Fetch the Earl by Ebony Oaten

Author:Ebony Oaten
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ebony Rees

Chapter 6

The next day, Anne paced back and forth in her guest room. From her window, she could see the edge of the stables, where the coachmen were sheltered along with their horses. Try as she might, it was impossible to see who was coming and going. But there were people heading out to something that required horses, judging by the sound of wheels rolling on the flagstones and general noise coming from that direction.

Were people attending a picnic? In which case, why was she not attending along with the rest of the house party? The daughter of an Earl, left behind while others took up entertainment. What should she do in such a situation? Mama did not know what make of it either, so they’s sent their maid to discover gossip and report back.

The maid returned, bobbed a quick curtsey and said, “Earl Dabney requests an audience in the Yellow Room.”

Mama beamed, “What time?”

The maid replied, “At your earliest convenience. He is heading back to London immediately after your audience.”

“What?” Anne and Mama both said at once.

The maid bobbed again and said, “I have no further information than that, My Ladies.”

In a flurry of panic and excitement, Anne grabbed her shawl and followed the maid to the Yellow Room. Mama trotted a few paces behind.

In the Yellow Room, they found Dabney standing by the low fire which gave little heat. The moment she entered the room, he made a modest bow to acknowledge her and her mother.

“My Lord, I believe you sent for me?” Anne painted on a smile, wondering what might happen next. Was he in a rush for London so he could post the banns? Or ... oh goodness, perhaps he wanted to get a special license? That would be grand!

“My Lady,” he indicated the Countess, then he turned to Anne, “Miss Sloane.”

Wait, that wasn’t how people had addressed her since the inheritance. Everyone had called her ‘My Lady’ and sometimes ‘Lady Anne’ . Nobody had mentioned Sloane ever again, as if it no longer belonged to them. It sat badly, like an old pelise that had become too tight across the shoulders.

“I am leaving for London immediately,” he said.

Anne nodded as if she understood, although she didn’t, and automatically said, “Shall I ring for tea?”

“Oh goodness no, there’s no need.” He said with a soft laugh.

“Are you returning to the house party after your business is concluded in London?”

He made a face as if she were simple. It cut to her marrow.

He wrung his hands together. “Good grief, you’re not making this easy on a chap, are you? I said I’m leaving for London. Immediately.”

Utterly perplexed, Anne had no notion of what he wanted. Should she offer to go with him, is that what he was angling for? She managed, “Then I shall wish you a safe journey,” in the hope he would indicate more formally what he wanted.

“Dratted shame all round, really,” he said, reaching for his gloves.

“Would you like me to write?” Anne offered.

“Write? Whatever for?” He nodded and made for the door.

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