Page 22 of His Scandalous Lessons
He shifted uncomfortably. “It’s nice. I’ve a fine appreciation for a woman with dimples. Yours are no exception.”
“Do you have dimples? I can’t recall.”
“No.”
“Will you smile so I can judge for myself?”
“Anne.”
She reached for him. “I think you do.” He dodged her hand, but she was persistent. “I think you—”
“Anne.”
“Have a dimple right—”
He burst into laughter as she tickled him along his sides.
“There —aaack!”
Anne fell flush against Richard. His warm, muscled body was pressed firmly enough to hers that she felt the cadence of his heart against her chest. Somewhere in their tussle, he’d grabbed both of her hands, and now his fingers were threaded through hers in the way of lovers in the midst of intimacy. Their smiles were gone now, their lips so close that Anne considered breaking her rule and kissing him.
But he only pulled back and said softly, “Time for you to go back to bed, sweetheart. You’ve got a busy morning.”
“Yes,” she said, but he hadn’t yet released her hands. “Yes, I do.”
“Horses,” he reminded her.
“Horses,” she echoed.
Richard let her go. “To bed, Anne.”
“Yes.”
She scrambled up and headed to the door, feeling dizzy now. Then, before she forgot: “Mr. William Hawley.”
She thought she heard him let out a breath. “What about him?”
“His vote will also be easy to secure. He has a significant gambling problem and goes to my father when he needs to pay off his debt in exchange for a vote. Send your man Thorne to Neville’s — that’s the club he frequents most. Buy off his debt, and he’s yours to command.” Before he said anything, Anne slipped out of the bedroom.
* * *
In the spanof an hour with the Marquess of Granby, Anne learned more about horses than she cared for. He told her how to raise and saddle them, proper riding form, their various gaits and body shapes, the name of every horse in Granby’s stables, and those of his racing horses.
Richard was right. Not only did Granby know more about horses than women, he seemed to know more about them than, well,anything.She was exhausted.
Even so, Anne tried her best to show polite interest. Though Caroline had introduced her to many gentlemen the night before, few had the influence or independence Granby did. The others were either too young, more interested in dalliances than marriage, or didn’t strike her as willful enough not to succumb to Stanton’s machinations. This would all be pointless if she ended up with a man who could be easily manipulated by her father after she had worked so hard to escape him.
“It astonishes me that you never learned how to ride,” Granby said as they rounded a small pond on the Ravenhill property. “I thought most ladies did, especially those raised in the country.”
Anne could not tell him that Stanton believed riding afforded a woman too much freedom. If she could ride, perhaps she might consider leaving him one day. So Stanton kept her dependent on means of transportation that involved the servants in his employ.
“I suppose I’ll have to learn now, won’t I?” she said, flashing Granby a smile.
“I would be pleased to help you,” Granby replied. His smile was shy. “Tomorrow, if you’d like?”
Anne suddenly felt so bloody guilty for thinking him boring. He may not be the most exciting gentleman — he didn’t heat her blood or make her smile like Richard did — but he was kind. A partnership with him would not be passionate, but it would be safe.
Safety after a betrothal to a man like Kendal was more than she could have dreamed. It would be worth everything.
