Simon could not have been more surprised by her explanation than if she had told him she was born a man. And it was his shock that kept him immobile long enough for her to dip under his arm and start to march past him in sure, strong, perfectly normal steps. Anger surged within him. She obviously had not considered that if she were going to claim to be lame, then she needed to at least feign a limp. He did not need to dig further. The woman enjoyed rebutting men she deemed unworthy of her lofty, beautiful person, and she did not bat an eyelash at ruining a man without being certain she knew the truth of what had happened. So, he would not hesitate to use her. He swung around and grabbed her arm, releasing her immediately when she whipped her gaze to his hand clutching her. He could not let his outrage and lust for revenge dictate how he proceeded. “I’m sorry. My instincts to keep you near me overcame me,” he apologized.
He suddenly had an idea of how he could see Anne repeatedly and not have to worry about her grandfather knowing of it. He would use her own lie to his benefit. “I’m an excellent dancer,” he said. It was true. His mother had forced him and his sisters to learn because she’d been so sure that one day his grandfather would forgive his father for marrying her and that the man would want to meet his grandchildren, and then they’d be part of Society. A hard knot lodged in his chest, thinking upon his mother.
“I could teach ye,” he said.
Slowly, Anne turned her head toward him, a smirk on her face. “And what would you want in exchange for teaching me to dance and for keeping my secret?”
“A kiss,” he replied, giving her the reply she would expect from a rake.
“I knew you were a rogue,” she pronounced. Her lips drew together in a satisfied smirk that truly did make him want to kiss her.
“I admitted as much,” he said, irritated at his very real desire for her.
“I would be the worst sort of fool to willingly visit a self-admitted rogue in the privacy of his own home. Not to mention it’s highly improper.”
Which went perfectly with his plan to bring her to the edge of scandal. Still, he sensed she was leaning toward denying him, and if he was to have any chance of seducing her, he had to be around her. “Ye could bring a chaperone,” he offered, hoping that Anne would wish to keep this private outing a secret.
“No.” She shook her head, then gave a little shiver and wrapped her arms tightly about her waist.
Slowly, he stripped off his topcoat, initiating his plan to see Anne once more. He held it out to her. “May I?”
She looked at his topcoat as if it were laced with poison, but when the wind blew a hearty gust, she said, “All right.” She quickly turned and held her hair off her neck. He settled his coat on her shoulders, his hand grazing the silken skin of her back. His body tightened in response, desire flaring even as he pulled his hand away.
When she faced him once more, she gazed at him with an almost hostile look. Perhaps the lovely Anne simply detested men?
“You know very well,” she said, her words clipped, “that if I brought a chaperone, she’d have questions. And as teaching me to dance in the privacy of your home is quite improper, I could not tell anyone what I was doing. You are hoping that my wish to learn to dance will overcome my good sense, as any savvy rogue would.”
“Mull the idea over tonight,” he suggested. “I’ll stay in residence from noon until two tomorrow, hoping to see ye.”
“Your day will be wasted if you wait for me,” she said in an obviously false sweet tone.
“Waiting for ye will be my pleasure,” he replied, uneasy that there seemed to be a part of it that was true. He was seducing her now, but it was more pleasurable than simply revenge. He enjoyed her quick banter.
“Tell me, Simon,” she said, an edge to her voice. “I saw you standing with a man, Lord Rutledge. Did you meet him tonight, or do you call him a friend?”
She’d been waiting to ask him, he realized with surprise. “I’ve known Rutledge for many years,” he said, curious as to her intent in bringing this up now. “And I call him friend.”
She made a derisive noise, her lips twisting into a smirk. “I daresay I’m not surprised. Rogues often move about in packs like wolves.”
“Rutledge is no rogue,” Simon growled, losing his temper and his tongue.
She arched her eyebrows. “That is not what I’ve been told,” she said, her tone barbed.
He took a moment to rein in his ire. He knew better than to let emotions rule him, and it was unlike him to do so. “Perhaps what ye have been told is incorrect.”
“OrperhapsLord Rutledge failed to tell you what he did to my friend!” She sounded incensed, as if she truly believed Rutledge had ravaged her friend.
Could he have been wrong about her and needed only to set her straight to stop her from smearing Rutledge? If he’d been wrong, he could not use her to attain his vengeance. “He told me,” Simon said slowly. “Yer friend, Lady Fanny, isn’t it?”
Surprise widened her eyes as she nodded.
“I believe ye and I have heard two different versions of one story.” He was certain his version was the correct one. He’d known Rutledge for over a decade, and the man had proven time and again to be honorable. Simon believed his friend completely, yet it was futile to try to outright convince someone who had the same belief in their friend. Instead, he told her what Rutledge had claimed occurred.
“That’s preposterous!” she sputtered. “Your friend lured Lady Fanny into the library and then kissed her without her permission!”
He knew damn well that Rutledge would never do such a thing. The man had to marry a woman of means, which Lady Fanny apparently was not, but he could not reveal Rutledge’s family shame. “I cannot believe he would do that,” Simon said. “I have known the man for thirteen years, and he has been honorable through all of them.”
“Says one fiend about another,” Anne muttered. “We are at an impasse, Your Grace. I believe it’s time I bid you good night and farewell.”
