“Correct,” he replied.

“Well?”

“I—I seem to have forgotten the reason.” Her scent filled his nostrils, making it hard to concentrate. “Let me think for a moment.”

“You had better hurry,” she said. “The dance is half over.”

“Is it?” Time seemed to hang suspended. The other couples were naught but a whirling blur of jeweltone colors blending with flashes of black and white.

She looked away, to a spot somewhere in the distance over his right shoulder, her mouth pursing in a pensive frown. It gave him a brief moment to study her face and while he could see a quiet strength and stubborn resolution subtly shaping the fine-boned features, there was not a hint of guile or deception.

Around and around they turned, matching each other step for step.

But he would not be the first man ever to be taken in by a lady and her air of assumed innocence.

“Lord Davenport.”

Another slow spin.

“Lord Davenport, the music has ended.”

“So it has.” Devlin reluctantly released her. “We shall talk another time.”

Anna looked at him as if his wits had gone wandering. To somewhere beyond the moon.

“I hope that come morning, sir, you’ll have realized that you are mistaken in thinking me…something which I am not.”

Chapter Thirteen

Anna was already up and sitting on the window seat when her maid came in with a freshly brushed carriage cape for the morning’s outing.

“Did you not sleep well, Mademoiselle Anna?” asked Josette. “Once again, you have dark circles under your eyes.”

“Fitful dreams,” she admitted.

“Shall I fetch you a tisane from the kitchens?”

“No, no, I am fine. Just a little restless, is all.

“Never fear, I know a little trick for disguising the shadows,” said Josette. “A touch of rose lotion, a dab of rice powder and voilà.”

“How very fortunate that you possess so many different skills,” murmured Anna, trying to sound appreciative though the state of her complexion was the least of her concerns.

The armoire door opened and closed. “The oppressive weather and the injury to the prince seem to have dampened everyone’s spirits. I can’t say that English house parties appear to be very enjoyable.”

“We are in Scotland, where everything has a little sharper edge to it,” quipped Anna. Eyeing the streaks of blue peeking through the scudding clouds, she added, “Lady Dunbar will be happy to see that the sun appears to be shining on her outing.”

“Will all the guests be going?” asked Josette, as she selected a slate blue walking dress and fluffed out the skirts.

“Yes,” answered Anna, deciding not to mention her own plans to abscond from the group picnic. A part of her regretted missing the outing. The historic castle and its scenic setting would likely afford some interesting inspiration for Emmalina’s new adventures, but in her current unsettled state of mind, she preferred to escape for the day in her writing.

Especially as it ensured that Count Alessandro and the villainous Prince Malatesta would be the only men she would encounter.

“How nice.” Josette held the gown at arm’s length and cast a critical eye on how the sunlight played over the soft merino wool. “I think I would rather you wear the jade-colored gown. This shade of blue is not quite right for a seaside setting.”

“I trust your judgment,” said Anna, thinking that a burlap sack would serve just as well for curling up in a corner of her room with pen and paper.

“Bon.” A small shake set off a flutter of the smoky green fabric. “Come, you had better begin dressing, so as not to be late for breakfast.”

Tags: Cara Elliott Hellions of High Street Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net