The Raven Prince (Princes #1)(58)

Mother Wren stood beside Anna and cast anxious glances at her. Anna hadn’t told her what had occurred in the stables between Edward and herself. Nor did she intend to. But her mother-in-law still sensed something was wrong. Evidently, Anna wasn’t very good at pretending cheer.

She took another grim sip of the punch. She wore her best gown. She and Fanny had spent some time over it, trying to make the alterations as neat as possible. The dress was a light apple green, and they had freshened it with the addition of white lace at the neckline. The lace also hid the modification of the neckline from a curve to the more fashionable square. Fanny, in a fit of artistic invention, had devised a rosette for Anna’s hair from some of the lace and a bit of green ribbon. Anna hardly felt festive, but it would have hurt Fanny’s feelings not to wear the rosette.

“The punch isn’t bad,” Mother Wren whispered.

Anna hadn’t noticed. She took another sip and was pleasantly surprised. “Yes. Better than rumored.”

Mother Wren fidgeted for a moment before coming up with another conversational foray. “It’s too bad Rebecca couldn’t attend.”

“I don’t see why not.”

“You know she can’t be seen at social occasions, dear, so close to her confinement. In my day, we didn’t dare set foot out of the house once we began to show.”

Anna wrinkled her nose. “It’s so silly. Everyone knows she’s increasing. It isn’t as if it’s a secret.”

“It’s the propriety that matters, not what everyone knows. Besides, Rebecca is so far along, I don’t think she would like to stand for hours. There are never enough seats at these dances.” Mother Wren looked around the room. “Do you think your earl will come?”

“He’s not my earl, as you well know,” Anna said somewhat bitterly.

Mother Wren glanced at her sharply.

Anna tried to modulate her tone. “I told him that I thought it a good idea for him to attend the soiree.”

“I hope he comes before the dancing commences. I do like to see a fine, manly figure on the dance floor.”

“He mayn’t come at all, and then you’ll have to be content with Mr. Merriweather’s form on the dance floor.” Anna gestured with her cup to that gentleman, standing across the room.

Both women looked at Mr. Merriweather, a skeletal gentleman with knock-knees, who was talking to a substantial matron in a peach-colored frock. As they watched, Mr. Merriweather leaned closer to make a point and absentmindedly tilted his punch cup. A thin stream of liquid trickled down the décolletage of the lady’s dress.

Mother Wren shook her head sadly.

“Do you know,” Anna said thoughtfully, “I’m not sure Mr. Merriweather has ever made it through a reel without losing his place.”

Mother Wren sighed. Then she glanced over Anna’s shoulder at the door and visibly brightened. “I don’t think I’ll have to make do with Mr. Merriweather after all. There’s your earl at the door.”

Anna turned to view the entrance to the dance room and raised her cup to her lips. For a moment, she forgot it there as she caught sight of Edward. He wore black knee breeches with a sapphire coat and waistcoat. His black hair, brushed in an uncharacteristically neat queue, gleamed like a bird’s wing in the candlelight. He stood nearly a head taller than any other man in the room. Felicity was plainly delighted with her luck at being the first to entice the elusive earl into a social setting. She had a firm hand on his elbow and was introducing Edward to anyone within speaking distance.

Anna smiled wryly. Edward’s shoulders were bunched, and his expression was grim. Even across the room, she could tell that he was holding on to his temper by a thread. He looked to be in danger of making the faux pas of walking away from his hostess. He glanced up at that moment and caught her eye.

She sucked in her breath at the contact. Impossible to read his expression.

He turned back to Felicity and said something, then began to make his way through the crowd toward Anna. She felt liquid coolness on her wrist and glanced down. Her hand was trembling so hard she was sloshing the remains of the punch on her arm. Anna clasped her other hand around the cup to steady it. For an instant, she came close to bolting, but Mother Wren was right beside her. And she’d have to face him again sometime.

Felicity must have signaled the musicians. The violins let out a shriek.

“Ah, Mrs. Wren. A pleasure to meet you again.” Edward bowed over Mother Wren’s hand. He didn’t smile.

Her mother-in-law didn’t seem to care. “Oh, my lord, I’m so glad you could attend. Anna has been dying to dance.” Mother Wren lifted her eyebrows meaningfully.

Anna wished she had bolted when she’d had the chance.

The broad hint hung there in the air between them for an uncomfortably long time before Edward spoke. “If you would do me the pleasure?”

He didn’t even look at her. For goodness sake, he had been the one to kiss her!

Anna pursed her lips. “I didn’t know you danced, my lord.”

Edward’s gaze snapped around to her. “Of course I can dance. I am an earl after all.”

“As if I’d forget that,” she muttered.

Edward narrowed his obsidian eyes.

Ha! She certainly had his attention now.

He held out a gloved hand, and she demurely placed her own in it. Even with two layers of fabric between their palms, she could feel his body heat. For a moment, she remembered what it was like to run her fingertips down his nude back. Hot. Sweaty. Achingly good. She swallowed.