That decided, she picked up a pair of scissors and furiously chopped out a new cannon for the children’s amusement.

Chapter 19

The man owes me twenty pounds and what does he do but stick his spoon in the wall and die without so much as a by-your-leave. There’s nothing left for it new, unless, of course, I were to nip a few of those silver buttons off the corpse, which I’d never do, there being so many people about and all.

Edmund Valmont to his friend, the Duke of Wexford, at the funeral of Lord Dunsmore, who died while eating a sausage at his lodgings on St. James Street

The next morning brought an end to the rain and a general increase in Anthony’s surly spirits. Brand left immediately after breakfast, saying he had urgent business in Devonshire to attend to. Another amorous adventure, Anthony decided sourly. He supposed he could sympathize; there was something intriguing about an elusive woman. Especially one who managed to avoid him even while employed under the same roof.

Since their meeting yesterday, Anthony had seen no more of Anna than the trail of her skirt as she whisked around the corner, always just out of sight. Every time she eluded him, he became more determined to seek her out. He’d even attempted to visit her in the nursery, but she’d recognized his tread on the stairs and had escaped out the narrow servants’ passage, leaving her teacup still gently steaming on a table, and a red-faced Lily stammering unintelligibly.

This morning had been no better—he’d ridden after the children who’d left for their morning ride, thinking to catch her there, only to discover two harassed grooms and a footman in attendance rather than Miss Thraxton. Robbed of his quarry, Anthony had stormed home and closeted himself with Dalmapple for the rest of the morning, taking care of matters of the estate and immersing himself so completely that he only occasionally thought of Anna. Once every two minutes or so.

He was just finishing a particularly thistly problem concerning the purchase of a rundown estate in Lincolnshire as a potential future home for Desford once he reached his majority, when a noise drew Anthony to the window.

He pushed back the edge of the curtain and looked into the garden below. On a low bench by the path sat Anna, dressed in a gown of soft blue that made her look as cool and refreshing as a spring breeze. She seemed engaged on some needlepoint, her hands steadily drawing a needle and thread through a bit of cloth.

On the bench across from her sat Desford, a book lying open on the ground at his feet. The boy was obviously on the defensive, his narrow shoulders hunched.

Careful not to make a noise, Anthony opened the window just a bit.

“I don’t have to be here,” Desford said.

Anna calmly took another stitch. “Yes, you do. If you cannot complete your lessons in the morning like the rest of the children, then you will give up your free time and do them now.”