Annabel’s cheeks burned at being caught, and he dropped back into his chair. Her plan had lasted all of two minutes, and now shame filled her. Once again she had failed at something.
She sighed. “You are right. My plan was to use words to garner favor.”
“I have seen it before, and I will not fall for it again.”
Annabel considered his words. How had he experienced such a thing before? If she were to ask, she doubted he would reply. Instead, she summoned her courage and said, “Well, as we are to be friends for the next few weeks, I believe it is best we get to know one another. I understand you will not wish to divulge personal secrets, so I will not try to get you to tell them. However, that does not mean we cannot enjoy a friendship of…”
He slammed a fist on the table. “Do you not understand?” he shouted. “We are not friends! I am not here to learn from you or you from me! Your stubbornness knows no bounds!”
With a nod, she cupped her hands around the mug and stared into the amber liquid. “I understand,” she whispered before looking up at him. She did not know who he truly was, but for some reason she could not explain, she felt…compassion? Yes, she felt compassion for the man. “Sometimes I wish I knew who I really am.”
Why had she said that? This was to be about learning more about him, and she says something so silly? And yet, it was a question she had asked herself often. Who was she truly?
Rather than responding, he turned away. “Finish your drink,” he said brusquely. “It is late, and tomorrow we have things we must do.”
With a nod, Annabel turned and looked out the window, her mind on Scarlett Hall. She missed her aunt terribly and she hoped the woman was safe. However, as the thoughts came to her, she looked back at Edward. He still faced away from her, seemingly deep in thought, and she could not help but wonder what those thoughts could be. Would he reveal anything about himself before all this was over?
Chapter Fourteen
After a lovely breakfast of eggs, bread, and tea prepared by Edward, Annabel accompanied him outside. The sky was clear and a gentle breeze blew as they walked side by side in the back garden and out to an open field behind the cottage.
Annabel had spent a goodly amount of the morning considering her actions of the previous night. She was indeed inexperienced, but how innocent did this man believe her to be?
“You said I was naive,” she said as they passed through a small gate. “Could you explain what you meant?”
“It is not a riddle,” he replied gruffly. “You, much like most ladies, have been sheltered from the world. There are many things of which you do not, nor ever will, know.”
He closed the gate behind them and motioned her forward. The long grass tickled her stockinged legs above her boots. With a glance up at the sun, she wished she had a bonnet. By this time tomorrow, she could be a walking freckle! She almost laughed at the thought. You may be dead within the month. Who cares if you freckle?
“I may not be as experienced as you believe I am,” she said, “but I have been on many adventures and have even engaged in a business venture.” She ignored his snort. “Perhaps one might consider me naive in that I see the best in people. Well, most of the time. I knew immediately the cobbler was no good.”
He came to a stop in the middle of the open field, flowers scattered around them. With a sigh, he turned to her. The sunlight made his brown eyes light up, and the stubble on his chin made him handsome. It was the oddest of observations, especially since the man was her kidnapper.
“You have mentioned this cobbler before. Surely a simple craftsman is not the villain you make him out to be.”
“Oh, but he is,” she insisted. “He tricked me and my cousin Juliet. Well, mostly she, for my guard was up, but he tricked us, nonetheless.”
“And how did he trick you?” he asked as if he doubted her story.
“He convinced Juliet and me to invest in his business. Then, Juliet convinced several of her friends to do the same. One day, I was alone with him, and he told me he had a birthday surprise for me.” She shivered at the memory and crossed her arms over her stomach. “It was a surprise I did not expect, for the man kissed me. He told me that I would be required to kiss him often and that I had no choice in the matter.”
Edward laughed, much to her chagrin. “That is all?” he asked. “A simple swindler kissed you and took a few pounds?”
Annabel bristled. “Stealing a kiss as the man did is a crime,” she said. “Do you not see the cruelness of it? Especially when he wanted more and blackmailed me in order to get them.”
“You ask this of the man who has kidnapped you?” he said with a snort. “That is why you are naive.”
All the confidence Annabel had managed to muster dissipated, and she had to fight back tears. Had she not sworn she was finished with weeping!
“Take heart,” Edward said, “for the travesty of what you have endured will pass.”
“It is not the greatest of travesties, and I know you mock me, but at least I am willing to make an attempt at conversation rather than be stubborn like you.” She clamped her mouth shut. Had she gone too far? Would he become angry with her for speaking her mind? Well, if he did, she did not care. She would enjoy what was left of her life, as short as that was.
They arrived at a small creek at the bottom of an embankment. The sound of the flowing water soothed her prickled pride, and she watched a twig float down the current. How far did this creek go? Would it take her back to Scarlett Hall if she were to follow it? Homesickness washed over her as her thoughts once again returned to her aunt and cousins.
When the twig disappeared from view, she turned to look at Edward, who gazed as if he were in deep thought. She was curious as to what he could be thinking, and she considered what had made the man become a kidnapper.
“You are staring at me again,” he said. “I suspect you are plotting ways to kill me. Will you drown me in this creek?”
“No. I was thinking of you being a kidnapper. Surely you were not trained by your parents to be one.”
“I was not.”
She turned her gaze to the other side of the creek. “I do not suppose there are finishing schools for highwaymen. May I ask how you came to learn your skill? If that is what it may be called.”
He turned and sighed. “I assume you will ask endless questions over the next month. Did your family face this barrage of questions, as well?”
Annabel shook her head. “I am usually quiet, perhaps too quiet if what others say is true.”
“Then why do you feel the need to talk to me so incessantly?” he asked, his exasperation clear in his tone.
“I do not know,” Annabel replied with a frown. “I think it is because I believe you are actually a good person.” He chuckled, but she ignored him. “Yes, you are my kidnapper, and you fooled me into allowing you a kiss and to lead me away. But I do not believe you are inherently bad. Or rather, you are not evil. Perhaps you are a bit misguided.”
Edward looked over the river and said nothing for several moments. Then he turned and said, “I was brought up in a titled family, if you must know. I became ill and lost everything. When a man has no friends or family, he becomes desperate. Am I evil? I am uncertain. However, you are the only person I have kidnapped.”
Annabel raised her eyebrows. “I am your first victim? I suppose one could view this as an honor. Do you plan on doing it again?”
“No.” His response came without hesitation.
“If I am your first victim, how is it you have made money before?”
The man rubbed his brow with a groan. “I have stolen fine horses, art, and even wooed a few women into giving me money.”
“Oh.” She was surprised at his words. “Then you are a thief rather than a kidnapper?”
“Yes.”
Annabel’s curiosity grew. “Your charade as the marquess, Don Ricardo. How did you learn to do that?”
This time when Edward laughed, it had not a bit of mockery behin
d it. “I had an affection for the theater,” he replied. “As a child, I performed alone, creating stories and performing them for imagined friends. Later, I created Don Ricardo and perfected him.”
“I find this all so very fascinating,” she said. “Although, I do not…”
“We have said enough,” he said, his voice now bitter. “It is time to return to the house.”
They made their way to the cottage in silence, and Annabel thought over the story the man had told. A titled family. A love for the theater. Was what he said true or were these more tales?
Lost in thought, she paid little attention to where she placed her steps and tripped over a large rock that protruded from the ground. With a cry, she tumbled to the ground, a sharp pain radiating from her ankle.
Before she could blink, Edward was at her side. “You must watch where you are walking.”
“I am sorry,” she said, feeling foolish once again. “I was thinking and did not pay attention.” Then her eyes widened when he placed his hands on her ankle.
“Is there pain?”
“Yes, quite a bit,” she replied, although that was not entirely the truth. Granted, it throbbed but it was not nearly as bad as it could have been. “If you would allow me perhaps an hour to rest, I should be able to hobble back to the cottage.” She would have to thank Juliet when she saw her again for giving her the idea.
“I do not want to wait that long,” he said. He placed an arm beneath her knees and one behind her back and lifted her as easily as if he were lifting a sack of grain.
She placed a hand on his chest—to keep herself from falling, she told herself—and felt the warm skin beneath his shirt. “Do you mean to carry me since I am in distress?”
“I said I do not wish to wait,” was his reply.
Annabel gave a slight nod and rested her hand on his arm. Although she had taken notice of the muscles before, to touch them was a whole new experience. She found she enjoyed the feel of his muscles, and all thoughts of who he was left her and new ones replaced them. This was much like her dreams of a great hero!
She kept her hand on his arm, and when he carried her back through the gate, a new thought struck her, one that brought hope. Not only had her assumption been correct that this man was indeed good, but she had no reason to believe her life was not safe. A true villain would never carry a lady who had hurt her ankle, and she suspected that true kidnappers were never kind in any way.
“You are not going to kill me, are you?” she said, more a statement than a question. When he paused, she added, “No matter the outcome of this, you will not do it, will you?”
He looked down at her, and the words he spoke were simple yet sweet. “No, I will not hurt you.”
***
Annabel had come to a number of simple conclusions as she lay in bed, her foot propped up by a pillow. The first was that it was a relief that Edward would not hurt her as she had first thought; he had said as much and she believed him. It had been the first indication that she would be safe once the ransom was received, and the relief had been immense. To know she would not die, that she would see her family again, made the day all the brighter.
The second conclusion she came to was that she had to find out more about this man who held her captive, for he was a contradiction. Here he was, a kidnapper and a thief, if not more, and he had become so distressed at the fact she had fallen and hurt her ankle that he was now massaging her foot! The man did not seem concerned that her ankle showed, although she most certainly did. And she did not care one whit, which only made it all the stranger.
“Is that better?” he asked. “I have worked it for a while now and there appears to be no swelling.”
Annabel forced a sigh. “If you must quit, you may,” she said before taking a sip of the wine he had poured her. “Most of the pain has subsided.”
He mumbled something unintelligible and returned to lightly rubbing her foot once more. No, he most certainly was not the evil highwayman he had attempted to appear. Her instincts concerning his character had been correct. They typically were, although she did not know how she knew what lay beneath a person’s exterior.
One thing was certain. If she was to be held here for an extended period of time, she would make the most of the situation and enjoy it. Of all the adventures she had encountered, most with Juliet, this would be the greatest. Who would have thought that the life of a captive could be so agreeable?
As Edward continued to massage her foot, Annabel’s mind began to wander, as it was wont to do. She escaped into a world of her own, where she was in a castle and Edward was a knight who had bested a ruffian in the village who was hurting others less able than he. His opponent ran away in fear, and the people carried Edward to her throne upon which she sat.
“I will give you any reward you desire as payment for this wondrous deed,” she said as she looked down from her perch.
He looked up at her with admiration in his eyes. “I wish to rub your feet.”
It was an odd request, but had she not said any reward? So, she removed her slippers and put her feet forward. “You, sir knight, are not only brave but a wonderful worker of feet,” she said. “I can see you find great honor in doing this deed.”
“I believe your foot is fine,” he said as he rose from the bed. “You should try walking on it to see if there is any pain.”
Starting, she glanced around the tiny room as the dream faded from her thoughts. Thank goodness she had not spoken her imaginary words aloud! She nodded and placed her glass on the small side table before swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. “If it is not too much to ask,” she said as she lifted her hands toward him.
He groaned but took her hands in his. “I suppose there is no point in arguing with you,” he mumbled. His touch made that feeling of safety return.
She stepped gingerly on her foot and sighed. “The pain is gone. Thank you for helping me.”
He snorted. “I only wish to not be forced to hear you complain,” he said. “My ears hurt from it. I will see to dinner.” He released her hands and turned toward the door.
Annabel picked up the glass of wine and smiled at the memory of what he had done for her. It was not simply the act she relished, nor his touch, but the kindness he had shown her. A kindness no man who meant harm would demonstrate.
As naive as he said she was, she recognized a person with a good heart when she saw him. This man of mystery was many things, but a man of ill intent was not one of them. She was more certain of it now than ever before.
Chapter Fifteen
Edward sat in a chair by the window as thunder rattled the frame and rain flowed in heavy streams down the panes. Only a week had passed since bringing Annabel to the cottage, yet it felt like years. As he stared out at the storm, he contemplated the last ten years.
How strange life could be. And how quickly it could change. One moment he was a viscount with a vast estate and in good standing, and the next he was a vagabond and a criminal. If he had not put his trust in that one particular person, perhaps his life would have evolved into something far different.
Sighing, he took a sip of his brandy. Across from him sat the object of why he was in a strange cottage. She looked different in the burlap dress, although she was still beautiful despite the less elegant style of clothing. At least now she would not stand out when they were outside, not that they would be able to go out today in this weather.
The woman’s blue eyes spoke of her innocence, as much as her questions revealed her curiosity. Everything about her mesmerized him, and he had no idea why.
She should have been no more than a means to an end, but something about her made her more. Perhaps it was how her eyes had lit up in anger the day they arrived at the cottage—a fire that had erupted when she thought he would ravage her. The woman would prove to be a worthy foe to anyone if she learned the strength she possessed.
He knew she had lived a life of leisure just as most of her peers, yet he felt as if she carr
ied a great burden. She had eluded to those burdens on more than one occasion, and he found himself wishing to know more.
“Last week you mentioned that you cause heartache to those around you,” he said, keeping a casual, almost uncaring, tone to his voice. It would do no good to make her believe he truly had an interest in her. He still had no idea what he was going to do once the ransom came through. “What did you do that was so wrong?”
Annabel looked down at the cup in her hands. “Many things,” she said with a sigh. “I was born a boy, first of all. Father now has no heir and I am a great disappointment to him and Mother.”
“You may believe that, but I doubt that it is true.”
She shook her head adamantly. “Oh, no, it is true. They have told me as much many times.” She sighed. “When I met you and Lord Lockwood at Caroline’s party, it was my first party since turning eighteen.”
“You mentioned as much.” He took a drink to hide the smile at the recollection at Lord Thrup pointing out Annabel to him. How the woman had made his heart race!
“Although I accepted your card to call over to Scarlett Hall, I already had a suitor. A man who wished to marry me.”
Edward laughed. “You are not as innocent as I thought. Were you simply tempting me? Or was there another purpose for the game you played?”
“I am not one to tempt, I assure you. Nor do I play games.” She looked toward the window, and her eyes took on a distant look. “You see, Father and Mother wanted me to marry that particular man. They told me I had no choice.”
“That is not unusual. Surely you know this happens often.”
She nodded. “I am aware of the customary handling of marriages. You must understand, however, that the man is thrice my age and has kissed me against my will even before asking my father for my hand.”
Edward shifted in his chair. Why did it bother him that a man had treated her so?
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