Page 19 of If the Slipper Fits
He tapped his coat over his ribcage, assuring himself the slipper tucked in his inner pocket remained, snugly in place. “No, indeed. I bid you good evening, Mrs. Jones.”
He turned on his heel and sauntered away.
Chapter Five
Anna didn’t wait to see if Caden glanced over his shoulder. She dove into the night-dark antechamber and slung the door closed behind her with more force than was, strictly speaking, necessary.
Fumbling in the pitch blackness, she struck a match, cupped the flame—with shaking fingers, blast it—and lit the sconces framing the draped oriel window.
Bathed in the soft glow illuminating the chamber, she stripped off the beautiful gold silk gown she’d borrowed for the evening. Rehanging the dress, she smoothed her hands over the fine material. She'd felt a bit like a princess wearing it. Even Lady Wentworth had exclaimed over her appearance.
Dear God, Lady Wentworth. She’d been so preoccupied with Caden, she’d failed to consider the fine fettle she’d gotten herself into.
What would Lady Wentworth say regarding Anna’s blatant disregard of her explicit directive? More to the point, what would shedo?
Irrespective of the undergarments she still wore, Anna paced the small space, her mind racing anew. The dowager duchess had her quirks, some might argue flaws. Particular, demanding, eccentric, reclusive. But she was also fair-minded. Anna had never known her to sack one of her employees for a minor infraction.
The question was, would she consider Anna ignoring an express orderminor? Anna thought not. She paused in the middle of the room to cover her eyes with one hand and tried to imagine Lady Wentworth’s reaction.
She would be disappointed. Maybe hurt? That thought alone settled in her stomach like a brick. She might have—all right did have— a tough exterior, but she always treated Anna like a member of her inner circle.
She slumped into an armchair and stared morosely at her stockinged feet. In the two years of her employ, never once had Anna been the recipient of the lady’s wrath, and this was how she repaid her kindness.
How intimidated she’d felt interviewing for the post of companion to the dowager, owing primarily to her made-up references, or rather the fact they’d not, apparently, passed muster. Witness the minor noblewoman who had hired her prior to Lady Wentworth only to summarily rescind her offer of employment a day later.
The placement agency gave no explanation for the client’s retraction, and Anna hadn’t asked. She hardly wanted to draw attention to the most likely reason. Her potential employer must have attempted to verify her falsified letters of recommendation.
Oddly, the agency had not sent her packing. Instead, they informed her she would soon interview for the post of companion to the highest-ranking member of society she’d ever lain eyes upon.
The pinched-faced agents had taken great pains to warn her of the noted recluse’s exacting standards. They did not have to spell out the obvious: Anna stood little chance of securing the post.
Yet to their mutual surprise, Lady Wentworth hired her on sight. When they boarded the Wentworth travel coach bound for Northumberland the very same day, Anna silently surmised the lady had filled the post in haste and thus had no time to check her references. She could only thank her lucky stars.
For two years since, Lady Wentworth’s exclusionary world had provided a haven of safety for Anna. The unexpected boon was the bond which had sprung up between them almost instantly. Lady Wentworth felt like home to her, and she liked to think her presence added something worthwhile to her employer’s life.
Tonight, thanks to losing her head over Caden, thanks to indulging her silly, fanciful holdover dreams from childhood where she was the princess and Caden her prince, she’d jeopardized all of that.
She could practically see her mother shaking her head in that I-told-you-so way she so disliked.
She couldn’t undo what had been done. She’d do the next best thing. She would apologize to Lady Wentworth the first chance she got, pray for a second chance, and hope she still held her position come morning.
***
The groan of a door hinge sent Anna half out of the wingback chair where she dozed. Heart racing, she gripped the armrests and glanced around the dimly lit chamber anticipating the sight of dust-coveredvelvet drapes, a sagging gold-tasseled canopy over a lumpy four post bed--and the scowling face of Angelique, her father's widow.
The stuttering candlelight instead revealed rose and cream papered walls, a large wardrobe and folded cot, and Lady Wentworth coming through the chamber door. Relief swept through her as the nightmare's tentacles receded.
Then she remembered the mess she'd created.
Knuckling her eyes, she sat upright and braced for her comeuppance.
“Good evening, Lady Wentworth.”
"Anna." The older woman moved toward her, peeling off her kidskin gloves.
“I suppose you’re wondering what happened tonight?” Anna queried in a small voice.
Lady Wentworth settled herself on an adjacent chair. “I might have done, if not for the enlightening conversation I had with a certain handsome gentleman with the devil’s own charm. I believe you know the one?”
