Secrets of a Runaway Bride Read online

  Miss Andrews was a deuced beauty, if one were interested in innocents, which Jordan assuredly was not. Good God. The close confines of the coach were playing with his head. She was Devon’s sister-in-law. Completely unsuitable for him. Devon would lay him out flat if he knew Jordan had had as much as one inappropriate thought about Annie, let alone the several that had come to mind in the last twenty-four hours. Jordan shook his head to clear it of such unsettling ideas. Very well. The chit was a beauty. Why she insisted upon throwing herself at that fool Eggleston was anyone’s guess.

  Jordan relaxed against the seat and glanced out the window. Aside from last night, he already knew, firsthand, how much trouble the girl could get herself into.

  Now, months after her ill-fated attempt to marry in Gretna Green, it seemed she was still convinced Eggleston was the right man for her. Absurd, of course, but that was none of Jordan’s affair. Young ladies making their debuts and their choice of husbands was not something he concerned himself with. He was tasked only with ensuring Miss Andrews stayed out of trouble on his watch, and that, he assumed, meant that she stayed innocent, unmarried, and came through with her reputation intact. Easy enough, he supposed. There were three weeks left before Devon and Lily returned and then he’d be finished with this unwelcome chaperonage.

  However, Jordan had a gut feeling the girl was not about to make the next few weeks easy on him. He’d spent the last week chasing her about the park while she attempted to convince Eggleston to invite her to the ball tonight. It had all been easy enough, but now, despite the fact that the Season had been over for an age, there were a few actual events coming up. And events, like the Lindworths’ affair tonight, meant trouble.

  Annie, it seemed, was every bit as stubborn and impudent as her sister. More so, if the dire warning Lily had issued to him before she’d left was to be believed. Yes, as much as he didn’t relish the idea of playing chaperone to an unruly young woman, he was sure he had quite the time in store for him keeping an eye on Miss Andrews. The end of the next three weeks couldn’t come soon enough for him.

  “Do explain your earlier comments,” Jordan said to her. “How exactly is it that you believe I’m causing you trouble?”

  Annie’s mouth fell open. She glanced at Aunt Clarissa, who was already nodding off in the corner. Drinking made the woman sleepy. “You cannot possibly be serious.”

  He gave her an unaffected stare. “Humor me.”

  She tossed one delicate little hand in the air and began counting off his transgressions on her fingertips. “You’ve dogged my every step. Whenever I go riding in the park with Arthur, you’re there. Whenever I go out to pay my afternoon calls, I eventually see you. When I go shopping on Bond Street, whom should I encounter? It’s like having an unwanted overseer everywhere I go.”

  Jordan reclined against his seat and crossed his legs at the ankles, regarding her. “You haven’t considered the fact that it may very well just be pure coincidence that I am at these places you list?”

  “Hmm. What sort of business did you have at Miss Moneyham’s milliners? Did you need a new ribbon for your best bonnet?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

  Arching a brow, Jordan leaned to the left and settled his weight on his elbow. “How do you know I’m not following Eggleston?”

  Annie snapped her mouth shut. He could tell by the slight wrinkling of her brow that she had not considered such a possibility.

  He’d stumped her.

  Good.

  “You’re not following Arthur, are you?” she asked, leaning forward a bit, a disbelieving look on her face.

  Jordan whistled. “Arthur? Really? Let’s talk about that. I noticed you’ve been using his Christian name. Hardly seems appropriate, now, does it?” He nodded toward Aunt Clarissa.

  Annie glanced at the older woman. Her little snores were shaking the gray curls on the top of her head. “Hardly seems any of your affair,” she said sweetly to Lord Ashbourne. “And you’ve yet to answer my question.”

  Lord Ashbourne shrugged. “What if I told you your sister asked me to keep an eye on you?”

  Annie blinked at him. “Why would she do that? I’ve got Aunt Clarissa.”

  Jordan gave her a look dripping with sarcasm as he nodded again to the chaperone’s sleeping form. “Must I really provide you with an explanation?”

  Annie shrugged. “Oh, you know how dramatic Lily can be. Why, she caused a complete scandal last year with her pamphlet. I love her dearly, of course, but she relishes histrionics.” Annie leaned forward even farther and gave him a conspiratorial whisper. “Just between the two of us, you cannot take everything Lily says entirely literally.”

  Jordan struggled to keep the smile from his face. “Is that so?”

  Annie nodded. “Yes, yes, of course.” She looked quite pleased with herself, obviously sure she had convinced him.

  “It sounds as if there has been a misunderstanding,” he continued.

  Annie nodded even more emphatically. “Yes, yes. A misunderstanding.” She sat up straight, a happy smile on her pretty face.

  Jordan cocked his head to the side. “Seems there’s been quite a misunderstanding,” he said. “Because I distinctly remember you being the selfsame young woman whom I assisted Devon and Lily in chasing up to Gretna Green when you took off with Eggleston last spring, the runaway bride. And your sister was quite clear with me that she very much did not want history to repeat itself.”

  The smile dropped from Annie’s face, and she audibly gulped.

  “Am I mistaken?” Jordan prodded, blinking innocently. “Do I misunderstand the matter?”

  Annie busied herself with plucking at the strings of her reticule. “Arthur and I—”

  “Please, for your sister’s sake, call the man Mr. Eggleston, at least in my presence.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Mr. Eggleston and I did not go to Gretna Green.”

  He gave her a long-suffering stare. “You mean you did not make it to Gretna Green.”

  “Oh, what does any of that matter now? That was months ago. I’m much older and wiser now. Besides, Arthur…” She cleared her throat. “Mr. Eggleston and I did not marry in Scotland and that’s the only concern, isn’t it? We shall be married, however, properly.”

  Jordan steepled his fingers together and regarded her. He was actually enjoying the repartee more than he’d expected. Playing de facto chaperone to Miss Andrews was hardly at the top of his list of pleasant activities, but her company was proving somewhat amusing tonight after all.

  “It was only a few months ago, wasn’t it?” he asked. “I’ll leave alone your claim to be older and wiser, but the fact is you attempted to run off to Scotland with Eggleston, and if Lily and Devon hadn’t tracked you down and dragged you back to London, you might well be married to the bloke now and living a life of shame, mightn’t you?”

  The only sound from across the seats was a vague harrumph. And then, “No one ever found out. We all managed quite well to keep that a secret and my reputation didn’t suffer. I’d rather you didn’t mention it. It’s entirely unchivalrous of you. Not to mention that your calling me the runaway bride drives me mad.”

  Lord Ashbourne shook his head. “No one ever found out only because Devon and your sister told everyone it was they who married.”

  Annie pointed an accusing finger at him. “A situation you admit to helping to bring about.”

  “Yes.” He grinned. “I did my part in pushing them together, but it doesn’t change the fact that you did something infinitely foolish.”

  She glanced away and Jordan momentarily regretted bringing about the light blush that stained her cheeks. He’d embarrassed her.

  But when she turned back to face him, her eyes crackled with dark fire. “Oh, I suppose you would never have done anything like that, would you?” she snapped. “That’s my problem with the lot of you telling me what to do. Lily and Devon had attempted to run off to Gretna Green together when they were young, and you’re famous for your blacken
ed reputation, but I’m taken to task for my every misstep.”

  Jordan arched a brow. Well. Well. Well. In addition to being a bit of trouble, it seemed the chit wasn’t one to accept accusations without fighting back. Blast it all if he didn’t like that about her. “It’s true, Miss Andrews. I was doing things that would shock you before you were out of pinafores. But perhaps that merely proves I know whereof I speak.”

  Annie turned her head away and crossed her arms over her chest.

  Jordan continued. “Your sister, at least, seems to believe you might be disposed to try your hand at matrimony again. My own encounters with you prove your penchant for spending time in Eggleston’s company. So, frankly, I’d have to say I agree with your sister. You are a risk.”

  “A risk?” Annie’s head swiveled back around and she blinked. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll be honest. I asked you to come with me tonight because I happen to be tired of following you around in false secret. I don’t relish this task any more than you relish my presence.”

  She opened her mouth as if to retort but Jordan put up his hand to silence her. She snapped her lips closed again.

  “You agreed to suffer my company for one reason and one reason only, and that reason is because your beloved Eggleston didn’t invite you himself and you cannot stand to be without his company for one evening,” Jordan continued while Annie positively glowered at him.

  “And the fact is I have been following you for the past sennight. I’m following you and Eggleston because I’ve been assigned by your new brother-in-law and your sister to watch over you while they are away. I’m paying attention not because I give a toss whom you marry, but because I blasted well care how you go about it. Devon and Lily made it my affair to care and I intend to fulfill my promise to my friends. So let’s get one thing clear between us, my dear Miss Andrews. When we get to the ball, I intend to make it known to every breathing male on the premises that no one—but no one—is going to dance with you without my explicit approval. And that approval does not extend to Arthur Eggleston.”

  CHAPTER 5

  After rousing Aunt Clarissa from her sleep, Annie and Lord Ashbourne helped the older woman up the steps to the Lindworths’ second-story ballroom. The grand affair was ablaze with the light of a thousand candles. After leaning a bit too long on Lord Ashbourne’s arm and giving him a score of inappropriate winks, Aunt Clarissa took herself off to find the nearest glass of wine and the company of the other older ladies while Annie quickly excused herself from the detestable Lord Ashbourne.

  Annie scoured the ballroom in search of her closest friend, Frances. As much as she tried to banish it, the conversation in the coach with Lord Ashbourne replayed in her head, making her angry all over again. She counted to ten. How dare that man lecture her? And then have the nerve to issue a decree? He would not allow her to dance with Arthur? Who did Jordan Holloway think he was? Why, he was as overbearing and controlling as Lily could be. And Annie was even less likely to listen to him.

  Frances was standing in a corner, humming along with the music, a pleasant yet slightly bored look on her face. She held a glass of questionable punch in one hand and was tapping her slippered foot in time to the tune.

  She jumped when she glanced up to see Annie barreling toward her.

  “Anne, there you are. I’ve been waiting an age.”

  Annie glanced over her shoulder to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard. “Tell me,” she asked breathlessly. “Have you seen Arthur tonight?”

  Frances discarded her glass on a nearby table. “Yes, yes, of course. He’s here with his sister. Now you tell me something. Did you arrive with Lord Ashbourne?”

  Annie rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Yes.”

  Frances looked as if she might swoon. “And what, pray tell, were you doing with him?”

  “You’ll never believe. It appears Lily and Devon have asked Lord Ashbourne to watch me while they’re gone.”

  Frances’s mouth dropped open. “You must be joking.”

  Annie leaned against the wall, her hands behind her back. “No, I’m afraid I’m not. He’s been following me around for days. Now it all makes perfect sense.”

  Frances clutched her throat. “Oh, Anne. You have all the fun!”

  Annie blinked at her friend. “Fun? What in heaven’s name are you talking about? The man has been insufferable. He won’t give me a moment’s peace.” She wasn’t about to tell Frances about her unfortunate encounter with Lord Ashbourne last night.

  Frances had extricated her fan from her reticule and was busily flapping it in front of her face. “I should hope not. If I had Jordan Holloway following me around, I wouldn’t want a moment’s peace. The man is positively gorgeous.”

  Annie shook her head. Frances had had an ill-concealed infatuation with Lord Ashbourne for months. It was quite provoking, actually. Especially now that Lord Ashbourne was the equivalent of Annie’s gaoler.

  Annie glanced across the ballroom to where Lord Ashbourne stood. He was a few inches taller than the other men in his company. And he cut a striking figure in his black evening attire and perfectly starched white cravat. “All I see is a towering know-it-all who refuses to leave me alone.”

  The fan still hovered in front of Frances’s face. “Now I know you’re joking. Why, the man is one of the most sought-after bachelors in the realm. It’s just not possible that you don’t find him handsome.”

  Annie scrunched up her nose. “Oh, he’s handsome, I’ll allow. But he’s only sought after because he’s rich and titled.” She plucked her arms out from behind her and crossed them over her chest.

  “Hmm. Let’s just see. He’s tall.” Frances snapped her fan closed and tapped it against her palm.

  Annie glanced over at Lord Ashbourne again. “Yes. He is that.”

  “And he’s dark.” Another tap of the fan to her palm.

  Annie dared another surreptitious glance. “Admittedly.”

  “And Lord above, those eyes!” Frances snapped the fan open again and rapidly waved it in front of her face.

  Annie shrugged. “I haven’t even noticed his eyes.”

  “You are positively daft,” Frances declared. “Everyone knows the Earl of Ashbourne has London’s most beautiful gray eyes.”

  Annie squinted. “Whatever his eye color, he’s nothing but the Earl of Meddlesomeness as far as I’m concerned. Besides, he’s a little too good-looking if you ask me. Like he’s not real. And men who look like that only have the incomparable beauties on their arms. Not young ladies like us who are pretty at best.”

  She refused to think about the little shiver that went through her earlier in the coach when he had called her “my dear Miss Andrews.” And very well, she had noticed those eyes. Even in the dark of the coach, they shone like silver.

  Frances shook her head. “No, Anne. I’m pretty at best. You’re absolutely gorgeous, only you don’t know it because your sister just happens to be one of the most beautiful women in the country. Compared to me, however, you are a goddess.”

  Annie squeezed her friend’s hand. Frances was such a dear. The two of them had had this conversation scores of times and it always ended the same way. Annie knew—knew—it wasn’t true, but it was exceedingly kind of her friend to try to tell her how beautiful she was.

  “I’m no goddess,” she whispered. She was catapulted back in time to being fourteen years old again at her parents’ country estate. “You’ll just have to be witty, Annie,” her father had said, “because you won’t catch a husband with your looks.” It was one of many careless statements her father had made through the years and Lily, like Frances, had spent hours trying to tell her how untrue it was, but Annie knew they had merely been trying to make her feel better. She wasn’t pretty. That was a fact. All the more reason that Arthur was the right man for her. Arthur saw something in her other men didn’t, couldn’t.

  Frances snapped open her fan again, shaking Annie from her reverie. “Before you arg
ue with me,” Frances continued, “I would simply like to point out that Lord Ashbourne came here with you tonight, didn’t he? And if you’re normal-looking, then perhaps there’s hope for me.” Laughing, Frances dropped her fan back inside her reticule. “Besides, careful what you say about Lord Ashbourne, Miss Andrews. Your sister wouldn’t approve.”

  Annie smoothed her pink skirts. “That’s just it. I thought I was going to a have a reprieve from Lily’s meddling while she was gone on her honeymoon. Instead, she’s left her stand-in in the form of the meddlesome Lord Ashbourne.”

  “The charming and dashing Lord Ashbourne,” Frances corrected, clearing her throat.

  Annie tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “If you had heard how rude he was to me in the coach, you wouldn’t think he was nearly so charming or dashing. Besides, Arthur is a man who looks real. Lord Ashbourne looks like he’s been chiseled from stone.”

  Frances bit her lip and averted her eyes. “Ah yes, dear, of course Mr. Eggleston is a fine-looking man.”

  Annie nodded approvingly.

  “But he’s no Lord Ashbourne,” Frances finished, causing Annie to narrow her eyes at her friend.

  “I don’t expect you to understand, Frances. But my affections for Arthur go much deeper than mere looks.”

  “As do my affections for Lord Ashbourne,” Frances insisted. “He’s witty, rich, intelligent, immensely popular, a gifted horseman, bowman, and shot. There are many things to like about him. The fact that he looks like Adonis has very little to do with it, really.”

  Annie rolled her eyes. “So what? Arthur went to Oxford.”

  “Ashbourne went to Cambridge.”

  “Arthur stands to inherit a decent income when he turns twenty-five.”