Lady Anne's Deception by Marion Chesney Read Free Book Online Page A

Torrance,” said Aunt Agatha, with a grim edge to her voice. “I must thank you for entertaining Lady Annie this afternoon.”
    “Not at all. The pleasure was mine entirely,” he murmured.
    “I gather you had a very interesting conversation,” pursued Aunt Agatha.
    “Quite,” said the marquess, at his most urbane.
    Annie heaved a sigh of relief. Now if she could get him alone and ask him to help her out of this jam!
    Oh, no! Marigold.
    That young lady came tripping up on the arm of her partner. Annie closed her eyes.
    “Lord Torrance!” cried Marigold, all false innocence. “My congratulations! Our little Annie has achieved the first engagement of the Season. When is the wedding to be?”
    There was a heavy silence. Annie closed her eyes tighter.
    They flew open at the sound of the marquess’s amused, lazy drawl. “Oh, I think in about a month’s time.
    Neither Annie nor myself believe in long engagements.”
    He turned to Annie who, by this time, was chalk white, and took her hand in his.
    “You are a naughty puss, Annie,” he said playfully. “You are supposed to wait for your father’s permission before you tell anyone. I shall call on you tomorrow, Miss Winter, to formally request your permission as a start.”
    “Delighted,” said Aunt Agatha faintly.
    “Now, Annie,” said the marquess, giving her limp hand a little shake. “Let me see your dance card. Who has the supper dance? Russell. Ah, well, he will let me have it now that he knows I have prior claim.
    There you are, Russell. You must really let me have this dance, old chap. You see, Lady Annie is engaged to me. You shouldn’t all stand with your mouths open like that. I had a friend who kept doing that and do you know what happened to him?” He smiled benignly at his stunned audience.
    “Well, one day, a blooming great wasp flew right into his mouth and stung him right in the back of the throat, and he nearly choked to death. Come along, Annie. The music’s started.”
    Annie placed her hand on his arm, and he walked off with her to the center of the floor.
    Somewhere behind them, Marigold began to scream.

CHAPTER FOUR
    At first the Earl and Countess of Crammarth were worried about the shortness of their younger daughter’s engagement. Such speed was open to misinterpretation. They had traveled to London as soon as they had heard the news.
    But the fact that their daughter had hooked the catch of London society was not to be overlooked. The marquess was all that was reassuring. And so they agreed to the early wedding.
    Perhaps Annie would have called the whole thing off if she had been left alone in her fiancé’s company.
    Perhaps she would have realized the danger of getting married simply for revenge. But no sooner had he won her parents’ approval than he had taken himself off to France “on business,” promising to return only the day before the wedding.
    Also, revenge on Marigold was terribly sweet. Now Annie was the fêted and petted one. And so she went headlong toward her marriage to a man she did not know in the slightest and had not even kissed.
    Annie had been deprived of affection and attention for as long as she could remember. She luxuriated in it now; she basked in it.
    Marigold did all she could to puncture Annie’s balloon of happiness.
    “He’s a masher,” said Marigold, triumphantly. “And there’re a lot of rumors around that he’s short of money, and it’s well known that his father expects him to support himself. He must have jumped at the chance when you threw yourself at his head. It was all around the ball as soon as we arrived that we were heiresses. Aunt Agatha told Mrs. Worthington on the telephone when she rang her to say that you were coming, and Mrs. Worthington told everyone else. You poor, deluded little thing! Think of all the mistresses he’s had!”
    “I shall change all that,” said Annie stubbornly.
    “Rakes never change,” said Marigold. “Everyone except you knows that.”
    But