An Invitation to Sin (6 page)

Not the slightest.

Not even if Maria did favor him.

Not even if the earl had committed murder.

Anna feared she was a sad case.

She was finding it impossible to forget her encounter with Lord Carne, who was not marked by debauchery, and whose scar enhanced rather than diminished his appeal. Nor could she forget the feel of being in his arms, of his thumbs gently wiping away her tears, of his mouth exploring hers.

These were not suitable thoughts for a sixteen-year-old schoolroom miss. Anna was painfully aware that her parents would be appalled if they could read her mind, and that saddened her for she loved them very much.

For she now knew she was wicked.

Every night when she went to her room she had to fight the temptation to open the secret door and venture once more into the territory of the wicked Earl of Carne.

The next day Anna did venture outdoors, for otherwise her mother would send for a doctor and it was Anna’s experience that doctors never admitted that a patient was healthy—there was no money in that. They always prescribed some medicine or treatment, invariably unpleasant. She had no mind to be dosed with tonic or worse, blistered, purged, or have blood let.

What Anna wanted to do was to attack the lending libraries again. She had long since finished the books from her last trip, and more than ever she wanted a copy of
Forbidden Affections.
She quailed, however, at the thought of walking down fashionable streets where she might come face-to-face with the Earl of Carne.

Instead, she gathered Martha and Arthur and announced a walk in the park. She was sure wicked noblemen did not walk in the park at this unfashionable hour. The dangerous moment would be leaving the house when there was the slight possibility that the earl might be doing the same thing. All Anna could do to lessen that hazard was to wear her deepest-brimmed bonnet.

As it happened, her precaution was unnecessary and she and her escort left the house with no incident at all.

Anna delighted in the brisk walk in the summer sun after so many days of idleness. It was almost like the country. Trees were in heavy leaf and bright splashes of blossom broke the smoothness of daisy-speckled grass. Ducks and swans cruised the small lake, while at the edges children pushed out toy boats. She also had Arthur’s gossip to enliven the day.

“Setting in for a regular stay,” Arthur said. “New staff and all. The Murchisons don’t much care for it if you ask me, Miss Anna. They’ve had an easy life all these years, living in comfort with no one breathing down their neck.

“Not but what they haven’t done a good job,” he added quickly. “And what a business about that young woman! Had a word with Jack Murchison myself, I did, and every word is true. They did think, as we did, that perhaps the earl had had a bit too much and imagined it, but Jack said he had clearly been hit a mighty blow on the head. And what’s more, there was a ribbon. A female’s hair ribbon!”

“Heavens!” gasped Anna, thinking such a response appropriate. In truth, she’d hoped that scrap of silk had been overlooked.

“No way to tell whose, of course. It’ll be a mystery till Domesday, if you ask me, for she was doubtless just a sneak thief, thinking the house was empty. For all we know, she’d been in the habit of prowling the house, snitching things, for years …”

Anna stopped listening at that point because she was pondering the fact that the earl did not appear to have told anyone that the intruder was in her nightgown. It was true the weather was warm, but it was hard to imagine any woman going thieving dressed like that.

She wondered uneasily what the earl
was
imagining.

Then, as if summoned by her thoughts, she saw Lord Carne, elegant in blue jacket, buff breeches, and tall beaver, strolling along the path toward them.

Chilled by panic, Anna swung away from the path to stare at some trees. “Look, a kingfisher. How peculiar to see one here in town!”

“A kingfisher, Miss Anna?” asked Martha, shielding her eyes. “You must be mistaken.”

“Oh, I could have sworn … Are there other birds of such bright color? It was a flash of the most remarkable blue! What other bright birds are there? Parakeets? Might one have escaped …?”

She maintained this ridiculous chatter as long as possible, but eventually was forced to turn back to the path. With a wash of relief, she saw that the earl had passed them and was well ahead on the path.

She wished the wretched man in Hades. What possible business had a gazetted rake to be in the park at this time of day when only doddering ancients and nursemaids with children were supposed to use it?

And why did he have to look so very elegant …

“Miss Anna! Are you all right?”

Anna snapped her wits together. “Yes, Martha. I just had a thought, that’s all. But it is doubtless time to return home.”

By the time they arrived at Carne Terrace, Anna was well into the blue devils. She could not go on like this, afraid to step outside the door, gabbling about kingfishers in Green Park! Perhaps it would be best to confess all to Papa and have done with it. She wouldn’t have to confess to that kiss, after all, for surely the earl must be as ashamed of it as anyone.

But her courage failed her.

Her parents would be so shocked by the fact that she had invaded someone’s home, never mind her brutal attack. And how was she to justify the attack without revealing the kiss?

No, she told herself, the chances of meeting the earl again were really quite slight since she didn’t move in fashionable circles. Her mother had assured her that now the Season was well underway, the hours kept by the
ton
would not be those of ordinary people. The fashionable throng rose at midday and returned to bed in the early hours of the morning.

If Anna kept her outings to the morning, she should be safe.

It was most irritating that the Earl of Carne did not keep fashionable hours.

At least, as far as Anna knew, he danced the night away with the rest of Society, but it seemed he often rose at an early hour as well. Her careful observation of the front door of number 10 showed him leaving to walk or ride at nine or ten of the morning.

She was beginning to wonder if her mind were disordered, for it did seem to her that no matter what time she chose to leave the house, the earl was likely to appear, forcing her to hurry in or out to avoid giving him a clear view of her face.

And she was extremely tired of wearing her coal-scuttle bonnet.

She was also concerned for her sanity because she had a disturbing tendency to study the man when she could do so secretly.

At first, she had tried to persuade herself that she was merely studying the enemy, but she was not in the habit of deceiving herself. The truth was, she liked to look at him.

There was a presence to Lord Carne, an unconscious authority in every movement. He moved with remarkable grace, and she had the impression that at any moment he could respond to danger if need be.

From behind her curtains, Anna studied his features and was forced to conclude that they were completely perfect. Not perhaps as smooth as some gentlemen’s, and there was that scar, but in her opinion they were everything a man’s features ought to be. His bones were excellent, his nose straight, his lips well-shaped and neither thin nor pouty …

She was inclined to linger on the thought of those lips and how they had felt against hers. She very much wanted that sensation again.

But not, she told herself firmly, at the danger of exposure or ruin!

Her obsession was not improved by the fact that she now had a copy of
Forbidden Affections
to study. There could be no doubt that Roland—Lady Delabury had even used his first name!—was the earl. Or Lord Manderville, as he had then been. If Anna took the youth in the picture and merged him with the man living next door, she had an exact representation of Roland of Toulaine, Dulcinea’s gallant lover.

That this merely confirmed the fact that Lady Delabury and Lord Manderville had been lovers was depressing indeed, especially when it suggested that the earl might have caused the lady’s death, even if only by driving her to suicide.

There was nothing in
Forbidden Affections
to cast light on Lady Delabury’s death, however, and Anna returned the book to the library and read Mrs. Jamison’s other five novels. The rereading confirmed that she enjoyed them more, and it puzzled her.

The heroine was always the same—a variety, Anna supposed, of Lady Delabury herself, or Miss Skelton as she had been before her marriage. The heroes, however, were varied. Anna thought them a rather unrealistic lot. She had never known men to be so inclined to protest their extreme unworthiness to even touch a lady’s hand, or to weep with grief at having dared to steal a kiss.

All this did rather incline Anna to remember a gentleman who would never weep over that stolen kiss, and would never for a moment imagine himself unworthy. She touched her own lips, remembering another touch, and was alarmingly aware that it would not take much for her to say to the Earl of Carne, “Kiss me again, please.”

Lady Featherstone was not always right. Sometimes young ladies
did
plot their own downfall.

Perhaps it was just that the constant avoidance of the earl was so wearing, or perhaps it was a secret wish for ruin. One day, when Anna returned home and encountered the earl leaving his house, as close to face-to-face as two people twelve feet away could be, she did not duck her head and scurry. Instead, she stared at him, chin up, daring him to summon the constables.

He was startled, then a slight smile moved his lips before, with the slightest nod of acknowledgment, he went on his way.

Anna went into the house in a daze of horror and relief.

He knew!

It was as if he’d spoken to her and told her that he knew, and had known all along.

She was horrified that anyone knew what Anna Feather-stone had done. At the same time there was tremendous relief. Clearly he was not going to call in the law, was not even going to inform her parents. And she didn’t think the composed gentleman she had encountered today was going to lie in wait to have his wicked way with her.

She was just the tiniest bit disappointed about that.

By the time Anna had her bonnet and spencer off, reaction had set in, threatening tears. The great drama of her life had proved to be as substantial as a … a soap bubble! Rather than spending the past weeks searching for a mysterious, dangerous intruder, the Earl of Carne had known all along that it had been a mere schoolgirl neighbor, and had been amused.

It was intensely mortifying.

Anna would have liked to flee to the country or fall into a convenient fatal decline, but this being reality rather than a novel, she had to go on with life and try to put the whole matter out of her mind.

When she began to pay attention to events around her, she found that the wicked earl was being received everywhere. No one seemed to care anymore about
the incident,
and Lady Delabury’s death was being politely ignored.

Maria was a great success, and though she had not made her choice, it was likely that she would accept an offer within weeks. Mr. Liddell was still a constant attendant, but his chances of success seemed slim. Now that Lord Carne was back, his heir had no prospects beyond a small estate and a government post.

Anna returned to spending her time as originally planned, visiting historic places and educational exhibitions. In fact, she should perhaps have acted this way all along, for she never encountered the earl in these activities.

Then he began to show a marked interest in Maria, causing a great fluttering in the Featherstone nest.

“I have grave reservations,” said Lady Featherstone at luncheon one day. “For all that the earl behaves quite properly, I cannot forget his past.”

“Time heals,” said Sir Jeffrey. “Morals as well as hearts. Since there is no evidence of anything but wildness in his past, I think Lord Carne should be judged on his present behavior. What do you feel, Maria?”

Maria raised a hand to her head as if dizzy. “I must be sensible of the honor, Papa. But I am not sure I can forget his past. Mr. Liddell has told me such things …”

“Mr. Liddell has his own ax to grind,” Anna pointed out.

“I know that,” said Maria, her expression a blend of irritation and complacency. She did enjoy being fought over. “But it is generally accepted that he … that the earl had an improper relationship with the woman who died. I cannot overlook that in a man.”

“Then you’d best get yourself to a nunnery,” Anna muttered.

Maria gasped, and even her father raised his brows in surprise.

“Anna!” exclaimed Lady Featherstone. “Go to your room at once, and study Bishop Stortford’s sermon on unclean thoughts.”

Anna flushed with mortification as she rose and curtsied. What had possessed her to say such a thing? “Yes, Mama. I beg pardon, Mama.”

In her room, however, Anna didn’t study the sermon—which she knew almost by heart—but contemplated the terrible reason for her outburst.

Jealousy.

She was jealous of Maria, and could not endure the thought of the Earl of Carne being her brother-in-law.

Which led to the next incredible step.

She wanted him for herself.

Anna laughed out loud. It was impossible, and exactly the sort of silly infatuation girls seemed prone to, but that did not make it any the less powerful at the moment. She ached with the loss of something she had never had, or had hope of.

She was honestly convinced, however, that Lord Carne and Maria would not suit. There was nothing wrong with Maria, but she needed a husband who appreciated sensibility and delicate feelings. The Wicked Earl would find Maria’s airs a dead bore inside a month.

There was nothing a schoolroom miss could do about this, however, except be miserable and intensify her efforts to avoid the man. It would be the last straw if she made a fool of herself by acting like a lovesick moonling over him.

Anna thought avoiding the earl would be easy, but she hadn’t considered the consequences of his interest in Maria. He now had the entrée to number 9.