Chapter 33：IDLE PLEASANTRIES [II]

He pushed up from his chair and crossed the room to the door, limping heavily. Last night had been more taxing than he had realized until he tried to crawl out of bed this morning. Of course, his primary concern during the dinner party had been Annie and not the undeniable strain of that unaccustomed outing. It hadn't been until today that he'd realized what a price he would pay for all the standing he had done last night.

After he had dispatched Date's butler to ask Annie to join them, he turned and found Travener's eyes on him. Ian wondered if his guest had watched that journey to the door, and if so whether he was about to be treated to more flattery or, even worse, to more unwanted sympathy.

Luckily, however, this time Travener held his tongue about Ian's 'sacrifices'. They spent a few minutes conversing in idle pleasantries about Lady Laud's party before Annie opened the door.

Her morning gown was the colour of the sea where the waters are deep and cold. That muted shade of grey-green set off the pale porcelain of her skin and seemed to soften the red in her curls, which had been dressed very simply today.

"Mr Travener," she said, with a note of what appeared to be genuine delight in her voice. "How very kind of you to call."

Doyle jumped up from his chair and met her halfway across the room. He eagerly took her outstretched hand, bringing it almost to his lips.

"I told you that I should," he said. "If you guardian gave me permission. As he very graciously has, I'm pleased to say."

"Indeed you did tell me. Has Mr Sinclair been sharing boot-blacking recipes with you?" Annie asked. "He has a very good one from his brother, I understand. I told him you might be interested in acquiring it."

When Annie's eyes touched on Ian's, he realized they were sparkling with amusement. It was exactly as if the two of them shared a private joke—a joke at earnest Mr Travener's expense.

There was no doubt Annie's teasing was deliberate. And no doubt Travener was aware he was being teased, Ian realized, watching the slow rise of pink above Travener's stiff white collar.

"We haven't become quite that well acquainted yet," Ian said, feeling a brief sympathy for Annie's gentleman caller.

She held his eyes for a fraction of a second before she turned back to give Travener a friendly smile, her natural kindness destroying any isolation he might feel. She gently freed her fingers from his grasp, however, and the blush spread upward into the visitor's cheeks.

"Mr Travener has his carriage outside," Ian said. "I believe he would like to take you for a drive."

"The greys?" Annie asked.

"You remembered," Travener said happily.

"Of course," she said. "I remember everything you told me."

"Then..."

"With your permission," Annie said, looking at Ian.

He wanted to say no. Actually, he had been hoping Annie would say it for him. And yet there was no reason why she should. This was why he had brought her to London—so that she could meet someone exactly like Doyle Travener.

This was part of the responsibility he had accepted when he had agreed to be her guardian. He had known that intellectually, of course, but it did not make the reality of sending Annie off on someone else's arm easier to bear.

"Of course," he said.

She smiled at him before she turned her gaze back to her visitor. "I'm afraid it must be a short drive, Mr. Travener. I'm accompanying Lady Laud to a musicale later this afternoon."

"I shall be grateful for whatever time you can spare."

"I'll get my wrap," Annie said. "Perhaps you can convince Mr Sinclair to accompany us. A quick turn about the park in this glorious sunshine would do us all good."

Ian could imagine Travener's inward response to that suggestion. Whatever Doyle felt about Annie's invitation, however, he hid it well as he quickly turned to Ian and added his second. He even managed to make it sound sincere.

"We should be honoured if you would accompany us, sir."

"Not today, thank you," Ian said.

"Perhaps you will join us one day when you are feeling more the thing," Travener said, his relief almost palpable.

"I shall wait for you in the hall, Miss Darlington. I want to step out and make sure my tiger is walking the horses. Major Sinclair," he said, bowing slightly.

"I think since it has been so very long since I was Major Sinclair," Ian said, "We might do better without the title."

Whatever Travener's intent, the phrase 'when you are feeling more the thing' had grated.

"Of course," Travener said. "Using your title was simply a sign of my respect, sir, I assure you, but if you prefer..."