Percival stepped back and lowered his hand from Simon’s throat. “I will be just outside the front door, watching.” He cast one final, sharp glare at Simon. “But if Ieverhear you speak of Lady Anna with such disrespect again, if we ever cross paths again, do not think you are out of harm’s way.”
All Simon could do was nod.
“Anna.” Percival bowed his head to her, and, with that, he headed for the front door, which he left open as he stood guard on the top step of the porch.
Anna gazed at his broad shoulders and elegant back for a moment, her heart swelling, her stomach fluttering wildly. To her guiltiest pleasure, that was the very sort of thing she had daydreamed about happening, ever since she was old enough to daydream: The most handsome man sweeping in to defend her honor, letting it be known that if anyone wished to say a bad word against her, they would have to go through him.
And, with the exception of their searing kiss in the Orangery, that might have been the most thrilling, exhilarating moment of her life.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
“Goodness, this is not what I expected to be greeted with today,” Simon muttered, as he sat on the bottom step of the staircase, licking his wounded pride.
Anna folded her arms across her chest, pleased to find that she no longer felt any awkwardness in his company. “And what, pray tell,wereyou expecting? Forgive me, but you know you are not welcome here.”
“Who told you that?” Simon rubbed his neck, peering up at her suspiciously.
“Lady Caroline,” Anna replied.
Simon shook his head. “That is nonsense. She was encouraging of my pursuit.”
“When?”
“Pardon?”
Anna smiled sweetly. “Whenwas she encouraging of your pursuit?”
“It is common enough knowledge that when a lady is interested, she pretends that she is not,” Simon said, as if Anna were an idiot.
“Alas, that is more of a common myth. When a lady is interested, she will show that she is interested. It will be there in her smiles and her laughter and her desire to be nearer to you and the way she, perhaps, stumbles over her words when she is answering a question.” Anna crouched down to his level. “I would also advise not upsetting her friends, for that is unlikely to serve you well.”
He puffed out a breath and leaned forward, holding his head in his hands. “I am sorry, Lady Anna.” He shook his head slightly. “I do not know what has become of me. I am not ordinarily like this.”
“What do you mean?”
He lifted his gaze, and his eyes were bleary. “I have never been so captivated by someone, and… my mother and father have threatened me, demanding that I marry before the end of the year.” He glanced toward the drawing room door, where Caroline was pretending not to eavesdrop. “I have been driven to madness, Lady Anna.”
“I hear that can happen,” she said, more gently. “However, you know that your pursuit of Lady Caroline must end here, do you not?”
He nodded weakly. “I knew the same night I began that rumor about you.” A pained smile curved over his lips. “I should not have done that to you, Lady Anna. You were nothing but nice to me, and believe it or not, I really did mean it when I said I hoped we could be friends. You are… lovely, Lady Anna. And I am grateful that the rumor did not spread. Truly, I am.”
“Why did you mention it at all?” Anna pressed.
He shrugged. “I knew you were in the Orangery—I had gone there myself to seek some solitude, to forge a plan of how to approach Lady Caroline. I saw you through the doors.” His gaze flitted to the stoic figure of Percival, still standing sentinel, and shuddered. “Then, I saw the Duke of Granville coming toward the Orangery. An idea came to me.”
“Was he right—did you do it to thwart him?”
Simon hesitated. “I did it to thwart two potential suitors at once. I knew His Grace had ceased his suit, but I wanted to make doubly certain. And I knew that Lady Caroline had shown an interest in your brother. So, I thought that I could kill two birds with one stone, and distract your brother enough with a family scandal to prevent him from spending time with Lady Caroline.”
“I would marvel at your stroke of inspiration if it had not nearly cost me my reputation,” Anna said stiffly. “Yet, the most deceitful schemes rarely offer the conclusion you desire.”
“Is what you do not deceitful, in a way?” Simon countered, though not unkindly. He seemed too tired for that.
Anna chuckled. “What The Matchmaker puts into the letters she sends is usually the things that the parties involved are not courageous enough to say. I might embellish, but I am never deceitful in the cruel sense. I help an affection that already exists to bloom. You tried to kill all the flowers around the bloom and ended up killing that too.”
He laughed quietly, meeting her gaze with a sheepish expression. “I had not thought of it like that, but I suspect you are right.” He paused. “I am sorry, Lady Anna. It was wrong of me to say, and to think, that your fate did not matter. I was… desperate, I suppose. Desperate to find a love I desired, rather than a wife of convenience that will be chosen for me.”
“I doubt we shall ever be friends, Lord Luminport, butthatI can understand,” she told him, feeling a little bit sorry for him. He would not have been the first person who had been driven somewhat mad by the prospect of having their parents pick a match for them.
