Second Chances; A Regency Story (For Anna)

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle felt so overwhelmed by the time she reached her room that night. She'd given vague answers to Elizabeth as to why she hadn't been invited along for the outing that day. They'd dined and attended a musicale. Anna was eternally grateful that she hadn't been at a ball where all evening she'd be expected to hold up a conversation. She managed to make a decent effort of listening to the latest on dits, knowing as a chaperone they were an important necessity. When she'd finally been released from the social obligations of the night she'd retired to her room and her coveted diary.

As the events of the day flowed into ink she analyzed her feelings. Why was she tempting fate? Annabelle enjoyed his company. He was intelligent, respected her opinions, and shared her dislike for many of the ways of tonish life. More so, she'd marveled at the intimate moment they shared. Something about him tempted her as no others in the recent past had. Just a touch or a look and her blood began to boil.

So what was she to do about him? She'd never really thought about taking a lover before. Her father's estate in Lincolnshire was surrounded by farmland, with gentry she'd be willing to consider for the position non-existent so she'd never had to consider the option before. It wasn't unheard of for elder misses-turned-spinsters to take a discrete lover occasionally. It wouldn't cause a scandal unless she flaunted it in public so why wouldn't she?

After the day together, Annabelle knew there was something between them that wouldn't rest until it was unleashed. She couldn't get him out of her mind. Putting aside her writing and preparing for bed she pondered her options and how best to act on them. By the time she lay in bed her mind was slightly clearer. She had no reason not to pursue a liaison with Alasdair, and so many things she could gain from one. If he was of the same mind, she wouldn't hinder any developments on that front.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Alasdair had returned to the Hardt House in a solitary mood, desperate to lock himself away in the study or the library to pore through his thoughts. As was always the case, however, it was dark before the noise and activity of home was set aside. It was unusual for him to be gone for so long, most especially without notice, and the children had demanded answers he had yet to answer for himself. In the end he had told them simply that he'd had an outing with Miss Hennessy, the lady-cum-princess of his last tale.

This, of course, had brought a fresh barrage of questions from young Adair and a frighteningly knowing look from Cara, who shouldn't know enough about such things to give him such a look at all. He had been checking on her, he said, thanking her in person for her care in the way of a gentleman rather than sending a note, as had been his way these past years.

At long last the children had been put to bed and Alasdair sat alone by the library fire, a glass of brandy in hand. He thought deeply of the day, of the briefest moments that shone so vividly in his memory, and yes, of that unforgettable kiss.

He felt the stab of betrayal bitterly, and though he knew that Michael would want him to find some bit of happiness, he couldn't help but long for what was so blatantly missing. He drank away the memories as he had countless times before and fell into a dreamless sleep near dawn.

The next few days were difficult, and he had nearly talked himself out of seeing Annabelle again when he found himself cornered after breakfast by a grave-faced Cara. Alasdair adored Michael's sister, doted on her as he did Adair, and when she demanded to speak with him he wasted no time in notifying his steward that his morning appointments would need rescheduling.

The talk which followed surprisingly demanded those extra minutes and in fact took over an hour, during which Alasdair realized both how much of the child remained in Cara and how much of a lady she had become. She and Adair had decided, she told him, that they wished to meet Miss Hennessy, or at least to observe her, and he was to invite her to Hardt House immediately.

Alasdair was suitably stunned, and perhaps amused as well for the moments before Cara went on. Adair wanted a mother, and it was high time he'd reentered Society. Cara herself wanted female company and declared herself too old for a Governess. She was nearly seventeen and heartily agreed with her young nephew that though this would be a difficult transition, it would be for the best.

Somehow Alasdair found himself overseeing the planning of a dinner party at Hardt House, a small group of attendees invited to cover the intentions he had been prodded toward.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle had been looking forward to hearing from Mr. Blackwood for that next several days. By the time the invitation came she'd nearly given up all hope of hearing from him. She'd expected to see him at a ball, or perhaps have him call on her, or take her for a stroll or something. She wasn't expecting a small dinner party. Going to the Hardt Manor was not on the list of expected ways to move forward with their acquaintance.

The night of the dinner Annabelle stepped out of her carriage wearing a creation of deep emerald colored silk. It was one in the style of the current fashion she'd just received from her modiste, accentuating her slender figure. The neckline was lower then she was accustomed but edged with lace in a teasing display of modesty. Standing next to Elizabeth, dressed in the proper pale debutante attire, she felt very bold. The door to the ducal residence opened as the pair began to ascend the stairs. Entering into the foyer, Annabelle took in the marvelous interior before turning to the man waiting to greet her and smiling with anticipation.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

The butler saw the two ladies in and to the drawing room, where guests were still settling in or just beginning to mingle. There was a pale-skinned, dark-haired woman in a white dress—an unusual color for one so far past her coming out—seated beside a brunette wearing a deep shade of wine. The former, Adara d'Avonderre, Countess of Huntington, had exclaimed at seeing Alasdair after so long an absence and had demanded that he call on her within the next week. He'd given his promise, loathe though he was to be dragged back into Society.

Cara, however, was interested in all of it, even in the lady at Adara's side, an opera singer she had taken in as companion after the death of her second husband. Not one guest seemed at all scandalized at the appearance of such a woman, but then, the group was an eclectic one. Even Madame Celyn Corvus didn't draw censure.

The Baron and Baroness of Davenport, Leo and Brindle Ignatius, had arrived as well, though Alasdair doubted that they would remain the entire evening. Their firstborn was now some few months old, and it was clear that the doting parents wished to return to him before the nursery lights had darkened.

Trenton and Verity Frey, Viscount and Viscountess of Westmoreland, had only arrived a short time ago, Verity radiant in violet satin, the secretive smile on her lips an interesting contrast to the dark gaze of her husband. The earl was a patron of the arts and had solicited him several times over the past few years for a portrait of his lovely wife. She was enceinte, but not visibly so, and the earl was more eager than ever to have his request granted.

Alasdair might have been nervous had these guests not dominated his attention so thoroughly. When the door had opened again, he excused himself to greet the newest-arrived guests, and paused at the sight of Annabelle. His breath caught and for some indefinable moments it was impossible to keep his gaze at an appropriate level. When at last he managed the feat he stepped forward, greeting both ladies with words he was hardly aware of.

What he was aware of was the soft warmth of Annabelle's hand as he bowed over it, pressing his lips gently to her knuckles. The touch lingered nearly to impropriety before he pulled back and straightened, forcibly recalling himself. His bow over her young sister's hand was brief and quite proper, but his mind remained on the elder Miss Hennessy and the sudden irrepressible memory of their kiss.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle looked over at her sister after Alasdair greeted them both. Elizabeth's cheeks held a slight tint to them that Anna knew most likely matched her own. She couldn't blame her sister, Alasdair was quite an impressive male figure. In full evening attire he was nearly as eye catching as he'd been lying in bed with only bandages to cover the expanse of his chest. Annabelle tried to get her mind back to the evening activities and focused on her host.

Wishing she could strike up a conversation, she knew it would be wrong of her to monopolize his time without greeting the other guests, most of whom she recognized from various entertainments she'd attended in Town. Anna turned to the girl who appeared beside him and curtsied, knowing who she must be before Mr. Blackwood started the introductions.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Alasdair introduced Cara as his ward, and she behaved admirably, acting the lady and playing the part of his hostess, though she was not yet of age to appear publicly. It seemed he had only just pulled a breath before she was off, her arm tucked about that of the younger Miss Hennessy to give introductions and likely gossip. He watched them walk away with a measure of curiosity and trepidation, though why the latter he could not say.

Whatever the reason, he soon gave up the thought and turned again to look at Annabelle. His lips parted to say something, whether it was an apology or a more personal greeting, but was interrupted by the arrival of another pair of guests, unmarried gentlemen to offset the number of unmarried ladies. They were no more available than Annabelle and her sister in such company, but that was never spoken of. As far as Society was concerned, even the open-minded company he kept, the two were business partners who simply spent a great deal of time in one another's company.

Messrs. Ariel Callahan and Markise Sterling couldn't have been more opposite in appearance. The former seemed always brooding and only just contained in his well-fitted suits. The latter was such a shocking dandy that even Alasdair's appearance faded to normalcy in comparison. Markise's pale hair was unfashionably long and gathered into Botticelli-esque curls, his suit in shades of lavender and pale blue accented with white.

Alasdair could not help but smile at the sight of his best friend from Eton and diverted Annabelle's attention in that direction, offering his arm. If there were one guest whose approval he was most interested in, it was his effeminate friend.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

And Anna was like, OH-EM-GEE, is that poncy little poof for real? And Alasdair was all, "Meet my bestest friend" so Anna went "Like, hi, I like your hair" and the poncy friend was like *sparkle* and Anna was like HE'S SO EFFING CUTE!!! and so she was all *friendly* and he was all *cute* and Alasdair was all "Let's ditch this fake-ass party and go to my room" and she was all "Why the hell'd it take you so long?!"

So then they done didit and it was good.

The End.

(By Dare, while Anna's writer makes me some effing food, biotch! lol)

[Annabelle Hennessy]

(You are sooooo cute Dare! And this is why I adore you and keep you around!!!!)

Under normal circumstances Annabelle would have been far more observant of the strictures of society. With Mr. Sterling in front of her she'd all but forgotten herself until after she'd accepted Alasdair's arm. By then it was too late to remove herself from the place at his side without bringing attention to the fact. What is he thinking??? She knew he'd been out of society for a while, but surely even he realized that he'd just put her in the position that Lady Cara should be filling. She resisted the urge to see where the true hostess was, sure that she was busy introducing Elizabeth to the other guests.

Annabelle smiled and greeted the two gentlemen. Mr. Sterling was highly entertaining, and had her laughing at a random on dit within minutes. She was painfully aware of Alasdair next to her, could feel the heat of his arm against her fingertips. As much as she was enjoying his friends, being so close to him was stirring memories of their afternoon together and the conclusions she'd come to. She couldn't help but think that her standing by his side, greeting his guests was completely out of line for the type of position she was hoping to hold in his life. The anticipation was pulling at her, though she knew in such a setting it would be unlikely that they'd even get a private word, let alone a chance to experience the feel of his lips again.

Outwardly Annabelle was calm and sociable, truly liking Mr. Sterling as he effortlessly extracted information from her in the most subtle ways. They had adjusted their circle so they were no longer blocking the doorway. She knew that she should move on soon to greet the other guests but there was never a lull in conversation for her to make her excuses and escape the position on Alasdair's arm.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Alasdair had still been fighting down his reaction to Annabelle, both her appearance and her nearness, when Markise and Ariel had arrived. His mind hadn't been focused, and so he'd acted without thought, drawing her arm comfortably around his, unthinking of the connotations. Had he thought of them, however, his actions might not have differed. Cara had left him more or less alone with Annabelle, which certainly implied assent, and what was a subtle declaration in such a casual setting?

More introductions followed, and more still when his final guests arrived. He'd needed two more eligible bachelors to even the numbers and had invited the Honorable Xavier and Xander Youngblood, more for their entertainment value than any substance they might bring to conversation. He knew them from Eton as well, and with their arrival the guest list was complete.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle greeted the twins, inquiring as to when they'd arrived in town as she'd yet to run into them at any of the balls she'd attended. Their vague answers had her categorizing them among most gentlemen their age - actively avoiding the parson's mousetrap so many of their peers had succumbed to. She still felt unsettled about acting the hostess for his guests. She thought surely they would be confused when she did not take the seat opposite his at the head of the table. There was nothing that could be done about it though. Alasdair did not seem inclined to release her, and if she was truthful with herself, she had no desire to leave his side.

After a short conversation, the pairs split and Annabelle found herself strolling through the drawing room with Alasdair. She greeted the others she was acquainted, and was introduced to Lord and Lady Davenport for the first time. She was intrigued with such an eclectic group of people, although they all seemed to mesh into a complimentary bunch. She gathered enough information from the individuals that Alasdair knew them all from varying settings, both business and social. Why he'd decided to hold a dinner party wasn't clear and she couldn't deny the thought that she might have something to do with it. His motive for holding such an evening was weighing heavy on her mind. She could only speculate though and was afraid to let her imagination get the best of her.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

No one seemed at all surprised to see Annabelle on Alasdair's arm. There were certainly no disapproving looks, only the odd casual question which could have meant nothing at all. Alasdair was quite relieved, if still hesitant about the plot the children had put him up to, and he was determined to follow through. Whatever his thoughts or feelings on the matter, Cara had been right; the children needed a strong female presence in the house.

At supper all were seated properly, Alasdair taking his seat at the head of the table, Cara taking hers at the foot. Though the Countess, the Viscountess, and the others nearest him were good company and fine conversation, he found himself wishing now and then that he were seated elsewhere, nearer to Annabelle and the rollicking tales it seemed Markise and the Youngbloods were telling.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

When Annabelle parted with Alasdair for dinner she wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a disappointment. She could finally breathe again and think clearly. Which was a good thing, considering how fast she had to work to keep up with the gentlemen around her at dinner. Before the first course was even finished she determined that she had the most entertaining dinner partners that she'd had all season, and it only got better from there.

Although she was thoroughly amused, she thought on more then one occasion that Alasdair would like a particular story. She caught herself glancing his way a few times, realizing that if he wasn't the host he would have been sitting at their end of the table. The dinner flew by, and in no time at all Lady Cara was leading the ladies out of the room so the gentlemen could enjoy their port.

Lady Davenport and Lady Westmoreland could be heard near the windows discussing nannies and nursery renovations. Annabelle found herself sitting on a Chaise next to Lady Huntington while the others hoovered near. One of the ladies asked how she'd come to meet Mr. Blackwood, and Annabelle, encouraged by an enthusiastic Elizabeth, was regaled to the role of storyteller. Occasionally she was interrupted by Elizabeth or Lady Cara, who must have heard the story from Alasdair, and exaggerations were added to make it far more interesting of a tale. Annabelle could only hope that the gentlemen joined them before the horse became a dragon that's he'd slain and she became a saint watching over his deathbed for a week without leaving his side.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Alasdair rarely lingered over his port. He was not a social drinker, and with the rumors, however true they might have been, each refilling of his glass seemed to be noted by his guests. Add to that his desire to see Annabelle again and he kept the conversation brief.

They had hardly regained the drawing room when Lord Davenport gathered his lady and the two made their goodbyes. Lady Westmoreland headed toward the piano with the Youngblood twins and her husband following, but it was Annabelle that Alasdair was most interested in. She seemed at the center of some story and had those around her rapt with attention. He felt as though he'd be intruding to join.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle knew the moment Alasdair came into the room. It took all her willpower not to turn to him immediately. She hurried to finish explaining that Alasdair and her own actions were nothing out of the ordinary and that they'd merely formed an acquaintance after the encounter. She didn't expect any of the women believed her, least of all the two younger ladies.

Annabelle heard the girls whispering to each other and prayed that no one else was paying attention to the words she heard. "That's why he took her for a ride in the park and didn't invite me." "Don't forget the picnic too. They were gone all day." She blushed at their comments and quickly reacted by looking towards Alasdair and raising her voice a little. "Oh look, the gentlemen have returned." She smiled at him, hoping he would take the hint and join them.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

A rollicking sea shanty had begun at the piano, the twins singing loudly to Lady Westmoreland's playing, and Alasdair used the distraction to gather himself a moment. He really shouldn't be interrupting the intimate coze the ladies were having, and hesitated, the gleam in Cara's brown eyes highly unsettling. Markise, however, had walked straight past him, no qualms about catching up the Countess for a spirited dance. Ariel stood apart from them all, propped against the fireplace to watch, and it seemed now that Cara had dragged the younger Miss Hennessy off. It seemed he would not be interrupting after all, and that, in fact, his only option as host was now to join Annabelle as he'd wished.