The Raven Prince (Princes #1)(49)

Not that he let it show. Edward raised a brow and tried to put his secretary in her place. “I have done nothing to my face, thank you, Mrs. Wren.”

It had no noticeable effect.

“You can’t call that black eye and the bruises on your jaw nothing.” Anna looked disapproving. “Have you put any salve on it yet?”

She sat in her usual place at the small rosewood desk in his library. She looked serene and golden in the morning light from the window, as if she hadn’t moved from the desk the entire time he had been in London. It was a strangely comforting thought. Edward noted that she had a small smudge of ink on her chin.

And something was different about her appearance.

“I haven’t used any salve, Mrs. Wren, because there is no reason to.” He tried to walk the remaining feet to his desk without limping.

Naturally, she noticed that, too. “And your leg! Why are you limping, my lord?”

“I am not limping.”

She arched her eyebrows so high, they nearly disappeared into her hairline.

Edward was forced to glare in order to emphasize the lie. He tried to think of an explanation for his injuries that wouldn’t make him look a total fool. He certainly couldn’t tell his little secretary that he’d been in a brawl at a brothel.

What was it about her appearance?

“Did you have an accident?” she asked before he could think of a suitable excuse.

He seized on the suggestion. “Yes, an accident.” Something about her hair… A new style, perhaps?

His respite was brief.

“Did you fall off your horse?”

“No!” Edward strove to lower his voice and had a sudden inspiration. He could see her hair. “No, I didn’t fall off my horse. Where is your cap?”

As a distraction, it failed abysmally.

“I’ve decided not to wear it any longer,” she said primly. “If you didn’t fall off your horse, then what did happen to you?”

The woman would have been an outstanding success with the inquisition.

“I…” For the life of him, he could not think of a suitable story.

Anna looked worried. “Your carriage didn’t overturn, did it?”

“No.”

“Were you run down by a cart in London? I hear the streets are terribly crowded.”

“No. I wasn’t run down by a cart either.” He tried to smile charmingly. “I like you without your cap. Your tresses shine like a field of daisies.”

Anna narrowed her eyes. Perhaps he hadn’t any charm. “I wasn’t aware that daisies were brown. Are you sure you didn’t fall off your horse?”

Edward gritted his teeth and prayed for forbearance. “I did not fall off my horse. I have never—”

She raised one brow.

“Hardly ever been unseated from my horse.”

A swift expression of enlightenment came over her features. “It’s all right, you know,” she said in an unbearably understanding voice. “Even the best horsemen fall off their mounts sometimes. It is nothing to be ashamed of.”

Edward got up from his desk, limped across to hers, and placed both hands, palms down, upon it. He leaned over until his eyes were only inches from her hazel ones. “I am not ashamed,” he said very slowly. “I did not fall off my horse. I was not thrown from my horse. I wish to end this discussion. Is that amenable to you, Mrs. Wren?”

Anna swallowed visibly, drawing his eyes to her throat. “Yes. Yes, that’s quite amenable to me, Lord Swartingham.”

“Good.” His gaze rose to her lips, wet where she had licked them in her nervousness. “I thought of you while I was gone. Did you think of me? Did you miss me?”

“I—” she started to whisper.

Hopple breezed into the room. “Welcome back, my lord. I hope your sojourn in our lovely capital was pleasant?” The steward came to a halt when he noticed Edward’s stance over Anna.

Edward slowly straightened, his eyes never leaving Anna. “My stay was pleasant enough, Hopple, although I found I missed the… loveliness of the country.”

Anna looked flustered.

Edward smiled.

Mr. Hopple started. “Lord Swartingham! Whatever happened to—?”

Anna cut him off. “Mr. Hopple, have you time to show the earl the new ditch?”

“The ditch? But—” Hopple looked from Edward to Anna.

Anna twitched her eyebrows as if a fly had landed on her forehead. “The new ditch to drain Mr. Grundle’s field. You did mention it the other day.”

“The… Oh, yes, Farmer Grundle’s ditch,” Hopple said. “If you will come with me, my lord, I think you’ll be interested in inspecting it.”

Edward’s eyes were back on Anna. “I’ll meet with you in half an hour, Hopple. I’ve something I wish to discuss with my secretary first.”

“Oh, yes. Yes. Er, very well, my lord.” Hopple departed, looking befuddled.

“What was it you wished to discuss with me, my lord?” she asked.

Edward cleared his throat. “Actually, there’s something I want to show you. If you’ll come with me?”

Anna appeared mystified but stood and took his arm. He led her out to the hall, turning to the back door instead of the front. When they stepped into the kitchen, Cook nearly dropped her morning cup of tea. Three maids were clustered by the table where Cook sat, like acolytes around their priest. All four females came to their feet.