He heaved a sigh. “Then I suppose we need to visit your mother.”
* * *
Annabelle had not visited her parents’ London house many times that Season. Theo had offered to sponsor her, now she was a duchess, and Annabelle had been only too relieved to escape the escalating tension in her parents’ home. Her father hadn’t stopped his gambling habits, even with the debts pouring in, and only Nathanial’s generosity kept them afloat. It was safer, and made more sense, for Annabelle to leave.
As a result, she had a peculiar feeling of foreboding as she followed Theo into the house. Everything was just as she remembered it, although some of the paintings and ornaments had gone; sold, probably, to pay for their household bills.
“Theo,” their mother said from the drawing room where she had been writing a letter. “Annabelle. And oh, Nathanial. What an unexpected surprise. I was going to call on you later.” She dropped a butterfly-light kiss on Theo and Annabelle’s cheeks. “Don’t you both look lovely. I was just writing a letter to your Aunt Theresa, girls, if you remember her, to update her on this Season’s happenings.”
“Mama,” Theo said carefully. “Have you read the papers today?”
“Read the papers?” Their mother shuddered. “Why should I do that? If there’s anything important there, I’m sure your father will see.”
Theo and Annabelle exchanged a look. If her motherwasplaying innocent, she was doing so extremely well.
Annabelle had the overwhelming temptation to throw her head back and scream at the ceiling. It would achieve nothing but perhaps it would ease the overwhelming knot in her chest.
Engaged.
The word stuck in her brain, tripping up every other sentence. And to Lord Sunderland. Jacob Barrington. The Devil of St James. A man who gambled fortunes away at the card table and picked fights wherever he could. Reckless and rash and almost always, in her limited experience, at least a little drunk. Of all the men in London she could have been engaged to, it had to be him.
“There’s been a development,” Theo said. “About Annabelle. It was in the papers today.”
“About Annabelle.” Her mother looked up again, eyes sharp and slightly wary. “How so?”
“There was a notice announcing Annabelle’s engagement to the Marquess of Sunderland,” Nathanial said smoothly. “Written as though her parents had been the ones to insert it.”
“The Marquess of Sunderland?” her mother clarified, a line appearing between her brows. “But he hasn’t even been courting you. Has he, my dear?”
Annabelle gritted her teeth. “He has not. And—” She bit back the words before she could tell everyone he had told her he had no wish to be married.
“Well I certainly made no announcement,” her mother said, looking at them both. “And neither did your father. He has probably forgotten he has one daughter yet unmarried,” she added with a trace of bitterness.
“As I thought.” Nathanial’s voice was a little grim.
Annabelle rubbed her eyes wearily.“But if you didn’t, then who did?”
“An excellent question.” Theo threw herself down on the sofa and tugged her gloves off. “And one I desire the answer to immediately.”
“I’ll make enquiries,” Nathanial said.
“As shall I.” Theo chewed her bottom lip. “We’re supposed to be attending Lady Windermere’s dinner in Vauxhall tonight. The perfect place to find out any gossip. Do you think someone has done it as a prank, Anna?”
“A prank?” Annabelle tried to think past the roaring in her ears. “Why would someone do this forfun?”
“I agree,” Nathanial said. “It’s unlikely anyone would do this as a joke, and if they did, it’s in extremely poor taste. Not to mention risky once word gets out of who was behind it.” His expression left Annabelle under no illusions as to what measures he would take. “I suspect whoever was behind this had something to gain.”
“Like what?” Theo tossed her hands in the air. “Who could possibly have anything to gain from unifying the biggest rake in London to my sister?”
Nathanial sent Annabelle a long look that made her stomach curl in dread. “A dowry, perhaps? Or a union with the sister of a duchess?”
The Marquess had told her he had no wish of being found with her, implied he had no desire to be married, but perhaps he had lied. And if her mother was not responsible, there could be no other explanation.
“Lord Sunderland,” she said.
Nathanial gave a grim nod. “Lord Sunderland.”
* * *
