Chapter 41：AND FOOLISHLY INLOVE

There was a small silence, and then Ian said, "If you don't want me to accompany you, Annie, a simple no will suffice. I assure you my offer was not prompted by a desire to make sure I'm getting my money's worth."

For the first time since she had known him, there was an edge of coldness in Ian Sinclair's voice. And it hurt her to hear it there, although she had deliberately driven this wedge between them. It might be safer for her heart to have it in place, but it was also incredibly painful.

Besides, she knew she had been unfair. Childish. Ungrateful. And foolishly in love.

"I should be very glad for your company," she said.

The words sounded stilted and a little ungracious to her ears, but the corners of Ian's mouth lifted in response. It was this same smile that had attracted her on the day she met him.

"You're missing Elizabeth," he guessed. "I should have asked her to stay, at least until you have a few more outings to your credit. I must confess, however, that when she told me about the baby..."

He broke off as Annie's mouth fell open to accommodate the quick intake of breath his unexpected announcement had required. "You didn't know," he said softly.

She shook her head, feeling for some reason as if she had been betrayed. Elizabeth was her friend. And she would have expected her to have joyfully shared this news.

That she hadn't made Annie feel even more like an outsider.

"Perhaps she thought you already knew," Ian said, obviously trying to rectify the Countess's omission.

And there had been a dozen small clues, now that she thought about it. Telltale signs Annie had never put together because she had been too concerned with her own dilemma.

"I didn't," she confessed, feeling childish again.

"I thought it safer to send Elizabeth home before..." Ian hesitated, forbidden by the dictates of the society from discussing these matters with an unmarried female.

"Before she increases," Annie said evenly.

He fought the upward tilt of his lips, eventually winning the battle, but not before she was aware of his amusement.

"I am very glad for them," Annie said, realizing belatedly that she was. She loved children, and she couldn't imagine that someone as kind as Elizabeth wouldn't also.

As for Dare... Of course, Elizabeth was very obviously in love with the Earl, so perhaps she was judging him too harshly.

"But you are also disappointed that she didn't confide in you," Ian said.

"A little," she confessed, smiling at him for the first time. She had always been able to count on Ian's understanding and sympathy. Those were important assets in a friend. And if that was all he was ever to be to her, then she should cherish them even more. "And that's foolish, I know. I am not family, after all."

"I think she wanted to tell her husband before she told anyone else. If she had sent for Dare herself, he would have suspected something, so the message that brought him was mine. And when Elizabeth asked you to help her pack last night, I thought she was making an opportunity to tell you her news."

It was possible she had been, Annie realized.

And then perhaps she had decided, as a friend, that there was something more important to tell Annie in the few minutes they would have alone. Something vital to Annie's well-being. And after the Countess had performed that final act of kindness, Annie had run away.

There had been no chance for Elizabeth to share the news about the baby.

"I shall write to her and tell her how happy I am for them," Annie said. "Perhaps one day she will need a governess and remember me," she added with another smile, this one almost teasing.

Ian laughed, seeming relieved that whatever had coloured the atmosphere when he had entered the room was no longer between them. And in all honesty, so was she.

Even if she were destined to carry an unrequited love for Ian Sinclair the rest of her days, she fervently hoped that he would never be aware of it. And unless she could pretend that nothing had changed in their relationship, he would be.

"I would welcome your opinion of the ball gown," she said. "If you are sure you won't find such an errand a dead bore."

"Italian sopranos are a dead bore. The beautiful Miss Darlington, attired in a new gown, will be a delight."

"You should give Mr Travener lessons. His turn of phrase is not nearly so pretty as that."

"Fewer moustached Portuguese grandmothers to charm in his background, I suspect. He doesn't have the practice I've had. I shall see you at three."

He turned and disappeared from the doorway, and suddenly the morning parlour seemed very empty. Annie picked up her pen again, dipping the point into the ink and carefully wiping off the excess. And then her hand hesitated before she applied it to the paper.

After a moment, she laid the pen back on the desk and picked up the letter she had begun. In it she had begged her former headmistress to write to her guardian and request that Annie be allowed to return to Fenton school.

She held it before her, reading the despairing phrases.