is no sort of match for an innocent young girl like yourself,” she said. “I know he’s a very handsome man—I’ve seen him. He’s also a shallow, degenerate wastrel, a gambler, a seducer, a charlatan, and if even half the stories that are spread about him are true then you’d be better off dead than married to such a depraved monster.”
“Don’t be ridiculous—he’s not a monster at all. He’s absolutely charming.”
“That’s what’s so dangerous about him,” Annelise said grimly. “His face and his charm lure people into trusting him. Much to their misfortune.”
“What in the world did he ever do to you?” Hetty demanded.
“Not a thing,” Annelise replied truthfully. “We have never been formally introduced, and I hope never to be. He’s a man who doesn’t belong in the kind of circles your father aspires to. I’m astonished he would even countenance such a match…”
“Oh, he says I can’t have him,” Hetty said airily, tossing herself onto the damask-covered bed with a total lack of decorum. “But I know my father. I’m his only child—of course he’ll want me to be happy, as long as I manage to secure someone with a title. If I want to marry Christian Montcalm then I shall. After all, I’d be a viscountess—not quite as nice as a duchess but all the dukes I’ve met have been old and ugly. Besides, I expect all Christian needs is the love of a good woman.”
Annelise laughed. “I’m afraid Mr. Montcalm has availed himself of the love of a great many good women, leaving them the worse for it. You’ll find someone else just as charming and far less dangerous.”
The moment the word was out of her mouth she could have bit her tongue. Dangerous. What impressionable, romantic, headstrong young girl wouldn’t be fascinated by a dangerous man? Annelise had never been that young or that stupid, but Hetty Chipple was ripe for trouble, and clearly she was not going to be listening to common sense for the time being.
She would just have to make certain Hetty wasn’t in Montcalm’s company until she came up with a suitable alternative to distract her. Girls Hetty’s age fell in and out of love quite easily. London society was certain to be able to produce at least one attractive contender to distract her from Montcalm’s dubious charms.
A demure expression crossed Hetty’s lovely face. “I suppose you’re right,” she said with a soulful sigh that Annelise didn’t believe for a moment. “I’ll just leave you to get settled in, shall I? I need a bit of a rest myself—have to be beautiful for tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“We’re going to Lady Bellwhite’s. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”
“I’ve always enjoyed her gardens,” said Annelise, remembering the opportunities for mischief that ran rampant in the place. “I’m certain I’ll appreciate it even more with your company.”
Hetty almost made a face but she stopped herself in time, clearly remembering that she was trying another tack with her unwanted friend. “I shall, as well,” she said sweetly.
Annelise waited until the door closed behind her to sit down on the now-rumpled bed. It was a good, solid mattress—at least there were some advantages that money could buy. She pulled off her bonnet and set it down beside her, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror.
Having spent the better part of an hour staring at the perfection of Hetty Chipple, the vision was even more disheartening.
She glanced down at her feet. It was really unfair that she be cursed with big feet, particularly when compared to Hetty’s tiny ones. Of course, her feet were in proportion to her ridiculously long legs, but even so, fate could have been kind enough to make at least something out of proportion.
But fate had been busy elsewhere. She had long legs, long arms, a long neck and a long face. She knew her physical attributes far too well—she had fine gray eyes, but they were usually covered by her spectacles. Her hair was an indeterminate shade—a mixture of brown, blond and red hues, and the only thing she could do was pin it tightly to the base of her neck and hope no one would notice its odd color. At one point she’d tried to wear lace caps to further disguise it, which also had the benefit of proclaiming her old-maid status, but the caps tended to flap in her face and itch, or catch on the rims of her spectacles, and she’d given them up regretfully.
The cut of the dress was suitably shapeless, disguising her small waist as well as her large chest. Indeed, she wouldn’t attract attention from anyone, which was just as she wanted it…Unlike Hetty Chipple, who would draw trouble to her like a magnet.
On impulse Annelise stood up and went to the window, looking across at the rambling downs of Green Park. In time to see Miss Chipple, totally without chaperon, disappear into the shrubbery.
Annelise didn’t waste time with her hat. She raced out the door, grabbed the first maid she saw and tore down the steep marble stairs and into the street, dragging the poor girl behind her. Fortunately Josiah Chipple was nowhere to be seen. While Annelise was there as a favor to the shipping magnate, she still had a strong sense of responsibility, and letting a young girl run through a park unchaperoned was not going to happen while she was a member of the household.
It was a cool day, and there were doubtless strange looks being cast their way, but Annelise was too determined to catch Hetty before she caused a complete scandal to even notice. She plunged into the bushes where she’d last seen Hetty, dragging the hapless maid with her.
She could see Hetty up ahead, alone, seemingly waiting for someone in the shelter of one of the overgrown bushes. There was no doubt who she was waiting for, and no doubt that Annelise would have to move fast.
She sped up, just as Hetty started to step through a narrow break in the hedge, and caught her by the back of her gown, hauling her backward.
Hetty was too astonished to let out more than a little squeak, but when she saw who’d grabbed her, her bright blue eyes filled with a murderous rage.
“You!” she said, her voice rich with bile. “Leave me alone.”
There was one advantage to being almost a foot taller than Hetty—they were no even match. Annelise turned her around and shoved her at the maid. “Get back to the house, now!” she said. “And perhaps I won’t tell your father that you’re out to ruin all his careful plans.”
Hetty opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again. So there was something that still had power over Hetty. “I’ll never forgive you for this!” she hissed, and then flounced off, the maid rushing to keep up with her.
Annelise stood there in the chilly air, watching the pair of them, and she sighed. Challenges were all well and good, but her godmother had failed to tell her what a handful the girl was going to be. She might have to go to Mr. Chipple with her concerns, but not before she tried to talk Hetty out of her infatuation. Chipple might not know of the depth of Montcalm’s depravity—he wouldn’t have traveled in circles where Montcalm’s unsavory reputation was bandied about, but Annelise had heard more than enough tales of the absolute perfidy—
“I take it that’s Miss Chipple being dragged away?” a voice, rich with amusement, sounded in her ear. It was a warm voice, the same voice she’d heard earlier at the Chipples’, but Annelise froze. She considered her options. She could ignore the voice, follow the two women and never look back. Or she could turn and face the cause of all this trouble and put him in his place.
She
