As her host, I’d stay nearby, watching, keeping guard. I noted Mr. Anderson, who was standing a little too close to Ginny on the other side of the room.
“Graham?” Mother’s hand touched my arm. “May I introduce Mrs. Hughes and her daughter Miss Harriet Hughes. They are staying in Brighton for the month.”
A slender woman with a pretty face and three, large blue feathers in her light hair curtseyed with a practiced smile.
I bowed. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Hughes. From where do you hail?”
“Hampshire. A far cry from a place as magical as Brighton.” Again, she smiled. Her voice was soft and breathy.
I nodded. All too well, I knew the motions. I held out my hand. “Would you care to dance?”
My mother grinned. Mrs. Hughes practically purred like a cat spotting a dish of cream.
“I’d love to,” Miss Hughes said.
And so the night went. Dance after dance. Anna being offered another drink from Cross, then taking the hand of a man he’d introduced her to. I’d found Ginny just outside the door with a group watching a man stuff a handful of olives into his mouth. I promptly extricated her from the scene.
Until finally, at just after two in the morning, we all moaned with relief as the carriage creaked to a stop outside Highcliffe House.
I’d never felt happier to be home, safe and away from prying eyes and unknown intentions. This was why mothers were in charge of marrying off their daughters. Were it up to me, the women in my household would remain young and unattached forever.
“Perhaps next time Mr. Anderson will kiss my hand,” Ginny sighed, leaning into Anna’s side as they walked into the house.
“There will be no kissing of hands,” I muttered.
At that, they laughed.
ChapterTwenty-One
Anna
A piercing wail jolted me awake.
Slowly, I found my bearings, tangled as I was in my covers with feet still half numb from dancing. I fumbled to light the candle on my bedside table. Another wail sounded, quieter this time, but loud. It sounded like a nightmare. Tabs?
A door opened from down the hall, followed by quiet whisperings, then another door closed.
“I’m frightened,” called her little voice. “Please, help me!”
Without thought, I ripped off my covers, my bare feet aching and sore, and hurried to don my dressing gown. With candle in hand, I swung open my door. “Tabs?” I called, my foggy mind still trying to fully wake up. Her room was two down from mine. I took a few steps through the dimly lit space in front of me.
“Anna?”
Tabs was sitting up in her bed, a candle burning beside her on the little table by her bed. Her hair was a mess, like she’d tossed and turned all night while we were away, and her little pout and tear-stained cheeks nearly tore my heart to shreds. I stepped through her doorway, stopping suddenly when I noticed a figure kneeling by her bedside.
Graham. In a banyan and breeches and bare feet.
“Forgive me,” I said, stepping back. I did not wish to intrude where I had no right to be. “I thought—”
“Don’t go,” Tabs whimpered. “Please, Anna.”
“It’s the middle of the night, Tabs.” Graham’s voice was hoarse from sleep, and my heart leaped forward, wanting to be near him. His hair was still ruffled, cheeks creased and eyes puffy.
Beautiful, he’d called me during our waltz. And he’d said it with such conviction. Not to please, but to admire. My skin prickled, remembering his hand at my waist. Such tenderness in his eyes like I’d never seen from a man before. Those same eyes that had arrogantly teased and frustrated me over and over again were now warm and full of care.
“He came for me again.” Tabs sniffed. “The dark monster of the sea.”
“There is no dark monster of the sea,” Graham said as he rubbed her leg. “You’ve nothing to fear.”
