Page 28 of If the Slipper Fits
Caden exited the gentleman’s wing en route for the grand hall and this afternoon’s activity, whatever it may be.
His plan had worked this morning. He’d intercepted Anna before she’d headed out for her walk and spent a glorious few hours with her. He’d kissed her as he’d wanted to from the moment he’d laid eyes on her stretched out on that lawn chair.
So why was he in such a foul mood?
Scratch that.Horrendousmood.
The fault lie entirely with the chit, Anna, or Gloriana, or Mrs. Jones, or whomever she claimed to be at the moment. She wanted nothing to do with him. He’d read her disinclination on her face as clearly as if she had spoken the words aloud.
And this wasafterhe’d kissed her.
As to why her rejection mattered so much, he couldn’t say.
Except that it made no sense—especially after that divine kiss. He hadn’t been the only one affected by it, of that he was sure.
She’d practically melted in his arms. He could still feel her lithe body, pliant against his, could recall that elegant scent, uniquely hers, enveloping him, teasing his senses in a way he’d never experienced. Christ.He tunneled a hand through his hair. Remembering the heaven of holding her in his arms was driving him mad.
Clearly, he’d been too long without the charms of a woman—between Zeke’s wedding and the tasks he’d taken on in Derby, not to mention this last minute party, there hadn’t been time. Yes, that was the problem. Whether or not he laid eyes onMrs. Jonesagain made no difference to him.
He had wanted to see her expression when he revealed he knew her true identity—assuming he was right about who he thought she was. He was ninety-nine percent certain.
He merged with a handful of guests ascending the wide marble steps marking the entrance of the grand hall. Wading into the crush of people, he pasted a jovial smile on his face. This was a party, after all, and he was Caden Thurgood of Claybourne, the consummate party guest.
The room was blasted hot, and smelled of warm bodies—more than fifty at a glance—and liberally applied perfume. The muggy air sneaking in from outdoors had created a ripe, stifling atmosphere.
He tugged at his cravat and decided the knock he’d taken on the head yesterday sufficed to excuse him from today’s fun-filled activity.
He turned to leave in time to witness a liveried servant closing the double doors and sealing his fate. Nothing for it but to soldier on.
Movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention. Harrison, his young friend, stood in the thick of things, madly waving in a come hither gesture. The misses Applegate and Egerton once again flanked him. The prospect of fending off their advances held as much appeal as it had yesterday.
Pretending not to see them, he slipped into the crowd and started in the opposite direction. His steps faltered before his brain made the connection as to why.
Anna.
For a timeless moment he drank in the sight of her, slight and elegant in a fine yellow day dress, the furthest thing from servant’s attire. She wore another unfortunate bonnet with an over-large brim. Although he could not see her eyes for the bonnet, he caught the wry smile she aimed at her employer.
Lady Wentworth spoke in an animated fashion. Her narrowed gaze shifted about the room landing on this person, then that. Her accompanying scowl told him she did not hold the assembled guests in high esteem.
He wondered why on earth the woman had agreed to attend the celebration, family notwithstanding. Not that he had any complaints. Make thatmanycomplaints.
He shook himself out of his stupor, squared his shoulders and strode toward Anna and Lady Wentworth like a man fully confident of his reception. In truth his insides quaked like a schoolboy’s about to take his first pony ride.
The dowager spied Caden first. Her faded eyes twinkled in silent greeting, as if the two of them shared a secret. A moment later, she shifted and, to Caden’s eyes, purposefully blocked his approach from Anna’s view.
He was really starting to like the grande dame.
A firm hand clasped his shoulder from behind. “I say, Thurgood, did you not see me over there?”
Harrison. Caden had only himself to blame, standing there gawking at Jones.
Resigned, he turned. Harrison’s entourage hadn’t accompanied him, it seemed. He smiled. “Over where? I’ve only just arrived.”
“The ladies and I have a glass of champagne for you. Why’re you bound hell-for-leather toward the fringes of the party?” He craned his neck to look past Caden, then grinned. “Oh. I see what you’re about.”
Heat crept up his neck belying his casual, “I don't follow.”
Harrison’scome nowlook said he didn’t buy Caden’s act. “Unless you’re hoping to further your acquaintance with the dowager duchess, I assume you’re after her lovely companion, Mrs. Jones.”
