“Tell me about the land.” Luke’s voice was so low, she might have missed it except her heart heard them as though he’d shouted.
“How do you know all this?” She looked at him, squeezing his hand.
“I’ve my skills.” He gave her a small smile.
Somehow, looking into his gaze made the words flow from her lips. “He promised me land for my inheritance. A small piece of property right on the coast.” She hesitated, not quite sure if she was ready to tell him about the research for which she wanted to use the property. After she finished Chloe’s book, of course. In fact, her friends all planned to move there with her, before they began marrying. “I study ocean creatures. It’s my…” She stopped and her gaze snapped to his waiting for his response.
But Luke’s only response was to shrug. “Tell me all of it, Annie. Now’s the time.”
She rested her head on Luke’s shoulder. “I publish under a man’s name. But I can support myself. I just need the property and I can live my own life where no one takes anything away from me again.”
She felt his heartbeat stutter. “I think I understand.”
She lifted her head to look at him again. She wanted to see his expression when he answered her next question. “Now tell me. Why don’t you want your wife and child to know you?”
Damn. She’d shared her soul and now she expected the same in return, all with Dryden listening to the entire exchange. Still, she needed this, and somehow, Luke had to give her what she required. He’d hurt her if he didn’t. “My father was the worst. Not only did he neglect me the second half of my childhood, but the first half was a constant state of battle between himself and my mother. The hostility between them rose until it culminated in this.” He pointed to his scar.
Annabelle gasped. Dryden swore under his breath. He held up his hand. “I only tell you because you were so honest, and I thought I should return the gesture. I’ve made my peace.”
She touched his face and slowly traced the dark, puckered skin that sliced down his cheek. Her gloves were soft, her touch gentle as she glided her fingers to the corner of his lip. “By trying to marry and produce an heir with one foot in the grave?”
He quirked a brow. “You’re judging me?” He supposed he didn’t blame her. But she hadn’t seen him in his early days. He was his father’s son, Luke’s temper could be explosive. He’d learned to manage it for the most part, but it was an ever-present fear.
She skimmed her fingers over his chin and down his chest, finally pulling her hand away. “No. Quite the opposite really. When I hear you say that out loud, it makes me question my own decisions.”
“How so?” He turned more fully toward her, wanting to better see her face in the dimly lit interior.
She shrugged. “Well, my plan hinges upon my father doing what he’s never done before, actually following through on a promise. And yours upon the fact that you’ll meet a woman who’ll take a half-dead husband…likely. But then that you’ll be able to conceive and that the child will be a boy. Both our plans hold a great many ifs.”
Now that was an observation that made him pause. “In fact they do.” He tapped his chin. “I suppose I considered my obligation fulfilled just by marrying, but that isn’t entirely true, is it?
She shook her head. “And what will I do if my father catches wind of Marksman’s desire to buy the property?”
Luke reached for her hand. “I should be able to help you there. Dryden and I are starting our own line of ships. Perhaps he’ll be content to ship his goods through us.”
She laced her fingers through his. “Thank you. But the truth is, another Marksman might come along. And much as I appreciate your offer to help, you can’t go into business with all of them, can you?”
“No. I can’t.” The carriage made a sharp turn and her body swayed, pushing against his. He stopped breathing as her bosom pressed against his arm. Bloody hell, he was like a schoolboy again.
She placed her hand on his chest to steady herself and he covered her hand with his, leaning down. Her lips parted as she stared up at him.
Every muscle in his body tightened in desire. Luke longed to pull her close and kiss her again. Her lips had been achingly soft and her taste like wine and cherries. But he reached for her upper arm instead and righted her position on the seat.
Dryden cleared his throat. “It’s an interesting problem. Annie needs an asset shorn up. Only when the property is out of her father’s hands will it be safe. And Harding needs an heir while he’s young enough to ensure he has a male.” He tapped his chin. “If only there were a way that you both could help each other out.”
Luke’s jaw tightened as he gripped his thigh. He knew what Dryden was implying. The question was, was he correct? Would marrying Annabelle solve both their problems? Perhaps. What problems would it create? He’d seen her reaction to the suggestion of marriage. She’d nearly collapsed. And him? Annabelle was far too spirited to be a good match for him. He’d learned that lesson the hard way.
Chapter Ten
Annabelle pressed her fingers to her cheeks. Dryden made the same suggestion his wife had that she and Luke marry. He was being more subtle, of course. Which was likely why the same level of panic didn’t arise. In fact, she actually considered the idea. Then there was the fact that Luke sat next to her. His presence calmed her in ways she hadn’t anticipated.
The carriage rolled to a stop. The footmen opened the door, then Fin and Luke hopped out. After he landed, Luke helped her down from the carriage. The front door opened and she expected to see their ancient butler, Reeves. Instead, her father stood in the doorway with Lord Marksman next to him.
Her heart jumped into her throat. What was Lord Marksman doing here? “You underhanded, dirty rotten—”
Marksman held up his hand. “You seemed engaged with the marquess. I thought it an excellent time to actually speak to your father.”
“A marquess?” Her father’s eyes, which had yet to fix on her, suddenly did. She had grown accustomed to him staring straight through her as though she wasn’t even there. But now he looked with rapt attention. She shifted, her hip brushing Luke’s leg.
In response, Luke held out his elbow to her and escorted her up the stairs. When they’d reached the top, he dropped his head down, his nose only an inch from Marksman’s. Lord Marksman was a tall man but Luke towered over him. “You and I are going to have a word first thing tomorrow morning.”
She heard Marksman gulp. “I don’t see why—”
“Eight o’clock sharp. Don’t be late.” Then Luke turned to her father. “I shall expect to be seen by you at nine.” Finally, he turned to Annabelle, his features softening. “Do your calling hours begin at ten, my lady?”
It wasn’t lost on her that he’d asked her when he’d ordered the men. She didn’t understand how he intended to keep Marksman from purchasing the land, but she knew he had some sort of plan. “They do. I look forward to seeing you.”
“As do I,” he answered. Then he turned to Marksman. “I’m to give Dryden a ride home. Why don’t you come with us?”
Marksman shook his head. “Quite all right. I have my carriage here and we’ll see each other in the morning.”
Luke didn’t flex a muscle, his face remained completely still. “I wasn’t asking. You can have your carriage follow.” Then he leaned down again. “Get in the vehicle.”
Satisfaction rippled through Annabelle. She had to confess that having Luke on her side had some very real benefits. But her father’s gaze was still trained on her. She drew in a deep breath. Would Luke be able to save her land and the future she’d dreamed for herself?
Luke twisted his head, a crack filling the silence in the carriage. He’d come to the decision not to beat Pierce Marksman, though his fingers itched to close into fists. The man, however, would pay.
“We had an agreement,” Luke rumbled low and deep. He didn’t say it loud, he didn’t have to. Pierce shifted uncomfortably.
Pierce’s mout
h twitched. “I agreed that I’d do nothing to tarnish the lady. I kept up my end of the bargain.”
“You did not.” His voice came out louder than he intended and both Dryden and Marksman snapped their chins back as he’d struck them. He took a deep calming breath. There was his father coming out in him. “You have hurt her more deeply than any other action you could have possibly taken.”
Marksman frowned. “I gave her a dowry.”
Luke gripped his own thighs. “You’re trying to steal her future.”
Dryden held up his hand. “Harding,” he began. “He’s not being malicious, though he was underhanded.” Dryden gave Marksman a hard glare. “He doesn’t understand her the way you do, and he never will.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Luke said as he stared at the other man. Marksman still deserved a good punch in the mouth. “But I am going to tell you right now, find another piece of land.”
Marksman straightened. “I won’t. I need that piece.”
Luke reached across the carriage and grabbed Marksman by the cravat. Marksman returned the favor and they stared at each other locked in a battle of wills. “You will.”
“I won’t.” Marksman gritted out.
Luke let him go, giving him a shove against the seat as he assessed his options. He could intimidate the man or try to squeeze him in other areas of his business. The first would likely fail and the second take too long. There was, however, a third option. “Fine. You leave me no choice.”
That made Marksman pause, his mouth opening. “What does that mean?”
Luke used his cane to rap on the wall. “This is where you get out, Lord Marksman.” Then he reached over to open the door. “I’d like to say it was a pleasure, but that would be a lie. Our meeting tomorrow morning was to discuss the details of our joint shipping adventure but I’m retracting my offer.”
Marksman continued to sit in his seat, staring at Luke with a wary eye. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
“I sincerely hope so,” Luke replied pointing at the door.
Marksman climbed out, not looking back and the footmen snapped the door closed again.
Silence filled the carriage as it began to rumble down the street. Dryden ran his fingers through his hair. “So. Do I get to know the plan?”
Luke’s cheek ticked. “I plan to outbid him for the property.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. Not that he regretted the decision he’d just made. He knew it was right and he’d find a way to protect her even from himself.
Dryden’s eyebrows rose. “And that helps Annabelle how? You can’t gift it to her. Not without completely ruining her.”
“I’m not sure she cares,” he answered truthfully as he rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze on the floor. “But I do.” Then he let his hand drop. “Which is why I’m going to offer to marry her.”
A smile pulled at Dryden’s lips. “I thought so.”
Luke frowned. “Don’t get any ideas. I don’t intend to ride off into a happily ever after. I’m going to give her her own brand of freedom. As my wife, she’ll be free to live in her cottage by the sea—safe and happy.” Without him by her side because he couldn’t risk hurting a woman the way his father had hurt his mother.
He’d do anything to keep her safe. His heart hammered in his chest. With startling realization, it hit him that he loved her. That he’d do anything for her, including marrying her and then leaving her to lead a life without him.
“And heirs?” Dryden leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
Luke grimaced. Though he found the idea of making heirs with Annabelle quite thrilling, some part of him was afraid of the intimacy. He couldn’t seem to hold himself back from her. “That is the only part of the arrangement she might object to. She’ll have to deal with my company long enough to produce a child or two, but I’ll provide all the help she needs in raising them while still pursuing her passions.”
Dryden shook his head. “Chloe and Annabelle’s friend, Penny, made a similar arrangement with her husband, Wes. They agreed to live together for a year to build up their assets and create an heir and then they’d be free to live separate lives.”
Luke nodded. Lots of matches were made outside of affection. His chest tightened. The problem, he supposed, was that there was emotion on his part. “And it worked out?”
Dryden sat back. “I’d say that it did.”
“How did their parting go?” He rubbed at his jaw. He’d have to do it, of course. Let her go. If for no other reason than he did care.
“Everything is going quite well.” Dryden didn’t look at him, he stared out the window into the inky night.
Not that it mattered to Luke. He was busy planning his next move. “Thank you for talking this out with me.”
Dryden nodded stiffly. “Do me a favor and remind me not to make you angry, all right?”
Luke didn’t answer. That was the understatement of his life.
Chapter Eleven
Annabelle stared at her father as he stared back. They stood on the other side of the fire, assessing one another. There was no chance she was speaking first. He had barely acknowledged her existence, he’d do so now.
He cleared his throat. “So, you were escorted home by the Marquess of…”
“Harding,” she answered. “All very appropriate considering Dryden was in attendance.”
“He isn’t family,” her father quickly replied.
True. “He is to me.” More so than you have ever been. But she kept her lips pressed together.
“Did Dryden introduce you to Lord Harding?” Her father leaned forward, his grip on the mantel tightening.
“Does it matter?” She leaned back. The glint in her father’s eye as he gave her a sideways glance was a bit frightening. She wished Luke were standing next to her now. But she did wonder if she could use her father’s interest against him. “Are you hoping he’ll offer?”
He danced his fingers along the mantel. “Do you think he will?”
She shrugged. “He and Dryden are discussing a shipping company.” She didn’t say anymore. She didn’t need to and later she wouldn’t be caught having misled him in any way. She allowed him to draw his own conclusions. Which were likely that Harding would also want that land and that he’d be willing to marry her for it. Or at the very least, outbid Marksman. She could only hope to keep his false impressions up long enough to reject Marksman’s offer. What happened when he realized there was no offer from Luke was a problem for tomorrow. Right now, she needed time.
“Very good,” he murmured, staring across the room. This was how things usually were. He pretended she didn’t exist. But then his gaze fixated on her again. “I didn’t realize how pretty you’ve grown. You look like your mother.”
Those words cut like a knife. She didn’t bear a visible scar like Luke, but inside, she was open. Because he’d revealed what she’d known all along. He hadn’t looked at her in years, and he only paid attention now because she was the next asset he planned to barter and sell in an effort to pursue his own passions. Frankly, she was surprised this hadn’t occurred to him sooner. Nausea made her stomach pitch. Once he had the idea in his head, he wasn’t likely to let it rest. “You promised me that property.”
His eyes cut back to hers. Her breath caught. After living with the man for twenty years, there wasn’t a flicker of emotion in his gaze. “I’m going to use the profits to finance your dowry. Maybe even gain an offer of marriage.”
“Had it occurred to you to ask what I might want? Me? Your daughter?” Blast. Tears stung her eyes.
He looked at her, his mouth hanging open. “What you want? You’re a lady. You’ll marry and start a family.”
Annabelle tossed her hands up above her head, irritation drying her tears as anger coursed through her veins. “Are you planning to finance a season? Where is this proposal coming from?”
He gave her a small smile. “Didn’t you see the way the marquess defended you? I’ve never really connected
to people. I don’t understand them, their behavior. But even I could see that he was posturing as your protector.”
Annabelle sucked in her breath. He had been acting on her behalf. And he’d made appointments with both Marksman and her father. She’d know tomorrow at their meeting, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to wait that long.
After all, her future hung in the balance.
Well past midnight, Luke sat in his favorite chair in his study watching the dancing flames of the fire. He should go to bed. He was an early riser by nature and habit. The work of his land and people kept him busy most days.
He stared at the whisky in his hand. He wasn’t much of a drinker either, but tonight he needed the fortification. Taking another long swallow, the liquor burned a path down to his gut. It mirrored the knot already throbbing in his chest.
Was that his heart? It felt more like a ball of lead. Likely because the organ knew it was about to be catapulted into enemy lines, ripped to pieces, and left to disappear into the earth. Somehow, over the course of the evening, he’d realized that he loved her. Dryden had realized it too. Who wouldn’t? He was going to great lengths to protect her, he understood her hurts, cared about what she wanted for her future.
But tonight, when he grabbed Marksman, he’d been reminded of the beast of a temper that lived within him. He worked hard to control the monster, hence why he didn’t drink. The burning liquor only fed the beast. Which is why he’d have to sacrifice his own heart. He could live with that consequence, but he’d hate himself forever if he hurt Annabelle.
A knock sounded at the door. “Yes?” His voice held the edge of a man who didn’t want to be disturbed.
“Forgive me, my lord, but a missive has arrived for you,” his butler called through the door.
“A missive?” Luke crinkled his brow. “Come in.”
The Wicked Wallflowers: Regency Boxed Set (Chronicles of a Bluestocking) Page 25
