Annabelle sighed. “David let him win?” she breathed. “In front of the whole town.”
“He didn’t just let him win.” Marianne smiled through the tears. “After the race, the girl who David fancied at the time asked him if he’d purposely lost.”
“What did he say?” Annabelle asked, holding her breath again.
Marianne’s face was full of pride. “David said no, and the girl told him she didn’t want to spend another moment in the company of a loser.”
Annabelle gasped. Outrage shot through her. “She didn’t!”
“Yes.” Marianne nodded. “She did. David came home, and I asked him what happened. He said he didn’t care to keep company with a girl like that.”
Annabelle shook her head. “I don’t blame him. She sounds awful.”
“Oh, she was,” Marianne replied, rolling her eyes. “Mama never liked her, either.”
Annabelle laughed at that. “Well, Lord Elmwood certainly sounds as if he is right-minded when it comes to ladies. No wonder he told me he wasn’t interested in accomplishments.”
“‘Accomplishments’?” Marianne frowned at the word in much the same way her brother had hours earlier. “No. I can’t see David being particularly impressed by accomplishments. I must say I’m glad Beau isn’t either, as I’m not particularly accomplished myself,” she finished with a laugh.
“You are lovely, Marianne. And accomplishments are silly things the ton invented to make debutantes feel as if being no more than a prize at the market is actually worth something.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Marianne replied. “Tell me. Which young ladies will you introduce to David?”
Annabelle gave her a sly smile. “I’m still deciding but I do have a few prospects. Young women who have just made their debut, mostly.”
“There were some lovely young ladies at the Queen’s court,” Marianne replied.
Annabelle decided to ask the question that was on the tip of her tongue. “Did you know your brother intends to marry for love?”
A bright smile covered Marianne’s face. “I’d expect nothing less.” She stared at the wall and after a few moments, a more somber countenance replaced her smile. “Our Mama always told us marry for love and you’ll never regret it.”
Annabelle swallowed and glanced away. Well, that sentiment wasn’t true. Her own mama had married for love and had certainly come to regret it, but Annabelle wasn’t about to tell that to a woman whose wedding was in a matter of days. “What else should I know about your brother?” she asked instead to change the subject.
The smile returned to Marianne’s face. “David is kind, generous, funny, caring, and handsome, of course. Do you know he led a charge against the French in Portugal knowing it was tantamount to suicide? The enemy took him prisoner because he refused to stop running back again and again to save as many of his men as he could.”
Annabelle sucked in her breath. “Oh, my goodness. He sounds ever so brave.”
“He is,” Marianne said, pride obvious on her face. “He risked his life repeatedly, facing almost certain death.”
“That is something I’ve never been,” Annabelle breathed.
Marianne frowned. “What’s that?”
“Brave,” Annabelle whispered. “I’ve never been brave.”
“Well, I should hope you would rarely have cause to be,” Marianne replied, this time reaching over and patting Annabelle’s hand.
Annabelle smiled and shook her head. “Of course. Now, what else?” She pasted a bright smile on her face.
Marianne launched into another tale of her brother’s valor, this time a story of how he saved a young hare from a trap, bandaged its paw, and nursed it back to health before releasing it into the forest. How could one not think the man was a saint?
Annabelle listened to story after story, peppering questions about Lord Elmwood’s likes and dislikes in between. Two hours later, when she stood to leave, she felt as if the air had been sucked from the room. She must have asked Marianne two dozen questions about David’s tastes, dreams, hopes, and preferences, and in the end, she certainly had one lady in mind. A lady who met all the criteria and then some. A lady who was eligible, accomplished, witty, clever, and possessed of both a fine family and a small fortune of a dowry. A lady who never would have blamed him for purposely losing a competition to make his younger brother feel special, and would have gladly helped him nurse the hare back to health. In fact, a young lady who just might fall in love with him a little for doing both.
Herself.
Chapter Ten
The next morning, David arrived strictly on time for his lesson with Lady Annabelle. He’d said and done some unfortunate things yesterday. Asking her age had been particularly wrong of him. But he hadn’t been able to stop himself. Besides, she’d proven herself to be game enough when she’d cheekily answered him later.
Lady Annabelle had proven his assumptions wrong on a handful of scores yesterday as well. It appeared she was not the vain, pampered debutante he’d thought she was after their initial meeting. She’d been witty and wise and kind to him yesterday, not scolding or prim or haughty in the least. She even made fun of herself, referring to herself as ‘on-the-shelf.’ Nothing could be further from the truth. He had absolutely no trouble seeing why flowers were streaming through the door, or why the betting book at White’s was filled with bets on her marriage prospects. Though David could also understand why it all seemed ridiculous to her, especially since she clearly had no intention of taking a husband. She still hadn’t exactly explained why she was so set against it, but he supposed that was none of his business. Lady Annabelle had been kind enough to offer to help him learn the rules of Society, and he intended to do so expediently. He would be a model pupil.
To that end, he was recommitted to being a complete gentleman in her presence today. How difficult could it be? He only needed to stifle the urge to say nearly anything he’d normally say and pretend to be interested in things he would never be interested in. Like titles and parties and calling cards. He smiled to himself as he jogged up the stairs to Bell’s front door.
Within moments of knocking, David was escorted past even more flowers in the foyer and into the salon. Were some of the new arrangements from the same men who had sent flowers yesterday? That seemed overdone. Or did ladies like that sort of thing? He frowned. Lady Annabelle hadn’t seemed to give a toss about the flowers, but did other young ladies desire daily bouquets? How would he ever learn all these things?
He was still contemplating the perils of sending too many flowers when Lady Annabelle came floating into the room. She was wearing an ice-blue gown that made her eyes seem brighter. She wore white gloves and slippers and had a small daisy in her hair. No doubt pilfered from one of the many arrangements in the foyer. She looked fresh and rested and as lovely as ever.
“Good morning, Lord Elmwood. How are you today?” she asked as soon as she saw him standing near the window. “I’m sorry to report that Mama has taken ill this morning and sends her regrets that she cannot attend the lesson.”