Tender Secrets of a Lady’s Pen (Preview)

Chapter One

The fingers of Anna Montclair’s hand ached as she pressed her quill into another thick piece of paper on her rosewood desk. 

But it was no use. After secretly writing alone in her bedchamber for several hours, her thoughts had begun to scramble as the muscles in her wrist tensed like stretched piano wire.

Anna returned her quill to its holder and sighed. She had only so many stolen hours a day to work without interruption, so every moment spent at her desk was precious. 

Yet if her parents ever discovered what she’d been writing almost daily over the past year, they would surely lock her away to avoid a ruinous scandal.

She sprinkled a final dusting of pounce powder over her freshly inked pages and wrapped them in an old linen cloth. Then she buried her manuscript inside a desk drawer under two etiquette books for respectable young ladies.

Both books were gifts from her father. Neither had ever been read.

A loud knock rattled Anna’s door and repeated with an enthusiastic persistence that she recognized.

“What is it, Georgiana?” Anna shouted with annoyance. She had hoped to be alone to rest her mind for a few moments more.

Anna’s younger sister spoke in a loud whisper through the keyhole. “James is speaking with Father in his study! Anna, it is happening right now!”

Anna leaped from her chair, scurried to the door, and flung it open. Her secret writings and ink-stained fingers were suddenly forgotten as her sister’s beaming face came into view.

“Captain Barrett has asked for your hand?” 

Georgiana floated across Anna’s Persian rug and feigned a dramatic swoon of happiness onto her back on the four-poster bed. Her raven black hair, the same color as Anna’s, tumbled out of its combs as if announcing its freedom from all restraint.

“Yes! I am to be an officer’s wife! It is the most wonderful news, is it not?” 

Anna felt her stomach twist. Though an engagement was exciting news for Georgiana, Anna’s idea of happiness did not include being a dutiful wife. She pressed a hand to her belly, fearing it would rumble loud enough to reveal her hunger for a different life than the one her sister craved.

She managed a weak smile despite feeling suddenly unwell.

“Wonderful news, indeed! Captain Barrett is a fine and respectable man, though perhaps a little hasty with his proposal? You are not yet nineteen and have only been courting for a few months.”

Georgiana, ever conspicuous with her every emotion, pulled herself off the bed and wrapped her arms around Anna’s bedpost. She pressed a flushed cheek against the leaf carvings in the wood and fluttered the long lashes of her glistening blue eyes.

Every day spent with Georgiana felt like watching a theatrical unfold.

“Not even your distaste for romance can spoil my day, Anna. Father has always approved of our match, so there is no need to delay our nuptials. Now come with me to listen through Father’s door!” 

Georgiana grabbed her sister’s hand, then hesitated. 

“Is that ink on your clothing?” Georgiana pointed at two dark purple stains on the skirt of Anna’s cream-colored batiste dress. “Sister, you cannot spend all day writing letters in this drafty room and expect a man to ever find you!” 

Anna frowned but resisted the urge to declare that she had no intention of ever being found. While Georgiana favored social events where ladies fluttered their fans at eligible gentlemen, Anna preferred gatherings where women dared to speak of their creative and intellectual interests.

Or, better yet, she desired more quiet days at home, crafting the stories she might never be allowed to share openly. 

Not published under her own name, at least.

“You are well aware that I write more than correspondence.” Anna stepped to her rosewood dresser and sifted through the folded day dresses neatly stored inside. With Georgiana standing near in a fashionable gown of dark purple silk, all of Anna’s clothes paled by comparison.

“Are you still writing those silly stories? You promised Mama that you would stop, did you not?” Georgiana wrinkled her nose as if writing were a detestable pastime.

Anna decided on a pale sage muslin dress and motioned for Georgiana to help her change into it. Both sisters had their own ladies’ maids, but Anna only called on hers when absolutely necessary or, as was more often the case, when forced to do so by her mother.

“They are not silly stories, Georgiana. And I fail to see the harm in a woman becoming a novelist. I have worked hard to hone my writing skills since I was a young girl. Why should a man be allowed to publish his work when I cannot?”

Georgiana fastened the hooks and eyes at the back of Anna’s dress, then tied the thick sage ribbon attached to the high-waisted bodice.

“You are a mystery to me, Anna Montclair. Why you shy away from polite society while also demanding scandalous reform within it is beyond my understanding. But I suppose I am somewhat of an enigma, as well. Who knew I would fall in love with a soldier instead of a duke?” Georgiana laughed at her own jest, then linked arms with her sister. “Come! Let us prepare to celebrate my engagement!” 

Unfortunately, what awaited the sisters outside Lord Montclair’s study was nowhere near celebratory. Georgiana’s soldier was seated alone in a leather wingback chair in the outer hallway, frowning deeply.

“James? What is it?” Georgiana’s eyes widened with fear as she crouched to the floor and took her beloved’s hand. “Do not tell me that Lord Montclair has refused you!”

Captain Barrett shook his head, then clasped Georgiana’s hands in both of his. He was dressed in uniform, complete with white linen breeches and a red coat with black facings. His ash brown hair was lightly powdered and neatly combed back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

“No, my love. But he has asked us to wait.”

Georgiana gasped. “Wait to get married? Whatever for?”

Anna touched her sister’s shoulder. “You will be nineteen at the end of the year, Georgiana. I am certain that Father will be more agreeable to your engagement by then.”

Captain Barrett looked up at Anna with worry in his warm brown eyes. “I believe it has more to do with you, Miss Montclair, than with Georgiana’s age. Lord Montclair is waiting to speak with both of you in his study.” 

Georgiana rose to her full height again and stared wild-eyed at her sister’s shocked face. “Has Father discovered your writings? Please tell me you have been discreet!” 

Anna shushed her sister, then spoke in a quieter tone that would not reach her father’s ears on the other side of his study door. 

“Of course, I have been discreet. Father will explain his reasoning, so let us not waste time in this echoing hallway speculating about it.”

With barely two years between them, it was often difficult for outsiders to detect which Montclair sister was older. Yet Anna was obviously the one with the most experience steeling herself against restrictive decisions made by their traditionalist father. She knew full well that her father cared a great deal more about maintaining his family’s strong standing in London society than he cared about the whims and wishes of his two children.

Georgiana’s blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but she squared her shoulders and nodded in agreement. 

“Yes, of course.” 

Captain Barrett stood and gave Georgiana’s hand another squeeze. “I will wait out here for you, unless your father asks me to leave.” 

Georgiana smiled at him and nodded again. Then she held her head high and entered her father’s study without knocking first. 

Anna quietly followed. She had a sinking feeling that she would be the sister feeling the most disappointment when they walked out of that room again.

Lord Montclair studied a thick ledger on his desk. His monocle was clenched against an eye as blue as Georgiana’s, but his was stern and serious. His neatly combed hair held more gray strands than its original obsidian color, yet one would rarely catch a glimpse of it since Anna’s father wore a traditional powdered wig most of the time.

Anna stared at her father’s real hair with wonder. What else about their true selves did men hide from the world just because it was the tradition? She had begun to fear the suppression of tradition years ago, when her carefree childhood days turned into a series of rules meant to silence her.

“Ladies, I must remind you that propriety is of the utmost concern in our family.” Lord Montclair continued to study his ledger without meeting his daughters’ eyes as he spoke. “Therefore, we shall maintain the traditions of matrimony as we would any other respected practices of London society.”

Georgiana sniffled but replied in unison with Anna. 

“Yes, Father.”

Lord Montclair continued in a matter-of-fact tone, “I must insist that my older daughter finds a proper match before my younger daughter is allowed to marry.”

Anna gasped and felt her stomach twist for the second time in the past hour. Georgiana remained silent, but her unshed tears finally broke free and slid down her face.

“Father, Georgiana and I are very close in age, and we are both debutantes in good standing, are we not?” Anna’s heart pounded like the bass drum in Captain Barrett’s military band. How could her father be so cruel to Georgiana?

And how could she possibly meet his demand to find a proper match first? The nonsensical cat-and-mouse games of London’s marriage mart made her deeply uncomfortable. Dance cards literally caused rashes on her wrist! No, she was not suited for prancing like a peacock to attract a husband. 

“You have been out in society for two seasons already, Anna. You shall find a match first.” Lord Montclair finally removed his monocle and glanced up at Georgiana. “Captain Barrett has agreed to wait, so there is no harm done.”

Normally, the stoic Montclair daughter, Anna suddenly felt a river of rage swirling through her veins. She was very close to finishing her first novel and greatly valued the writing privacy her independence allowed. Marrying a man for the sake of her sister would put an end to that independence and the happiness that came with it.

“Father, I beg you to reconsider, for Georgiana’s sake …” 

Lord Montclair stood up from his chair and scowled. “I have worked hard to become one of the most respected and trustworthy baronets in all of England. Therefore, we have a reputation to protect, and it is my duty to protect it. Your duty is to do as you are told. I will ask your mother to gather a list of suitable gentlemen for my consideration. That is all.”

Georgiana reached for Anna’s hand and held it tightly. They both knew there was nothing more to say. The sisters turned and walked quietly toward the door. 

“Anna, one more thing. For reasons beyond my comprehension, you received an invitation today to a literary salon hosted by Katherine Moorland, the Duchess of Keswick. I believe this to be in error. Under no circumstances are you to attend such an improper event, of course.”

Anna whirled around and stared at her father with shock. “Kitty Moorland invited me to one of her salons? Father, this is an incredible opportunity! She is a celebrated patron of the arts!”

Lord Montclair narrowed his eyes. “No respectable duchess calls herself Kitty. And no respectable daughter of a baronet attends literary salons. Do I make myself clear?”

Anna was dumbstruck. Her father had yoked her to wifehood and taken away the only social event she’d ever cared about in only a few minutes.

Georgiana gave Anna’s hand another comforting squeeze. “Father, what if Mr. Westbrook allowed his daughter Lydia to attend the salon with Anna? Certainly, if Mr. Westbrook approved of such an event for Lydia, then it must be a worthy place to be.” 

Anna wanted to hug her sister for standing up to their father, but she stayed quiet and prayed for a miracle. Lydia Westbrook was Anna’s closest friend, and her father was a highly respected gentleman. He owned vast expanses of valuable land and had proved himself worthy of her father’s respect through successful business dealings in the past.

Lord Montclair’s face was as unreadable as stone, but he was listening.

Georgiana continued her campaign, gaining confidence each second that their father did not cut her off. “Literary salons are attended by honorable men of the peerage, Father. Eligible ones. Would you deny Anna the opportunity to woo a wealthy marquess just because he enjoys reading?”

A surprising hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Lord Montclair’s mouth. Georgiana had always been able to lighten their father’s mood, whereas he and Anna often repelled each other like oil and water.

“There will be no wooing of anyone by a daughter of mine. But perhaps the urgency of finding a proper match for you warrants further consideration.” He stared into Anna’s eyes as if trying to determine if she could be trusted. “If Lydia Westbrook is also attending the literary salon with a proper chaperone, you may join her, Anna. I will write to Arthur Westbrook and enquire on your behalf.”

“Thank you, Father,” Anna quietly replied. Her ability to attend Kitty Moorland’s salon filled her with excitement, but the heaviness of her responsibility to find a husband was still difficult to bear.

Lord Montclair waved a hand toward his daughters to dismiss them, then returned to his chair as they disappeared into the hallway, where Captain Barrett had heard every word. 

“I am sorry my asking for Georgiana’s hand has become an inconvenience for you, Miss Montclair.”

Anna shook her head and took a deep breath. Despite agreeing with her father that he and Georgiana were seeking engagement too quickly, she had always liked James. He was a calming, stable presence in Georgiana’s life, and he clearly loved her.

“It is all right, Captain. We will make the best of it.” 

She turned to Georgiana and pulled her close for a hug. “Thank you for saving me from at least one of Father’s discouraging demands. I feel terrible that he has delayed your happiness because of me.”

Georgiana pulled away and held Anna by her shoulders. 

“Please listen to me. My happiness is standing right next to me, whether he becomes my husband yet or not.” She linked arms with James and smiled. “You need to trust that a man who offers such happiness for you is out there somewhere wishing you would finally find him, Anna. Perhaps he will be at Kitty Moorland’s salon!”

Anna rolled her eyes. “If there is a man at Kitty Moorland’s salon whom I can stand to speak with for more than a few moments, I promise to marry him just for you.”

Chapter Two

Anna Montclair, Lydia Westbrook, and Lydia’s older brother, Jack, stood in the Duchess of Keswick’s London home and gaped with awe at the largest personal library they had ever seen.

“I read in a gossip sheet that Kitty Moorland turned her ballroom into this impressive library. Look at all the seating in the center! She could fit all of Mayfair in here for tea and scones.” Lydia’s eyes slid with wonder from the many round tables and velvet lounge chairs to the rows of bookcases made of polished oak.

“And those chandeliers, my goodness. I’ve never seen a library with so much sparkle!” Anna clutched Lydia’s hand, and the two friends squealed with delight. 

“Please do not embarrass me tonight, ladies. I gave up tickets to the opera for this,” Jack Westbrook grumbled under his breath. 

“Oh, Jack. Do try to enjoy yourself for once, brother. Becoming a husband and a father has turned you into a codger. A boorish codger!”

Lydia elbowed her brother in the side, then pulled Anna further into the massive room where the guests of that night’s literary salon were drinking punch, browsing bookshelves, and flaunting their unique style. 

It was a black and white event, but Kitty Moorland’s crowd interpreted that dress code differently than the rest of the ton might. Although some attendees donned traditional formal attire, as Anna’s party did, a high percentage of the evening’s fashion featured unconventional embellishments and ornamentation.

One gentleman wore a dotted white waistcoat and vibrant peacock feathers attached to the brim of his black top hat. A woman with hair slicked back into a tight bun with hair grease wore a high-waisted white dress with black silk rose petals sewn around the hem. The fluttering petals rose up one side of her skirt as if blown by the wind.

“Are we still in Mayfair? I do not understand these fashions!” Anna said.

Though Anna would never wear such garish clothing, she secretly admired the freedom of it. To express oneself in such a unique way was how she approached writing her stories. It was blissfully freeing to see the characters born of her imagination come to life through her quill.

Anna and Lydia both wore simple white dresses with white ribbons in their hair. They’d felt quite fancy before they arrived at the salon but quickly realized how plain they looked compared to everyone else.

“I recognize some of these people.” Jack Westbrook, who wore a respectable black tailcoat and matching breeches, sneered with distaste. “Art patrons, street performers, and satirists, to name a few.” 

Lydia frowned at her brother. “How would you know any of these people unless you have socialized in their circles?”

Jack’s cheeks flushed crimson as he tugged his silk white cravat to loosen its grip around his neck. “That is not a topic suitable for young ladies, Lydia. I will find us some refreshment. Wait here.” 

Lydia rolled her eyes behind her brother’s head as Jack walked away. “I refuse to let our irritable chaperone ruin our evening, Anna. Shall we find our table?”

Before Anna could suggest they wait at the library entrance as Jack demanded, the Duchess of Keswick appeared in front of her. 

“Bonjour, mademoiselles! Welcome!” 

Kitty Moorland was tall and lithe with straight brown hair cropped just below her ears. She spoke French with an English accent and wore ivory men’s trousers below a billowy ruffled tunic the color of bright pink peonies.

Anna was wide-eyed with shock at her appearance and found it hard to speak. The Duchess of Keswick was well known in the London art and literary scenes as a strong advocate. She was also known among members of the peerage as an eccentric who, if the rumors were true, married the Duke of Keswick for his money to do with as she pleased. 

All Anna knew of Kitty Moorland was that she provided a safe space for creatives to come together and celebrate the work they admired. Why Anna was invited to such an event was still a mystery, since her passion for writing was a secret only her closest family members knew.

“This is an incredible library, Your Grace. Thank you for the invitation,” Anna finally managed to say to the duchess who’d been patiently waiting for her reply. “I am Anna Montclair, daughter of Lord Montclair. And this is my friend, Lydia Westbrook, daughter of Mr. Arthur Westbrook.” 

Anna and Lydia curtsied for the duchess, then rose to find Kitty Moorland’s eyes twinkling with delight.

“Ah, yes! Lord Montclair and Mr. Westbrook share agricultural investments with my husband. So, of course, their families are welcome guests to all of our events! It is a pleasure to meet you, ladies. Our guest speaker will begin his reading in a few moments. Please select a seat and enjoy some refreshment before we begin.”

Anna opened her mouth to thank her grace again, but the duchess had already moved on to greet more guests.

“Who is the guest speaker tonight?” Lydia asked as she and Anna selected a table with three chairs near the back. Most of the seating was already occupied by then, and Anna did not feel comfortable sitting up front where the duchess’s closest friends were likely gathered. 

“I do not know. My father read the invitation and did not share it with me,” Anna replied as Jack Westbrook arrived with glasses of punch and a small plate of macaroons on a silver tray.

As she took a sip of her drink and scanned the magnificent library again, a low, masculine voice from the table in front of them responded to Lydia’s question.

“A humorist named Bronson Little. He is reading from his latest book, A Daft Lady’s Descent.” 

Anna looked up and nearly dropped her glass. The man looking back at her had striking features, including deep brown eyes, a strong jaw, and wavy brown hair that she guessed always appeared slightly windswept despite his efforts to tame it. 

He was one of the more traditionally dressed gentlemen in attendance, as was the other man seated at his table. But something magnetic about him made all the other men in the room seem to disappear. It was as if he had a depth of understanding in his eyes that made no sense to Anna but drew her to him instantly. 

By the way he was gazing back at her with such intensity, she wondered if he felt it, too.

“Forgive my interruption.” The man stood and bowed respectfully. “I am Lucien Deverell, Earl of Highmore. And this is Felix Wyndham, Baron of Bampton.” 

Felix stood at the mention of his name and said hello as Anna shot up from her chair and awkwardly curtsied. Lydia and Jack stood at her side as she made the introductions for her table.

“This is our first time attending one of her grace’s salons, My Lord,” Anna offered with a shaky voice full of nerves that she did not understand. Why was she suddenly so nervous around a random stranger? She’d met handsome men before without feeling tongue-tied, including lords with higher ranks than this one.

But the lord in front of her now was breathtaking. The Earl of Highmore was tall and obviously muscular under his form-fitting black tailcoat, white brocade waistcoat, and white silk tunic. His face was smooth and slightly sun-kissed, as if he’d just come from a day at the shore.

“It is my first one, as well.” Lucien Deverell’s dark eyes lingered on Anna’s for a few seconds more until the Duchess of Keswick appeared on the stage at the back of the library and called for the room’s attention. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, let us begin!” 

Anna felt Lydia’s hand on her arm and suddenly remembered that she and the handsome earl weren’t the only two people in the room.

“I hope we all enjoy it,” she said softly as the Earl of Highmore smiled, then took his seat facing away from her. 

When Anna slid back down into the velvet chair with a dazed expression, she heard Lydia giggling at her side.

“Did you see something you liked, Miss Montclair?” Lydia whispered in Anna’s ear. 

“I do not have the slightest idea what you could mean,” Anna whispered back as her cheeks flushed with the heat of embarrassment. She silently chastised herself for having such a strong reaction to a man she did not know and likely never would. 

“Dear friends, it is an honor to introduce our guest of honor this evening–Mr. Bronson Little.” Kitty Moorland led the room in applause as a rotund middle-aged man with a shaved head, dressed in all black, took the stage. 

“Thank you, Your Grace. It is an honor to be here. This is a passage from my book, A Daft Lady’s Descent, whereupon the ridiculous wife of a nobleman disgraces her family by expecting more from life than she deserves.”

Anna’s spine stiffened, and her eyebrows knit together. That description made her skin crawl. Had she heard him correctly? 

As Bronson Little launched into a theatrical reading of his so-called humorous fictional tale, Anna instantly loathed every word of it. The nobleman’s wife he’d created was dim-witted and the target of every other character’s scorn for daring to dream of becoming a circus performer with lions and elephants in her act.

As the room around her filled with laughter, Anna seethed. Though the author had written the lady as a joke, what was wrong with a woman wanting a life outside of the box she’d been born into?

When the reading was finished, Kitty Moorland joined the author on stage again and encouraged her guests to ask questions and discuss Bronson Little’s work. 

One gentleman near the front of the room stood up and shouted, “I find it refreshing that you allow satirical work such as this in your home, Your Grace, even though the author ridicules titled women.”

Anna’s heart pounded loudly. She had never heard anyone speak to a duchess with such bold disregard for propriety.

But Kitty Moorland was not offended. She laughed and seemed to agree. 

“I applaud a world where differing opinions and artistic styles are allowed to be presented and discussed. And sometimes even enjoyed.” The duchess winked at the author, who bowed to her with a grin.

Perhaps it was because the high-ranking host had just granted them all permission to speak freely, or because she simply could not let the author’s distaste for women be the only voice that was heard, Anna shot out of her seat again and dared to speak. Before she lost her nerve, she shouted her own opinion up toward the stage.

“I believe any author who mocks a woman’s plight for his readers’ pleasure does not like women very much at all. Your story is not humorous, Mr. Little. It is a cautionary tale for any woman, lady or not, to avoid marriage if she wishes to be true to herself.”

The bold voice that left her body sounded like none she’d ever heard from her own mouth before. Anna instantly feared that she had said too much and would be banished from society by morning. But the response to her outburst was a surprising mix of cheers and boos that started a lively debate. 

Lydia was speechless and stared up at Anna with wide-eyed disbelief. Her brother, Jack, dropped his head into his hands as if to hide his identity next to a woman who would dare to speak her mind without thought of the consequences.

The Duchess of Keswick was applauding and grinning at Anna from across the room as Bronson Little scowled.

The Earl of Highmore turned in his chair and stared at Anna with a kind of smoldering shock that she had no idea how to interpret. But she did not care. If he was the type of man who appreciated stories like the one they just heard, she wanted nothing to do with him. Not that she expected to ever see him again, whether she had spoken up or not.

A few more people stood in agreement with Anna’s assessment, while others spoke in favor of humor for humor’s sake, no matter who might be offended by it.

Though she didn’t speak up again, Anna found the debate exhilarating. An hour or so later, the discussion ended, and the guests began milling about the library again. Several people approached Anna and thanked her for her input, but the Earl of Highmore and his baron friend had disappeared into the crowd.

“You amaze me, Anna! I could never have said what you did, but I am in awe,” Lydia exclaimed when she and Anna were browsing the bookshelves with Jack following them a few feet behind.

Anna winced and felt her cheeks grow rosy with unease again. “I should have contained my emotions! Now I worry what I said will spread further than this room, Lydia. I hope neither of our parents ever learn of it!”

Lydia wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “Do not worry. I swore Jack to secrecy, though he was easily convinced. He would rather leave England forever than reveal what a young woman said so boldly in public on his watch!”

Anna and Lydia laughed together, then peeked back at Jack, who was not amused and tried to ignore them.

“I will admit that I found it exciting, especially when that pompous writer glared at me for criticizing his work.” 

Lydia beamed with pride. 

“Nobody will forget you after tonight, Anna Montclair. Including that magnificent Earl of Highmore, who could not take his eyes off you.”

“Oh, please! I do not care if the Earl of Highmore ever lays eyes on me again.”

Anna chuckled to herself as Lydia tugged at her sleeve with sudden urgency. 

“I am sorry to hear that, Miss Montclair. For you have proven yourself quite difficult to look away from tonight, have you not?”

Anna gulped and froze in place. Though they’d only just met, she would already know the Earl of Highmore’s deep voice anywhere. 

She turned around to face him with a lump in her throat. Fortunately, he was smiling as he leaned against a bookcase with his arms folded across his broad chest.

“My Lord, I apologize. Lydia and I were teasing each other and meant no harm. I fear I am not yet accustomed to events like these where speaking one’s mind is not only acceptable but encouraged. Please forgive me.” 

Lucien Deverell shook his head. “No forgiveness is necessary, Miss Montclair. I am impressed by your response tonight and happen to agree with it.” 

Anna felt her tensed muscles begin to relax. She also sensed Lydia quietly moving to the other end of the bookcase to give her and the earl some privacy. 

“Is that so, My Lord? You did not express agreement after I criticized the guest of honor.”

What in the world am I saying to him? Have I lost all decorum on this night? Anna was shocked again by the words escaping her mouth and how boldly she was flirting with a man she did not know.

“You are right, I did not. I was too stunned to speak.” Lucien’s eyes sparkled above his roguish grin.

“Stunned in what way? Were you appalled that a woman would defend another, even if one of them was a character in a book?” Anna kept shocking herself by saying daring things to a nobleman who could easily have her blacklisted for the rest of the London season, if not the rest of her life.

“I was stunned because I find you stunning. I hope we meet again someday, Miss Montclair. Have a pleasant evening.”

The Earl of Highmore slowly bowed, then disappeared again among the people making their way out of the library to leave for the evening. Several heads turned as he passed, followed by the kind of whispers that spread when someone has been recently shunned by the ton.

Anna turned back to Lydia with a quizzical brow.

“Why are people gossiping about the Earl of Highmore?”

Lydia shrugged her shoulders. “I do not know. Perhaps because he is far too handsome to be real?” 

Anna giggled and released the breath she’d been holding since Lucien Deverell called her stunning. She was rather shaken by how standing near him made her feel so giddy with nerves.

“Perhaps a man like that cannot move through any room without causing a stir,” Anna meant for that comment to remain a thought in her head, but she had said it softly out loud, instead.

“I believe you are right. But you caused a stir this evening, as well! It is quite a night to remember, is it not?” Lydia beamed with glittery eyes full of amusement.

Anna nodded. “It is indeed. Can you keep a secret, Lydia? I hope to be a guest speaker at one of Kitty Moorland’s salons one day.”

Lydia smiled even brighter. “I believe that you will, my friend.”

On the carriage ride home, Anna relived the evening over and over again. She could not wait to get back to finishing her manuscript, but she also could not get Lucien Deverell out of her thoughts.

What was the earl like? Where did he come from? And why did she feel such a strong connection to him that was much more than mere attraction?

As the night sky sparkled with countless stars, Anna began to wonder if she might actually be marriage-minded after all. Then that notion made her shudder so strongly that she pushed it from her thoughts.

Anna told herself that she’d simply been swept up by the excitement of the evening, nothing more. She also silently vowed never to end up like the ridiculed lady in Bronson Little’s horrible story. The quickest way to a passionless life was to become a nobleman’s wife, she was certain of it.

Even if a dark-eyed nobleman instantly took her breath away.