A Chance to Kiss the Marquess (Charmed By Chance #3)

Chapter 2

2

A nn was not jealous.

She told herself this no less than three times as she listened quietly to two of her friends discussing their wedding plans.

As she reached for her tea she reminded herself for the fourth time that she was most definitely not jealous of Meg and Jane, and the fact that they’d gone and fallen in love with their fiancés. It was merely that she couldn’t seem to escape talk of marriage these days.

Her friend Felicity was the one who finally said it. “Might we talk of something else, just for a little while?” She gave Meg and Jane a pleading look, complete with clasped hands. “You know Ann and I are delighted for your happiness, but poor Ann must be up to her ears in wedding plans with her own sister’s approaching so soon.”

“Oh yes!” Meg brightened. Her long brown hair was pulled up in an elegant coiffure that gave Ann a glimpse of the sort of beautiful, refined duchess she’d be once she and Carver were wed. “How is Franny doing?”

“Is she nervous for the big day?” Jane’s quiet voice gave her away. Clearly she was nervous about her own wedding. Though they all knew it wasn’t because she was nervous about being a wife to the Earl. More like, she was dreading being the center of attention on her wedding day.

As always, Ann had to stop and think through what she was going to say. “She’s not so much nervous as she is…impatient.”

That was putting it mildly.

“Who could blame her?” Felicity reached for her tea as well. “She and Rodrick have been engaged forever.”

They were gathered in the parlor of Felicity’s great uncle’s house—Felicity and her chaperone’s home for the Season. It might have been a stodgy, quiet old manor if Felicity hadn’t brought with her the sort of impetuous exuberance that managed to brighten even the oldest and curmudgeonly of estates.

“Felicity is right.” Meg reached across the settee to squeeze Ann’s hand. “You must be tired of wedding talk.”

Ann shrugged. Not the most elegant of gestures, but she’d learned long ago that if one could make a point just as effectively without speaking, then that was clearly the better option.

For as long as she could remember, talking had been difficult for her. Stumbling over her words, the inability to get them from her mind to her lips was a never ending battle. And it was made all the more frustrating because it seemed to come so easily to everyone else.

But for Ann it was as though a piece was missing…and unfortunately, it was the one that linked to her mouth.

It wasn’t fair that what came so easily to everyone else had been such hard work for her, but she’d stopped ranting and railing about the unfairness of life before she’d even left the nursery.

Life wasn’t fair and no one person could have their every wish come true. This much she understood. And as she had a roof over her head, a family who loved her, and the best friends a girl could ask for, she reasoned that perhaps difficulty speaking was a small price to pay.

“What will you be wearing to your sister’s wedding?” Meg asked.

Ann smiled. She did not care much about fashion, but she appreciated Meg’s attempt to include her in the conversation.

Though truly, she did not begrudge Meg or Jane their happiness, nor their excitement over their own future wedded bliss. But while she was most decidedly not jealous, it was rather difficult to be surrounded by such talk at all times and not feel just a little more… aware of one's own lack of prospects.

Ann did her best to match the other girls’ excitement regarding her gown, but her heart was not in it.

“What’s the matter, Ann?” It was Jane who’d noticed her shift in mood.

Not surprising. Jane was nothing if not attuned with her emotions—and everyone else’s. Perhaps years of reading romantic novels were responsible.

Meg leaned toward her. “Were we so very irritating with our talk of weddings? I am sorry?—”

“No.” Ann waved a hand. “Of course not. I am glad that you’re both so happy.”

Felicity, as usually, spoke plainly, and on her behalf. “But you are not.”

Ann opened her mouth to protest, particularly when she caught the concern in Meg and Jane’s expressions. But with a sigh, she admitted, “Not particularly.”

Before anyone could launch into questions, she held up a hand and took a deep breath. “I’m all right. Really. It’s just…”

The others waited patiently. And this right here was why her friends were so very dear. They never prompted or showed any sign of frustration when she had to stop talking to gather her wits, or start from the beginning to get a phrase right. Now, she thought through how to put into words what she’d been feeling of late. “I do not have dreams of some great romance, of course…” The others nodded. They often teased her for her pragmatism on this particular topic. “But with Franny to wed, and now you two so happily matched, I find I wish…”

Felicity met her gaze, her lips curving up in a smile that reassured her.

Ann could say anything here with these three, that’s what her smile said.

Ann sighed. “I fear I might never find anyone who sees me…like that.”

“Like a wife?” Meg guessed.

She tipped her head from side to side. “Like a woman.”

“Ah,” Jane murmured her response, and there was true understanding in her eyes.

As Franny’s younger sister, and a petite, freckled, pitiful one at that, every young man of their acquaintance tended to see her as…

Well, a little sister. She was the same age as every other young lady on the marriage mart, but no gentleman seemed to understand that she was fully grown. How was she ever to find a husband when everyone thought of her as a little sister?

“I know what you need.” Felicity’s eyes sparkled with such mischief, anyone in her right mind would be frightened.

And Ann certainly was.

“A dare,” Felicity finished with a smug grin.

“A d-dare?” Blast. Ann gritted her teeth in annoyance as she stumbled over the word. D words tended to still be an issue. Out of habit, she slid a hand into the pocket of her gown and clutched the little book there so she might put her frustration down on paper.

And, as usual, she frowned when she felt the still unfamiliar edges of this new diary.

She’d used the same one for so many years that she still wasn’t quite accustomed to this new notebook, though she’d been carrying it with her for months now.

Ever since that house party.

As always, fear niggled when she thought about what had become of her diary.

She would have sworn she’d had it in the library, but when she’d gone back to find it, it had been gone. She’d searched high and low.

Her sister was certain a maid must have found it and put it on one of the book shelves.

She was probably right. But the thought of it floating around the Duke’s home somewhere made her belly flutter with nerves.

“Our game of challenges hasn’t failed us yet, has it?” Felicity demanded.

Ann blinked, her attention abruptly back on the topic at hand.

Meg and Jane exchanged looks, but they certainly couldn’t deny it. It was that silly game of dares that had led them both to their happy state—albeit not without a good amount of tears and drama along the way.

“W-what did you have in mind?” Drat. She’d stumbled again. But in her defense, high emotions made her stuttering worse, and right now she was very much afraid of that wicked glint in Felicity’s eyes.

Felicity blew out an exasperated sigh that had one of the brown curls flying. “Don’t look so frightened. It’s only a game.”

A game. That word made her think of that house party again.

And this time it wasn’t fear that had her belly clenching. Not exactly. It was a sensation she’d yet to find a name for, but it made her heart race and her belly flutter every time she thought of that moment in the drawing room when she’d been blithely playing Blind Man’s Bluff, and then…

She swallowed hard.

“Ann, are you all right?” Meg asked.

Ann nodded and smiled. There was no way she could put into words the oddity of that moment. Of the way the air had thickened and the atmosphere had felt charged, like that moment right before a storm. With her eyes covered, she could have sworn she could feel his presence, and the heat that coiled around her, and?—

She gave her head a shake. It had been her imagination, of course.

When she’d pulled off the blindfold and seen Albright, the moment had passed.

And yet she couldn’t forget the way he’d made her feel.

Did it mean something? Was this how romantic feelings began?

Part of her wanted to ask Meg and Jane—they would know. But the conversation was already well underway. And the topic…?

What sort of challenge would help Ann overcome this hurdle.

They all spoke at once, but it was Meg who finally called out the answer. “Our dear Ann must learn how to flirt!”