged heart.” She gave her sisters a smile and continued, “A brief respite in my chambers does sound like a wonderful idea.”
Engulfed in a hug from both her sisters, Minerva enjoyed the moment. With Isadora marrying a spy, and Diana and Chestwick’s preference for the countryside, it would be a rare occurrence for the three of them to be together, and in private.
As she expected, Isadora was the first to release her, and then, with one last squeeze, Diana too stepped back and let Minerva go.
“Go rest, sister. Avondale is quite adamant that if you were to play Lord Camdon, it will be no easy feat.” Isadora turned her by the shoulders to face the door.
Minerva left the drawing room and trudged up the stairs. What if Lord Camdon proved to be as astute as Avondale claimed? She was skilled in strategy, but knowing her opponent—their motives, strengths, and weaknesses—was what aided her in developing a winning strategy even before they sat down to play. She knew little of Lord Camdon. From their brief acquaintance, she’d deduced he was a man not easily deterred once his mind was set. He’d also made it clear to her that he wasn’t looking for a love match but a wife with whom he could converse and discuss weightier topics than the weather.
She paused outside her chamber door. Sandalwood. Anthony had left hours ago; there was no reason his scent should linger. He wouldn’t have dared to return so soon, not in broad daylight—or would he?
Minerva pushed open the door. Half of her wanted to see the man who made her pulse accelerate, and the other half wanted to avoid discussing the future with Anthony.
Eyes closed, Anthony lay upon her bed with his hands cradling the back of his head. He didn’t move, nor utter a sound.
She crept closer until she stood next to him.
“You will have to teach me how to move soundlessly.” Anthony opened his eyes and grinned. “Are you to play Camdon?”
Argh. The man was infuriatingly jovial, and up close she could see he was well rested. No dark circles under Anthony’s eyes, unlike the black smudges she had. “I told you last eve I’d alert you as soon as I received word. Do you not trust me to do as I say?”
“I do.” He wiggled to the middle of the bed and patted the space he had just vacated.
She resisted the invisible tug to join him and planted her hands on her hips. The gall of the man, inviting her to lie next to him in her own bed. “Why are you really here?”
“I’m—”
His sheepish look said it all, and she answered her own question. “You’re lonely.” Despite her better judgment, she slipped onto the bed and sat next to him, resting her back against the headboard. “If I were you, I’d be taking advantage of this opportunity to face your demons.”
His whole body tensed. “What do you know of my anxieties?”
She slid down the bed and rolled to face him. “I know everything about you.”
“And you are still willing to marry me?”
“If I lose our game, yes.”
