The Naked King Read Free Page B

just had.
    One would think a twenty-seven-year-old spinster would have more sense, especially a woman with her experience.
    Traffic was beginning to pick up. The streets and walks had been deserted when she’d left Crane House earlier—a very good thing as she’d had to run to keep up with Harry. Of course now the stupid dog was walking sedately at Mr. Parker-Roth’s side.
    “The ton is always making up nicknames for people,” he was saying. “They’ll probably christen you and your sister as soon as you attend your first social event.”
    “I sincerely hope not.” Blast it, how was she going to navigate these treacherous social waters with only Cousin Clorinda to help her? She bit her lip. It was just like Papa and Georgiana to go off to dig in the dirt, leaving her in charge of the children. Not that Evie was a child any longer. Of course not. They wouldn’t be in this mess if she were.
    She swallowed a sigh. Thankfully, Evie was a sensible girl—but Anne had considered herself sensible once, too. All it had taken was one experienced, London rake paying her a little attention—
    Dear God, what if Brentwood was here in Town?
    No, she couldn’t be that unlucky. She’d been reading the gossip columns very carefully for weeks and had not seen his name.
    But if he were in London—
    “A penny for your thoughts, Lady Anne.”
    Her heart thudded into her throat. “I wasn’t thinking about anything.”
    “No? You looked—”
    “Oh, yes, look, here we are at Crane House.” Thank God! “What a surprise. I don’t know how we got here so quickly.” She was blathering, but if she kept talking, he couldn’t ask her questions she didn’t want to answer. “Thank you for escorting me and for taking charge of Harry. If you will just give me his leash, you can get”—she hadn’t been about to say he could get to bed, had she?—“that is, you can be about your business.” She smiled, or at least tried to, and held out her hand. If she was lucky, she would never see him again.
    Ha! She might hope she wouldn’t see him, but she was here for the whole cursed Season. She couldn’t hide in her room and send Evie to the parties and balls with only odd, elderly Cousin Clorinda as chaperone.
    Perhaps Mr. Parker-Roth would leave London tomorrow to hunt for greenery in some exotic—and very distant—location. She would add that thought to her prayers tonight.
    “Lady Anne,” he said, looking far too serious all of a sudden.
    “Mr. Parker-Roth, I should go. Cousin Clorinda and my sister must be wondering where I am.”
    She glanced up. What if someone looked out a window and saw her conversing with Mr. Parker-Roth? She and he would be quite recognizable—neither was wearing a hat. Their faces were evident for any curious spectator to see.
    Whom was she kidding? It wasn’t only her face she had to hide—her unfortunate hair was a blazing beacon, proclaiming her identity to anyone not color-blind.
    Perhaps no one would look. It was early for most of the ton . . . but Lady Dunlee lived next door and she had a nose for even the faintest whiff of scandal. Cousin Clorinda had warned Anne about the woman the moment Anne had crossed Crane House’s threshold—and Lady Dunlee herself had already stopped Anne to let her know the boys had been teasing her nasty gray cat.
    “But I never properly apologized,” Mr. Parker-Roth said. Harry sat calmly at his feet. Why wouldn’t that dog behave for her?
    “No apology is necessary. Now, please—”
    He touched her lips with his gloveless fingers. She froze.
    Oh.
    His skin was slightly rough—he clearly used his hands for more than raising a quizzing glass or shuffling cards—and warm.
    All of a sudden, she didn’t care about the windows overlooking the square.
    “I don’t want you to think you aren’t beautiful.” His fingers slipped sideways to cradle her jaw; his thumb moved back and forth over her bottom lip. “You are.”
    He was an enchanter, that was it,