“That,” she whispered as she softly pressed her palm over his thundering heart, “was more than I ever dreamed it could be.”
Lucas opened his eyes. When he did, all of the good he had felt - all of the promise - faded away, leaving him with the doubts and the demons that had chased him his entire life. Doubts that made him feel so undeserving of love. Demons that reminded him he was going to end up just like his father one day: an old, bitter man who took out his anger and disappointment on the backs of those closest to him.
I will not allow it tae happen, he told himself fiercely. I cannot hurt the ones I love if I never love anyone. I will not be my father. I will not make the same mistakes he did.
“Lucas, wait.” Annabel scrambled to grab onto his arm when he abruptly turned and opened the door, but he shook her off. “Where are you going? You cannot leave. Not yet.”
A gust of freezing cold air whipped into the foyer, catching him full across the face. He welcomed the sting of it. It helped to remind him why he’d always been alone. Why he needed to be alone. In the end, he would be doing Annabel a favor. She was nothing more than a lass caught in the throes of love at first sight. When she came to her senses, she would realize what she felt for him was infatuation and lust, nothing more.
“Stop!” she said shrilly, clinging helplessly to the edges of the doorframe as he stepped out into the night. “Lucas, please stop. I - I know I came on a bit strongly, but I have never felt this way before and - will you stop and look at me?”
Slowly, deliberately, Lucas turned and waited until her hurt, bewildered gaze met his to say, “If ye are ever in the mood for a quick tup, lass, look me up. Other than that, kindly feck off.”
CHAPTER TEN
“Annabel, you have to get out of bed.”
“Why?” Annabel said miserably, her voice muffled as she pulled the covers up and over her head. Burrowing in like a squirrel, she resisted Delilah’s attempts to yank the covers away. “Leave me alone,” she complained. “I do not feel well.”
“I know you don’t, but that does not mean you can continue to hide up here and - oomph!” Delilah cried as Annabel abruptly let go of the covers and she landed on the floor in a heap of disheveled quilts and sheets. “That was uncalled for.”
“But quite funny.” Snickering - the first time she’d managed to laugh since Lucas’ abrupt departure - Annabel sat up and hugged a pillow against her chest as she stared down at her best friend sprawled in a pile of blankets. “I am sorry. I should not have done that.”
“No,” Delilah huffed as she untangled herself from a particularly stubborn sheet and got to her feet, “you should not have. I am only trying to help, you know. Christmas is in three days-”
“Christmas is what?” Annabel demanded. Goodness. Had she truly been moping about the house for two entire weeks? How utterly embarrassing. Not to mention a complete waste of time. Who would have ever thought that she, Annabel Blackbourne, would be pining for a man? And before her favorite holiday, no less!
“In three days,” Delilah repeated patiently. “Which means tonight we are going caroling. And I - what are you doing?”
“Putting some clothes on! Oh, where is my dress with the green trim?” Jumping out of bed and racing across the bedroom to her armoire, Annabel flung open both doors and began yanking out garments left and right. Stepping up beside her, Delilah pointed at a gown hanging to the far left.
“There,” she said helpfully. “Is that it?”
“Yes.” Sliding the dress free from its hanger, Annabel held it up in front of the window.
Comprised of muslin with a silk front overlay, the dress had a square cut bodice and long, tapered sleeves trimmed in delicate white lace. It was truly a beautiful gown, made specifically for the holiday season, and Annabel had been eagerly counting down the months until she could wear it caroling.
“It is quite stunning,” Delilah remarked. “Much finer than mine.”
“Nonsense. The dress you picked out for caroling is just as beautiful. Besides, the only part of our dresses anyone is going to be able to see beneath our pelisses are the hems.”
“Then why bother wearing such fancy gowns at all?”
“Because,” Annabel said softly as her heart gave a painful lurch inside of her chest, “what you can’t see is just as important as what you can.”
Retreating to the bed, Delilah sat on the edge of the mattress and thoughtfully propped her chin in the palm of her hand. “Are you ready to speak about Mr. O’Brian yet? It has been thirteen days, you know. Fourteen, if you count today, which you really should since it is nearly halfway over.”
Heedless of creating wrinkles, Annabel clasped the green gown to her chest and began to pace the length of her bedroom. The wooden floorboards were cold beneath her bare feet; a silent testament to the freezing weather outside the window panes.
Winter had descended upon London with a vengeance, dropping more snow in one week than they’d seen all last year. After Lucas’ abrupt departure snow had fallen for three days straight, making it all but impossible to go outdoors. Trapped inside, the Blackbourne’s and the Swan sisters had spent hours upon hours reading, playing chess, and inventing silly word games to keep themselves from dying of boredom.
Only Annabel had remained in her room, her heart as heavy as the snow piling up outside. She knew she was being wretchedly melancholy, but try as she might she couldn’t seem to pull herself out of the doldrums. It had been a new experience for her; to feel so downtrodden while those around her were so happy and content. She knew everyone thought her foolish and they’d tried time and time again to lift her spirits, but she’d been trapped in her own little world, her thoughts consumed with what she should have said and what she should have done before Lucas slammed out of the house, his cruel words echoing in his wake.
Unfortunately, the thing about ‘should haves’ was once you began thinking about them, it was quite difficult to stop, which was no doubt how two entire weeks had flown by without her even noticing.
Two weeks trapped inside.
Two weeks without a word from Lucas.
Two weeks regretting every word she’d spoken to him.
How ridiculous he must have thought her! And how he must have laughed after he’d left. For all she knew he was laughing still, and her cheeks still burned with embarrassment whenever she recalled some of the things she’d said.
They had barely known each other’s names, and she had all but told him was in love with him! No wonder he’d asked if she was daft. After replaying every word of their conversation over and over and over again she felt a bit daft.
But no more, she thought with newfound determination.
No more sulking.
No more dreaming of ‘should haves’.
No more wishing Lucas would waltz through the door, pick her up in his strong arms, and kiss her senseless.
Real life was not a fairy-tale, and the man she had so foolishly fallen in love with was certainly no knight in shining armor. He was everything her mother had warned her about and then some. His last words to her were proof enough of that.
If ye are ever in the mood for a quick tup, lass, look me up. Other than that, kindly feck off.
“Bastard,” she muttered under her breath.
“What was that?” Delilah asked.
“Nothing.”
“But I thought you said–”
“It does not matter,” she said firmly. At least, not anymore.
“If you say so,” said Delilah, although she did not sound very convinced.
“Come on.” Gesturing for her friend to stand up, Annabel flounced to the door and rang for her personal maid, a young girl of sixteen with a sunny disposition and a wondrous eye for hair design. “Go to your room and get the dress you are going to wear caroling. We can get ready together.”
“This is a remarkable turnaround,” Delilah noted.
“Well, I am feeling much better.”
“But what about–”
Annabel stiffened. “I do not wish to discuss it.”
“I can see that, but what if–”
“Delilah,” she hissed through gritted teeth, “I said I do not wish to discuss it!”
For a moment she thought the owl-eyed brunette was not going to let the matter drop, but with an absent shrug of her shoulders Delilah did just that. “Very well. If you say so. But,” she called over her shoulder as she crossed the hall to the bedroom she shared with Temperance, “just because you sweep a bit of dirt under the rug does not mean it is gone!”
Icy wind swept across Annabel’s cheeks and snow seeped into her ankle boots, but she was too filled with joy to notice.
One hundred pounds!
In a little over two hours, they’d collected one hundred pounds for the less fortunate. It was nothing short of a miracle, and every woman in the caroling brigade had an extra bounce in their step as they walked through the middle of Grosvenor Square.
Always the leader – whether she realized it or not – Lynette was in front of their small group, while Annabel, Delilah, and Temperance had fallen to the back.
“My voice is completely hoarse,” Temperance remarked, although the bright smile on her face said it had been well worth the effort.
“Mine is as well,” Delilah croaked.
“I am perfectly fine,” said Annabel. In truth, she felt better than fine. For the first time in nearly two weeks, she actually felt like herself again! Just thinking about all of the families they were going to help filled her with a wonderful sense of euphoria. Nothing could spoil her good mood. Nothing except-
“Wait.” Delilah stopped so suddenly that Temperance ran into her.
“Watch where you are going!” the middle Swan sister complained. “I am cold enough, thank you very much! I do not need to eat the snow on top of having it inside my boots!”
“Be quiet,” Delilah whispered, “and look. Over there. By that building.”
“What are looking at?” Temperance demanded.
“Not what,” said Delilah. “Who.”
Even before she turned her head to follow the direction of her friend’s gaze, Annabel felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Her worst fears were confirmed when she looked at the tea shop Delilah was pointing at…and saw who was standing in front of it.
Lucas O’Brian.
Even if he weren’t staring straight at her she would have recognized him anywhere. They may have only been in each other’s company for a few short hours, but it had been enough time for her to memorize the width of his shoulders and the cant of his head.
Without thinking, she started to go to him, but Temperance and Delilah yanked her back.
“What are you doing?” Temperance hissed in her ear. “You cannot see him now. Everyone will notice!”
“They will,” Delilah agreed with a solemn nod.
“I do not care if they do.” Vehemently shaking her head from side to side, Annabel refused to tear her gaze away from Lucas. He was dressed all in black except for a red scarf wound around his neck. The same red scarf he’d worn on the day that they’d met.
Temperance sighed in exasperation. “If you are going to take a secret lover, at least meet him in secret. Honestly, doesn’t anyone know how this is done?”
“What would you know about a secret lover?” Delilah asked suspiciously.
“Absolutely nothing,” Temperance said quickly. A bit too quickly, Annabel noted, and she would have said something if her mind wasn’t completely focused on someone else.
Surely it was no coincidence that Lucas was standing only fifty yards away looking right at her. Somehow, someway, he had known she was going to be here. Of course, it wouldn’t have been very difficult. Her caroling group had just been traipsing through Grosvenor Square singing as loudly as they possibly could for the better part of two hours. Only a deaf fool could have missed them, and Lucas was neither deaf nor foolish.
But what was he doing here? And why had he come?
She had to find out.
“What should I do?” she whispered urgently after casting an anxious glance at the front of their group. Lynette was leading everyone else further and further away, and soon it would become very apparent that they’d stopped.
“Arrange a time to meet him,” Temperance said matter-of-factly.
“Meet him where?”
“Here, of course. We’re only three blocks from home. It shouldn’t be too hard for you to get back out again. Delilah and I can cover for you. How long do you think it will take you?”
Mind racing, Annabel said, “Two – no, three hours. I will have to wait until my parents are asleep.”
“It is…hold on a moment...” Procuring a tiny watch from the inside pocket of her pelisse, Delilah squinted as she held it up into the light emanating from the candle she was carrying. “Nearly eight o’clock now. Which means you can be back here at six…wait, that’s not right.” Notoriously bad at figures, her entire face scrunched up as she tried to calculate the correct answer. “If you include the eight when you count forward by three, then that will make it–”
“Eleven,” Temperance said with exasperation. “Tell him you can meet him here at eleven.”
“I was about to figure it out!” Delilah protested.
“Well we haven’t all night now, do we?”
Ignoring their squabbling, Annabel turned back to Lucas. She held up all ten fingers, closed both hands into two tiny fists, and then held up one more.
He nodded as if he understood. Their gazes lingered, neither one willing to be the first to look away, until with a tiny huff of breath Temperance grabbed Annabel’s arm and dragged her down the street after Lynette and the rest of the carolers.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“She has gone after him,” Lady Townsend said softly.
Joining his wife at their bedroom window overlooking the street below, Lord Townsend settled his hands on her rounded hips and drew her against his chest. “So she has,” he murmured into her hair. There were more white strands than blonde now, but to his eyes she had never looked more beautiful. For him it had always been her, and he drew quiet pleasure from the knowledge that in thirty-seven years of marriage they had never spoken ill of one another.
“We should go fetch her.” Lady Townsend turned to face her husband. “I swear that girl is going to send me to an early grave! I expressly forbid her from sneaking out of the house again, and what does she do the moment my back is turned?”
“She will be perfectly safe,” Lord Townsend assured her.
“How do you know that?” Lady Townsend demanded.
“Did you see the way O’Brian was looking at her in the foyer? She will be fine. If she isn’t back by half past eleven, I shall send Nathaniel after her. Annabel is an intelligent girl. She knows better than to leave Grosvenor Square at night, which means she will not be far from home.”
“But Lucas O’Brian is a rake, Harold. Rakes do…well, rakish things!”
“He is a self-made man who was born into nothing and managed to make something out of himself through sheer will and determination,” he corrected gently. “I told you I would have him looked into, did I not? And I have.” Repeatedly, he thought to himself. By all accounts, Lucas O’Brian was a very wealthy man with a reputation for being hard, but honest and fair. There were far worse men his daughter could have been sneaking off to meet. “There is no shame in making your own way, nor any dishonor in earning an honest wage.”
“An honest wage? “Lady Townsend rolled her eyes. “The man is a gambler!”
“And a damn good one. O’Brian may not be a peer, but there is more to a man than his past, and more to his future than a title. We, of all people, should know that better than most.” He was, of course, referring to their son Adam.
Born into privilege, Adam had been gifted a bright and brilliant future. In short, he’d been given everything Lucas O’Brian had not. But instead of becoming a young man a father could be proud o
f, Adam had gambled away his inheritance, become addicted to drink, and ultimately succumbed to a life of vice and sin. It had been nearly a year since they’d spoken more than a word, and Lord Townsend knew their son’s absence hurt his wife more than she would ever care to admit. He also knew that when she looked at Annabel she feared a similar fate awaited their daughter, for the two siblings shared more than one common characteristic. They were both stubborn and too independent for their own good, but where Adam had cruelty in his heart Annabel had only love, and that made all the difference.
“I know O’Brian is not who you would have chosen for a suitor.” Gently drawing his wife’s cheek against his chest, he began to rock her from side to side. “But he is a good man and our Annabel has a good head on her shoulders. If they are meant to be together then they should be together. And we should support them, just as our parents did us even when they did not think we belonged together. Thirty-seven years, my love. Thirty-seven years you have been my wife, and I your husband. Can you imagine what our lives would be like if we had chosen different people?”
Lady Townsend tilted her head back to reveal a watery smile and eyes wet with tears. “No, and I do not care to. Thirty-seven years,” she repeated softly. “Has it truly been that long?”
“It has. My only regret is that time has passed us by so quickly.”
“Oh Harold.” With a tiny sigh, she rose up on her bare toes and kissed him, her warm, familiar mouth lingering on his for several seconds before she sat back on her heels. “I am afraid you are right as always. I suppose Annabel was never going to be happy with a traditional suitor, was she?”
“No, I do not suppose she was.”
“Well.” Glancing over her shoulder at the window, Lady Townsend pursed her lips. “What do we do now?”
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