“Well, if it isn’t Miss Thraxton,” Lady Putney said, her gaze drifting to the closed door beyond. “Yet another tête-à-tête with His Lordship, hm?”

“Lord Greyley and I were discussing the children.”

Lady Putney smiled, a tight, nasty smile. “A word of warning, my dear. I wouldn’t be quite so familiar with His Lordship, if I were you. It could start some nasty rumors, and that would be fatal to one in your circumstances.”

“Thank you for your advice, Lady Putney. I’ll consider it thoroughly.” With a stiff curtsy, Anna turned on her heel and left.

Lady Putney watched her go, her brow drawn in thought as she stared down the hallway. Somehow she’d lost her power over the children and she was just beginning to realize why. “Jenkins!” she called shrilly.

The butler appeared. “Yes, my lady?”

“Send paper and pen to my room. I wish to write a letter.”

“Yes, my lady.” He bowed and left and Lady Putney made her way to her room, her mind working furiously.

Chapter 20

If Edmund Valmont is invited to my funeral, promise you’ll bury me in a plain coat with no buttons.

The Duke of Wexford to his friend, Viscount Hunterston, on the way home from Lord Dunsmore’s funeral

Three days passed in which Anthony was kept busy by the disgruntled Dalmapple with a number of items, two of which had to do with Elliot cousins who were on the verge of ruin. Anthony looked through the papers Dalmapple had collected, his mind wandering. He’d only managed to spend a very small amount of time with Anna and the children and he was unaccountably irritated by that fact.

He rubbed a hand over his face. What was he going to do? Anna was making it more and more clear that she would have nothing to do with him without a more substantial relationship. And Anthony couldn’t blame her, she was a woman who expected and deserved more. Still, he was locked into a course of action from which there was no retreating. He’d made a formal offer for Charlotte and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. God, what a coil.

It was late, the light guttering in the lamp, the fire sputtering weakly. Weary in heart and soul, he decided to go to bed now, before he fell asleep in his chair.

Anthony rose and stretched, then left the library. As he crossed the foyer, he came to a sudden halt. Rupert Elliot stood in the entryway, handing his hat to the waiting Jenkins.

“Rupert!” Anthony said, coming forward. “What an unexpected surprise.”

The young man turned, an immediate grin lighting his face. “I thought to sneak in and surprise you tomorrow at breakfast, but you have found me out.”

“Breakfast? I wasn’t aware you ate that meal. I’ve never seen you up before noon.”

Rupert chuckled. “Luncheon, then. Either way, my surprise is ruined.”

“So it is.” Anthony sent a shrewd look at the young man. “What brings you to Greyley at this time of the night?”