should they affect her so strongly?
Mrs. Brandon had murmured her daughterâs name and Anabelâs. Now she added, âSir Charles Norbury,â in a voice thick with disapproval and concern. She had moved close to Juliaâs side, and her stance made it clear that nothing would move her until she could coax the girl away.
Anabel saw in Norburyâs eyes an appreciation of the situation that matched her own. A silent current of amusement passed between them. âWyndham,â he said. âI knew a Julian Wyndham at Oxford.â
âMy husbandâs cousin,â replied Anabel.
âAh.â There was a subtle shift in his gaze.
âMy dear Lady Wyndham,â exclaimed Mrs. Brandon. âI did not even mention your sad loss. I beg your pardon. It was such a shock, Sir Ralph going off that way. Julia was much affected, werenât you, dear?â
Julia, whose entire attention remained on Norbury, didnât appear to hear.
âYou are very kind,â replied Anabel. âIt has been three years now, and so we are over it, as much as we ever shall be.â Mrs. Brandon nodded sympathetically, and Anabel was a little surprised to realize that this now-familiar platitude was quite true. In the country, with her family and surrounded by objects that recalled Ralph, she had not really felt the fading of grief. Here it was clearer.
âOh, Julia, there is Maria Kingsley, and her daughter, I believe. Come, we must speak to them.â She took Juliaâs arm and urged her away. âYou will excuse us?â
Their murmured responses, and Juliaâs frown, were swept aside in Mrs. Brandonâs determined retreat. Anabel wondered again why she was so eager to get away.
âMy fault, Iâm afraid,â said Sir Charles Norbury.
âI beg your pardon?â
âThe abrupt departure. Iâm not considered a proper companion for young girls just out of the schoolroom.â He smiled, teeth startlingly white against his dark skin. âThank God.â
Anabel couldnât help smiling back, though she was startled by his apparent reading of her thoughts and by his remarks.
âWhy not?â she couldnât resist asking.
He laughed a little. âIâll leave it to others to malign my character, I think. Will you dance?â
The ball had opened in a rather disorganized way as they talked, and now a new set was forming. Anabel, intrigued, nodded and put a hand on his arm. She was a little disconcerted to find that it was a waltz.
âYou havenât been up to London before,â said Norbury when they were circling the floor together.
âNo. We always preferred the country.â It seemed to Anabel that he was disturbingly close. She had waltzed at local assemblies countless times, but somehow this was different. Norburyâs arm about her waist and firm clasp of her hand seemed to make it a new experience, and she felt foolishly younger than her years.
âReally?â He treated it as a joke, and Anabel was too preoccupied with her own odd sensations to correct him. âBut you must have spent at least one season here. Perhaps we even met? Yes, I must have danced with you. My taste has always been impeccable.â He smiled down at her, his light green eyes glinting.
âNo. I married out of the schoolroom.â She felt it a clumsy reply, and was again amazed at herself. What was making her so inept? Ralph had always called her a wit.
âThat accounts for it, then.â Sir Charles was still smiling.
âFor what?â
âYou are quite the youngest and loveliest widow I have ever encountered, Lady Wyndham.â
âWidow,â she echoed distastefully. âHow I hate that word. It makes one think ofâ¦â
âPrecisely. But you confound all the clichés delightfully.â
Anabel had never met anyone who anticipated her in this way. It had always been she who surprised and amused her circle, her