sucked in a hard breath. “Good God, Wesley, we are not—” her voice dropped to whisper “—lovers. Nor do I want anyone to think we are! Why, I would be ruined. My reputation...”
The expression on his face was nothing less than angelic, overly innocent and entirely too smug. His eyes, however, danced with laughter.
She narrowed her eyes. “You should know right now, I do not like to be teased.”
“And yet I find teasing you to be most enjoyable.”
“Well, I don’t like it.”
“And does your perfect suitor do everything you want? Has he no mind of his own?”
“He doesn’t do things to annoy me.” She summoned a pleasant smile. It wouldn’t do to have anyone think they were having anything less than a romantic moment.
“Does Mr. Reed?”
“Douglas?” She scoffed. “No, of course not.”
“I see.”
“I daresay, you don’t see anything at all. And I would appreciate you keeping in mind that I am paying you for your services and therefore—”
“There is no therefore, Anabel. I shall play this role as I see fit,” he said firmly, “and I have no doubt you’ll be delighted with the result.”
It was all she could do to keep her jaw from dropping open. The nerve of the man! Who did he think he was? For the first time in her nearly twenty-one years, Anabel had no idea what to say.
The music drew to a close. Wesley released her and stepped back with a show of obvious reluctance. Admittedly, it was rather perfect.
He took her hand and raised it to his lips, his gaze never leaving hers. “You are paying me to be passionately in love with you. At least until the day after Christmas.” He smiled. “I assure you, you will not regret it.”
“I don’t intend to.” She couldn’t seem to stop staring at him. Her inner voice was right—this was a dangerous man. Still, it was only an act.
He released her hand and the oddest sense of loss stabbed her. “Isn’t it time I met your father?”
She gestured across the room. “He’s over there, I think, fuming that Aunt Lillian isn’t here tonight.” Anabel wouldn’t know anything about anything if it weren’t for Aunt Lillian. She took his arm and they started around the perimeter of the dance floor. “She was my mother’s sister-in-law. My mother died when I was very young and my aunt was widowed several years ago. She and Father are not overly fond of each other, but I’ve always thought she was wonderful.”
“Tell me more. The more I know about you, the more real our charade will appear.” He stopped midstep. “Where did we meet?”
She thought for a moment. Damn it all, she hadn’t even considered this kind of detail. “I don’t know. The British Museum?”
“Excellent.” He nodded in obvious surprise.
“Apparently I’m not the only one jumping to conclusions about the other.” They headed toward her father. “My being pretty does not mean I’m shallow. It does not preclude my being clever and interested in things other than fashion and gossip.”
He smiled but said nothing. Wise of him.
“Have you considered what happens after Christmas?”
“We go our separate ways, admitting we were not meant to be together after all.” She shrugged. “It’s as simple as that.”
“Is it?” he murmured.
It was really only in her mind, but it did seem the crowd parted as they approached her father. She shook her head to clear it. Father stood, talking with several other gentlemen and Mrs. Higginbotham. Mrs. Higginbotham and Father had been friends since their youth. Fortunately, Douglas was nowhere to be seen.
“Father.” Anabel tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and stepped away from the group, and their discussion continued without him. “I want you to meet someone.”
“Oh?” Father’s assessing and somewhat suspicious gaze traveled over Wesley.
“Allow me to present Mr. Wesley Everheart.” She cast an adoring gaze at Wesley. “He’s American.”
“It’s my very great honor to meet you, sir.” Wesley stepped forward and thrust out his hand.
Father shook his hand and studied him curiously. “Everheart, you say?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you any relation to Reginald Everheart?”
Anabel held her breath.
“He was my father, sir,” Wesley said smoothly.
Father visibly softened. “Fine man, your father. Never met him myself. Remarkable reputation though.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Are you following in his footsteps?”
“I doubt that I could, sir.”
Father studied him for a moment and then chuckled. “It’s a wise man who knows his own limitations.”
Wesley grinned. “Exactly what my father used to say.”
“Anabel, you didn’t tell me you had met the son of Reginald Everheart.”
“Of course I did, Father.” Indeed, she had mentioned him several times since she and Aunt Lillian had concocted their plan. Fortunately, she had only referred to him as Mr. Everheart and not Earnest—which she still thought was an excellent name. Better yet, Father’s head was usually so filled with matters of business, and who knew what else, that one could say nearly anything to him, and while he would acknowledge such conversation with an absent smile and a nod, he rarely remembered details. A trait of his nature Anabel and her sisters had long used to their advantage.
“Where did you meet my daughter, Mr. Everheart?” Father’s tone was offhanded, belying the sharp look in his eyes.
“At the British Museum, in a gallery of classical sculpture. She was gazing at the statues and I was staring at her.” He glanced at her as if she were the most remarkable creature in the world. It was enough to make a lady swoon if she didn’t know it was an act. But a very good act. “A goddess come to life.”
“I see.” Father’s gaze slid from Wesley to Anabel. “Douglas asked if he could see you home.”
“Father, I really don’t think—”
Father held up a hand to stop her. “That’s what I told him.” He heaved a resigned sigh. Was it at all possible that Father had at last understood she had no desire to marry Douglas? “I told him he could call on you.” Apparently not.
“I would be delighted to accompany Miss Snelling
