Annalise spent more time watching Duncan than anything else. Even when building a snowman, he was entirely focused and meticulous. Everything he did was with a purpose in mind, intent and alert, no hint of distraction. His brow would pucker ever so slightly when he was concentrating, and it was the most adorable sight in the world, and she felt her love for him grow yet again.
Suddenly, she needed to see him smile. She chewed her lip momentarily, pretending to consider her side of the snowman. Then she bent and scooped more snow, as if to add it to the snowman, and when he was not looking, she tossed it at Duncan. It rained down upon him as if from the sky and he looked at her in surprise.
His eyes narrowed. “Was that on purpose?”
She forced herself to look entirely innocent. “Was what on purpose?”
He hummed and gave her a serious look, then returned to his work.
Fighting back laughter, she scooped up more, only to feel a bit of snow hit her in the back. She reared up and gaped in shock, but Duncan only grinned.
Suddenly they were diving for snow, balling it up, and tossing it at each other. Duncan had some particularly excellent shots, but he was putting very little force behind them. Annalise was not as effective, but the ones she did land on him were fairly sharp. He began to run after her, pelting her with small snowballs, and she ran, lobbing some behind her as best as she could. She was far too busy laughing and running to aim carefully, and she heard his panting laughter from behind, so he was not accurate either.
She found herself quite unexpectedly grabbed from behind and tackled into a small snow bank, her laughter knocked out of her only momentarily. She struggled and rolled, taking him with her and they rolled for some time, snow scattering and finding all the crevices in her exposed skin. Eventually the rolling ceased and all that was left was the two of them side by side, laughing breathlessly. She turned her head and looked at him, only to find him smiling at her, his laughter fading.
Her breath caught at his expression. It was warm and open, joyful and admiring, and entirely captivating. She could have stared at him for years and never missed anything else. His eyes scanned her face, and he was no longer laughing, though his chest was still moving with far too much force.
She felt it, too, and knew she looked much the same. There was suddenly no air for either of them. She felt dizzy, warm, cold, numb, invigorated… So many emotions and sensations all at once that she could not tell where any started and ended.
Duncan reached out a hand and cupped her cheek, stroking it softly. He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Which was a ridiculous notion, he was only staring at her.
But his look said as much as his kisses ever had.
Perhaps even more…
“Duncan! Whatever are you two doing? What are you thinking, taking Anne out of doors in this cold?”
Tibby’s voice was both shrill and scolding, and broke the moment so perfectly that Annalise burst into helpless giggles.
Duncan grinned and tucked her into his chest, effectively stifling it against him. “Nothing, Tibby. Just having some fun in the snow,” he called back, somehow managing to sound innocent and amused.
His aunt’s huff could be heard from there. “Well, stop it and come inside at once! We have several engagements this evening that require you both to be properly thawed out!”
Annalise felt his hold on her tighten briefly and his chest seemed to buzz with restrained laughter. “Of course, Tibby. We shall be in momentarily!”
“I am having them build up the fire in the library and fetching some blankets!” she called, walking back to the house. “Honestly, the idiocy of men, what he was thinking…”
Once clear of her, they released their laughter fully. Duncan rose and helped her up, brushing snow off of her coat and dress, and she did the same with him. They avoided looking into each other’s eyes, and for Annalise’s part, she could not bear to think on what had just passed, and what might have been.
She suspected Duncan felt the same.
She shivered and felt pressure at her elbow. She looked up into Duncan’s warm smile.
“Come on,” he said, escorting her towards the house. “Tibby waits for no one. You’ll be warm again soon.”
“I hadn’t even noticed,” she murmured, blushing furiously.
Duncan cleared his throat, and the pressure at her elbow increased.
Duncan could not stop watching her. They were wrapped tightly in blankets and sitting before the fire in the library, and her gaze was intent upon the flames, but he could not look anywhere else. She was so breathtakingly beautiful it made his chest ache in a deep and profound way. Her hair was a bit mussed, her cheeks still rosy from being outside, and she was shivering so violently he could see it from where he sat.
He had never seen anything so lovely in his life.
He was beginning to feel warmer, but she had been shaking for several minutes now, and given her slight frame, he doubted that would change any time soon.
She had to know how he felt. She had to see it in his eyes, how he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, how his control was in shambles, and he was finding moments to be near her for no other reason than because it made him come to life to be close to her. He was so in love with her that his lips burned with the desire to tell her.
He had never in his life felt more empty than he had when she had spoken of Thorpe and her fears. He was overcome with relief that she was here with him, that he could protect her, that she had come into his life at all. All he wanted was her happiness, her safety, her well-being.
All he wanted was her.
He wished he knew how to tell her just what she meant to him. He wished he knew how to calm her fears. He wished…
“Come here,” he said softly.
She glanced over at him, her teeth chattering. “W-what?”
He smiled and opened his blanket. “You are freezing, and it makes me cold to watch you shiver. Come over here and let me help you warm up.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
She had no idea.
His smile broadened. “Well, how brave are you?”
He’d meant to say, “how cold are you,” but he chose not to correct himself. After all, he desperately wanted to know the answer to the question he had asked, not the one he meant to.
His favorite small smile appeared and suddenly she was hurrying over to him, her blanket wrapped tightly about her. She settled into his side and he instinctively wrapped his blanket around them both, fighting the gasp at how chilled she really was. She laid her cheek against his chest, directly over his pounding heart, and released the smallest of sighs.
He’d have been quite pleased to die at this moment, had he not thought the future before him could have given him more moments like this one, and perhaps even better.
If he were so fortunate.
“I am so tired,” she whispered sleepily.
He pressed his lips against her chilled skin. “Go to sleep, love. I’ll keep you safe and warm.”
“I know,” she replied faintly, her breathing deepening.
Duncan slowly rubbed circles on her back, staring absently into the fire before them. He settled himself more fully back against the sofa, careful not to disturb the precious cargo in his hold, and allowed himself to release a sigh of contentment.
He had been considering it for some time, but holding her in his arms in this moment, playing with her in the snow before, and hearing her deepest fears earlier, combined with everything he had been feeling and had kept pent up inside, proved to him just one thing: he had to have her. This false engagement of theirs had to become a real one.
What had begun as an enterprise to save her just might, in fact, have been the thing that saved him. What he thought would break him had instead inspired him. He could never have imagined what an engagement to Annalise would have felt like, and though theirs was false and all for show, his emotions were everything but.
Somehow, he wou
ld have to convince her to take a chance on him, to accept his hand in truth, not just for the public.
This was real for him. This was all there would be for him.
It would be her or no one.
Nothing.
He had to have her.
He pressed his lips to her hair, inhaled her sweet scent, and desperately wished for his heart’s desire to be fulfilled.
Chapter Twenty
Annalise had never been so happy in her entire life. Dozing against Duncan, she was not only warm, but secure and content, two feelings she had hardly ever known. If she could have anything in her life, it would be to never leave this moment.
Pity they were disturbed.
“Pardon me, sir,” an embarrassed maid murmured with a curtsey. “But Lady Raeburn bid me come and see if you were ready to change for dinner.”
Duncan sighed and dropped his arms from around her. She fought the whimper of protest that rose, but somehow he heard it in spite of herself and his eyes were suddenly fierce and intense, and he lightly touched a finger to her lips. She shied away, suddenly too shy to even look at him, and wrapped her blanket tightly around her, though she had not been cold for a long while.
“Yes, we are ready,” Duncan answered the maid, keeping his tone polite. “I’ll just be escorting Miss Ramsey to her room and then we shall both be ready soon. You may inform Lady Raeburn of that.”
She bobbed a curtsey and shuffled out of the room, leaving the door pointedly open.
Annalise hid a smile at that. Even still, the servants disapproved of her. It was refreshing to know that not everything had changed.
“What is that smile for?” Duncan asked softly, reaching out to touch the corner of her mouth.
She shook her head, tucking the smile away and giving him a bit of an impish look. “Nothing at all. What am I supposed to wear today?”
He shrugged and shook his head. “I never know anymore. Something fine and flattering, I suppose, which means you could pick just about any gown in your arsenal and exceed expectations.”
She giggled and blushed, rapping his chest sharply and moving away to a safer distance. “Stop.”
His slow grin curved and he followed, holding out his arm properly to escort her. “I told you, I only tell the truth.”
“Well, stop saying it out loud,” she laughed as she looped her hand through his and let him lead her on. “It makes me blush something frightful.”
“I’ve already told you,” he murmured softly so others would not hear, “I love to see you blush. And it won’t stop me from praising you just because you are uncomfortable with it.”
She rolled her eyes, even as her heart skittered. They were treading on some very serious ground here, and she was not sure she could bear it. Not if she were to be disappointed in the end. Was it better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all?
She supposed she would be one of few people who would know the difference.
Love was infinitely better.
But losing it once you had had it…
Would that pain be worse than what she had endured before?
She stole a glance at Duncan and felt her heart plummet to her toes at the thought of losing him.
Yes, her mind cried out in agony. Yes, it would be worse.
Duncan’s gaze was intense on the steps before him, his hand now warmly covering hers, and he was suddenly gnawing on his lip. His brow was puckered, but his motions fluid. He was deep in thought, oblivious to the world around him.
His thumb brushed her hand absently, over and over, and as it had happened in the library, her skin tingled with the sensation. He had thought himself relaxing her, but she had been near ready to come out of her skin. Not that it was not a pleasant sensation, but the touch of his hand would never fail to stir her in the most shocking of ways.
Ah, so he was not quite oblivious then.
He may have been lost in thought, but she was there with him.
An intense feeling of pride, joy, and love swelled within her and she found herself leaning into him a little more than before. She couldn’t help it; he drew her to him. Just as he had that first day they had met. She could not resist him then; and now? Now she knew him and loved him, and resistance was impossible, and unthinkable.
All too soon, they were to her rooms and he hesitated outside of them. He looked at her for a long moment, then reached for her other hand and held both in his.
“Annalise…” he said quietly, looking down at their hands. Hers were so small compared to his, but there was an odd sort of artistic air about the way they looked when joined.
“Yes?”
He raised his eyes to hers, then brought their joined hands up and stroked her cheek with the back of one of his hands. He shook his head and leaned forward, pressing his lips softly to hers. Feather-light, warm, grazing, his lips were a wonder yet again as the feelings said more than they could have ever expressed. Neither of them had talent for speaking.
But when he kissed her…
“Annalise,” he whispered against her skin, the heat in her name sending shivers skittering across her skin. “I…”
“Fire!”
Where the cry had come from, they could not tell, but several other voices took it up, and Duncan snapped back, away from her, and the moment was broken.
“What?” he yelled to whoever it had been.
“Fire! Fire!” other voices called. “In the stables!”
They ran to the window of her bedroom and saw the stables, down a bit from her rooms, but still rather close to the house. The roof of the stables was now blazing and they could hear the horses screeching in terror.
Duncan swore under his breath and ran from the room. “Stay here,” he ordered behind him. “It will be too dangerous.”
Annalise covered her mouth with her hands and turned back to the window. The stables were fairly vast, considering the smaller size of the house, but Duncan loved riding so much it was a worthy investment. If there were any losses there, she prayed they would be purely structural.
The proximity to the house was a concern, what if the fire spread?
She turned to go warn Marianne and Tibby, if they were not already aware, when a footman appeared at the door, in full and perfect livery, a silver platter before him. “Letter for you, Miss Ramsey,” he intoned, bowing slightly. It only took one glance at the handwriting to know who it was from.
Hands shaking, she reached out to take it. Her heart might well have left her chest and she swallowed hard. “Th-thank you, Thomas.”
He bowed once more and left, apparently unconcerned about her state or the fire just outside.
She moved to the window, where she could now see Duncan fighting the fire with the stable hands. She touched the glass lightly, as if she could have touched him from here. She dreaded what this letter would say, but she had little doubt of it as well.
She broke the seal and read the lines:
I warned you that terrible things would happen if you did not agree to my demands. I will destroy the lives of those you hold dear if you should continue to deny my requests. This is simply a taste of what I am willing and able to bring about. If you value the lives of Lady Raeburn and your precious Mr. Bray, you will meet me outside of the inn at Trafalgar, unaccompanied, and without warning a single creature. Do not test me again, Annie. Lives are in your hands.
She released a pained sob that she quickly stifled, tears raining down from her eyes and onto the paper. She tore it in pieces and flung it across the room, then buried her face into the curtains that hung by her window. She knew he had been watching, had been waiting, would not rest. But even she had not thought he would resort to this.
She heard yelling and glanced out of the window again. The fire was not under control yet, and more men were coming to help fight the flames. Duncan was in the thick of the melee, bellowing orders like the army man he was, but not too proud or proper to shoulder the brunt of the work himself.
Ho
w she loved him! How precious he was to her!
She had to save him. It was her turn to do the protecting.
Sobs overtook her as she quickly went to her closet and stripped her gown off, reaching for the plainest, dullest hand-me-down from Mary’s sister. The dress she had arrived in had been ceremoniously burned by Tibby, or she would have worn that one. She still had her old shawl and boots, and she pulled them out to numbly put those on as well. She removed her earrings and pins, plaiting her hair simply, her fingers aching with every twist of her hair.
She quickly picked up the pieces of Thorpe’s scattered note and moved to throw them into the fire. Then she caught sight of the ring on her finger. She felt a combination of moan and whimper rise within her and she pried it off, kissed it, then set it on the table nearest her, along with the crumpled bits of letter. She pulled a few sheets of paper from the neat stack in the corner and tried to think of what she could say to Duncan and the rest that would make amends for the betrayal she was about to commit.
How could she apologize enough? How could she thank them enough? How could she ever say what she truly felt?
She tried several times, crumpling up the tear stained pages and tossing them towards the fire. Finally, she had said what she felt in the simplest of terms, set her ring atop the page, and whirled from the room, her tears blinding her way.
The fire had the entire house so distracted that no one noticed her leave. No one marked her at all.
That was as it should be.
She ran down the street, never once looking back. She could not bear to look upon her shattered hopes and dreams. They were not to be, after all. Her future was before her, bleak and terrifying and horrible as it was.
But, at long last, she was the one being brave and noble.
And that was all she could cling to now.
Annalise was gone.
Even now, hours after it had been discovered that she was missing, the words were incomprehensible. How could she be gone? She was the most vibrant part of his life, the only thing in his life that made sense.
The Dangers of Doing Good (Arrangements, Book 4) Page 26
