The Naked King by Sally Mackenzie

Author:Sally Mackenzie [Mackenzie, Sally]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Fiction, General, Contemporary, Historical, Man-Woman Relationships, Love Stories, Regency fiction, Scandals, London (England) - Social Life and Customs - 19th Century
ISBN: 9781420102550
Publisher: Zebra
Published: 2011-06-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Anne’s stomach performed a pirouette. Thank God it was empty or she’d have decorated Mr. Parker-Roth’s handsome eveningwear with a mortifying display.

She’d forgotten for a moment—she couldn’t go back inside. Brentwood was in there. She pressed her hand to her lips and swallowed determinedly.

“Anne, what’s amiss?” Mr. Parker-Roth gripped her shoulders. He sounded most concerned.

When was the last time anyone had shown concern for her?

“Shall I call for the carriage? It will take but a moment. I’ll have you home in a trice.”

Yes, that was it. She would say she was ill. She was ill—very, very ill. She could go back to Crane House—

No, she couldn’t. People would notice and speculate ; the gossip would only get worse. And this was Evie’s come-out. If she left, Evie would insist on leaving, too. She couldn’t allow that. There were so many extremely eligible men in the ballroom.

“No.” She took a deep breath. She was a mature woman. She could do this. “I’m f-fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” One of his hands moved to her chin, but she stepped back, careful this time to raise her hem so she didn’t trip.

She knew he was frowning at her, but she wouldn’t look him in the face. She stared at his waistcoat instead as she tugged on her glove, covering up his betrothal ring.

“Something is the matter, Anne. What is it? Why did you drag me into the garden?”

She couldn’t tell him about Brentwood. She’d never told anyone that story. “It’s nothing. I apologize. I was overcome by the crowds and the heat.”

She could feel his eyes boring into the top of her head.

“Anne, I’m not a fool. Tell me what is bothering you.”

He was not going to let her escape without an answer, but what could she say? Not the truth. Her thoughts darted like dragonflies, unable to light on a plausible reason for her dash into the darkness. If only he would leave her be. It was rude of him to press her so, but then she was rapidly coming to realize he was not one to let something as inconsequential as polite manners stand in his way when he wanted something.

“Anne.”

He was losing patience, though what could he do if she refused to answer? He couldn’t choke the truth out of her.

She didn’t care to find out to exactly what lengths he’d go to satisfy his curiosity. There had to be . . . ah, of course. “If you must know, I found it extremely unsettling to be glared at by so many women.”

There was a telling pause. Excellent. She’d got under his guard and scored a flush hit. She found the courage to look up. He was frowning.

“Glared at?” He cleared his throat. “Don’t you mean stared at? Our betrothal was a bit of a bolt from the blue, after all. People are naturally curious.”

“Perhaps the men are curious; the women are angry. They believe the King of Hearts has been stolen from under their noses by Crazy Crane’s bluestocking daughter.

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