He rubbed the scruff on his jaw, reading every feature of my face. His voice dropped, deep and quiet. “If you are lying to me again, my lady, I will go to Lord Kirkham right now and tell him you have been longing for another kiss.”
I gasped under my breath. “You wouldn’t.”
“I think you underestimate me.”
I crossed my arms, no longer hungry. My stomach twisted with nerves. Did Alexander even know about my closeness to Miles and our previous attachment? The two brothers didn’t seem to be on good terms. I doubted they communicated about matters of the heart. What was the harm of Alexander knowing that we had once been neighbors? It was harmless, and it might even ease the contention between us.
I took a deep breath. “Very well.” I looked him straight in the eye. “I recognized your name. I have known your family my entire life, though you and I have remained near strangers until now.” I lifted my chin. “You would have known me as Anne Dixon.”
CHAPTER 5
ALEXANDER
Anne Dixon?
The familiarity of her features was vague, but it grew clearer as the seconds passed. She must have been fifteen the last time I had seen her. She and Miles had shared a close friendship that troubled my parents, though he could do little wrong in their eyes.
Lady Daventry—Anne—stared at my face, as if searching for a reaction. I was frozen, held captive by this new realization.
Miles had spoken of Anne before he left for the London season. I remembered that winter well, and the mess he had left behind. The details about Anne were muddled in my head. Miles had continued to maintain little direction for his profession, so his intentions for the Season were to find and woo an heiress. It was clear he had feelings for Anne, and was weighing the possibility of marrying her instead. Our parents had discouraged it, but he had gone to London with an open mind. It was after his departure that his true nature had surfaced, and I had suffered greatly for it.
Anne was a widow, so she had obviously married someone else. Did Miles know she had been widowed? At that very moment, he was on a ship bound for England. I was here in London to confront him upon his return. Was Anne here to do the same? Her intentions were likely not as hostile as mine. She couldn’t possibly…still have feelings for him?
I wiped my mouth with my serviette. “I remember how often my brother spoke of you.”
Her eyes rounded. “You remember me? He…spoke of me often?”
I nodded.
Her gaze dropped to her plate, and she seemed to struggle to gather her thoughts. Her rosy lips parted, but no words came out.
“Is his return from India what brings you to London?” My question seemed to further aggravate her. “Have you still been writing to him?”
She looked up. “Yes.”
I leaned back in my chair, too astonished to sit straight. How had Miles managed to wooher? She was…beautiful. Regal. Her emotions were obviously guarded. Perhaps they hadn’t always been that way. I crossed my arms. Hot frustration tingled under my skin. Why did a woman like Lady Daventry, the widow of a baron, think Miles was worth waiting for? Had he promised her money? Had he manipulated her like he had so many others? I couldn’t imagine why any woman would want to marry my brother, but that was only because I knew better than anyone what he was capable of.
I bit the inside of my cheek, debating the best way to proceed. Anne was obviously uncomfortable. I glanced at her downcast expression as she stared at her plate in silence. It was a weakness of mine to ask too many questions, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Are you in love with him?”
Her features hardened. “That is none of your concern.”
“You are.” I scoffed in disbelief, running my hand over my hair. “You really think you’re in love with Miles?”
A blaze of anger crossed her face. “I don’t ‘think’ I’m in love with him. I am. Why is that so appalling?”
I leaned toward her. Our whispered conversation couldn’t last much longer. Mr. Hatcher seemed to have noticed the tension, and I could practically see his ears perking up to eavesdrop. “He isn’t the man you think he is. I can promise you that.”
She cast her gaze heavenward, shaking her head. “Do you truly expect me to believe you? Miles told me all about your antics at home, and the gambling debts, and the general…mischief you caused.”
“General mischief?” I laughed, but my insides boiled. Miles had blamed everything on me his entire life. It was his greatest talent—making others appear worse to elevate his own character, stealing trust with charm rather than earning it with his actions. I took a drink of water to cool the anger simmering inside me. “I would love to hear what else Miles has said about me. It seems you are credulous enough to believe every word out of his mouth.”
She glared at me. “His ill words about you are growing more plausible by the minute.”
“You may think of me however you please.”
She stabbed at a piece of ham on her plate. “Perhaps I shall not think of you at all.”
