Secrets of a Runaway Bride Read online

  She peeped out the window to see Lord Ashbourne swing up onto his mount. She narrowed her eyes and tapped a finger against her cheek. Perhaps it was no coincidence that Lord Ashbourne happened to be wherever she was of late. She might just have to take a bit more care to not be such a ninny in his company. The man was … imposing. She touched her fingertips to her waist where his strong hands had lingered minutes earlier. A shudder coursed through her.

  Lord Ashbourne was a famous rakehell, a dashing rogue, a confirmed bachelor, and her brother-in-law’s oldest and closest friend. He ran with a fast set and did as he pleased. He was handsome, charming, and completely the opposite of what Annie was looking for in a mate.

  But, oh my, being pressed against him when he’d pulled her from the vine had been … delicious.

  CHAPTER 3

  “Arthur! Stop the coach!”

  Arthur’s handsome blond head swiveled around. Obligingly, he pulled on the reins, braced his booted feet against the wooden slabs, and yelled, “Whoa!”

  The phaeton jerked to a skidding halt, bumping along the gravel path in Hyde Park and coming to a rest with a solid thud.

  “Why did we stop?” he asked, breathing a bit heavily.

  One hand fixed atop her bonnet, Annie gestured frantically with the other toward the bushes they’d just passed on their afternoon ride through the park. “I saw a fox.”

  “A fox?” Arthur’s eyes were wide. He shook his head. “I hardly think a fox is something we ought to—”

  “Shh.” Annie pressed a finger to her lips. “We mustn’t scare the poor creature.”

  Sitting up straight, she pulled her kid gloves tight. Thankfully, Arthur hadn’t mentioned her episode with Lord Ashbourne last night. He seemed quite content to pretend it had never happened, and for that she was immensely thankful. She’d spent the better part of the hour they’d been out riding attempting to get Arthur to kiss her. Having failed miserably, she had let her attention wander and she’d caught a glimpse of bright red fur peeking from the bushes as they’d dashed past.

  Craning her neck, Annie kept her eyes trained on the little fox she’d seen crouched in the hedges several paces away. A cluster of berries marked the small animal’s spot.

  Annie began to climb down the side of the coach.

  Arthur placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Here, now. Do you really think you ought to—”

  Annie slipped out from under his hand and hopped to the ground. “He may be hurt, Arthur. I must see to him.”

  Looking chagrined, Arthur snapped his mouth shut and watched as Annie tiptoed through the grass toward the hedgerow. He clucked to the horses, who, no doubt alert to the scent of the fox, twitched their ears and flared their nostrils.

  When she was close enough, Annie bent down, flicked up her skirts, and crawled on her hands and knees on the grass toward the fox. Its little whiskered head peeped out from behind the berries and tilted inquisitively to the side.

  Annie eyed the fox carefully. She’d rescued enough strays in her time to know when one was particularly sick or rabid, and this animal looked perfectly healthy. And he was just a baby too. Her brow wrinkled. A baby who didn’t seem to be frightened by a human. Odd.

  Just then, a glint of sunlight glanced off a bit of metal and the fox limped forward, dragging a small trap that was secured to his tiny paw. Annie sucked in her breath and turned her head back toward the coach. “Oh, Arthur, just as I suspected. He is hurt.”

  Facing the tiny animal again, she slowly tugged off her glove, cupped her palm, and presented it to the fox to show him she meant no harm. “You poor little thing. Let me help you, darling.”

  She eyed the trap carefully. It was somewhat rusty. Perhaps merely prying the prongs apart would do the trick. She bent low, her hands braced on the soft earth to get a good look at the contraption.

  On the other hand, forcing the jaws open might only serve to hurt the little fox’s paw even more. She snapped her fingers. “A hairpin. Of course.” She plucked a pin from the back of her coiffure, little caring that one unruly dark curl bounced free, and carefully inserted the pin into the hinge on the side of the trap. Her brow furrowed, she poked out her tongue, intent on her work.

  She pushed the pin into the hinge as far as it would go, then slowly twisted it back and forth.

  Sweat beaded on her forehead. The fox stared at her dolefully, his little sherry-colored eyes blinking. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll get it. I’ll get—”

  The hinge popped open with a click. The fox leaped backward, then froze, staring at her. His ears perked and his whiskers twitched. He licked his paw.

  Annie edged closer. The fox eyed her.

  She edged forward again. The fox’s eyes darted back and forth.

  She reached out a hand. Slowly. Slowly.

  The fox sniffed at her.

  Finally, Annie scooted close enough to scoop the tiny fox into her arms, careful not to touch his sore paw. At first he tried to dart away, but she petted him softly and cooed to him. Finally, he settled into her arms, allowing her to hold him.

  She stood up and turned back toward the coach. “I have him,” she called cheerfully to Arthur. “But the poor thing’s paw was caught in a trap. Who would do such a thing? And in a public park, where children might stumble upon it and get hurt too.”

  “Who indeed?” Arthur shook his head, an inscrutable look on his face.

  She made her way back to the coach with the fox cradled in her arms.

  Arthur had descended from the coach and stood ready to help her back up. “You don’t intend to keep that thing, do you?”

  Annie blinked at him. “I intend to take him home and treat his paw. I have a recipe for a poultice for just such occasions. That and a bandage will help it to heal much more quickly.”

  Arthur frowned. “Do you really think that wise?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Arthur plunked a hand on his hip. “Taking a wild animal into your home is hardly something propriety dictates.”

  Annie glanced down at the fox. “But he”—she turned the animal over carefully and glanced down—“yes, he needs help.”

  Arthur gave her a doubtful look. He assisted her back into her seat, the fox cradled in her arms. “I don’t know that I recommend it. Not to mention a fox like that should be on the run from a pack of hounds, not having his paw wrapped in a London town house.”

  Annie’s mouth fell open. “Hunted? You cannot be serious, Arthur. Please tell me you don’t condone that awful sport.”

  Arthur settled back into the seat next to her and shifted his eyes away uncomfortably. “Very well. Take him home if you will.”

  Annie straightened her shoulders and nodded. “Thank you. That’s exactly what I intend to do.” She cuddled the baby fox, trying to get a better look at his sore paw.

  Arthur laughed. “Now that you’ve got the fox to worry about, at least you won’t be so intent upon asking me for a chance to take the reins.”

  He clucked to the horses again and headed for the park’s entrance, while Annie contemplated the afternoon’s turn of events. It was true. After the kissing bit had failed, Annie had turned her attentions to convincing Arthur to allow her to drive his father’s phaeton. He’d said no. Again. Annie sighed. Arthur was under the mistaken impression that she didn’t know how to drive. The fact was, the groomsmen at her family’s country house had spent hours teaching her when she was a girl. Her parents had always been much more concerned with Lily and her schooling, her beauty, her future prospects. They’d left their younger daughter to become a complete tomboy. And that’s exactly what she’d done. Every boy she’d ever met treated her like an unruly friend. That’s why she loved Arthur so. He’d been the first man who’d ever paid a compliment to her beauty. The first man to ever treat her like a girl. But that meant Arthur didn’t realize what she was capable of, either. If she were only given a chance to drive, their afternoon outings wouldn’t be a complete waste. Though today, at least, she�
��d saved a fox.

  “Since you brought it up, Arthur, won’t you allow me to drive when we go riding tomorrow? I’m really quite—”

  He puffed up his chest. “We’ve discussed this, Anne. A team like this is hardly something just anyone can handle.”

  Annie smiled wanly and glanced away. Arthur was perfectly right; it wasn’t something just anyone could handle. Arthur wasn’t doing a particularly good job of it at the moment. She winced. In fact, the placement of his hands on the reins was all wrong. But it would hardly be polite of her to point it out. The second son of a baron, Arthur was tall, blond, and had the blue eyes of an angel. It wasn’t his fault that driving wasn’t quite his forte.

  “Besides,” Arthur added, “I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

  Annie smiled at that. There was no point in arguing with him and he’d just said the sweetest thing. “I’m sure you’re right, Arthur. This has been such a lovely afternoon.” Annie glanced up and the smile drained from her face. “Oh, confound it. Not him again.”

  Arthur’s head snapped up. “Not who again?”

  Annie wrinkled her nose and shook her head, her curls bouncing along her cheeks. “Lord Ashbourne.” She nodded to the lone horseman who approached. “He’s coming this way.”

  Drat. She wanted to disappear. After last night’s incident, she’d been hoping she wouldn’t see Lord Ashbourne again for … ever. But just as he had been the last three afternoons, Lord Ashbourne was in the park, crossing her path.

  “Tomorrow we must take a different route,” she mumbled.

  Arthur gave her a skeptical glance. “What’s your quarrel with the Earl of Ashbourne? I hate to be indelicate but you didn’t seem that interested in eluding him last night.”

  Annie pressed her lips together. She supposed she deserved that last bit. “Last night I came over to your house to see you and he just … appeared. And now here he is. I’m beginning to think he’s following me.”

  “Following you?” Arthur chuckled. “Anne, with all due respect, half of London drives through the park in the afternoon. Lord Ashbourne is no different.”

  “You don’t think it more than mere coincidence that he just happened to encounter us each day this week?”

  Arthur shook his head. “I daresay we’ve seen Miss Abshire and the Coxes each day too.”

  Annie sighed. Arthur could be so naïve. Miss Abshire and the Coxes weren’t following her; Lord Ashbourne was.

  “Do you dislike him?” Arthur asked.

  Annie contemplated the question for a moment. Ashbourne was a bit arrogant, a little judgmental, and he’d been keeping far too close an eye on her since Lily and Devon had been away. Not to mention she usually found herself completely embarrassed in the earl’s illustrious presence. But she wasn’t about to expound on that part to Arthur. Perhaps she might like Lord Ashbourne a bit more too if he were to stop referring to her as “the runaway bride,” she thought with a smirk. “I wouldn’t say I dislike him … exactly,” she hedged.

  She glanced down at her lap. Oh bother. How would she ever explain her fox to the earl? Just perfect. Something else for Lord Debonair to mock.

  “There must be something redeeming about him if Lord Colton chooses to be his friend,” Arthur was saying.

  “If you say so. Look lively.” Annie pasted a smile on her face as Ashbourne’s black gelding clipped to a stop beside them. Lord Ashbourne tipped his hat. “Miss Andrews. Mr. Eggleston. Good afternoon.” He eyed Annie closely. “I trust you survived your climbing adventure last night?”

  Oh, of course the man would have to mention her humiliation. No doubt a “runaway bride” comment was not far behind. She braced herself. “It was a good afternoon,” she replied brightly, settling the fox on her lap. Ooh, perhaps she should inform Lord Ashbourne that the fox might be rabid. That might make him leave.

  Ashbourne’s smile widened. He flashed his perfect white teeth. “What have you there?” He nodded toward her fox.

  As usual, Annie lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “We just found this poor boy in the bushes. His paw was caught in a trap.”

  Lord Ashbourne’s face turned into a scowl. “What idiot set a trap? He’ll need a poultice and a bandage. May I help you procure those items?”

  Annie eyed him cautiously. How did Lord Ashbourne know so much about it? And very well, he’d surprised her with his concern. It was nice of him to offer, but it didn’t change the fact that the man seemed determined to thwart her ambitions of late. In addition to his appearance last night, he’d interrupted her potential trysts with Arthur Eggleston all week long. The least he could do was be understanding about her fox.

  “No, thank you, Lord Ashbourne. I have everything I need at home … which is where Arthur and I were just going.” She nodded to Arthur, hoping he’d read her thoughts and set the coach into motion again.

  He did not.

  Sigh.

  Lord Ashbourne inclined his head. “I’m disappointed to see, Miss Andrews, that you are not driving the coach today. Did I mistake my guess or have you not been intent upon asking Mr. Eggleston if you could take the reins?”

  Was he was eavesdropping now too? “Indeed that’s true, Lord Ashbourne. But Arthur wasn’t up to it today.”

  Lord Ashbourne flashed her a smile that her friend Frances—who was completely smitten with the earl—would say made her weak in the knees. Very well, the rogue was very handsome. She would give him that. As handsome as he was troublesome.

  “A shame, really,” Lord Ashbourne said. “I should very much like to witness your skill at driving.”

  Annie nodded. “It’s impressive to be sure, my lord.” Oh, what naughtiness had made her say such a thing? She usually wasn’t such a braggart but there was something about Lord Ashbourne that brought out her competitive side.

  Lord Ashbourne’s eyebrows rose. Was that an impressed look upon his face? “I shall take your word for it,” he said. “I do hope my arrival hasn’t ruined your day, Miss Andrews.”

  Annie pinned her most inauthentic smile to her face. “Not at all, Lord Ashbourne. Indeed, I look forward to your visit every day. I was just telling Arthur, it’s a wonder we hadn’t run into you before now.”

  Their eyes met. Neither smile faltered.

  Eggleston cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “Yes. Well. What are you up to today, Ashbourne?”

  Lord Ashbourne inclined his head toward Annie. “Actually, I’ve come to ask you if you’ll be so kind as to accompany me to the Lindworths’ ball tonight, Miss Andrews.”

  Annie snapped her mouth shut. Despite the fact that the London Season had been over for months, the Lindworths were hosting an autumn ball. Annie had spent the better part of three days trying to get Arthur to invite her to the grand affair. Tried and failed.

  “That is, unless you already have an invitation,” Lord Ashbourne continued, blinking at her innocently. A man shouldn’t be allowed to have such long, lovely eyelashes.

  “Well, I…” Of course this moment would be the ideal opportunity for Arthur to invite her to the ball. She turned her head and looked at Arthur expectantly. Waiting. She briefly considered elbowing him but thought better of it. She stroked the fox.

  Arthur turned to her, a bright smile on his face. “Why, yes, yes of course.” Annie’s heart stopped beating. Oh, finally she would have her invitation in only a matter of seconds.

  Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

  “Yes,” Arthur repeated. “You should attend the ball with Lord Ashbourne. I am escorting my sister there and would so enjoy seeing you both.”

  Annie’s heart sank. “Oh, I—” She scrunched up her nose and dared a glance at Lord Ashbourne. He was wearing his most mocking expression. It was one she knew well. Blast it.

  Annie cuddled the fox and contemplated the matter. She had two choices. She could either turn Lord Ashbourne down, a slight he richly deserved, and stay home tonight curled upon the settee with her fox, wondering which young ladies were dancing
with Arthur, or she could accept Ashbourne’s blasted invitation and gain entry into one of the most talked-about events of the year.

  Annie straightened her shoulders again. The Annie Andrews of six months ago would have asked Arthur to take her with him, would have begged him possibly, but this Annie—no, Anne—the older, more mature Miss Andrews, was forcing herself to behave with a bit more dignity, the incident of clinging to the vine on the side of his house last night notwithstanding.

  Her jaw hurt from keeping her smile tight. She gave a curt nod. She couldn’t, just couldn’t, allow Arthur to be at the Lindworths’ ball without her. “Yes, thank you very much, Lord Ashbourne. I should love to attend the ball with you this evening.”

  CHAPTER 4

  The poultice and the bandage worked wonders for the baby fox’s paw. Though seeing to her little patient hadn’t left Annie much time to prepare herself for the Lindworths’ ball. No matter. It wasn’t as if she were a great beauty. Annie wasn’t like her sister. Men didn’t stop and stare when she walked past. She didn’t have a bevy of suitors lined up at the door waiting to court her or a constant supply of fresh flowers, sweets, and original poems.

  Annie would simply toss on one of her new gowns and make do. Perhaps Arthur wouldn’t notice that her hair was a mess of loosely bound curls and she smelled a bit like fox-paw poultice.

  She laughed to herself at the thought and shook her head. Then she pulled a blanket over the sleeping fox. His bandaged paw stuck out like a bright white beacon from the pile of blankets she’d wrapped him in. She’d tucked him in a small basket and the tired little thing had fallen asleep almost immediately.

  “There you are, you dear,” she cooed. “You’ll be back dashing through the woods in no time.” She wagged her finger. “In fact, I think that’s the perfect name for you.… Dash.”

  Mary, her maid, her old friend, came scurrying into the room, pushing the door shut behind her to a chorus of barks. “I swear Leo and Bandit have been circling outside this room all evening,” she said, referring to Lily’s two dogs, strays her sister had adopted through quite different circumstances. “Once they realize you’ve got a fox in here, I don’t know what they’ll do.”