“Lud, child, where have you been? Greyley inherited an entire brood of children. And now that he’s awash with responsibility, speculation is rife that he will wish to marry. I’ve heard it said that he’s worth twenty thousand a year, too.”

Anna barely refrained from snorting aloud. Greyley might be worth twenty thousand a year, but he was also the most arrogant, most insufferable, and most obstinate man to walk the earth.

Mary gasped. “Look, Mama! He’s coming this way.”

Anna followed the girl’s gaze, and sure enough, Greyley was bearing down on them, but his dark eyes were not fastened on the woman in pink flounce, but on Anna. A trill of uncertainty touched her, and her shoulders lifted of their own accord.

Why on earth would Anthony Elliot wish to see her? Perhaps he wanted to speak about Sara. Or maybe—

Dear God, the children. Anna whirled on her heel and slipped through the crowd, weaving through a crush of people by inserting an elbow here, a polite smile there. She circumvented the earl altogether and reached the foyer as if pursued by the devil himself. Despite the fact that Greyley was a commanding presence, Anna knew it would be some time before he extricated himself from that crowd of milling mamas and their dangling daughters.

She reached the safety of the foyer in what must have been record time, glancing over her shoulder and sighing in relief when she saw no sign of the earl. She called for her carriage, waiting impatiently until it rumbled up.

Anna was just lifting her foot to climb inside when a warm hand closed over her elbow. A hot jolt of sensation trembled up her arm and made her jerk away. Off balance, she reeled backward, her shoe falling from the foot she held aloft and landing with a clack on the cobblestone.

Still wobbling, she was caught in a firm embrace and unceremoniously righted. “Running away?” said a deep, masculine voice. “I would never have thought it of you.”

The warm, smoky timbre of Greyley’s voice made Anna stiffen and she was immediately released. She placed an unsteady hand on the side of the coach and turned to face her accuser. It was very difficult to be dignified when one had to hold one’s stocking-clad foot above the muddy cobblestones, but she thought she managed quite well.

Or she thought she had until she found herself staring into Anthony Elliot’s darkly lashed eyes. Pools of melted chocolate, they made her heart race, her skin heat. Fascinated, she found she could not look away. “I am not running anywhere.”

He gave the carriage a pointed stare.

“I was just, ah, going home. But slowly. I really wasn’t running.”

Amusement softened the hard line of his mouth. He waved the waiting footman away before turning the full force of his heated gaze back on Anna. “Leaving without your shoe, Miss Thraxton?”

Anna followed his gaze to where her shoe lay on its side, looking forlorn and alone on the curb. “I suppose I will need that.”