He was beginning to get annoyed. But then, his siblings, as much as he loved them, tended to inspire that emotion in him. “I was always going to marry eventually, Caroline.”
The corners of her mouth hitched upward. “I was not referring to whether or not you would marry—but to whom, and why.”
Before he could ask what the devil she meant by that, she stepped into the corridor and shut the door very softly behind her.
Chapter 24
Annabelle gave up attempting to sleep after an hour of tossing and turning, fretting and stewing, all interspersed with slipping,nearly,into sleep to find herself immersed in a nightmare from which she dragged herself awake to lie there, panting as if she’d just taken the stairs at a dead run.
It was misery incarnate. Stomach burning with fatigue and nerves, she threw off her bedcovers, stumbled to the window to fold back the shutters, and called for Babette to help her dress.
The maid arrived moments later bearing a welcome tea tray. The knowing twinkle in her eyes left Annabelle under no doubt as to whether she’d been among the servants Caroline claimed were actively listening to her conversation with Lord Randall this morning.
Really. Eavesdropping on the master of the house and his guest. Babette should really be schooled in more seemly behavior.
Annabelle hated to dim the girl’s ebullient spirits, however. Besides, considering how inappropriate their actions had been…She would not take responsibility for him carrying her to his private chambers. Still, perhaps she should have donned something more than her night clothes before confronting him on the stairs, in her bare feet, no less—she decided against broaching the matter.
“Babette, do you happen to know the viscount’s sister, Lady Caroline?”
Babette’s hands, occupied with pinning Annabelle’s coiffure, stilled. She met her eyes in the vanity mirror. “Yes, milady. Lady Caroline is a fine lady. She lives in London. In a large manse in Mayfair.”
Annabelle frowned at Babette’s sudden, rapid-fire speech.
She shifted on her cushioned stool to face the maid. “Babette, whatever impression you’ve gained, Lady Caroline has a gentle and kind disposition. She will not hurt you.”
Babette shook her head. “Please don’t send me back to London. I want to stay here, with you.”
“Well, of course, you must stay with me,” Annabelle stated before pausing to consider. In truth, though she had come to see Babette as her own personal maid, Babette was not in her employ.
One glance at Babette’s hope-filled expression, however, and her mind was made up. She sent her an encouraging smile and shifted around on the seat. “I will have a word with Lord Randall and ask him if it isn’t possible for me to hire you. Would you like that?”
Babette nodded, relief washing over her features. She resumed combing and pinning Annabelle’s hair.
“Now that’s settled, I only asked about Lady Caroline because she arrived this morning and will be…” She broke off, uncertain how to finish her sentence. Would she be escorting Annabelle home to London, or witnessing her wedding ceremony in one day’s time?
***
A short while later, she entered the dining hall, surprised to find Lady Caroline already present.
She was seated at the table in a chair adjacent to the one which Sterling normally took, and across from Annabelle’s customary place. Her eyes were closed, and she cradled a delicate-looking porcelain teacup in her hands. A matching teapot was set before her.
Lord Randall was not present.
She drew a bracing breath. “Good morning.”
Caroline opened her eyes and smiled at her. “You couldn’t sleep either?”
Annabelle sat and reached for the coffee urn to pour herself a cup, then added a large dollop of cream. “I had too much on my mind,” she admitted.
“I can understand that. I gather Sterling plans for the two of you to wed tomorrow.”
In the process of drawing her cup to her lips, her hand trembled so violently, she splashed several dark drops on the white cloth covering the table. “Oh, dear. Not sure how that happened.”
Caroline blotted the spill with her own serviette. “No harm done.”
Annabelle knew better than to show a lack of confidence. She’d been raised to carry herself with absolute aplomb. To care not a whit for the opinion of others. Nevertheless, words tumbled from her lips. “You must think me awful, Lady Caroline. You must believe I set out deliberately to entrap Lord Randall.” She pressed her lips together when her chin began to wobble.
What was the matter with her? Her mother would be aghast.
