Secrets of a Runaway Bride by Valerie Bowman Page B

good evening, Lord Ashbourne,” Arthur said. “Thank you very— Good evening!” Arthur nodded toward Jordan, nodded toward Annie, and without meeting their eyes, dashed past both of them back toward the house like a hare scared by a hound.
    Laughing softly, Jordan stepped into the moonlit nook.
    Annie crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course you would have to pick that precise moment to insert yourself into my affairs again. Proud of yourself?”
    “Immensely,” Jordan answered with a nod.
    “You are a detestable eavesdropper.”
    Jordan cracked a smile. “I take offense to that, actually. I am a very skilled eavesdropper. But I came out here to enjoy a perfectly good cheroot. One that I’ve been forced to snub out since you arrived.”
    “You had no right to—”
    His hand went up to stop her. “I’m sure Lily and Devon would see things quite differently. No doubt they’d thank me.”
    Her cheeks flushed the loveliest shade of pink.
    “My sister and Devon don’t understand and, apparently, neither do you. But it is absolutely none of your affair!” She turned her back on him.
    “It is my affair, actually. I am your chaperone. Not to mention, if you intend to use me to make Eggleston jealous, then it’s even more my affair.” He crossed his arms over his chest and arched a brow at her.
    She turned an even brighter shade of pink and bit her lip. The tell.
    Jordan eyed her. “I’ve done you a great service this evening and this is how you repay me? Outrage and ingratitude?”
    Annie’s jaw dropped open. “A great service? Are you mad? How do you think you’ve done me a great service?”
    “Trust me. You wouldn’t have wanted to kiss Eggleston.”
    Annie squeezed her reticule, and Jordan could only guess she was imagining it was his throat. “Really? How would you know? Have you kissed him?”
    Jordan shrugged. “It’s just a sense I get about the chap. The way he sits a horse, refuses to drink, mentions his father four times in one conversation. To be honest, I’ve been convinced the man isn’t interested in women at all.” Jordan shook his head. “I’m sorry to tell you, none of it bodes well for your marital bed.”
    Annie’s cheeks flamed. Her voice shook with outrage. “First of all, you should not have been eavesdropping. It’s unspeakably rude, and second, what would you know about a marital bed? You’re not married!”
    As soon as the words left her mouth, she clapped her hand over it. “Oh, good heavens, I want to sink through the grass,” she murmured, pulling her hand away.
    Jordan arched a brow. “Guessed, did you, how I might know such a thing?”
    She closed her eyes, reopened them slowly, and cleared her throat. “Frances says you’re a rakehell. I assume that’s how you know.”
    “A rakehell? Really? I suppose that’s fair.” At the moment, all he could think about was wrapping up this little matter with the unhappy Miss Andrews and making his way to his mistress Nicoletta’s town house.
    Annie’s eyes shot dark sparks at him. “Very well. If you’re a rakehell, you must be quite experienced, then.”
    Jordan coughed. “Experienced?”
    “Yes. At kissing.”
    He shook his head. “I’ve had no complaints.”
    Annie tapped her slipper on the grass. “Will you kiss me then?”
    Jordan’s head snapped up and he gave her a look as if he were convinced she’d lost her mind. “Pardon?”
    “Will you kiss me?”
    He arched a brow. “Under no circumstances.”
    She gave him a smug smile. “Afraid?”
    Jordan took two steps toward her and towered over her. “Miss Andrews, you should learn not to play games with vastly superior players.”
    Annie stared straight up at him. “Vastly superior? My. My. Arrogant, aren’t we?”
    “Merely confident. And I’m not about to play into your little game of trying to make Eggleston jealous, which I assume is the reason for your request.”
    She didn’t look away. Impressive.
    She glanced about, holding out her