David frowned. “Lady Annabelle must have many suitors,” came the next sentence from his mouth. Excellent. He was clearly committed to saying obvious things today. Bad form.
Lady Angelina lifted her gaze skyward. “You’ve no idea. It’s become quite tiresome…particularly because Annabelle has shown no interest in any of them.” The older woman set the daisies on another table on the opposite side of the hall.
David nodded. “Is that so?”
“Yes, she’s had a score of offers the last five Seasons and has turned them all down with hardly a moment’s thought.” Lady Angelina voice was filled with frustration. “Oh, but I must tell you I wouldn’t mention such a thing to you if you weren’t nearly family already. It’s considered ill-mannered to brag about one’s daughter’s marriage prospects, but truly, Annabelle is the most trying young lady. Beau and I have nearly given up on her ever choosing a husband.”
David kept his mouth shut. The way he understood it, Bell was the one turning down the offers, not Annabelle. The marquess obviously took his sister’s wishes into account, however. That was good of him. David would have done the same for Marianne had she received other marriage offers before becoming betrothed to Bell.
But a score of offers? David’s mind flashed back to the men at the club. What was it Lord Murdock had said? “Let’s just say that Lady Annabelle has been out for five Seasons and has yet to pick a husband, despite having at least a score of offers, according to the gossips.” Apparently, the gossips were right. Perhaps that was why Lady Annabelle had behaved the way she had that night in the Harrisons’ gardens. If she were pursued to the extent that the men at White’s made it seem, if she were hounded by men the way these flowers implied, no wonder she’d been rude. But why didn’t she simply pick some chap and marry? That was certainly curious.
“Pardon my distraction, Lord Elmwood,” Lady Angelina said, turning back to face him. “I sent Stockton for more water. I’ll show you to the salon. Annabelle is already there. We’re eager to begin your lessons.”
David highly doubted that. Clearly the two ladies were only helping him as a favor to Bell, but regardless, he would take their assistance. “Thank you, my lady,” he said as he followed Lady Angelina toward the salon.
When they reached the salon door, Lady Angelina opened it. Lady Annabelle was standing at the windows, sunlight streaming in and making her hair look almost silver. She was wearing a dark-pink gown and had a white rosebud in her hair. She looked stunning. David immediately wondered how he’d ever fit into this world with these beautiful, wealthy people. Apparently, it was in his blood, but it certainly didn’t feel that way at the moment. He’d much rather be back in a camp a thousand yards from a battlefield. Dirty and so tired he couldn’t sleep. That made sense to him. That was something he could handle. This was…nerve-racking.
Lady Annabelle turned at the sound of the door opening and quickly crossed the deep rug to greet David. “Good morning, my lord. I trust you slept well.”
“I did.” He nodded and cleared his throat. “And you?” Was it ill-bred of him to ask a young woman if she’d slept well?
“Yes, indeed,” Lady Annabelle replied, with a smile. Apparently not. Unless she was only humoring him for the moment. He supposed he’d find out soon enough.
Lady Angelina smiled and nodded at them both. “If we hadn’t had so many deliveries this morning, I would join you, but as it is, I’ll just leave the door open and you two can begin. I’ll be in the foyer if you need me.”
“Yes, Mama,” Lady Annabelle said. She turned to take a seat on the settee near the windows and gestured to David to take a seat across from her.
“Would you care for tea or coffee, my lord?” Lady Annabelle asked when they were both seated.
David eyed her warily. “Let me ask you this…if I were calling upon a young woman I fancied, would I accept an offer of tea or coffee?”
Lady Annabelle smiled and it lit up her eyes. She was even prettier when she smiled. “Well, first, you wouldn’t be calling on a young woman until afternoon,” she explained. “Social calls are made then. That reminds me, do you have your cards made up?”
David nodded and fished inside his coat pocket. He pulled out a card and handed it to her.
She read aloud his name, title, and address.
Lady Annabelle studied it carefully. “Lovely engraving. Lovely vellum. Simple. Clean. This is an excellent calling card, my lord.”
“Thank you. Your brother helped me to procure them.” At least he’d got the calling cards right.
“And I notice it doesn’t say ‘Mr. Ellsworth.’” Her mouth quirked up in grin.
He took the card back from her and stuck it into his pocket again. “That was an honest mistake. I’m not used to calling myself ‘Elmwood.’”
“Understandable,” Lady Annabelle allowed. “As for the coffee or tea, yes, it would only be polite to accept if your hostess offered you either. Unless you were eager to leave.”
David frowned. “Why would I pay a call on someone if I wished to leave immediately?”
Lady Annabelle’s eyebrow arched, and she smiled again. “I see we have much to discuss, my lord. I can think of a half dozen reasons why one would pay a call on another person and desire to leave as soon as possible.”
David frowned. “It wasn’t that way in Brighton. We paid calls on our friends, people we actually liked and wanted to spend time with.”
She nodded. “Yes, that happens here too.”
“But?” He drew out the word and cocked his head to the side, waiting for her explanation.
“But there are also reasons why we pay calls we don’t want to prolong.” She finished by primly folding her hands in her lap.
David sighed and scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Confusing, if you ask me.”
She gave him a knowing smile. “I never said it wasn’t confusing, my lord. But I will teach you the intricacies.”
David leaned forward in his seat. “Why must it be so intricate? And as for calling me ‘my lord,’ I truly wish you wouldn’t.”
Lady Annabelle crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him, blinking at him prettily. “It would be entirely inappropriate for me to call you anything else.”
“My name is David,” he replied.
“Be that as it may, we do not know each other well enough for me to call you by your Christian name, and you don’t know me well enough yet to call me by mine. Only close friends use each other’s Christian names.”
He grinned at her. “Does that mean there’s hope once we get to know each other better?”
Her mouth quirked up again in the smile he was quickly coming to realize was uniquely hers. “Yes, there’s hope.” She shook her head. “Now. Allow me to ring for tea, and then I suppose we may start with the proper usage of the cards.”
“Coffee,” David said.
“Pardon?”
“I prefer coffee.”
“Oh, of course. That’s fine.” Lady Annabelle rang for the butler, who appeared moments later and promised to return with the refreshments forthwith.