Page 26 of What's an Earl Gotta Do?
“It is.”
She could feel her cheeks burning. “It looks… it looks very well on you.”
“Thank you.” In his expression she detected amusement, and… satisfaction?
She didn’t have time to ponder that, because he tucked her arm in his and escorted her to the carriage. It was one of those high-flyer models that were all the rage. Anne was busy enough with her society that she rarely found time for the afternoon promenade through Hyde Park, so she had only ridden in such a high vehicle on a handful of occasions. Let’s see, there was usually a step somewhere…
Without warning, Michael’s big, warm hands encircled her waist and he lifted her into the carriage with no apparent effort. This did nothing to restore Anne’s composure, and she found herself closing her mouth for the third time in the space of two minutes.
Michael climbed up beside her. “So, where are we off to?”
“Hyde Park.”
“And here I thought you had a surprise for me.”
She laughed. “I do, and the location of your surprise is Hyde Park.”
“Fair enough.” He clucked to the horses, and they were off.
“So,” Anne began, “what did you do this morning?”
“I paid a visit to your brother’s tailor,” Michael said with an unmistakable shudder.
Anne laughed. “That explains this handsome jacket. Was it that terrible?”
“You have no idea.”
“Oh, but I do. You’ve never visited a French dressmaker. With Caro.”
“I will admit, that does sound horrifying, but I beg you not to make light of my ordeal.”
“If you’ve survived… whatever it is you’ve been doing in Canada—wrestling bears, or some such—then surely you can endure a visit to the tailor.”
“I would take the bears over this any day. But speaking of Caro, where is she? I thought she would’ve made her debut this year.”
“Caro is away on her bridal trip. The wedding was just last week, and you’ll never guess whom she married—Lord Thetford!”
Michael turned his head and gaped before breaking into a broad grin. Anne knew he remembered the rather obvious infatuation Caro had developed for Harrington’s best friend when he had come for a visit some four years ago. “Did she truly?”
“She did. And I am pleased to report that this time around, Lord Thetford is completely besotted with her.”
Michael laughed. “Good for her.”
“I’m so happy for her.” Anne sighed. “A touch envious, if I’m being honest.”
“Envious? What do you mean, envious? It’s not as if you wanted to marry Thetford.” Michael gave her a sharp look. “Did you?”
“Gracious, no. Lord Thetford and I would never suit. I just envy her for having made a love match.” They had reached the entrance to Hyde Park. Rotten Row wasn’t yet packed, as the fashionable promenade wouldn’t begin for another hour and a half, but it was crowded enough near the gate that Michael had to slow the horses. “Drive all the way to the end of the row, then keep going,” Anne instructed.
“You will make a love match,” Michael said quietly, his eyes fixed on the path ahead.
Anne sighed. “I hope so. But you have no way of knowing that, Michael.”
“Oh, yes, I do,” he muttered.
Anne was about to ask what he meant by that when she heard someone calling, “Lady Wynters! Oh, Lady Wynters!”
She turned to see a familiar face approaching on horseback. Augusta Wriothesley was not only the most dedicated volunteer for the Ladies’ Society, she was also one of Anne’s dearest friends, for all that she was old enough to be Anne’s mother. “Mrs. Wriothesley, good afternoon.”
