“As you can see, I am well. No need to fret.” He waved his hands out at his sides as if his brother could somehow see evidence of that. “You can assure Paget that I am well.”
His brother nodded, not even bothering to deny that his wife was worried about Owen. “I thought we could have dinner together this evening. Just the two of us.”
Without deliberation, Owen’s gaze slid to the parlor doors as though Anna stood there.
At his silence, Jamie prodded, “Owen?”
He faced his brother again, blinking as if that would chase thoughts of Anna away.
“Maybe we could do this another night?”
“I’m leaving tomorrow, Owen. I don’t like to be gone long from Paget, especially in her condition.”
Owen nodded. His sister-in-law was with child. He was actually surprised Jamie had slipped away for even a couple days so close to the end of her confinement.
Jamie angled his head, a hint of aggravation gleaming in his eyes as he studied Owen closely. “Do you have other plans? You can’t spare a few hours for your brother? We’ve hardly had any time together since you returned home.” His jaw tightened, and Owen knew Jamie was thinking about when he’d abandoned him. When he had left Owen in India following their eldest brother’s death. While Jamie returned to take up the reins as the Earl of Winningham, Owen continued alone, fighting for his life and destroying others.
He glanced to the doors again. Anna was expecting him. Knowing her, she’d come looking for him and walk right in on him and Jamie. He winced, already imagining his brother’s questions.
“We’ve talked so little since you returned,” Jamie said. “Paget and I were hoping you’d be home for the baby’s birth. The christening. It would mean a great deal to us.”
Owen shook his head, not answering.
“You don’t have to decide now,” Jamie hurriedly said. “Think about it. We’re family. You should be there.”
Owen looked back at his brother, schooling his features to reveal nothing. “I don’t have any plans this evening,” he finally answered. “We can dine at our old club.” Away from here. From her.
Jamie nodded, his features easing with pleasure. “That sounds fine.”
Owen led him from the parlor, half expecting to see Anna walking her paces on the stairs. At the door, he crossed paths with Mrs. Kirkpatrick.
“I’ll be dining out for the evening, Mrs. Kirkpatrick.”
She glanced to the stairs, and he knew she was thinking of Anna, the girl he was once again leaving to her own devices. He lifted an eyebrow, quelling anything the housekeeper might say. She closed her mouth with a snap. Clasping her hands in front of her, she nodded circumspectly.
Nodding in turn, he forced his thoughts away from the notion of a disappointed Anna waiting on him.
He had never wanted a person in his life whom he could disappoint. He wasn’t capable of being there for anyone, and it was best that she understood that. The last thing he needed was for Anna to form any attachment to him.
Before he passed through the front door, he couldn’t stop himself from taking another look behind him at the stairs. Simply to reassure himself that she was not there.
He did not come for her as promised.
There was no lesson. No shared dinner as she had secretly hoped when she realized he was in residence all day. Nothing. Then he left. And she was alone again for the evening.
She inhaled thinly through her nose. Not such a change. It should not distress her. Much of her life had been lived alone, especially after her mother passed away. She should be used to it by now. The year she spent with Jack had been a whirlwind of teas and parties and fêtes, but she had quickly learned one could still feel alone in a crowded room. She’d made hundreds of acquaintances but no true friends.
Her sisters were all lovely, but two of them were married and lived far from London, one in Maldania and the other in Scotland. They could not be counted upon to keep her company. Marguerite, who lived in Town, had recently given birth. Understandably, Marguerite had been too distracted to really be there for her. And that left only Jack.
Well, becoming a father overnight did not really make one a father. At least not the type she had dreamed of in her girlhood.
She had dreamed of someone kind and strong. A father who would sweep both her and her mother into his arms and claim that he had been searching for them for years. Of course, that never happened. It was foolish to dream, believing in fairy tales led her like a lamb to the slaughter. She had believed in Bloodsworth, believed their marriage would be something genuine. She had been wrong. So wretchedly wrong that it nearly cost her life. She’d never be that wrong again.
Annalise gazed about the flickering shadows of her bedchamber, inhaling the thick silence. Yes. She knew about loneliness.
Still, there was something in this silence, in this emptiness. Her gaze flicked to the adjoining door. This was all the more acute. It drove deep the realization that she had been looking forward to their lesson, to their dinner—to him. Perhaps she had hoped for another kiss. Another taste of him.
Idiot. She had begun to let herself believe in the fantasy of him. Had she learned nothing?
Her throat felt suddenly tight, the skin itchy. She pressed a hand to her neck as if she could ease the sensation. She was repeating past mistakes and expecting things from Owen she had no right to expect. She felt connected to him in a way she had not even felt for Bloodsworth.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Mrs. Kirkpatrick entered the room at her command. “Dinner is ready, Miss Anna.”
Ever since she regained her mobility, Annalise had started taking her meals in the dining room.
“Will his lordship be dining at home this evening as well?” She could not stop herself from asking, hoping.
A frown creased the housekeeper’s ruddy features. “No, Miss Anna. He stepped out for the evening.”
He was not coming. Annalise turned her attention to the open balcony doors. She stepped out into the early evening air and stared down at the gardens. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry tonight.”
She imagined food would taste like dust in her mouth. Because although she told herself she should not have expected anything from Owen, she had.
She did.
“His lordship’s brother surprised him with a visit and they went out for the evening.”
The news only mollified her somewhat. Perhaps it was too much to expect he include her, but he could have told her himself.
The housekeeper continued, “You need to eat. Allow me to bring you a tray—”
Like she was once again an invalid who required a nursemaid? No. She shook her head, her hands coming up to chafe her arms against the chill. “No, thank you.”
“You need your strength.”
“I’m fine.” And that was true. She felt stronger, healthier than ever. She was ready for however much Owen could teach her. Only it appeared he would teach her nothing save not to trust a man again. And if there was nothing left for him to show her, there was no reason for her to linger here any longer.
The housekeeper’s tread stopped behind her. “I am sure he will make himself available tomorrow.”
She swallowed back a snort. She must appear the pathetic girl indeed for the housekeeper to feel the need to console her. Heaven knew what Mrs. Kirkpatrick thought of her employer’s strange relationship with the broken girl he brought home like a stray pup. It was unusual, she would be the first to admit that. She imagined she looked lovesick, pining after the earl. The notion filled her with disgust.
She turned and faced Mrs. Kirkpatrick. “You are very kind, but I am sure I do not care one way or another. I shan’t be staying much longer.”
The housekeeper’s keen eyes evaluated her for several moments before she nodded slowly. “Very well. Of course, miss. Simpl
y ring if you should change your mind. I’m certain Lord McDowell would not wish you to go hungry beneath his roof.”
The housekeeper turned and departed. Annalise stared at the still bedchamber. The silence seemed to echo and vibrate all around her.
Her hands returned to her arms and she chafed them once again. She doubted his lordship cared one way or another if she went hungry. Certainly the matter of his word meant nothing to him. She would cease expecting it to. It was simply too difficult for him to honor his pledge to her, and she didn’t know why she continued to let him dupe her.
Life had not shown her a string of honorable men. She’d been on her own before Jack found her. She could be on her own again. Stronger than before now, wiser, whole. She would persevere even without Owen’s help.
She was done waiting, and she’d tell Owen that the first chance she had. And then she would leave.
Chapter Fourteen
Owen’s eyes flew wide. He held himself still, assessing, listening to the bedchamber around him. Early morning birds chirped outside his window and the pale gray light of dawn crept in beneath the drapes.
He knew he was in London, in his town house and a world away from the heat and death of the war, but old habits were hard to quit. For once he’d slept solidly. Last night he’d endured a tense meal with Jamie. His brother was full of helpful suggestions. It appeared Paget and he had decided he needed to meet a nice young lady. One of the many debutantes coming out this Season would be just what he needed to bring him back to himself.
The evening couldn’t have ended quickly enough.
Then he heard it again. The slight creak of a floorboard. He wasn’t alone in his bedchamber. Firelight from the hearth danced on the wall he faced.
He didn’t breathe, didn’t move, simply waited, listening as the steps drew closer behind him. When he sensed a body close to the bed, he turned and lunged.
His arms pulled the struggling figure down on the bed. A feminine cry filled his ears.
Anna.
“What are you doing in here?” he growled, coming over her. “I thought I advised you against sneaking into my bedchamber.”
“Unhand me!” She squirmed beneath him.
He loosened his arms around her without letting go. “Am I hurting you?”
“No.” She blew at a strand of hair dangling in her face. He watched it drift back to land on her smooth cheek.
“Good. Then answer me. What are you doing here? You know very well what I could have done to you.”
Her glance scanned him. “You don’t have a weapon.”
He slid his hands to her throat, let his fingers lightly surround the smooth skin of her neck. “These are weapons enough.”
“Stop.” A shudder racked her, and he instantly removed his hands. He couldn’t bring himself to frighten her.
“Why are you here? I was not having a bad dream,” he whispered. “Come to play at seduction again?” The question slipped free, an unbidden taunt, an unspoken desire.
Bright color fired her cheeks. “No!” She squirmed beneath him, and he tightened his jaw against the sweet sensation.
She continued heatedly, “I did not know how else to have a word with you but to seek you out myself. You prove ever elusive, my lord.”
Her words hit their mark. A hot flash of guilt washed through him. “About yesterday—”
“No need to explain—”
“I want to explain. I—”
“Forgive me, my lord, but it’s not necessary.” She angled her head on the bed beneath her.
He stared down at her for a full minute. She cared. The fire in her cheeks was not solely from embarrassment. He knew that at once.
“My brother—”
“Your brother surprised you with a visit. Mrs. Kirkpatrick told me.” She released a heavy breath. “But you owe me no explanation. You owe me nothing at all.” She blinked those amazing eyes of hers. “You’ve done more than enough for me. You’ve seen to my care. I’m fit and hale once again. Thank you for that.” She uttered these words so properly, so very primly, that he felt some primitive urge to shake her well up inside him. “It’s time for me to go. It was unfair of me to exact a promise from you for more than you’ve already done for me.”
“Unfair?” Her words sank into his stomach like heavy stones. “ ‘Fair’ doesn’t come into play here, Anna. Something terrible happened to you and that wasn’t fair, was it?”
War . . . the deeds he’d committed in India . . . none of that had been fair. What made her think fairness was to be expected in this life? It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t forget their kiss. Her taste. It wasn’t fair that he was in anguish to experience it again.
He pulled back farther and his gaze roamed her. She had dressed for the day in a modest gown of robin’s egg blue. Even so, the fabric was snug across her breasts. Wherever his housekeeper had unearthed the gown, it was meant for a female far less endowed.
She looked away, again confirming that she remembered far more of the events that led him to find her on that riverbank. For whatever reason, she didn’t trust him enough to confide in him. “I would not know about that.”
He sighed. “I promised to instruct you—”
“It’s clear I’m unwanted here.” Her long lashes blinked slowly over her eyes, as if she was fighting some unwanted emotion. “Let’s just be done with this . . . and each other.”
Her words rattled about his head. She was giving him a way out. He could simply say yes and let her go.
“That’s what you want?” He paused to swallow. “To go?”
She nodded jerkily, sending her brown hair tossing around her shoulders. The top half of it was pulled back with a pair of combs, leaving the rest to fall all around her shoulders. She looked young and fresh. He wished she had taken the time to arrange her hair. The temptation to touch that unruly mane, to run his fingers through the rich mass, was far too tempting. It took her a while to reply. “I think we can both agree that I’ve outstayed my welcome.”
He inhaled a sharp breath. Again he needn’t say anything. He only had to rise and let her go. Give her the money he promised to help her get settled somewhere and turn his back on her.
He glanced down at himself, recalling his lack of clothing. Lifting his gaze, he caught her observing him in turn. Her eyes skimmed over his bare shoulders and chest. When she lifted her gaze to his face, the color deepened in her cheeks.
Again he recalled her in her bath . . . after her bath. Of course she could not have forgotten that either. Did she regret her behavior that night? Did it torment her as much as it tormented him?
“If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll dress myself and meet you in the gardens. We should be able to begin your lesson there.”
Her gaze snapped back to his face. “What?”
“I made a promise to you. I apologize for putting it off . . . for failing you last night. You shan’t leave here until I’ve made good on my word to help you.”
He told himself it was the honorable thing to do. That was the only reason he refused to let her go. He wanted to cling to what small scrap of honor he still possessed.
She studied him for a long moment, her expression bewildered, her fine eyebrows knitted close. Doubtless, she wondered why he should care to keep her here any longer when she was so agreeable to leaving.
He was equally bewildered.
“Have you eaten yet? We should not begin until you’re properly fed. You’ll need your energy.”
After a long moment she nodded, but uncertainty still lurked in her wide eyes.
He slid his hands along her arms, trying not to enjoy the feel of her in his hands too much. He firmly set her from him.
Flipping back the counterpane, he rose in one smooth motion. If possible, her eyes grew even larger. Her gaze scanned his length before jerking elsewhere, darting wildly
around his room. “Y-You are unclothed!”
He smiled, enjoying her discomfort as he strolled naked toward his wardrobe. After the torment of finding her in her bath in a similar state, he thought it sweet justice. “Speaking of clothes, we really need to find you some garments that are tailored to you.”
She glanced down, brushing a hand over her bodice as she got to her feet.
“Not,” he added, “that I don’t appreciate the cut of your bodice. You have lovely breasts, Anna. I’m just not certain you want to flaunt them so much.”
“Oh!” Her fist came down to strike her skirts. “I shall see you downstairs,” she called, whirling around.
Chuckling, he watched her flee, impressed with how deft and quickly her feet moved beneath her skirts. She had made a miraculous recovery.
The door clicked shut behind her as he dressed himself.
It was only moments later that he realized he was still smiling.
Chapter Fifteen
She was waiting for him when he arrived in the dining room not half an hour later. The curtains were drawn and some rare morning sunshine spilled into the narrow room. He blinked as if his eyes were sensitive to light. She tried to school her features and not devour him with her gaze. The image of him naked, however, was burned into her eyes. She’d seen him without his shirt on, but he looked even better fully naked. Every inch of him exuded power and strength.
She straightened her spine, focusing on presenting a composed air in her chair. The only outward sign of her nervousness was her right hand. It twitched madly in her lap, safely out of sight, so she allowed herself the weakness.
He offered her a slight smile and inclined his golden dark head in a bare nod before turning to the sideboard a maid had laid out only moments before, the bounty of which made her feel rather guilty. The amount of food available could feed an entire household and not simply the two of them. She had seen such largesse in Town the last year but still had not grown accustomed to the sight of it all.
Sophie Jordan - [Forgotten Princesses 03] Page 12
