Anne sat up straighter. Perhaps it wouldn’t be terrible after all.
“Oh, yes,” Jane said, prompting Anne to look over at her again. Now she was helping? And why? What did she know about Bowles? Anne felt a moment’s panic.
“Mr. Bowles has two sisters with whom I’ve become acquainted, Lady Rockbourne and Mrs. Sheffield.”
Anne blinked. They were members of the Spitfire Society, the club Jane had formed with her friends Phoebe and Arabella, which had become a philanthropic association with well over a dozen members now. And they were his sisters? He’d been so close all this time.
“I’ll write their names for your list,” Jane offered. She rose and went to a writing desk in the corner.
Lord Stone smiled after her. “Yes, a picnic. This will be splendid. I’ll send the invitations immediately so we can have the event as soon as possible—Friday, I think.”
“So soon?” Anne asked. As much as she wanted a chance to see Bowles, that was awfully fast to plan and execute an event.
The earl waved his hand. “Bah. Plenty of time, and people will adjust their plans to come. I haven’t entertained at Ivy Grove this Season.” He smiled confidently. Perhaps even overly so. He’d always been a touch arrogant. Anne accepted that as part of who he was.
“We’ll look forward to it,” Anthony said with a smile.
Anne was torn between wanting to throw something at Anthony’s head and thanking him for inviting Mr. Bowles. She could do neither, of course.
Jane returned and handed Anne’s godfather a folded piece of parchment. “Here you are. Thank you for inviting them. I don’t know if Lord and Lady Rockbourne will come, but it’s kind of you to include them.”
“Ah yes, an…odd situation.” Stone rose as he tucked the paper into his coat pocket. “They will be quite welcome if they decide to come. Best to put all of that Chamberlain family nonsense behind us.”
Nonsense? They were a loathsome pair of siblings. Gilbert was about to be transported for extortion, and his sister, the former Lady Rockbourne, had orchestrated the vile rumor about Jane five years ago in order to steer Rockbourne to court her instead of Jane. It had worked, and Miss Dorothea Chamberlain had become the Viscountess Rockbourne. She’d died just a few weeks ago after falling from their balcony. The viscount, father to their young child, had remarried quickly. That was perhaps odd, but the new Lady Rockbourne—their friend Beatrix—was lovely.
She was also Lord Bodyguard’s sister.
Anne still couldn’t believe how their circles intersected, and yet they hadn’t met. What if they had done so weeks ago, before she’d met Gilbert Chamberlain? It didn’t bear thinking about.
Anne, Jane, and Anthony also stood. Stone took Anne’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m so glad to have you back in Society. All the unpleasantness is behind you now. Who knows, perhaps on Friday you’ll meet the man who will truly become your husband.” He waggled his brows at Anne.
Bloody hell, he wanted her to engage in courtship again? She clenched her jaw and smiled tightly. “Who knows?”
He laughed as he let her hand go. Bidding them good afternoon, he took his leave.
“I’m sorry, Anne,” Jane said. “I know you don’t want to go, let alone have the earl try to matchmake.” She glowered at Anthony. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?” His dark brows drew together. “You’re the one who’s been telling me Anne should get out.”
Jane darted a glance toward Anne but answered Anthony. “For a stroll in the park or to go shopping, not to a picnic.”
“But you tried to get her to go to the picnic last week.” Anthony shook his head and muttered, “I do not understand women.”
“I’m standing right here,” Anne said. “While I would have preferred that hadn’t happened the way it did, there’s nothing to be done now.” Not when Bowles was going to be there. Assuming he accepted the invitation. Oh, he had to! There was a Spitfire Society meeting tomorrow at the Spitfire house in Cavendish Square, which was now occupied by Mr. Bowles’s sister, Selina. Beatrix would likely be there too, and Anne could encourage them, along with their brother, to come to Ivy Grove.
If that came to pass, if Lord Bodyguard would be there, well, Anne would attend with glee.
Anthony gazed at her sincerely. “I apologize, Anne. I was only trying to help.”
“As was I,” Jane said.
“I know, and I appreciate you both so much. Please don’t argue on my account. I rely on your mutual affection—it reminds me there is happiness to be had.”
Anthony moved to Jane and slipped his arm around her waist. “Indeed there is, even when you think there isn’t. I would know.”
Yes, he would. After his parents were murdered last year, he never thought he’d be happy again or that he deserved to be. Jane had nursed him back to health, both emotionally and physically after he’d shown up on her doorstep battered almost beyond recognition. If he could find love, surely Anne would too.
Except, she was fairly certain finding it wouldn’t be her problem. Whether it would be reciprocated was a separate issue entirely.
Chapter 3
After being announced by his sister’s butler, Rafe walked into the garden room of her new residence in Cavendish Square. The addition of several chairs crowded the room. “Are you expecting an army?” Rafe asked.
Selina adjusted the position of a chair near the doors that led out to the garden. There was typically a table there, but it had apparently been moved out of the room. “Just the Spitfire Society. While our numbers are growing, we are nowhere near an army. Not everyone will be here today, anyway, including Beatrix.” She stopped abruptly and stared at him. “You’re here because of the invitation.” She didn’t have to specify which invitation.
“You received it earlier?”
She nodded. “A picnic at Ivy Grove tomorrow. How did you manage it? And so quickly?”
Rafe lifted a shoulder. “Someone owed me a favor.”
Selina’s brow puckered. Frowning, she moved around
