Page 38 of Her Royal Houseguest

‘I thought he can’t talk to women.’

Awkward, awkward! ‘You’ll have to speak through a footman. It’s annoying but—’

‘You think it will increase my consequence among the ton.’

Anna winced. ‘I didn’t say that.’

‘You don’t have to.’

Phoebe was a cit. And not just a cit, but a woman who did not hide her intellect. Her healthy dowry and a couple good friends had helped launch her, but that was two Seasons ago. As was the case with Anna, no man had offered marriage to Phoebe. And now her invitations were slipping away. Fewer invites meant fewer chances to attract a good husband.

But if it were known she had walked Hyde Park, for example, with the newest Oriental sensation, then the invitations would flood in. At least for a bit.

Fortunately, Phoebe understood this was meant as a kindness, so she squeezed Anna’s hands in thanks. ‘I’ll go happily but we must talk tomorrow so I can hear all about Lord Patrick.’

‘He’s here for the same reason as everyone else. To find out about the Siamese.’

‘I don’t think so.’ This last part was said in a sing-song voice as Lord Patrick finally entered the house. His warm brown gaze caught her immediately and his expression lifted to one of delight.

Anna smiled back. Of course, she did. He was a handsome man who appeared genuinely happy to see her. But if she hoped for a telltale flutter of her heart, it was sadly missing. Perhaps it was too early. She just needed to further their acquaintance.

‘Lady Anna,’ he said as soon as he handed off his hat. ‘You look radiant.’

‘You flatter me, my lord,’ she answered politely.

‘And Miss Gray,’ he added, turning to greet Phoebe. ‘Are you just arriving or departing?’

‘Departing, I’m afraid. There’s too much of a crush in there for me to stay.’

‘A pity,’ he said without heat, before turning back to Anna. ‘At least I shall have the pleasure of your company.’

Why, oh why couldn’t she warm to his direct attention?

‘You most assuredly will,’ Anna answered. ‘But first, Phoebe, I’m afraid I left that package for you below stairs. Clarke has it. Just tell him what I told you.’

Phoebe gave her friend a warm hug. ‘Don’t worry,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll take him out the back for a quiet stroll.’

‘You’re a dear,’ Anna answered. Then she left Phoebe to manage on her own as she turned her attention to Lord Patrick and her mother’s salon.

In the end, his visit was…

Boring.

Tea was boring.

Life was boring.

All the way through to the evening’s ball.

Chapter Twelve

The business of nations was tedious. Prince Deva had met so many English gentlemen, he’d never keep them straight. What he most remembered was their friendliness over greedy eyes. In this, they were no different than the men of Siam who manoeuvred constantly to gain advantage.

He had played this game since birth and it should occupy his whole focus. Yet, his thoughts kept returning to Lady Anna.

Why was she so alone? She was high-born and wealthy, yet she remained unmarried. Why hadn’t her father made an advantageous alliance for her? What terrible malady did she carry that no one saw her worth except him?

He could not ask such questions bluntly, nor could he find any way to come sideways at the problem. All of which was Buddha’s way of reminding him that women were a distraction and the fastest way to step onto the Wheel of Suffering. She was not his problem. The trade agreement was. So he tried to remember one greedy Englishman after another until his head was pounding from the strain.