Nicola Cornick - The Chaperon Bride

‘I will go,’ Sibella said resignedly, struggling up again. ‘Come, David, you may escort me down and content yourself with the thought that you are doing Annis a splendid favour. You might as well come too, Charles, in case we need the extra authority!’

Once left on her own, Annis sat back and closed her eyes. She let the hum of the crowd wash over her. Normally she enjoyed the theatre, but tonight there were too many other things going on. She had the feeling that if she gave Fanny an inch, the little hoyden would take a mile.

She opened her eyes abruptly, feeling a prickle of awareness, a sudden conviction that someone was watching her. The crowd in the theatre was dissipating a little now and Annis caught a glimpse of Charles, talking to someone behind one of the tall ornamental pilasters. His companion moved slightly, and Annis saw that it was Della Tilney, Adam Ashwick’s sister, a vivacious, dark-haired beauty who always looked supremely elegant. Annis frowned slightly. It seemed curious that Charles and Lady Tilney should be on such good terms when he worked for Ingram and she was the widow of the man Ingram had ruined…

A second later she forgot all about Della Tilney when she realised that Adam Ashwick was looking directly at her. He was leaning against a nearby pillar and he did not look away as she caught his gaze. Annis saw him incline his head slightly to acknowledge her then start moving towards her, cutting a path through the crowd with an easy authority. He did not take his eyes off her the whole time.

Annis felt a little flustered. She did not understand why Adam Ashwick should have this effect on her and it only made her more disturbed that he should do so. She fidgeted with her fan, smoothed her skirt and looked away in an attempt to calm herself, hoping that Lord Ashwick might in fact have some other destination in mind. Sibella and David had joined Fanny and Lieutenant Greaves now, breaking up their cosy tête-à-tête whilst leaving Lucy and Barnaby Norwood together. Annis smiled her appreciation at Sibella’s tactics.

‘And serve you right, you little minx!’ she said aloud.

‘Good evening, Lady Wycherley.’ Adam Ashwick’s voice came from behind her, smooth and betraying a hint of amusement. Annis jumped and spun around in her chair. So he had been intending to seek her out. The thought made her go quite hot all over.

‘Lord Ashwick. How do you do?’ She forced a polite smile. ‘I do apologise. I was not…I did not…I was not addressing you.’

‘I guessed as much.’ There was a glimmer of a smile in Adam Ashwick’s eyes. He gestured to the chair beside her. ‘May I?’

‘Oh, of course!’

Annis had assumed that he would not be staying and now felt surprise and another emotion she could not quite place. She did not look to be distinguished by Adam Ashwick’s attention and to be so set her a little on edge. It was something to do with the speculative interest she saw in his eyes, an interest he made no effort to hide. When they had met at the inn she had felt a curious tug of affinity with him and it was the last thing that she had expected or wanted. She was accustomed to living without male companionship and after an unhappy early marriage had no intention of changing that state. Yet it was disconcerting that, for all her seven-and-twenty years and her relative experience, there was a man who could disturb her equilibrium.

‘I hope that you are enjoying your return to Harrogate, Lady Wycherley,’ Adam said lazily. ‘I understand that it is several years since you were here?’

‘Indeed it is, my lord.’ Annis smiled. ‘I shall always think of this as my home even though I have spent so much time away. It is pleasant to be back here. Do you find it so?’

Adam smiled back. ‘I find Harrogate enjoyable enough for a short space of time.’

Although they were talking quite conventionally, Annis was acutely aware that Adam was watching her intently. It was as though he was making the first moves in a game—a game he showed all the signs of pursuing. Annis caught her breath at the thought.

She raised her brows coolly, determined that his appraisal should not discomfort her. ‘You do not appreciate the Yorkshire countryside, my lord?’

‘Oh, the countryside is extremely beautiful. It is the society of a small town that I find somewhat restrictive. The same company, the same balls and parties night after night…’

‘Rather like London during the Season, in fact,’ Annis said, with just a hint of asperity in her tone.

Adam laughed aloud. ‘You put me neatly in my place, ma’am! Yes, I suppose the Season in London does bear a striking resemblance to the Season anywhere else, be it Brighton or Harrogate. It is simply on a grander scale—and I have my own friends and entertainments.’

‘So I hear!’ Annis said sweetly. She saw that he was not offended by her directness; on the contrary, the laughter lines deepened about his eyes and there was amusement in their grey depths. She imagined that it would be very difficult to discommode Adam Ashwick. He had far too much experience.

Annis shifted slightly in her seat, wishing that she did not feel quite so hot. It was a humid night and, with the candles, the heat was almost overpowering. Then there was her purple turban, which was making her head itch and ache. First the black bombazine and now the dowager purple, Annis thought ruefully. It was a very long time since she had wanted a man to see her in anything other than her drab chaperon’s clothes. Now though, Adam Ashwick’s cool grey gaze was fixed appraisingly on her face and Annis was vain enough to wish that she were appearing to slightly better advantage. It was a novel experience for her to want a man to admire her and it was contrary to every sensible precept that governed her actions.

‘You are often in London, are you not, ma’am?’ he asked. ‘How comes it that we have never met there before?’

Annis gave him a very straight look. ‘It is hardly surprising that we have not met, my lord. I believe that you do not attend débutante balls and I never attend events of any other sort.’

‘Then that is one advantage that a small town confers,’ Adam observed. ‘Here we may all meet and mingle together. A decided benefit, Lady Wycherley, for otherwise I might never have met you.’

Annis laughed, refusing to be flattered. ‘You are very apt with your compliments, my lord.’

The smile deepened in Adam’s eyes. ‘Do you imply that I am not sincere? I assure you that you are quite mistaken.’

Annis flicked him a look. His whole attention was focussed on her in a manner that was decidedly disconcerting. She looked away.

‘Oh, men offer compliments when it suits their purpose! I could not have worked as a chaperon for so many years without realising that fact, my lord.’

Adam grimaced. ‘You are a cynic, ma’am, as no doubt a chaperon should be. I expect it helps you sort the genuine suitors from the rakes when you are trying to make a match for your charges.’ He leaned back in his chair and fixed her with a challenging look. ‘Let us test your assertion. What is my purpose tonight?’

Annis frowned a little. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You said that men offer compliments when it suits their purpose. So what was my purpose in complimenting you?’

Annis looked away, vexed to realise that she was blushing. She had the feeling that she was straying towards dangerous ground here and was not going to be lured into offering a view. She gave Adam a reluctant smile.

‘As to that, I have no notion.’

Adam shifted slightly. ‘I think that you do. You suspect that I want something and am therefore making myself agreeable.’

Annis laughed. ‘I apologise. I was judging on past experience, my lord. Most gentlemen try to charm the chaperon if they are interested in her charges. Perhaps you are looking to marry and are wanting an introduction to the Misses Crossley, Lord Ashwick?’