An Invitation to Sin by Jo Beverley, Sally Mackenzie, Kaitlin O'Riley, Vanessa Kelly Page A
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Delabury’s death, however, and Anna returned the book to the library and read Mrs. Jamison’s other five novels. The rereading confirmed that she enjoyed them more, and it puzzled her.
The heroine was always the same—a variety, Anna supposed, of Lady Delabury herself, or Miss Skelton as she had been before her marriage. The heroes, however, were varied. Anna thought them a rather unrealistic lot. She had never known men to be so inclined to protest their extreme unworthiness to even touch a lady’s hand, or to weep with grief at having dared to steal a kiss.
All this did rather incline Anna to remember a gentleman who would never weep over that stolen kiss, and would never for a moment imagine himself unworthy. She touched her own lips, remembering another touch, and was alarmingly aware that it would not take much for her to say to the Earl of Carne, “Kiss me again, please.”
Lady Featherstone was not always right. Sometimes young ladies did plot their own downfall.
Perhaps it was just that the constant avoidance of the earl was so wearing, or perhaps it was a secret wish for ruin. One day, when Anna returned home and encountered the earl leaving his house, as close to face-to-face as two people twelve feet away could be, she did not duck her head and scurry. Instead, she stared at him, chin up, daring him to summon the constables.
He was startled, then a slight smile moved his lips before, with the slightest nod of acknowledgment, he went on his way.
Anna went into the house in a daze of horror and relief.
He knew!
It was as if he’d spoken to her and told her that he knew, and had known all along.
She was horrified that anyone knew what Anna Feather-stone had done. At the same time there was tremendous relief. Clearly he was not going to call in the law, was not even going to inform her parents. And she didn’t think the composed gentleman she had encountered today was going to lie in wait to have his wicked way with her.
She was just the tiniest bit disappointed about that.
By the time Anna had her bonnet and spencer off, reaction had set in, threatening tears. The great drama of her life had proved to be as substantial as a … a soap bubble! Rather than spending the past weeks searching for a mysterious, dangerous intruder, the Earl of Carne had known all along that it had been a mere schoolgirl neighbor, and had been amused.
It was intensely mortifying.
Anna would have liked to flee to the country or fall into a convenient fatal decline, but this being reality rather than a novel, she had to go on with life and try to put the whole matter out of her mind.
When she began to pay attention to events around her, she found that the wicked earl was being received everywhere. No one seemed to care anymore about the incident, and Lady Delabury’s death was being politely ignored.
Maria was a great success, and though she had not made her choice, it was likely that she would accept an offer within weeks. Mr. Liddell was still a constant attendant, but his chances of success seemed slim. Now that Lord Carne was back, his heir had no prospects beyond a small estate and a government post.
Anna returned to spending her time as originally planned, visiting historic places and educational exhibitions. In fact, she should perhaps have acted this way all along, for she never encountered the earl in these activities.
Then he began to show a marked interest in Maria, causing a great fluttering in the Featherstone nest.
“I have grave reservations,” said Lady Featherstone at luncheon one day. “For all that the earl behaves quite properly, I cannot forget his past.”
“Time heals,” said Sir Jeffrey. “Morals as well as hearts. Since there is no evidence of anything but wildness in his past, I think Lord Carne should be judged on his present behavior. What do you feel, Maria?”
Maria raised a hand to her head as if dizzy. “I must be sensible of the honor, Papa. But I am not sure I can forget his
The heroine was always the same—a variety, Anna supposed, of Lady Delabury herself, or Miss Skelton as she had been before her marriage. The heroes, however, were varied. Anna thought them a rather unrealistic lot. She had never known men to be so inclined to protest their extreme unworthiness to even touch a lady’s hand, or to weep with grief at having dared to steal a kiss.
All this did rather incline Anna to remember a gentleman who would never weep over that stolen kiss, and would never for a moment imagine himself unworthy. She touched her own lips, remembering another touch, and was alarmingly aware that it would not take much for her to say to the Earl of Carne, “Kiss me again, please.”
Lady Featherstone was not always right. Sometimes young ladies did plot their own downfall.
Perhaps it was just that the constant avoidance of the earl was so wearing, or perhaps it was a secret wish for ruin. One day, when Anna returned home and encountered the earl leaving his house, as close to face-to-face as two people twelve feet away could be, she did not duck her head and scurry. Instead, she stared at him, chin up, daring him to summon the constables.
He was startled, then a slight smile moved his lips before, with the slightest nod of acknowledgment, he went on his way.
Anna went into the house in a daze of horror and relief.
He knew!
It was as if he’d spoken to her and told her that he knew, and had known all along.
She was horrified that anyone knew what Anna Feather-stone had done. At the same time there was tremendous relief. Clearly he was not going to call in the law, was not even going to inform her parents. And she didn’t think the composed gentleman she had encountered today was going to lie in wait to have his wicked way with her.
She was just the tiniest bit disappointed about that.
By the time Anna had her bonnet and spencer off, reaction had set in, threatening tears. The great drama of her life had proved to be as substantial as a … a soap bubble! Rather than spending the past weeks searching for a mysterious, dangerous intruder, the Earl of Carne had known all along that it had been a mere schoolgirl neighbor, and had been amused.
It was intensely mortifying.
Anna would have liked to flee to the country or fall into a convenient fatal decline, but this being reality rather than a novel, she had to go on with life and try to put the whole matter out of her mind.
When she began to pay attention to events around her, she found that the wicked earl was being received everywhere. No one seemed to care anymore about the incident, and Lady Delabury’s death was being politely ignored.
Maria was a great success, and though she had not made her choice, it was likely that she would accept an offer within weeks. Mr. Liddell was still a constant attendant, but his chances of success seemed slim. Now that Lord Carne was back, his heir had no prospects beyond a small estate and a government post.
Anna returned to spending her time as originally planned, visiting historic places and educational exhibitions. In fact, she should perhaps have acted this way all along, for she never encountered the earl in these activities.
Then he began to show a marked interest in Maria, causing a great fluttering in the Featherstone nest.
“I have grave reservations,” said Lady Featherstone at luncheon one day. “For all that the earl behaves quite properly, I cannot forget his past.”
“Time heals,” said Sir Jeffrey. “Morals as well as hearts. Since there is no evidence of anything but wildness in his past, I think Lord Carne should be judged on his present behavior. What do you feel, Maria?”
Maria raised a hand to her head as if dizzy. “I must be sensible of the honor, Papa. But I am not sure I can forget his
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