Courting a Luscious Lady (Preview)

Chapter One

London, England 1810

“Your debut, darling. Be sure to smile and keep your chin lifted. Remember, do not hide your face. It must be seen.”

Annie lifted her chin as per her mother’s words once their names were announced and they walked into the ball.

“People are looking,” Annie whispered, so quietly she rather thought her mother wouldn’t hear her, but Barbara had, and her smile widened.

“It is as it should be,” she said with glee. “Give them something to admire, dear.” Barbara led the way forward down the stairs. Annie followed, slowly, trying to keep her carriage tall and her smile easy. It was as her mother had taught her to do.

One must always walk as if the eyes of the room are upon you.

Annie repeated one of her mother’s lessons in her head, determined to keep to it. It was the way of the world, she knew that. Each person gathered at the ball that evening was on display, paraded round for the sakes of their reputations. If she was to be accepted as part of the ton, then she must perform to their standards.

Smile, walk smoothly, never raise your eyes too far, nor lower them too much….

She continued to quietly chant her mother’s lessons as she descended the stairs. At the bottom, she and her mother were greeted by their hosts, Earl and Countess Rushmore, before they were moved on.

“Well, dear, I think that was a very successful entrance,” Barbara whispered in Annie’s ear as she took her arm. “Even now, despite the fact others are arriving, there are people still looking at you.”

Annie was unsure what to make of it. She wished to perform to her mother’s standards and make her proud, yet she couldn’t help feeling a little like an exhibit at the Tower of London menageries. With white feathers pressed into her hair to contrast the dark blonde strands, she felt as if she were a bird pressed behind the bars in that menagerie, staring back at those looking at her.

Amongst the stares, she saw someone looking straight at her, waving eagerly.

“Now, who shall we speak to first?” Barbara asked, looking back and forth. “I am most determined to introduce you to Lord Hibberd. He is searching for a wife.”

“Mama, when I said I was ready for a suitor, I do not remember saying he should be your age.”

“I am hardly that old, thank you very much,” Barbara said, turning such pursed pink lips on Annie that she struggled to stifle her laugh. “But yes, I see your point. Remember our deal, Annie. You cannot stay at home much longer. By the end of the Season, you must have found a husband!”

“Is it that simple to find a husband? Oh, yes, with a click of the fingers, it is then done,” Annie said wryly, earning a glare from her mother.

“I found a husband fast when it was needed, now it is your turn, Annie. For your future happiness and comfort, it must be done.”

Annie nodded, despite the unease within her. She had long ago accepted that when she found a husband, it would be an agreed thing, more of a business deal between cordial acquaintances, for those were the marriages she had always seen. She had not expected there to be a deadline for being wed, but her mother had introduced one regardless. 

“Let the introductions wait for a minute, Mama. I see someone I wish to talk to.” Annie took her mother’s hand and drew her across the room. Shifting her dance card to her other gloved wrist, they carved a quick path through the crowded room, moving past standing candelabras with flickering flames atop the tall stems, and moving around gentlemen that were drinking and laughing heartily. The closer Annie got to her destination, the more her friend disentangled herself from her own conversation and hurried forward.

“Annie!” Peggy said the moment she was close, reaching out to take her hands. “Goodness, I am glad to see you. Another minute in my cousin’s conversation, and I feared the boredom would turn me into a statue,” she whispered, bringing a smile to Annie’s cheeks.

“Miss Grove, one should not say such things,” Barbara warned, but Peggy shrugged off the words.

“I agree that one should not be heard to say such things, but I know Annie will not repeat it to anyone.”

“I quite agree,” Annie said, linking her arm with Peggy’s.

“I think I will leave you two for a moment. Annie, dear, I will find some people to introduce you to. Now, be careful, and do not drink too much punch.”

“Yes, Mama,” Annie said, waiting for her mother to depart. Barbara wandered off, her tall frame rather formidable as she cut a path through the room, heading toward her friends. The moment she was out of earshot, Annie turned swiftly back to Peggy. “So, what do you wish to tell me so eagerly?”

“How can you tell I have something specific to tell you?” Peggy asked, lifting her dark eyebrows and pushing the black curls back from her forehead.

“You think I cannot read your manner by now?” Annie asked. “You get a wrinkling to your temple, just here, when you wish to speak to me.” She pointed to her own temple. “Plus, you are clinging to my hand so much at this moment, you would think your life depended on it. Loosen your grasp a little, or I will lose the power of my fingers.”

“Oops, I’m sorry,” Peggy said hastily. “Very well, as you can see, I am bearing a secret, then I will tell it to you.” She glanced back and forth, clearly deciding their position was not the best one for which to impart a secret, as she took Annie’s hand and drew her toward the side of the room.

Annie passed the guests, finding more than one person looking her way. She had to remind herself to keep her chin lifted and, every now and then, glance down demurely, just as her mother had instructed.

I must be proper, at all times.

Peggy released her hand once they reached the far side of the ballroom and took cover in an arched alcove that overlooked a set of windows. Here, they were alone and a few steps away from the main party, meaning their voices were masked completely by the violin music that accompanied the dancers.

“My cousin came to me today with clear instruction,” Peggy said quietly. “It seems I now must join you in your endeavour to find a husband, Annie.”

“You must?” Annie said in surprise.

“Yes. My cousin may be my guardian, but he does not take kindly to having to pay for my board. He has given me this Season to find a husband.” Peggy chewed her lip so much, it turned red. “What a to-do this is! The way he spoke of finding a husband, he made it sound like a game of shuttlecock. Oh yes, it is so simple to find the one man in the world who can make your heart beat faster.”

“Ha! What a romantic notion you have,” Annie said with a giggle, watching as Peggy’s brows lifted.

“What is so wrong with being romantic?”

“Realism, my friend, realism,” Annie kept her voice calm as she spoke. Deep down, Annie might long to know what love could be like. She could acknowledge that the great romantic tales certainly made such an idea sound inviting, but she had not witnessed love with her own eyes. More than once in her life had she seen couples marry for comfort and position. That seemed like the more likely outcome. “My mother has made it plain that I must marry too,” Annie said quietly, “but I do not have any grand ideas when it comes to the notion of love.”

“None at all?” Peggy said, wrinkling her nose.

“No,” Annie lied.

I must tamp down any hope I have.

“What does your mother hope for?” Peggy asked, turning back to look at the other guests. 

“Much in the way of position,” Annie said with a sigh as she looped her arms with her friend, joining her in appraising the guests. “Since Father died, she lives on only a small annuity. It is enough to maintain us, but for how long it can maintain the two of us, who knows. We have the house, but that is only for now.” Annie shifted her weight between her feet, finding her discomfort growing. 

She had grieved for her father last year when he had passed, as had her mother, but these days Barbara’s worries were strictly for money and propriety. Woe betide what would happen if anyone knew of how much their finances had dwindled! Annie knew that for her mother’s sake, she had to continue with the allusion of wealth.

I must hold onto our reputation, and I must marry soon to protect us both. 

“My mother is keen for me to marry well, and within this Season. There is to be a ball at the end of the Season, held by ourselves, as with every year. She has given me an ultimatum to find a husband by that moment,” Annie confessed in a whisper. “She hopes then I will have a comfortable future. She also hopes for me to marry a gentleman of position, of good reputation too, though one whose name is not known so well to be whispered by everyone here.”

“Good lord, she has quite a list for what your future husband should be like! Not to mention a tight deadline in which it can be achieved,” Peggy declared with a laugh. “It seems we are together in this, Annie. Both of us are under instruction to find a husband within a few months. Something tells me my cousin and your mother’s expectations are wild beyond imagination. What else does she hope for in your husband?”

“She not only has a list but could write a full volume on what man she wishes me to marry,” Annie murmured, turning her eyes up to the ceiling above them as if she could look to the heavens themselves and plead to her father for help. “My future husband must be a man of good taste, who can respect art and culture, but he mustn’t have his head in the clouds and must have a good income from his investments too.”

“It sounds more like she wants you to marry a business than a man.”

“Hmm, you could be right,” Annie said, chewing her own lip as she returned her eyes to the room in front of her.

When she was younger, Annie had dreamed of what love could be like. After reading Pamela by Samuel Richardson one day, she had picked Cupid’s flower, the pansy, from the garden, admiring the perfect white and purple colours. When she was a little older, she had been sent some wedding cake by her cousin. Following through with a tradition she was once told, she had wrapped a piece of it in linen and placed it beneath her pillow, to dream of her future husband. Rather disappointingly, she had dreamt of nothing.

It was not the only occasion that had dispelled Annie’s hope of love. She had seen her mother and father argue often enough when he was alive to make love seem like something that was a mere creation in books. She, too, had seen her cousins marry for arrangement only. Some of them were very happy indeed, but they acknowledged their husbands were their friends, and it was nothing more than that.

“Tell me this then,” Peggy asked, nudging Annie with her elbow. “What do you wish for in a husband?”

“I wish….” Annie thought hard as she sighed. “I wish to make my mother happy.”

“That was not quite the answer I was looking for.”

“It is the one I shall give,” Annie said with a smile, lifting her chin higher. “So, I shall find a good man, who fits my mother’s criteria, and I shall pray that he shall like and respect me enough for a marriage to be agreed upon.”

“So romantic, be still my beating heart!” Peggy cried, flapping her fan in front of her chest. Annie laughed heartily before turning her gaze on the guests. “What of Lord Myers then? He is certainly a respected man.”

“That he is, but he spends more time abroad than he does at home these days,” Annie said as their eyes followed a particularly tall and fair-haired gentleman across the room. “I would like a husband who I would see at least. Oh, what about Sir Robert Falconer for you, Peggy?” Annie asked, gesturing to a shorter man with a spring in his step as he hastened across the room. He was such a happy fellow, so eager to greet those around him that he barely looked where he was going. The result was falling into two different people.

“Hmm, I may not demand a perfect gentleman, but I think my cousin would despair of me if I brought Sir Falconer home to meet him,” Peggy said quietly. “Oh my, a gentleman has just entered we have not discussed before.”

“Who?” Annie asked, turning her head to the stairs. When the names were announced, she froze, for two names were read out that she had read often enough in the scandal sheets.

“Lady Jemima Wynn, the Countess of Shrewsbury, and Lord Luke Yeatman, son of the Earl of Wells.” The announcer stepped back as the two moved forward, descending the stairs.

“Lady Jemima Wynn?” Annie repeated. “Is that what he said?”

“It is,” Peggy added hastily. “I had not known she intended to return to society. Who would have known she would come back after what happened to her, especially holding onto her brother’s arm in such a way?”

Annie glanced around the room, aware that they were not the only ones now gossiping about the newcomers. Many whispered, so much so that the room grew a little louder. The pairing could not have been oblivious to the fact. Lady Shrewsbury seemed to make the effect of maintaining her smile as she descended the stairs, whereas her brother had stiffened.

Annie’s eyes landed on Lord Yeatman, rather startled by what she found there. He was tall, strikingly so, and the brown hair atop his head was so dark it was nearly black. It curled away from his temples rather than being excessively coiffed and slicked in the way so many gentlemen wore their hair these days. His dark eyes that surveyed the room made Annie swallow around a sudden dryness in her throat.

“The rake,” she murmured, remembering what she had read in the scandal sheets about him.

“You would have thought after what happened to Lady Shrewsbury, she would try to distance herself from any more scandal. Fancy coming here with a rake on her arm, even if he is her brother.”

“She cannot escape scandal now. I suppose she has accepted that fact,” Annie whispered in amazement. She could remember well enough what she had heard of Lady Shrewsbury. 

When the lady had first entered society, a few years ago now, she had been caught in the arms of an older man, one who had refused to marry her. The lady’s name was ruined, and the reputation of her entire family was thrown into question. It had shocked everyone when the Earl of Shrewsbury had visited town and married her within a few months.

“Scandal,” Annie whispered. “God forbid it ever visits our doors, Peggy. I would hate to wear that haunted look Lady Shrewsbury wears now.”

“She is smiling,” Peggy pointed out.

“That smile is paper-thin, I can see that.” Annie let her eyes wander over Lady Shrewsbury for a minute. She was a beauty, with dark hair like her brother’s and elegant features. The smile was clearly difficult for her to hold, for her cheeks quivered.

“Talking of false smiles, put yours in place,” Peggy urged with  a hurried whisper.

“Whatever for?”

“Because Mr Jacob Knight is coming this way.” Peggy elbowed Annie forward a step, prompting Annie to stand straight and maintain her good posture, turning to see a gentleman was indeed approaching them.

“Miss Grove, good to see you again,” Mr Knight said politely as he bowed to her in greeting.

“And you, Mr Knight. May I introduce my friend, Miss Anne Storey.” Peggy gestured to Annie as she curtsied.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Knight.” Annie curtsied formally as Mr Knight bowed once again in her direction.

“The pleasure is mine. I know this must be rather presumptuous, Miss Storey, but I am afraid I had a very particular purpose in approaching the two of you, as I rather hoped our mutual friend here would introduce us.”

“You did?” Annie said in surprise, startled by the words though they were spoken formally.

“If you are not otherwise engaged, would you do me the honour of dancing the next set with me, Miss Storey?” Mr Knight’s question hovered in the air, unanswered for a second as Annie looked over him.

She had heard of Mr Knight through Peggy. He was a gentleman of business, the younger son of a Viscount, and certainly of someone who was of an eligible position for her to marry. Though she knew little more than that. In her quick appraisal, she judged him to hold himself well. He had an acceptable smile and a tolerable countenance, too.

Mama may approve.

“I would be delighted, Mr Knight.” Annie offered him her hand. He smiled and took it, escorting her away with enough slowness to give her the chance to exchange a look with Peggy before she followed.

As they took to the floor, Annie soon lost any hope she might have felt in the dance. Her frequent attempts to make conversation were not responded to eagerly, so she and Mr Knight danced a cotillion mostly in silence. She judged him to be polite and a pleasant dancer, perfectly proper, but there was little warmth in his conversation, and to her mind, he seemed rather distracted. Every now and then, he would look away from the dance floor as if searching for someone else.

As they completed their dance and Mr Knight escorted her from the floor, she thanked him politely for the dance before she found Peggy, who had moved on to stand by the drinks’ table.

“Well? What did you think of Mr Knight?” Peggy asked excitedly as she poured herself a glass of claret. “Does he meet the rather long list of requirements your mother has specified?”

“He was perfectly polite and proper.”

“So, that is a ‘yes?’” Peggy said, offering to pour her a glass too. Annie found herself hastening for that glass.

Yes, Mama would certainly like Mr Knight.

Yet despite the thought, Annie was left cold. She was not really sure she had enjoyed the dance, let alone enjoyed Mr Knight’s company. She was so busy trying to take a sip of her claret that she did not notice someone moving toward her, not until she felt a firm bump into her side.

“Annie!” Peggy called out, but the damage was done. 

Annie fell into the wine table, knocking over glasses, as the person who had bumped into her hurried to right themselves.

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry,” a voice said quickly. “I hope the wine did not stain your gown?”

“No, it is fine,” Annie said, holding onto a proper tone as she stood straight and turned to see who had bumped into her.

God’s wounds! It is the scandalous Lady Shrewsbury.

 

Chapter 2

“I am truly sorry. Someone pushed into me, and I lost my balance.” Lady Shrewsbury seemed eager to make her apologies, repeatedly looking down at Annie’s dress to check the gown was not spoiled.

“Please, do not worry,” Annie said as she too looked down. To her amazement, she had escaped the worst of the damage. There were a few specks of white wine that had fallen from the champagne glasses onto her skirt, but her own claret had fallen away from her, leaving her largely unstained.

“Jemima, someone pushed into you, and that is all you can say?” A deep voice made Annie look beside Lady Shrewsbury, to see who had spoken. The voice belonged to Lord Yeatman, who appeared to be scoffing and shaking his head, staring after two ladies who were making a hasty retreat across the room. “Yes, that was an accident. In the same way that I could declare a fox ending up dead on a hunt would be an accident.”

“Luke, please, enough dry humour.” Lady Shrewsbury waved a hand in his direction and gestured to Annie.

Annie exchanged a look with Peggy, trying to gauge her thoughts. Seeing the way Peggy’s eyes were narrowed, she clearly suspected the same thing she did. Some rather cruel ladies of the ton had bumped into Lady Shrewsbury on purpose, disliking her for her reputation.

“If you would excuse us,” Annie said hurriedly. She wasn’t desirous of staying in Lady Shrewsbury’s and Lord Yeatman’s company, not that she would have done anything like what the other ladies had done. 

“Please, before you go, do ascertain if there is any damage to the gown,” Lady Shrewsbury said eagerly. “I would hate to be responsible for it. You must at least allow me to pay for a new gown.”

“Again, Sister, you would not be responsible for it.” Lord Yeatman spoke drily as he shifted his focus away from the retreating ladies. When his eyes lifted to meet Annie’s, she felt a jolt in her stomach. He smiled at her in such a way that the jolt only became worse.

Good lord, no wonder the man is a rake.

She felt infinitely ashamed for her thoughts a second later and glanced at Peggy, praying they could make their escape soon. She knew very well what her mother would think to see the two of them in the company of such a pairing.

Never keep company with those talked of in the scandal sheets. That is rule number one!

“I am Lady Shrewsbury,” the lady hastened to introduce herself. “This is my brother, Lord Yeatman.” He bowed at his own introduction.

When Annie grew aware that, like her, Peggy was staring quite openly at the handsome man before them, Annie realised she would have to be the one to do the introductions.

“I am Miss Anne Storey, daughter of the late Viscount Maybury, and this is my friend, Miss Peggy Grove.” As Annie gestured to Peggy, she subtly stood on her foot, trying to bring awareness to her behaviour. Peggy flinched and curtsied along with Annie.

“I do apologise again, Miss Storey,” Lady Shrewsbury said in a rush.

“You’re embarrassing Miss Storey, Sister,” Lord Yeatman said with a smile. “Apologise much more, and all and sundry here will hear you.”

“I am hardly that bad,” Lady Shrewsburysaid, glancing at her brother, though her smile showed she was abundantly used to her brother’s jests.

Annie stared at Lord Yeatman for a minute, rather startled by his sense of humour. It was unusual for this circle. She had always been told by her mother that these affairs were property events, concerned with propriety. Lord Yeatman didn’t seem to care a thing for it, as he kept glaring after the two ladies that had caused the ‘accident’, and his wit was so dry that it pulled at Annie’s lips more than once, tempting her to smile. Realising how close she had been to smiling, she knew she had to extricate them both from this event.

What will Mama say to this introduction!

“We should be moving along—” Annie tried once again to step away, but Lady Shrewsbury was clearly not prepared to leave it at that.

“Is the gown stained at all, Miss Storey?”

“No, it is fine, and I thank you for your concern,” Annie said hastily, moving back to the table with her empty glass. “The situation is easily remedied.” She looked about with disappointment, realising that the claret carafe was empty thanks to other guests. “Ah….”

“Here, I have not yet drunk from mine.” Lord Yeatman’s voice was followed by him exchanging his glass for her own. 

“I could not, my lord.”

“Why not? It is no bother.” He placed her empty glass behind him on the table again. Annie flicked her eyes to Peggy, seeing she was shaking her head a little in suspicion. She knew well enough what Peggy was thinking.

This man is a known seducer and destroyer of reputations. What kind of message would it send to accept a glass of wine from him?

“I am not sure I am thirsty after all,” Annie said, struggling to replace the glass on the table, though she now found Lord Yeatman to be in the way. “I shall drink later.” His lips quirked into a smile, and he folded his arms, blocking her way to the table entirely, so that she fell still.

“Would you have been thirsty had another man given you the drink?” His words were so plainly spoken that Annie felt herself stand taller, and a blush of embarrassment began to creep into her cheeks. This was not what she was used to! People put up appearances and kept their thoughts hidden. She was unused to gentlemen who would speak their minds so openly.

“Lady Shrewsbury, that is a fine gown you are wearing,” Peggy spoke quickly, clearly trying to move on the conversation and rescue Annie from her awkwardness. 

“Thank you,” Lady Shrewsbury said, smiling so much that the compliment had evidently meant a lot to her. “I am fond of your gown, too.” As the two exchanged compliments, Annie attempted to return the glass once more to the table beside Lord Yeatman. The moment she put down the glass, he picked it up again, his fingers brushing hers in such a way that she snapped her hand away.

This is not what is supposed to happen. I am supposed to be talking to proper gentlemen with good reputations, not brushing hands with a known rake!

“If I put the glass down again and you pick it up from the table, rather than my hand, would that then make it acceptable to you?” he asked in a whisper so only she could hear him. She narrowed her gaze, rather startled at the game he was playing. He clearly knew that she did not think a great deal of him, and rather than being ashamed of it or trying to hide the fact, he was calling her out for it.

“I am simply not thirsty anymore,” Annie said hurriedly.

“Very well, then tell me this. Who drinks claret because they are thirsty in the first place? It is a drying wine, do you not think?” 

His logic irked her all the more. She stared at him, wide-eyed, searching for some retort as he pressed the glass toward her another time.

“Annie, your mother is calling us.” Peggy’s words gave Annie an excuse to look away at last. She glanced across the room to see her mother waving in her direction. Annie could even see in the rather mad way Barbara was waving her fan back and forth that she was scared, clearly worried as to why Annie and Peggy were talking to two such people with scandalous reputations.

“Ah, we must go. It was a pleasure to meet you, my lady, my lord.” Annie curtsied to them both, aware that Lord Yeatman was still smiling.

“You found it a pleasure, did you?” he teased, so quietly that she wasn’t sure she had heard him right. As she stepped away, glancing back to look at him, it was apparent that Peggy hadn’t heard him, for she took Annie’s arm and dragged her away rather quickly.

The two of them hastened across the room, slipping between groups of guests and wandering round the dancers in their attempt to get to Barbara’s side. When they reached her, Annie was unsurprised by the vice-like grip that Barbara took on her wrist and held down by her side, hiding it from the view of others. It didn’t hurt, but it was persistent, meaning that whatever Barbara was about to say, the words would brook no refusal.

“Why in the lord’s name were you two talking to such individuals?” she asked, looking between them. “I say this to protect you both. Miss Grove, you must take heed, as much as my own daughter.” She glanced around them, checking no one else was listening to their conversation. “You may both be expected to marry this Season, but speaking to a man like that and a woman with that sort of reputation will only damn you both.”

Annie looked too, only seeing that everyone else was too interested in their own conversations to take note of theirs. Some ladies fluttered fans in front of their chests, clearly trying to draw focus down to their necklines, and gentlemen had wandering eyes as they talked to ladies. Annie’s gaze drifted further away, until she saw Lady Shrewsbury and Lord Yeatman together. Lady Shrewsbury was talking animatedly in conversation, but Lord Yeatman was staring straight back at Annie. Feeling those dark eyes upon her, she snatched her gaze away again.

“It was an accident, Lady Maybury,” Peggy hurried to explain. “Lady Shrewsbury bumped into Annie.”

“We extricated ourselves as quickly as possible,” Annie added to the explanation, rather relieved when her mother released her wrist and nodded in understanding.

“Good. I am sure they are perfectly nice people, of course. You know I do not judge others for what is said of them in the scandal sheets.” Barbara’s words made Annie bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. “Yet one must be careful who we associate with. After all, if others judge them, then they would judge you for associating with them, would they not?”

“Yes, Mama. I understand.” Annie tried to end the conversation quickly. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the discomfort after toppling so many glasses over that she wished to forget such an incident or whether it had something to do with that dark pair of eyes she feared were following her around the room. Either way, she was eager for the conversation to end.

“Good, now come, Annie, Miss Grove. I have people to introduce you to. Friends who I am certain it will help your standing to know.”

As Annie and Peggy followed after Barbara, Peggy had a smile she tried to hide by fluttering her fan in front of her face.

“Why do you smile so?” Annie whispered quietly to her so that Barbara could not hear the two of them.

“I was just wondering how your mother judges what a true friend is,” Peggy whispered back. “Does she judge them on kindness, their conversation, and other such virtues? Or do their virtues merely extend to their title and the vastness of their land?”

Annie failed to hide her own laugh. When Barbara glanced back at them with raised eyebrows in question, Annie cleared her throat.

“Apologies, a frog in my throat,” she explained, to which Barbara hurried off again. Annie and Peggy exchanged another glance before they followed.

Annie soon lost track of how many people she had been introduced to. There were many names, lots of titles, and so many mentions of grand estates that she began to muddle the names of the estates with the names of the people.

“Nightburn? That was the house, dear,” Barbara tutted once Annie had got one of the names wrong again.

“Oh, was it?” Annie asked, feeling her cheeks begin to blush with embarrassment as they extricated themselves from the latest group they had been introduced to.

“Mr Hughburns was the name of the man,” Barbara explained as Annie tried to exchange a pleading look with Peggy, to ask for her help. Yet when Annie glanced behind her, she found Peggy had been absorbed in deep conversation with a man she did not recognise.

“Mama? Who is that?” Annie asked, pulling on her mother’s arm to bring her to a stop. Barbara glanced before nodding with a small smile.

“Clever of Miss Grove to orchestrate an introduction. That is Mr Barton. Mr Adam Barton. No title that I know of, but he has a grand estate in Cornwall. I’ve heard he can be a little wild in manner, but do you not think him handsome?”

“I rather suspect he would not be so handsome if his estate was not so grand.”

“What was that, dear?”

“Nothing.” Annie felt a stuffiness in the room. She was always eager to follow her mother’s rules and make a good impression on the strangers that they met, but sometimes it was rather difficult to maintain the stiff posture and the constant smile. “If you would excuse me, Mama, I will just take a minute of fresh air.” She pointed toward a glass door that led out to a courtyard.

“You will need accompanying.” Barbara stepped forward to go with her, but Annie held up her hand, pleading with her to stop.

“There is no need. We can see from here the courtyard is empty, and is not that Lady Denver coming to speak with you?” Annie pointed behind her mother, seeing her words worked, for Barbara looked away and hurried off to find Lady Denver, leaving Annie free to make her escape.

The moment she stepped outside, the chilly air of the spring evening hit her. She hastened to close the glass door behind her and took a few steps away to tip her chin to the darkness of the sky and breathe in the air. At once, she felt her shoulders relax a little, and the shawl slipped a little from her shoulders, hanging loosely around her waist.

“The company in the ballroom a little much for you?” a deep voice called to her. Annie blanched, her chin dropping downward as she recognised that voice. “I could hardly blame you for it. Do you think we are all born with this want of pretence, to put on a show to be someone we are not, or do we learn it over time?”

Annie turned her head, looking to the side of the courtyard to see there was someone out here after all. Lord Yeatman was perched on a stone bench, hidden under a lofted archway in the corner of the courtyard. Flanked by two white urns blooming with early spring flowers, he looked quite out of place. He was a rumoured demon surrounded in white. 

“Good evening, again.” He smiled, seeming to note her discomfort. 

Do I amuse him?

“I should….” Annie turned, eager to get back into the ball. What would people say if they saw her out here alone with a rake after all? She would be condemned by society! Her name would appear in the very scandal sheets that she so disparaged.

“There is no need for you to go.” Lord Yeatman shuffled along on his stone bench, making a space for her. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, turning his gaze far ahead again. “I was rather enjoying my escape from the people in there. I would not begrudge that escape to anyone else.”

“I cannot tell if you are jesting or not.” Annie found her feet didn’t make the escape she so desired. She looked back at him in wonder, watching as his dark eyebrows raised a little.

“I couldn’t blame you for that. I’m fond of a jest, though not everyone understands my humour. Shall we exchange pleasantries instead?” he said with a smile, perfectly politely. “Shall I compliment the ball? You could then reply by saying what good company there is tonight.”

“You seem to be partaking in the conversation for me.”

“Ha! I am merely predicting the usual banality of such pleasantries. You must think something similar to escape out here too. Do you not?” This time when his dark eyes landed on her, they were piercing, so much so that she knew she had to escape.

“New acquaintances usually partake in such banal conversation. It is polite, courteous, and a way to know each other.” Annie found herself repeating her mother’s words. “It is the done thing.”

“Well, I do not concern myself with doing the ‘done thing’, as you call it,” he said with a small smile, turning his gaze forward in the courtyard again. “Believe me, Miss Storey, I would infinitely prefer to be out here and talking of something that truly mattered, rather than in there.”

“I should….” Annie tried to leave again, but she noted how her shawl had slipped from her shoulders. It made her hasten to reset it, so that she would appear as she must do when she re-entered the room.

“You fuss that shawl as a man would fuss with a dog, with too much affection.”

“I nearly dropped it,” Annie tried to explain herself, though her fingers fell limp around the shawl. It felt a rather foolish thing to bother with when such a plain-speaking man was before her. He frowned a little at her as if he thought it a nonsensical thing to worry about. “If you would excuse me.” Annie curtsied, trying her best to be polite as she hastened to the door. Despite her efforts to make a courteous escape and not offend, she scrambled with the door, missing the handle the first time in her effort to leave. She heard his chuckle following her as she stepped inside.

With the door closing behind her, she cursed under her breath.

I must pray no one saw us out there together!

A lady alone in the company of such a man was a scandal indeed.

---

“Courting a Luscious Lady” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Annie knows what it is to be a proper lady. She may be ready to marry, but she prefers her rules, duty and responsibility over looking for a love that only exists in fairytales. The night Annie dances with a dashing rake at a ball everything changes though. Backed into a corner, unable to refuse, she feels strangely excited by this son of an earl. With the promise of flirtation and a thrill like no other, each time Annie sees Luke, she begins to realise that love might not be a creation of fiction after all…

But will her preoccupation with being proper keep her away from him forever?

Luke is careful with his rakish ways, especially after seeing his sister’s honour ruined for nothing. He will not destroy a debutante’s unimpeachable reputation. Yet he has never been as tempted to throw out all his rules as he is after meeting Annie. One thing leads to another, and despite all his vows to stay away from her, he finds it is the last thing he wants to do.

Will Luke take a leap and risk everything for the sake of love?

Together, Annie and Luke will be drawn into a web of their own making. Luke’s attempts to protect Annie from himself only end up hurting them both. With one of Luke’s past flames out to cause trouble, can Annie and Luke face the sabotage together? Or will they be forced to live in the shadow of their scandal? With so much at stake, will Luke and Annie be prepared to gamble on love?

“Courting a Luscious Lady” is a historical western romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

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