Read Online Practically Wicked by Alissa Johnson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alissa Johnson
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Anover House, and the moment she did arrive they were swept off to the continent, or Australia or the Americas, or to wherever the devil it was the Haverstons swept their unwanted bastard children. God, she hoped it wasn’t to the bottom of a local lake.
The morbid thought was just ridiculous enough to snap her back to her senses. For goodness sake, she wasn’t going to suffer violence at the hands of the marquess. Her screaming nerves and wild imagination were naught more than an overreaction to the strains of the past fortnight.
They hadn’t slipped away in the dead of night; they’d left at dawn. And her exchanges with the marquess over the last week had been perfectly civil. There was no reason to believe the man was an ogre in person.
Really, all she needed to concern herself over was how to make herself agreeable to a perfectly courteous man, which shouldn’t be too terribly difficult. She’d had a lifetime of facing the judgment of strangers, courteous and otherwise, and she’d muddled along well enough.
Surely she could muddle along just as well for an hour or two at Caldwell Manor. She could smile and curtsy and swallow her fear and pride this one last time, and then she would be free.
Probably…Maybe…Blast it, this was different. Vastly different. Smiles and curtsies were, most often, all that had been expected of her at Anover House. The marquess would expect her to speak. He would expect her to converse .
In the whole of her life, she had conversed with only one other gentleman. And he’d not sought the experience out a second time.
A bubble of nervous laughter escaped before she could tamp it down. “This is madness .”
Next to her, Mrs. Culpepper stirred, pushing her bonnet out of her face. “What is it, dear?”
“Nothing, I…” Anna trailed off as she glanced over and saw that her companion’s skin had gone from green to gray sometime in the last hour. “Mrs. Culpepper, are you all right?”
Mrs. Culpepper waved a large hand. “Quite. Good heavens, have we arrived?”
As if to answer the question, the carriage rolled to a stop. “It would appear we have.”
“For pity’s sake, child,” Mrs. Culpepper gasped and began a frantic bid to right her appearance, “why did you not wake me earlier?”
As there was little to be gained in explaining that she had, in fact, attempted to rouse Mrs. Culpepper on two separate occasions, Anna turned her attention out the window instead and came to the startling realization that Caldwell Manor was rather lovely up close.
She’d not expected a peer’s country estate to be lovely. She’d expected grand and imposing. The house may have laid some claim to the first, particularly at a distance, with its stone façade and impressive size, but she could see now that the severe lines of its three stories were softened by gently arched windows, cheerful blue shutters, and the somewhat awkward and whimsical addition of a small turret at the back corner of the house. What might have been an austere entrance was brightened by the inclusion of potted plants at the front doors and colorful flowers along the base of the portico.
Almost, it appeared inviting. Almost .
Waiting on that portico was Lucien Haverston, the Marquess of Engsly…along with a goodly number of his staff, which was most odd.
“Why on earth would he—?”
Anna snapped her mouth closed when the carriage door swung open and a footman appeared, ready to assist her down.
She blinked at him, at the harsh sunlight beyond the carriage, and at the almost-but-not-quite-welcoming front portico.
And suddenly, she wished the front lawn had been a little larger, the drive a little longer.
“Chin up,” Mrs. Culpepper advised in a whisper. “Shoulders back and eyes straight ahead.”
It was the advice Mrs. Culpepper always delivered before Anna was forced to make an appearance for her mother. The familiarity of it gave her the courage to step from the carriage.
After a moment’s
The morbid thought was just ridiculous enough to snap her back to her senses. For goodness sake, she wasn’t going to suffer violence at the hands of the marquess. Her screaming nerves and wild imagination were naught more than an overreaction to the strains of the past fortnight.
They hadn’t slipped away in the dead of night; they’d left at dawn. And her exchanges with the marquess over the last week had been perfectly civil. There was no reason to believe the man was an ogre in person.
Really, all she needed to concern herself over was how to make herself agreeable to a perfectly courteous man, which shouldn’t be too terribly difficult. She’d had a lifetime of facing the judgment of strangers, courteous and otherwise, and she’d muddled along well enough.
Surely she could muddle along just as well for an hour or two at Caldwell Manor. She could smile and curtsy and swallow her fear and pride this one last time, and then she would be free.
Probably…Maybe…Blast it, this was different. Vastly different. Smiles and curtsies were, most often, all that had been expected of her at Anover House. The marquess would expect her to speak. He would expect her to converse .
In the whole of her life, she had conversed with only one other gentleman. And he’d not sought the experience out a second time.
A bubble of nervous laughter escaped before she could tamp it down. “This is madness .”
Next to her, Mrs. Culpepper stirred, pushing her bonnet out of her face. “What is it, dear?”
“Nothing, I…” Anna trailed off as she glanced over and saw that her companion’s skin had gone from green to gray sometime in the last hour. “Mrs. Culpepper, are you all right?”
Mrs. Culpepper waved a large hand. “Quite. Good heavens, have we arrived?”
As if to answer the question, the carriage rolled to a stop. “It would appear we have.”
“For pity’s sake, child,” Mrs. Culpepper gasped and began a frantic bid to right her appearance, “why did you not wake me earlier?”
As there was little to be gained in explaining that she had, in fact, attempted to rouse Mrs. Culpepper on two separate occasions, Anna turned her attention out the window instead and came to the startling realization that Caldwell Manor was rather lovely up close.
She’d not expected a peer’s country estate to be lovely. She’d expected grand and imposing. The house may have laid some claim to the first, particularly at a distance, with its stone façade and impressive size, but she could see now that the severe lines of its three stories were softened by gently arched windows, cheerful blue shutters, and the somewhat awkward and whimsical addition of a small turret at the back corner of the house. What might have been an austere entrance was brightened by the inclusion of potted plants at the front doors and colorful flowers along the base of the portico.
Almost, it appeared inviting. Almost .
Waiting on that portico was Lucien Haverston, the Marquess of Engsly…along with a goodly number of his staff, which was most odd.
“Why on earth would he—?”
Anna snapped her mouth closed when the carriage door swung open and a footman appeared, ready to assist her down.
She blinked at him, at the harsh sunlight beyond the carriage, and at the almost-but-not-quite-welcoming front portico.
And suddenly, she wished the front lawn had been a little larger, the drive a little longer.
“Chin up,” Mrs. Culpepper advised in a whisper. “Shoulders back and eyes straight ahead.”
It was the advice Mrs. Culpepper always delivered before Anna was forced to make an appearance for her mother. The familiarity of it gave her the courage to step from the carriage.
After a moment’s
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