Brushed By Scandal. Gail Whitiker

Banks did exactly as she had been told. When Lieutenant Blokker tried to approach her, she treated him to a look that would have done her crusty old grandmother proud and then went in search of her mother. The young man looked understandably crushed, but Anna hoped it had taught him a lesson. If he truly cared for Miss Banks, he would do whatever was necessary in order to further the connection in the manner of which society approved. If not, he wasn’t worth having in the first place.

      ‘Do you attempt to save them all from themselves?’ asked an amused masculine voice close to her ear. ‘Or only the ones who don’t know any better?’

      Anna turned her head and found herself looking into the face of a stranger. A very handsome stranger, but a stranger none the less. ‘Were you speaking to me, sir?’

      ‘I was. And pray forgive my boldness, but I happened to be in the garden when you came upon the young lady, and such was my timing that I was privy to most of your conversation with her just now. She is indeed fortunate to have you as her champion.’

      His voice was velvet over steel. Resonant, powerful, the kind of voice that held audiences spellbound and sent impressionable young women swooning. Anna could imagine him reciting Shakespeare on the stage at Drury Lane, or reading love sonnets by Bryon or Wordsworth, those low, sensual tones sparking desire in any young woman’s breast.

      But was their meeting now entirely coincidental? While she thought him too old for Miss Banks and too casual in his addresses to her, the fact he had been in the garden at the same time as they had, and that he just happened to be standing next to her now, left her wondering.

      ‘I only attempt to save the ones I deem worthy of saving,’

      she replied carefully. ‘The rest I leave to their own devices.’

      ‘Just as well,’ the gentleman said. ‘Most people sin for the fun of it and wouldn’t welcome your intervention, no matter how well intentioned. Unlike Miss Banks, whose romantic heart would likely have got the better of her had you not stepped in to save the day.’

      Anna caught an undertone of amusement in his voice and, despite her natural inclination to be wary, found herself smiling back at him. He was certainly an attractive man. His face was long rather than square, his jaw angular, his cheekbones high and well formed. Intelligence gleamed in the depths of those clear grey eyes and his lips, curved upwards in a smile, were firm and disturbingly sensual. His clothes were expensive, his linen impeccable, and while his hair shone black in the light of a thousand candles, the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes put him closer to thirty than twenty.

      No, he definitely wasn’t after Miss Mercy Banks, Anna decided. He could have eaten the silly little chit for dinner and still gone away hungry. But neither was this a casual conversation, of that she was sure. ‘I am undecided as to whether I should be flattered by your comments or offended by them,’ she said. ‘I had no idea my actions were being so closely observed.’

      ‘A gentleman should never make his attentions too obvious, Lady Annabelle. I pride myself on my ability to observe without being observed—a quality necessary to those who involve themselves in the convoluted lives of others. Wouldn’t you agree?’

      Anna’s eyes widened. So, he knew who she was and what she was about. That alone should have put her on her guard, yet all it did was make her more curious. She liked a man who didn’t play games; Lord knew, London society was all too full of them. ‘I fear you have the advantage of me, sir.

      You obviously know a great deal more about me than I do about you.’

      ‘Only because you are more visible in society,’ he murmured. ‘And as much as I regret the inequity of the situation, we both know it would be ill-mannered of me to introduce myself, so I shall wait for the thing to be done properly as you have so kindly offered to do for Miss Banks.’

      His words abruptly called to mind the promise Anna had made earlier and her brows knit in consternation. ‘An offer made impetuously at best, I fear. Apart from the officer’s name, I know nothing about the man and have no idea if he is even worthy of an introduction.’

      ‘Then allow me to set your mind at rest. I happen to know that Lieutenant Giles Blokker is an amiable young man who, despite having behaved with the decorum of a rambunctious puppy, is an excellent catch. His father is Major Sir Gordon Blokker, who distinguished himself with Wellington on the Peninsula, and his mother is the former Lady Margaret Sissely. The boy was educated at Eton, went on to read English and history at Oxford, and, as his father’s only son, he is heir to a considerable estate. More importantly, I believe he is the kind of man of whom both Miss Banks’s mother and father would approve.’

      Surprised by the extent of the man’s knowledge and by his willingness to share it, Anna inclined her head. ‘I am grateful for your recommendation, sir. How fortunate that you are so well acquainted with the officer.’

      ‘In fact, we’ve never met. But one hears a great many things during the course of one’s social day, and if I feel it is information that may be of use to someone else, I am happy to pass it along. I trust that, in this instance, it serves you well. Good evening, Lady Annabelle.’

      With that, he bowed and walked away, leaving Anna with a host of unanswered questions tumbling around in her brain.

      Who was he, and why did his sudden appearance at her side not seem as coincidental as he might like her to believe? By telling her all he had about Lieutenant Blokker, he’d put her in the enviable position of being able to make the promised introduction, aware that not only might she be introducing Miss Banks to her future husband, but that he was a gentleman worthy of the role. Had he known more about the predicament in which she’d landed herself than he had chosen to let on?

      Not surprisingly, Anna found herself watching the handsome stranger as he moved around the room. She noticed that he did not linger with any one person or group for any length of time, but that his gaze touched on every person there, his expression unreadable as he took note of who they spoke to and with whom they danced. Even when he stopped to speak to an upright older gentleman who was clearly intent on engaging him in a serious conversation, his eyes continued in their restless study. Was he was a private investigator of some kind? He looked too aristocratic for such an occupation, but then, perhaps a man who didn’t look the part was exactly the sort of man who should be doing that kind of work.

      He’d certainly made an impression on her. For once she’d actually enjoyed having a conversation with a gentleman newly met at a society function. Normally, she was quick to wish them over, knowing all too well what they were really all about.

       Is this someone with whom I have anything in common? Do I feel a connection strong enough to spend the rest of my life with him? And, of course, what do we each stand to gain by aligning our families in marriage?

      They were all questions Anna had asked herself in the past. And with that one unfortunate exception where the marriage would have been a disaster, the answers were always the same.

      No, not likely, and nothing.

      But this gentleman intrigued her. She found herself watching for him in the crowd, curious to see how he acted with other people, anxious to catch just one more glimpse of him. Wanting to know if he might be looking back at her.

      And when he did and Anna felt her gaze trapped in the soft silver glow of his eyes, she knew it was too late to look away. She had carelessly exposed herself, allowing her interest in, and her curiosity about, a stranger to be revealed. Was it any wonder that when he tipped his head and slowly began to smile, she felt the heat rise in her cheeks and the breath catch in her throat?

      Goodness, who would have thought that with just one look, he could make her feel as awkward as a schoolgirl, as young and as gauche as Miss Mercy Banks. Surely as a mature woman of twenty-four, she knew better than to encourage the attentions of a man she’d only just met …

      Anna dipped her head and boldly returned his smile. No, clearly she did not. But as she opened her fan and reluctantly turned away, the knowledge that a handsome man whose name she didn’t