Perhaps you might teach me. Annes voice perforated his vision, and he blinked to clear it from his thoughts.
He was not in Bermuda, watching the future destruction of Overburys sugar crop, but at an assembly in the viscounts Mayfair mansion. He slipped the thruppence into his pocket. I can. Later. Whos that nob over there? He nodded toward a gent in embroidered satin, his coat cut unfashionably full.
Anne smothered a shocked laugh at his language. The Earl of Toombe. Hes the eldest son of the Marquess of Gough.
Rich?
Uncommonly so. Theres rumors he has thirty thousand pounds a year. His estate is in Buckinghamshire. I dont know how he votes in Parliament, she added, smiling.
Children?
Two married daughters, three sons. His oldest son is the Viscount Berrow.
A name Leo knew from the Exchange. Leo had encouraged the viscount to invest in new cotton-milling equipment, which had more than tripled the mills output. Suitably armed with information, he now eyed Berrows father.
Leo tucked Annes hand into the crook of his arm. Well talk with him. He took a stride forward, then stopped when he noticed Anne staying rooted to the spot.
We cannot simply walk up to him and start a conversation, she protested. Not even to perform some legerdemain.
Why the devil not?
I only know Lord Toombe by reputation, but Ive never had a formal introduction. And our hosts tonight have not introduced us yet!
Our hosts are busy. Lord and Lady Overbury were now drinking and flirting, respectively. He tugged on Annes hand. Following ceremonial codes of conduct is idiotic. This is the modern era, not the Age of Chivalry.
Still, she looked uncertain. He might have simply towed his wife behind him, or gone on without her. But he wanted her to make the choice.
After a moments hesitation, she matched her step with his. It is rather absurd, to pretend someone doesnt exist unless you adhere to a set of outdated rules.
As they crossed the chamber together, her step grew more confident, her chin tilted higher. When Leo first saw Anne, months ago, she had been standing at the side of a chamber, much like this one, at an assembly very similar. It had been one of the few times Leo had attended such a gathering and paid any attention. He preferred wilder masquerades and revelries where the company was decidedly less virginal.
Yet something about the shy girl watching the festivities had intrigued him, even as she hung back from the entertainment and spoke only when spoken to. Then, she had been the suggestion of potential. Now, as they walked together toward the phenomenally wealthy earl, throwing off convention like dried carapaces, he could actually see her change, grow bold. She felt the eyes of the guests upon her, and she did not shrink. She soaked in their attention as if it were her due.
That night, he had seen aristocratic breeding in the fine structure of her face. This evening, her bearing came not just from bloodlines, but from action and confidence.
What was that sensation in him? That strange, rising warmth? A new kind of magic? No.
Respect. Not self-admiration, in what he could achieve or earn or buy, but appreciation of her, and that he could help fashion her metamorphosis.
He stopped in front of the earl. The older man stared at him, baffled. Leo stuck out his free hand. Lord Toombe. Leo Bailey. My wife, Anne.
The earl, still mystified, shook Leos hand, and bowed to Anne. Do I know you, sir?
Your son and I are friends. Which was not precisely true, but Leo considered
netting Berrow a handsome profit a decent foundation for friendship. A singularly intelligent fellow.
Everyone is gratified to hear their children praised, and Toombe proved no different. He smiled, self-congratulatory. He reminds me of my father, with his brains.
You are too modest, my lord, Anne said. The resemblance between Lord Berrow and yourself is remarkable. Both in appearance and acumen.
As Toombe blustered his approval, Leos admiration of his wife grew to encompass the whole of the chamber. She possessed a natural instinct for finessing a potential target, no prompting required. Catching the approbation in Leos gaze, she glowed with pride in herself.
When Leo and Anne strolled away ten minutes later, they had been invited to Toombes for dinner the following Sunday. Three other men and their wives would be attending the dinner as well, three men with expansive pockets and an untapped interest in commercial enterprise.
Annes eyes gleamed. That was ... exhilarating.
Nothing gets the blood moving like stalking ones prey. He felt his own surging, not just from hooking an invitation to a wealthy peers home, but because his wife had worked with him in perfect harmony.
Her brows rose. Prey? Is that how you see these men?
Those Suriname jungles follow the same principles. To survive, one must see everything and everyone as either a threat or sustenance.
Quite mercenary.
He slanted her a grin. Exactly. We see to our own interests. Come, he cajoled, guiding her to stand by the windows at one end of the chamber. You knew precisely what our purpose was, and you fought the battle flawlessly.