The Raven Prince (Princes #1)(13)

Anna looked down at the fragile old hand on her arm; then she deliberately smiled and glanced up. “I am well aware that anything of a personal nature between Lord Swartingham and me would be improper. There’s no need to worry.”

The older woman searched her eyes a moment longer before patting Anna’s arm. “Don’t be too long, dear. We haven’t burned the supper yet tonight.”

Chapter Four

The duke turned and saw a huge raven perched on the wall of the castle. The bird hopped closer and cocked its head. “I will help you defeat the prince if you give me one of your daughters as my wife.”

“How dare you, sirrah!” The old duke quivered in indignation. “You insult me to imply I would even think to wed one of my daughters to a dusty bird.”

“Fine words, my friend,” the raven cackled. “But be not so quick. In a moment, you’ll lose both your daughters and your life.”

The duke stared at the raven and saw that this was no ordinary bird. It wore a golden chain around its neck, and a ruby pendant in the shape of a small, perfect crown hung on the chain. He looked back to the threatening army at his gates and, seeing he had little to lose, agreed to the unholy bargain….

—from The Raven Prince

“Have you considered the name ‘Sweetie’?” Anna asked as she spooned up some stewed apple.

She and the earl sat at one end of the immense dining room table. From the fine layer of dust on the mahogany at the other end of the table, she guessed that this room must not be used much. Did the earl even take his supper here? Yet the dining room had been opened every day of the last week for their luncheon. In that week, she’d learned that the earl was not a conversationalist. After many days of grunts and monosyllabic replies, it’d become something of a game to provoke a response from her employer.

Lord Swartingham paused in the act of cutting a piece of steak and kidney pie. “Sweetie?”

His eyes were on her mouth, and Anna realized she’d licked her lips. “Yes. Don’t you think ‘Sweetie’ a darling name?”

They both looked down at the dog beside the earl’s chair. It was gnawing on a soup bone, sharp fangs glittering.

“I think ‘Sweetie’ may not be altogether suitable for his personality,” Lord Swartingham said, placing the pie slice on his plate.

“Hmm. Perhaps you’re right.” Anna thoughtfully chewed. “Yet, you yourself haven’t offered an alternative.”

The earl sawed vigorously at a lump of meat. “That’s because I’m content to let the animal remain nameless.”

“Didn’t you have any dogs as a boy?”

“I?” He stared at her as if she’d asked if he’d had two heads as a boy. “No.”

“No pets at all?”

He scowled down at his pie. “Well, there was my mother’s lapdog—”

“There, you see,” Anna exclaimed in triumph.

“But the animal was a pug and an extremely irritable one at that.”

“Even so—”

“Used to growl and snap at everyone but Mother,” the earl mused, apparently to himself. “No one liked it. Once bit a footman. Father had to give the poor fellow a shilling.”

“And did the pug have a name?”

“Fiddles.” The earl nodded and took a bite of pie. “But Sammy called it Piddles. He also fed it Turkish delight just to see it get the candy stuck to the roof of its mouth.”

Anna smiled. “Sammy was your brother?”

Lord Swartingham had raised a glass of wine to his lips, and he paused for a fraction of a second before sipping. “Yes.” He placed the glass precisely beside his plate. “I’ll need to check on various matters on the estate this afternoon.”

Anna’s smile died. Their play was apparently at an end.

He continued, “Tomorrow I’ll need you to ride out with me. Hopple wants to show me some fields with a drainage problem, and I’d like you to take notes for us as we discuss possible solutions.” He looked up. “You do have a riding habit, don’t you?”

Anna tapped her fingers against her teacup. “As a matter of fact, I’ve never ridden.”

“Never?” His eyebrows shot up.

“We don’t have a horse.”

“No, I suppose not.” He frowned down at the pie on his plate as if it were to blame for her lack of suitable attire. “Have you a gown you could use as a habit?”

Anna mentally ran through her meager wardrobe. “I could alter an old one.”

“Excellent. Wear it tomorrow and I shall give you an elementary riding lesson. It shouldn’t be too hard. We’ll not be riding very far.”

“Oh, but, my lord,” Anna protested, “I don’t want to put you to any trouble. I can ask one of the grooms to help me learn.”

“No.” He glared at her. “I will teach you to ride.”

Overbearing man. She pursed her lips and refrained from a reply, sipping her tea instead.

The earl finished his pie in two more bites and pushed back his chair. “I’ll see you before you leave this afternoon, Mrs. Wren.” With a muttered “Come,” he strode out of the room, the still-nameless dog following him.

Anna stared after the two. Was she peeved because the earl ordered her about, very much like the dog? Or touched that he insisted on teaching her to ride himself? She shrugged and finished the dregs of her tea.