Annie's Perfect Husband

"Elizabeth asked me to remind you that you have a fitting today," Ian said. "I suppose that in the rush of packing she forgot to mention it to you last night."

A fitting for her ball gown, and without his reminder Annie knew she would never have remembered that appointment. There had been too many other things to think about.

She had not gone downstairs again after she had said goodbye to Elizabeth. And she had spent most of last night and this morning with the conversations of the previous evening running endlessly through her mind. To the exclusion of almost any other thought.

"A fitting for my ball gown," she said, willing herself to look up. "I had forgotten."

Ian was standing in the doorway, his wide shoulders nearly filling it. He was dressed in a jacket of navy superfine and fawn pantaloons. The sunlight glinted off the highly polished leather of his boots and added highlights to the chestnut hair.

And despite what Elizabeth had told her, seeing him there produced again that peculiar hesitation in the normal rhythm of her heart. She forced her eyes away, afraid of what he might see within them, and focused once more on the letter she had been writing to Mrs Kemp.

He seemed less tired, she thought, superimposing his features over the girlishly rounded script she was pretending to pursue. At least his face was not so strained as it had been when she had found him asleep in his chair yesterday afternoon.

She hoped that was because he had no cause to toss and turn last night. She prayed that whatever had given her secret away to Elizabeth had not been obvious to her guardian because she knew Ian would be troubled by her infatuation.

However, since she had acknowledged the depth of her feelings—which were much more than an infatuation, of course—it somehow seemed harder to ignore them. And more difficult to put him away from her mind. Her eyes seemed drawn to him whenever they were in the same room.

"Would you like me to accompany you?" Ian asked. "Since Elizabeth isn't here. She seemed concerned that someone should give final approval of the dress."

"And she didn't trust me to do that," Annie said, her eyes still resolutely on her letter.

'They treat me like a child,' she thought. Of course, they had from the beginning, and nothing was likely to change.

She took a breath, fighting that silly resentment. Because she was a child, certainly in terms of experience. If she compared what she knew about life with what Ian and Elizabeth had been forced to learn, she supposed she would have a hard time arguing she wasn't.

"I'm sure that isn't what she meant to imply," Ian said.

"Then what did she mean?" Annie asked.

She finally lifted her eyes to his and was surprised to see something within them that she had never seen there. Before she could begin to identify the emotion, however, it was gone. Controlled. Or destroyed.

Had Elizabeth betrayed her? She wondered with a stab of anxiety. And then reassured herself that the Countess would never have broken her confidence. Whatever change had been wrought in her relationship with her guardian would have to be laid at her own door, quite possibly because she had so foolishly decided yesterday that she had only to let him know what she felt, and then she had believed he would...

Would what? she wondered. She wasn't sure what she had expected to happen when she had made that decision. In any case, in light of Elizabeth's revelation, it didn't matter now.

Objectively observe. Which certainly seemed clear enough.

"And that is what you propose to do?" she asked.

"Unless you have some objections."

"Why should I? You have the right to oversee your investment."

His head tilted, as if he was considering her tone. "You believe I'm concerned about my... investment?"

"I mean no disrespect, I assure you, but you have invested heavily in the success of my Season. It's only natural that you should be concerned with the effect of what you have spent."