Page 8 of What's an Earl Gotta Do?
Her partner took her hand and towed her toward the center of the ballroom. Everyone, absolutely everyone, was staring at them. And no wonder—she was wearing the most scandalous dress imaginable, she had almost incited a duel, and now she was being dragged across the ballroom by a perfect stranger, as if she were the spoils of war. She, the most respectable woman in all of London! Well, not anymore, clearly, but still.
She spied her two older brothers standing near the refreshment table and shot them a beseeching look. Help, she whispered. As expected, Harrington was laughing at her. Honestly, she hadn’t expected any differently, Harrington thought everything was a joke. But to her surprise, her eldest brother, Edward, also ignored her entreaty. He was smiling broadly, his dimples flashing, and he raised his glass in salute.
That was strange because Edward was the most honorable man she knew. It was completely unlike him to stand by when any woman was in distress.
Oh, but there was her Mama. Surely she would save her. She shot her mother a desperate look, but the countess wore a smirk that rivaled Harrington’s, and carried on fanning herself in smug satisfaction.
Well, there was no helping it, she was going to have to dance with the man. She took up her place in the set and forced herself to smile.
The music began. Their first turn was unremarkable, but on their second, the man leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You look beautiful tonight, Anne.”
She shivered, actually shivered, as his deep voice rumbled up and down her spine. Goodness, he had called her Anne—again! And she still had no idea who he even was. She felt certain they had never met before.
This man she would have remembered.
And yet clearly, he knew her. She peered up at him, baffled. The mask fit him poorly enough that she couldn’t make out his eyes. But what she could see of his face was every bit as handsome as she had suspected it would be from across the ballroom. He had a strong jaw, freshly shaven but already showing a hint of a dark shadow. His ears stuck out a bit, but somehow it suited him, balancing out the broadness of his shoulders.
He also had the most perfectly shaped lips she had ever seen.
Why did she keep thinking these things, about… lips and loincloths? What was wrong with her?
As they circled each other a third time, the deep voice returned to her ear. “Let’s go somewhere where we can talk.”
“Talk?” she sputtered.
He was already leading her toward the open balcony doors. If there had been any doubt that everyone was staring at her before, they certainly were now! What on earth were they going to talk about? She didn’t even know the man. Oh, this was a disaster, of the most epic proportions.
He led her out onto the deserted balcony. Anne managed to extricate her hand and took up a place at the balustrade overlooking the garden.
She cast about for a topic. “It’s chilly tonight, isn’t it?”
“Funny,” the deep voice replied, “I feel positively warm.”
What on earth did that mean? She was trying to think of a response when the man took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “Anne,” he said, laughing, “you don’t recognize me.”
It was true, but she could hardly admit as much. “Of course I... erm... that is to say...”
“I know it’s been four years, but I didn’t think you would have forgotten me entirely,” he said, reaching up to unhook his mask.
Anne froze, her heart suddenly pounding. Four years? There was someone she hadn’t seen in four years. Someone she had missed every single day, so much it hurt. But it couldn’t be...
The mask came off, and she found her gaze riveted to his eyes. Even in the dim torchlight of the balcony, she could see they were a deep, emerald green.
There was only one man in the world who had eyes that green.
“Michael!” she gasped, and without thinking, she threw her arms around his neck.
Chapter 2
Anne had sometimes wondered how she would feel when this moment finally came, the moment she saw Michael again. She had honestly never been sure. There were times when she had missed him so much, she would have given anything to have him with her, even for just an hour.
But then there were times when she had cried herself to sleep, wondering why her one-time best friend, the boy who used to write her twice a week from school without fail, wouldn’t answer any of her letters.
There were moments when she thought of Michael warmly, as her dearest friend. But if she was being honest, there were also moments when she felt hurt. Confused.
Even angry.
And so she had never been sure what her reaction would be. But now that he was here…
