"You couldn't be clumsy if you tried," he said.
"I hope you will stay and tell Elizabeth's dancing master that whisker."
"You don't need me to fight your battles," he said.
"Well, it would be very nice to have someone fight them."
Annie was quite accustomed to having to stand on her own two feet. However, what she had just said was something she had recognized since Ian had come to Fenton School to collect her. And it had only been reinforced by Elizabeth's kindness. It was nice to have someone on her side. And at her side.
"And that is the purpose of everything we're in London to accomplish," Ian said softly.
*The marriage mart. Someone to fight my battles for me.*
Annie had never thought of what they were undertaking In that light. Despite all her romantic fantasies, she had never really believed she would find a husband at any of the Season's entertainments.
*Someone to fight my battles for me.* The memory of the night they had knelt together in the snow was again in her head. As was that peculiar sensation, the one which had moved through her body when Ian Sinclair had taken her hand.
And suddenly she knew with startling clarity why she had never, from the very beginning, entertained any hope of falling in love with a handsome gentleman she would meet in some London ballroom. Unknown even to her, it seemed, she had already found her champion, and ridiculously romantic or not, she knew she would never want any other.
*~*~*~*
The Countess had decided that Annie's first foray into society would take place at a small, intimate dinner party given by Lady Laud, who was Ian's godmother. Since Elizabeth could not chaperon Annie through the upcoming Season's nearly endless round of entertainments, Ian was hopeful that his godmother might be willing to assume that role. Both her husband's position with the government and Lady laud's own reputation would add to Annie's stature in the eyes of the ton, if the old woman agreed.
And that, Elizabeth had declared, would depend on the impression Annie made tonight. It was simply another pressure added to all the others Annie was already very well aware of.
Thankfully, the Countess had chosen one of the most becoming of Annie's elegant new gowns for the occasion. The colour of rich cream, it's only decoration was a few ecru silk roses scattered about the hem. There was another smaller Rose sewn discreetly at the neckline, it's petals touching Annie's skin just above the swell of her breasts.
She wore a matching rose in her hair, whose colour for the first time seemed to complement her clothing rather than war with it. Elizabeth herself had arranged her coiffure, sweeping get curls high on the top of her head and allowing the fine tendrils that always escaped any arrangement of float around her face.
Considering that her expectations had been so very low, Annie had been enormously pleased with the reflection in her cheval glass. And more than pleased with the approval she was now seeing in her guardian's eyes.
Ian, striking in full evening regalia, was standing in the foyer below, looking up as she paused on the first landing of the grand staircase of the London town house. And, despite her nervousness, Annie was certain of one thing: she could not have wished for a more handsome escort.
Of course, she reminded herself, Ian was her guardian and not really her escort. There was nothing, however, which said she couldn't pretend. Her lips lifted into a reminiscing smile as she remembered long hours of her adolescence spent imagining just such a moment as this.
And no one, not even her guardian, would ever know what she was imagining tonight.
The harmless fantasy would help her through the evening that lay ahead. She had told herself again and again that she must guard her tongue and remember all the silly rules Elizabeth had so patiently explained. After all the trouble and expense the two of them had gone to on her behalf, it would be a shame not to live up to the standards of ton on her very first outing.
"What do you think?" Elizabeth asked her brother-in-law. She had pitched the question so that Annie could hear it as she stood above them, waiting breathlessly for his approval.
"I think," Ian said, smiling up at Annie, "that I shall be the most envied man in London."
He held out his hand, and Annie descended the last set of steps to place her fingers in his. As soon as she touched them, there was again that unaccustomed jolt in the pit of her stomach.
If she hadn't already known it cause, she might legitimately have put the feeling down to sheer excitement tonight. After all, this was the moment they had been working towards—the beginning of the long Season that stretched ahead.
Ian's eyes were smiling at her again. And, seeing the undisguised admiration in them, Annie began to relax. Whatever apprehension she felt about the success of the evening, her guardian apparently harboured none.
During the last few difficult weeks his unfailing confidence had bolstered hers. And it was rather badly in need of bolstering tonight. Ian tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, placing warm fingers over her cold ones, which were vibrating slightly with nerves.
"You're trembling," he said, sounding surprised by that discovery. "There's nothing to be afraid of, I promise you."
And as long as he was holding her hand, Annie told herself, truly there would not be.