Chapter Eleven
With the pillow stolen from the guest chambers pressed to his cheek, Warren lay on his side waiting for sleep to claim him, except Olivia’s scent had his mind remembering her curves and his body aching for her warmth. He flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. What a damned fool I’ve been. For years, he’d prided himself on his patience, yet he had taken the woman he needed to cherish for life to bed at the very first opportunity. It was as if the moment he’d seen his signet ring, his desire to claim Olivia was all that consumed his thoughts and actions. Bedding a woman before wedlock was not the actions of a man who was serious about courting a lady. Why am I not riddled with guilt, or am I?
Warren sat up to lean against his oversized headboard, the cool wood waking him further. Since sleep was not likely to occur, he swung his legs over the side, hopped out of bed, and hastily donned a lawn shirt and trousers. Nine days. He should court Olivia as he would any other, take her to the Royal Exhibit, or for a stroll in Hyde Park.
“Are you daft? You are courting O-liv-i-a, not some chit from the school room.” Anne’s annoying voice rang in his head.
He reached for the lit gas lamp on the side table. Anne was right. A plan was what he needed to ensure he wouldn’t waste the next nine days. Holding the lamp, he left his chamber and headed for his study. As he opened his door, the creak of wood down the hall had him peering in the opposite direction. His mama and Anne should have been fast asleep. Aside from him, who could be wandering about at this late hour? Creeping down the hall, Warren tread carefully until the click of a door latch falling into place halted him before Anne’s door. What was she up to now? He raised his hand to rap on the door. Knuckles hovering but an inch away, he paused. Anne had been acting suspiciously since her return. She was keeping secrets from him, and he didn’t like it, but he also knew Anne would share only when she was good and ready and not a moment sooner.
Warren lowered his hand and pressed his ear to the wood panel instead. Silence. Not even the barest hint of movement within, until he heard the simultaneous groan of a man and thump of what sounded like a book. He reached for the doorknob, but with the door latch in place, the wood panel barely moved as Warren pummeled his shoulder into it.
“Anne! Open the door at once,” he yelled.
His weight propelled him into Anne’s chambers as the door swung open. Stumbling as if he’d consumed half a bottle of brandy, Warren righted himself only to come face-to-face with Ian who was rubbing the back of his head. What in the heavens is the footman doing in Anne’s chambers?
Brow knitted, Anne asked, “Why were you at my door?”
“What is he doing here?” Warren retorted, pointing to Ian.
“I asked him to come.” Anne shook her head. “Actually, I begged him for his assistance.”
“Why would you seek out his help and not mine?” Anger roared through Warren. Ian had done nothing, yet the man made him feel inadequate, useless, and worst of all, pitiful.
“Lord Guernsey.” Ian bowed as he slowly rose to his full height that matched Warren’s. “Lady Anne, I apologize for my unconventional arrival.” His gaze flickering to the open window. “However, I was following your instructions to be discreate.”
Anne strode up to Warren and attempted to turn him about to face the door. “Out. I need to speak with him in private.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Warren dug his heels in, and despite Anne’s strength, he didn’t move an inch further.
“Fine.” Anne sighed and then turned her attention to the footman who didn’t look the least bit flustered. “My apologies for maiming. I thought you were…” She glanced back over her shoulder at Warren before finishing her sentence, “Were someone else…A thief!” Her extra emphasis on thief told Warren all he needed to know. Anne was lying.
“Apology accepted.” Ian graciously countered but his gaze remained on Warren throughout the exchange.
Anne waved a hand in front of Ian. “Don’t mind him.”
Ian blinked and redirected his gaze. “I came to tell you that you should seek assistance from another.”
“Another?” Anne’s hands fisted at her side before she firmly planted them on her hips. The woman could pack a solid punch when she wanted. Warren unconsciously rubbed his shoulder and waited to see what Anne would say next. “One doesn’t simply go out and recruit men. I’ve spent a pretty penny vetting you and, by all accounts, you are the only one who can help me.”
“What could he possibly help you with that I cannot?” Warren blurted. His lifelong friend whirled about, and her expression silenced him immediately. Hands up in the air in surrender, Warren added, “Never mind. I’ll stay out of your affairs.”
Anne took a step closer to Ian, and the footman wisely took a step back.
“Are you afraid of me?” Anne asked.
“I can see now that I shouldn’t have come.” Ian’s gaze flicked to Warren before returning to Anne. “Except Olivia shared with me that you only showed her kindness and concern earlier, and I felt it only right that I come and give you my answer in person.”
“Ahh… so I owe Olivia yet another boon,” Anne said, this time with the telltale sparkle that Warren shot a warning look over at Ian. The footman needed to tread carefully, or he too would become entangled in one of Anne’s intricate schemes.
As if fully understanding Warren’s signal, Ian bowed. “I shall take my leave now, Lady Anne. Lord Guernsey.”
“Not so fast,” Anne said, and this time, closed the space between her and Ian. “Despite your refusal, I sense there might be room for negotiation.”
With no space behind him to retreat, Ian remained rooted to the spot. “I can’t be of help, my lady.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Anne countered.
Warren wanted to advise Ian to simply give in, but the man was as likely to heed his advice as Anne was, which was not likely at all. He studied Ian closely as Anne paced in front of the now-cornered footman. There was an aura, a likeability, about Ian that irked Warren. Ian definitely had an effect upon women, not in a rakish manner, but the man had gained the respect of both Olivia and Anne, and both ladies were not the type to trust others easily.