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‘Good evening, Lord Bessmel, Lady Bessmel,’ she greeted the older couple. ‘And, Lydia, I’m so pleased to see you. How is your mother this evening?’
‘Much better, thank heavens,’ the girl said, clearly relieved. ‘This last megrim has been very difficult for her, but the doctor gave her something that seems to be helping. But what an exquisite gown, Anna. Surely one of Madame Delors’s?’
‘I thought the occasion demanded something suitably festive.’ Anna took a deep breath and glanced around the room. She had no idea if Sir Barrington had been invited, but she found herself looking for him regardless. ‘Have you seen our hostess yet?’
‘No, but I expect she will be down shortly.’
‘Not the thing for a lady to be late for her own dinner party,’ Lord Bessmel remarked.
‘Patience, Harry,’ Lady Bessmel said, patting her husband’s arm. ‘I’m sure the baroness is simply waiting for the right moment to make her appearance. Most Europeans have a flair for the dramatic. But what lovely pearls, Annabelle. Your mother’s, if I’m not mistaken.’
‘Yes,’ Anna said, surprised that the countess would recognise them. ‘How did you know?’
‘I remember her wearing them. White or pink pearls are relatively common, but that shade of gold is quite rare.’
‘They were a gift to her from Papa,’ Anna said fondly. ‘He always said Mama had the perfect complexion for them.’
‘She did. Fortunately, so do you and they go perfectly with your gown, which I must tell you is absolutely exquisite. But look, I do believe the baroness comes.’
As expected, all eyes turned towards the door where the baroness, resplendent in sapphire satin, stood for a moment framed in the doorway. Her lovely face was wreathed in smiles, but Anna was quite sure it wasn’t her smile or her gown that caused the collective gasp of astonishment that echoed around the room, but the magnificent diamond-and-sapphire necklace that was draped around her throat.
‘Forgive me, dear friends, but a minor crisis upstairs delayed my arrival,’ she announced to her assembled guests. ‘I trust you have been attended to in my absence.’
‘We have been very well treated,’ Lord Bessmel said as the baroness joined them. ‘The important thing is that you are here now and looking quite spectacular, if you don’t mind my saying so.’
‘I don’t mind you saying so at all, Lord Bessmel,’ Julia said with a soft gurgle of laughter. ‘In fact, I am convinced it is the one thing a lady never tires of hearing. Anna, my dear,’ she said, pressing her cheek to Anna’s. ‘How beautiful you look tonight. You will most certainly rob the gentlemen of their senses. And, Lady Lydia, how delightful to see you again. I trust your mother is feeling better?’
‘She is, Julia, thank you; she is so sorry she couldn’t be here this evening. Unfortunately, noise tends to aggravate her condition.’
‘I understand,’ Julia said with a sympathetic nod. ‘Megrims are such tiresome things. You are lucky not to be afflicted.’
‘Good evening, Baroness.’
Julia turned and her smile brightened. ‘Lord Cambermere, Lord Hayle, I am so pleased you were both able to attend.’
‘An opportunity to spend time in the company of a beautiful woman should never be missed,’ Cambermere said as he brushed his lips over her hand in a courtly, old-world gesture. ‘And may I say you look magnificent this evening.’
A becoming flush rose in her cheeks. ‘You are very kind to say so.’
‘Kindness has nothing to do with it,’ the earl assured her. ‘I’m sure there isn’t a gentleman in the room who doesn’t agree with me.’
‘Fortunately, most of them come with wives,’ Edward cut in smoothly. ‘Those of us who are single definitely have the advantage this evening.’
His smile was charismatic and his words flattering. Anna saw her father’s expression falter as Edward neatly inserted himself between them, but Julia’s attention was already diverted, her head turned towards the door. ‘And here is yet another handsome gentleman come to join our group. Good evening, Sir Barrington.’
Anna hadn’t needed to hear Barrington’s name to know that he was in the room. She’d felt the atmosphere change, a subtle quickening of interest as he crossed the floor like a sleek black panther moving through the forest. She saw heads turn, watched eyes widen and flirtatious smiles disappear behind discreetly raised fans. Obviously she wasn’t the only one impressed by the width of his shoulders and the unfathomable depths of those cool grey eyes—
‘Anna!’
Hearing Lydia’s voice, Anna turned, but it wasn’t until she saw the slight widening of her friend’s eyes that she realised she had been staring. Botheration! The last thing she needed was Sir Barrington Parker mistakenly thinking she was interested in him. Or worse, infatuated by him.
Fortunately, the gentleman seemed completely unaware of her preoccupation, his attention now focused solely on his hostess. ‘Good evening, Baroness,’ he greeted her in that distinctively low, seductive voice. ‘Forgive my late arrival. I was unavoidably detained.’
‘You owe us no apologies, Sir Barrington,’ Julia said easily. ‘You are here now and that is all that matters. I believe you know everyone?’
Sir Barrington nodded, his gaze touching briefly on each of them as he paid his respects. Finally, he turned to Anna, his mouth curving in that maddeningly provocative smile. ‘Lady Annabelle.’
‘Sir Barrington,’ she said, wishing she possessed even a fraction of his composure. ‘We have not seen much of you this past while.’
‘I was out of London for a few days on business, but made sure to return in time for this evening’s gathering.’
‘And for the fencing demonstration,’ Lord Bessmel said with a wink.
Sir Barrington turned to stare at him. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘The fencing demonstration. The one Lord Yew asked you to put on.’
‘Forgive me, Lord Bessmel, but I am not aware I was giving a fencing demonstration. Where did you hear news of it?’
‘From Lord Hadley,’ the older man replied. ‘He said he’d heard you speaking to Lord Yew, and that you had agreed to a series of open engagements at Angelo’s.’
‘Open engagements?’ Anna repeated. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means that every red-blooded male capable of lifting a sword will be there looking to take Parker on,’ Bessmel explained with a smile. ‘Should make for a damn good show!’
Anna glanced at Sir Barrington in bewilderment. Surely Lord Bessmel was mistaken. Sir Barrington Parker didn’t give demonstrations. Everyone knew that. And if he did choose to spar, it would be with someone of his own choosing.
Could this be the Marquess of Yew’s doing? she wondered. Had he demanded this of Sir Barrington as well as everything he had already asked of Peregrine? ‘Is this true, Sir Barrington?’ she asked in a low voice. ‘Is this what you agreed to do?’
‘Not exactly,’ he murmured. ‘What I agreed to was a private lesson with Yew’s son, pointing out areas where he might improve. I certainly said nothing about a series of engagements with anyone who felt up to sparring with me.’
‘But I fear that is what everyone is expecting,’ Bessmel said, adding hesitantly, ‘are you going to back out?’
‘Surely it cannot be called backing out when one never agreed to it in the first place,’ Lydia objected.
‘I wouldn’t have thought so,’ Sir Barrington agreed, ‘but I shall speak to Lord Yew about it when next I see him.’ Then, seemingly unconcerned, he turned his attention to their hostess again. ‘Baroness, that is an exceptionally beautiful necklace.’
‘Why, thank you, Sir Barrington.’ Julia caressed the deep blue stones with loving fingers. ‘My late husband bought it for me. He knew my partiality for sapphires.’
‘It is a remarkable piece of workmanship,’ Cambermere agreed. ‘I hope you keep it safely locked away.’
‘I haven’t thus far.’ Julia’s eyes widened. ‘Is London such a dangerous place that one need fear being robbed in one’s own home?’
‘Not as a rule, but I regret to say there have been a series of jewel thefts in London of late,’ Sir Barrington informed her. ‘I understand Lord Houghton’s home was broken into two nights ago and a number of valuable items taken.’
‘You should be on guard yourself, Cambermere,’ Bessmel said. ‘I dare say your daughter’s pearls are worth a pretty penny.’
‘They are, but I suspect to Anna, like myself, their value is far more sentimental.’ The earl turned to smile at her. ‘My wife loved pearls. She always said they drew their warmth from the one who wore them. I gave her that necklace on our wedding day.’
‘Was your wife born in June, my lord?’ Julia enquired.
Cambermere looked surprised by the question. ‘She was.’
‘Then she was fortunate to be able to wear them without tears. It is considered bad luck to give a bride pearls unless they are her birthstone.’
‘Then you must also have been born in June, Lady Annabelle,’ Sir Barrington said quietly, ‘for the pearls to glow so richly against your skin.’
Anna felt her cheeks grow warm at the subtle caress in his voice. ‘On the contrary, my birthday is in September.’
‘Then, like the baroness, you should be wearing sapphires.’
‘I say, Cambermere, these women could bankrupt us if they were of a mind to!’ Lord Bessmel said with a hearty laugh. ‘Now you will have to go out and buy your daughter a string of sapphires, just to appease the superstitious amongst us.’
‘I think not,’ Anna said quickly. ‘Sapphires are beautiful stones, but, like Mama, I prefer the warmth of pearls.’
‘I can understand why,’ Sir Barrington said as the others turned away to chat amongst themselves. ‘They are exceptional, as is the lady wearing them.’
Anna slowly raised her eyes to his face, aware of the fire in his eyes as his gaze lingered on her necklace. The low décolleté of the gown exposed far more skin than she was used to and she could almost feel the heat of his eyes burning her. When he finally raised his eyes to meet hers, the desire in them was plain. Was it any wonder her heart was beating double time?
Thankfully, Julia, catching the eye of her butler, said, ‘Dear guests, shall we proceed to the dining room? I do believe dinner is served.’
Chapter Six (#ulink_7624a40b-568f-512f-baf6-e44a7eab76e6)
At the conclusion of an exceptional meal, the baroness led the ladies into the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen to enjoy masculine conversation, good cigars and several fine bottles of port. Barrington, who enjoyed these sessions more for the information they provided than for the chance to socialise, accepted the offer of a light from Viscount Hayle, who settled into the chair next to his. Noticing the man’s obvious boredom, Barrington said, ‘Is the evening not to your liking, Hayle?’
Hayle slanted him a mocking glance. ‘I get tired of listening to men like Bessmel and Richards bickering over political situations about which they know nothing. It’s a waste of everyone’s time and, frankly, I’d rather spend the night gambling or in the arms of a mistress.’
Barrington drew on his cigar, taking a moment to study the other man through the rising curl of smoke. ‘I’m surprised Mr Rand didn’t come with you tonight. I thought he usually accompanied your sister to these kinds of events.’
‘He was invited but, thankfully, he declined,’ Hayle said tersely. ‘It’s bad enough having him around the house all the time, let alone being forced into society with him.’
‘You do not care for Mr Rand?’
‘Would you?’ Hayle fired back.
Barrington was startled by the flash of raw emotion he saw in the other man’s eyes and wondered if Hayle knew how much of himself he had given away. ‘I’m not sure I know what you mean.’
‘Then you’re the only one who doesn’t,’ Hayle muttered. ‘All you have to do is look at Rand to know he’s no more my father’s godson than he is the bloody Prince of Wales’s.’
So, that was it. The son suspected the connection and wasn’t in the least happy about it. Barrington tapped ash from the end of his cigar. ‘I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t heard rumours, but I don’t believe anything’s been substantiated.’
‘Of course not. My father’s the only one who can substantiate rumours like that and you can be damn sure he’s not going to. Not now that he’s met the baroness.’ Hayle’s eyes narrowed as he glared at his father sitting farther up the table. ‘It’s embarrassing the way he carries on with her. God knows, he’s old enough to be her father.’
‘I take it you do not care for the fact that the earl and the baroness seem to like one another?’
‘I do not. It’s unseemly the way he follows her around, hanging on every word she says. He might just as well come out and ask her to go to bed with him.’
Barrington reached for his glass of port, intrigued by the depth of vitriol pouring from the other man. ‘I think you judge them too harshly. Your father is an amiable gentleman and the baroness is an exceedingly gracious woman. And as they are both widowed, why should they not enjoy one another’s company?’
‘There is a considerable difference in their ages.’
Barrington shrugged. ‘The baroness can’t be any more than twenty-nine or thirty, and your father is, what … in his late forties? There are far wider gaps in age between husbands and wives in society.’
Hayle slowly began to smile. ‘Yes. Like Lord Yew and his wife. But then, I suspect you already know all about that.’
Barrington inhaled deeply on his cigar. Hayle was bound to know about Peregrine’s folly, but he was damned if he’d be the one to shed any light on the matter. When it came to secrets, he was as adept at keeping them as he was at prying them out of others.
Fortunately, Hayle didn’t appear to be in need of an answer. ‘How much do you think that sapphire necklace is worth?’ he asked instead.
Barrington’s shrug was carefully non-committal. ‘I’m no expert, but, given the size and quality of the stones, I should think it considerable.’
‘Enough to keep a man in brandy and cigars for the rest of his life, I’ll wager.’
‘Probably. How fortunate that you and I need not worry about such things.’
Hayle snorted. ‘Speak for yourself.’
Barrington’s gaze sharpened. ‘You are your father’s heir.’
‘Oh, yes. But as he’s still in his forties and hale and hearty, I’m not likely to inherit any time soon,’ Hayle said sourly. ‘So, what’s your connection with the baroness?’
‘We have no connection, per se,’ Barrington said, aware that the man changed subjects more often than a lady changed her mind. ‘We were introduced by your sister at Lady Bessmel’s reception and have seen each other at a few society gatherings since, but nothing beyond that.’ He gazed at the earl’s son through a fine wisp of smoke. ‘I understand it was your sister’s idea to launch the baroness into society.’
‘Of course it was. Anna loves to manage other people’s lives. Personally, I think her time would be better spent smoothing her way into some man’s bed,’ Hayle said in a disagreeable tone, adding when he saw Barrington’s stern look, ‘After she marries him, of course. Anna would never do anything as irresponsible as compromise herself. But it’s long past time she was wed. Father’s too soft. He won’t force her into an arranged marriage, even though he knows it would be best for all concerned.’
‘I’m sure your sister would have no problem finding a husband if that was something she truly wanted,’ Barrington said, careful to keep the annoyance from his voice. ‘She is an exceedingly beautiful woman.’
‘But meddlesome and outspoken,’ Hayle remarked. ‘Men don’t like that in a wife. They want quiet, biddable women who know their place. Anna is neither biddable nor accommodating, as I’m sure you know from the brief time you’ve spent with her. Mind, I’ve heard her mention your name more than once and that’s saying something. Better watch yourself, Parker, or she’ll have you in the parson’s mousetrap before you can turn around.’ He drained the contents of his glass, then signalled the waiter for a refill. ‘So, I hear you’re giving a fencing demonstration at Angelo’s this week.’
Barrington’s hand tightened on his glass. ‘No. I am giving Lord Yew’s son a lesson. In private.’
‘I heard you were going to fight.’
‘You heard wrong.’
‘But why wouldn’t you fight?’ Hayle asked. ‘You’re reputed to be the finest swordsman in London. Why not show everyone that you are?’
‘Because that’s not what I do.’
‘Then why are you giving Yew’s boy a lesson?’
‘I agreed to it as a favour to the marquess. I also happen to like Lord Gerald. He shows a great deal of promise with the foil and he is anxious to better himself.’
‘Maybe, but you’ll never make a fighter of him. He’s too soft,’ Hayle said. ‘He hasn’t the heart for it. You’d do far better sparring with me. At least I’d give you a run for your money. So what do you say? Are you up for it?’
Barrington’s expression was deceptively benign. He was used to cocky young men challenging him. At one time, he’d encouraged it, fond of pitting his skills against all comers. But that game had lost its appeal years ago.
He was about to say as much when the door to the dining room opened and one of the younger maids walked in. He hadn’t noticed her earlier in the evening, which meant she likely hadn’t been in the room. He would certainly have remembered her if she had. She was somewhere in her early twenties, with dark brown hair and rather startling green eyes—
