Ledbetter returned carrying a pair of red velvet slippers, ostentatiously embroidered with purple and gilt thread. The tips were slightly pointed and large gold tassels adorned the sides.

Brand choked. “Bloody hell!”

“They’re from our beloved Aunt Delphi,” Anthony said, eyeing the shoes with distaste. “She assured me they were all the rage in France.”

“And to think I complained when she bought me that pair of spangled stockings,” Brand said. “Pray tell me you aren’t going to wear those monstrosities.”

“I don’t have a choice. I’m going to find Miss Thraxton and show her how remiss she’s been at her position.” Anthony yanked the slippers from Ledbetter’s hand and threw them onto the floor, then rammed his feet into them. His heels hung a good inch over the backs. “Damn it!”

Brand winced. “I can’t watch this. I’m on my way to the stables to see to Satan. Come and join me if you find your riding boots.” Casting a last, laughing glance at his brother’s feet, Brand left.

As soon as the door closed, Ledbetter sniffed. “If you don’t mind my saying so, this isn’t a matter for levity. Footwear is an important part of one’s attire.” He glanced at Anthony’s feet and shuddered. “I will be waiting to hear what has occurred to your shoes. I only hope they have not been left in a moldy, damp place.”

Anthony didn’t answer, but turned and tromped out, gold tassels swinging with each step.

Chapter 16

The problem with gambling, whether it be for sport or profit, is that one rarely wins without also losing.

Mrs. Kemble to Lord Alvaney, commiserating with each other at the annual Huntington Charity Ball

“Elizabeth, will you read the next section? I wonder if our poor knight will ever find his way home,” Anna said, her face tilted to the sun. It was a lovely morning—warm and sparkling, not a cloud in sight. In fact, it had been the lure of the endless blue sky that had drawn her forth with the children, a blanket, and a book.

Yesterday had been a complete waste. After Lady Putney and Lord Greyley had descended on the nursery, neither she nor the children had been able to refocus their efforts. Anna had been forced to end their session early.

But today would be different, she told herself. Today she would not spend a single minute thinking about Anthony Elliot. Not one, she vowed.

After settling the children on a large blanket on the velvety lawn, Anna leaned back on her hands and let the morning breeze ease her heart. The sun shimmered in the midmorning sky, the grass was green and lush beneath her toes. Above, the tree branches swayed and birds sang. The only jarring note in an otherwise perfect summer day was the stern, stark outline of Greyley House.

It was just like Anthony Elliot to own a house that cast a dark shade over the surrounding countryside. It reminded her far too much of his overbearing personality.