by Robyn DeHart
“Harmless,” she repeated.
He’d seen Annalise’s wrath and he fully expected to be on the receiving end any moment, but after several moments of silence he began to wonder. Still she stood, but she no longer faced him, instead she looked in the opposite direction.
“Annalise,” he said, gripping her elbow.
She turned to face him, her expression flamed with indignation. “You deceived me, played me for a fool.” She shook her head. “I said things I never would have—” She choked on the rest of the sentence.
Was she looking to him for an apology? Yes, he’d deceived her, but she’d walked out on him. Chosen a thief over a fiancé who . . . who what? Who was mad with lust for her? These were not the romantic words of love that a lady longed to hear. Still, she didn’t seem to be longing for such words from him so what did it matter if he had tender feelings for her or not?
“There is nothing harmless about this night,” she said quietly. She pulled away from him and faced the sofa.
So she regretted that too, his touch, his kisses. It was a kick in his gut because he knew that had she not ripped his mask off, she would have allowed him to continue, to push their passion further. But with Griffin, it was all regret.
He watched Annalise now as she lay on the sofa. Then he made his way to the front door. He wouldn’t leave, not now, but he needed some air. And the cold night breeze. Already his blood heated for her, desire surging through his body.
“I need some air,” he said as he headed out the front door.
He shouldn’t have touched her. He’d known that all along about Annalise, that once he started he wouldn’t be able to stop. Wouldn’t want to. Despite her good breeding, she was a fiery woman, one with passion and pluck. She would never be the perfect wife who sat in the corner and nodded and smiled. No, not his Annalise. She would argue and fuss.
He knew that for a lot of men that would bring nothing but aggravation. And he’d be a fool not to admit that her feisty behaviour would bring its share of frustration. But he wouldn’t want her any other way.
With other women he’d always been bored. They all looked the same and they sounded the same. But Annalise had her sumptuous curves, her wide, easy smile, and her eyes shone with intelligence. Her father had even warned Griffin that the girl was too well read for her own good. “Those books put too many opinions in her head,” he’d said. Her parents had even tried to convince Griffin that Annalise’s younger sister, Penny, was a better choice for him. But prim and proper Penny did nothing for him.
Hell, he’d known he had to be careful with her. It was why he’d kept his distance. They were explosive together. And he didn’t want to give his mother any reason for sabotaging this union so she could marry him off to a girl of her choosing. But he’d kept his distance so much so that he’d convinced his would-be bride that he was indifferent to her.
He had betrayed her, that he could not deny. But she had abandoned him. Begged a stranger to kidnap her so she could escape their marriage. He’d be a liar if he said that didn’t anger him. Other men might be perfectly satisfied with marrying a woman who did not want to become their wife. But Griffin was not that man. He wanted Annalise, but only if she wanted him too.
Oh, she’d desired him. In those heated moments when he’d still worn his mask. Did that mean the fire in her burned so hot merely because of the adventure? Was it the danger of the unknown and the idea that a common thief had his hands and mouth on her body? He wanted to believe that somehow she’d known it was him, and that was why she’d been so wanton. But he was no fool and he was not given to silly boyish fantasies.
He knew what he had to do. He’d give her the choice. If she chose to walk away perhaps her reputation would not be too damaged.
“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” Annalise asked the following morning. Her voice was shrill, she knew that, but it panicked her to think he’d leave her, not simply alone here in this cottage, but that he would walk away completely. He’d lied to her and betrayed her, she reminded herself. But hadn’t she left him first? Begged a strange man – a man, to her mind, who was a common thief – to take her away from him?
“I have an appointment in Kent,” he said calmly.
She opened her mouth to speak, then said nothing. He still intended to marry her? Or was he planning to merely make an appearance to show good faith to her parents? Preserve his own name while he watched hers sullied? “Penny and Hildy will have told everyone what happened to me,” she said quietly. “No one will blame you for deserting me.”
“I’m not deserting you. I’ve called a carriage and it will take you wherever you choose to go,” he said.
“And what of the wedding?”
He inclined his head, then looked at her. “I’m planning on being in the church as we planned. If you so choose, you can meet me there and we will be married.”
“And if I do not?”
He shrugged. “Then I suppose I will be jilted and you will be free to do as you desire. Escape the propriety and boredom and chase that adventure you’re so desperate to find.”
She flinched, but took a step towards him regardless. “That’s it?” she asked, not knowing what she wanted him to say, but knowing she wanted more. Much more. Fight for me, her heart whispered. Want me, Griffin, love me.
“That’s it,” he said softly. He turned to go, then paused. “If you decide to go to London, you might want to leave fairly soon, the weather is getting colder and it might snow later. You wouldn’t want to get stuck on the road.” His eyes searched her face. He closed the door behind him, and he was gone.
She stood alone in the cottage. He’d never told her why he wanted to marry her, or if he even did. She knew he was honourable, despite his foolish wager that landed him the highwayman stunt. He would marry her because he said he would. Even though her reputation would now be in tatters. It would affect his name. He knew that. It mattered not that her virtue remained intact or that he was the only man who’d ever touched her. Society wouldn’t care about those details. All they would know was that she had been kidnapped by a highwayman two days before her wedding.
She realized now that what she’d wanted him to do was declare his love. Beg her to marry him because he couldn’t face another day without her. But men did not speak of such things, at least not to her. Why would she want to hear those things from him of all people? Certainly she did not love him. He was boring and inattentive . . . and passionate and utterly charming. She’d seen glimpses of those very characteristics that first night, then they’d all but disappeared.
The previous night though, as they’d played captor and captive, everything had been different. They’d talked, conversed, almost as friends would. They’d teased and flirted. He’d treated her as if he was courting her, wooing her. But that would mean he had tender feelings for her, which she knew could not be else he would have fought for her. But fought for what? A woman who’d declared she did not want him? Could not love him?
Annalise stared out into the woods surrounding the cottage. She strained her ears, trying desperately to hear the sound of hooves, willing him to return. But of course he would not. Which left the decision to her. What if she took that carriage and went to London? Showed up on the doorstep of her aunt and worked with her at her orphanage? She might have some satisfaction in her life from working with those who were less fortunate than her. She certainly adored her aunt and they always had a wonderful time together.
But what of love? What about being a wife and a mother? What of the passion she’d tasted for the very first time the night before? Perhaps Griffin did not love her now, but that did not mean he never would. Did it? He had asked her to be his wife and, even though she’d been horribly hurtful about his person, he had not walked away from her. He’d left for the church fully intending to marry her.
Or perhaps he intended to walk away from her once she met him at the altar? No, he could never be so cruel. Griffin, ah, handsome Griffin, who certainly had
more adventure and passion in him than she’d ever realized.
Not to mention the way he’d touched her. The sensations he’d caused. She closed her eyes and, despite the chill from the morning air, warmth surged through her as she remembered his mouth on hers, his hand on her skin.
Her heart raced and thunder shook in her belly. Oh dear. Could it be? Did she love her very own husband-to-be?
Griffin ignored Annalise’s family who collectively had nearly paced a hole in the narthex floor. Every time her mother looked at him, she burst into tears. Her father had tried, on more than one occasion, to tell Griffin that no one expected Annalise to show her face at the wedding. Though her sister Penny looked appropriately worried, not one other member of her family was concerned about Annalise’s safety. To them, she was carelessly kidnapped by a villain. All they seemed to care about was Griffin’s feelings regarding her virtue.
They were mad, the lot of them.
He caught sight of Annalise’s sister again, standing quietly in the corner. Penny. What had Annalise said before he’d left? That Penny and Hildy would have told everyone what had happened to them. That meant Penny must have been in the carriage.
Griffin made his way over to the tall blonde. “Penny,” he said tersely.
She swallowed, but stepped over to him.
“Were you in that carriage?” he whispered.
She nodded. Her clear blue eyes welled with tears. “Yes, I was. Annalise covered me with her cloak and bid me stay inside, hidden.”
“To protect you,” he said.
“My reputation, My Lord, she was trying to protect my marriage prospects,” Penny said.
“So no one else knows you were in that carriage.”
“No, My Lord, my parents forbade it.”
He nodded and walked away from her. He’d thought Annalise had been so desperate to rid herself of him, she’d thrown herself at a common thief, but she’d merely been protecting her sister. Sacrificing her own reputation to salvage that of her beloved sibling. Perhaps that meant there was hope for them, for their future. If she decided to marry him. But damned if he wouldn’t have fought harder for her had he known the truth.
The wedding was a mere thirty minutes away and Griffin did his best to keep his own nerves from being rattled. Still he’d seen no sign of Annalise.
“Where is she?” his mother whispered from behind him.
“She’ll be here,” he said, willing it to be true. He would give her another hour and if she didn’t come, he’d go after her. Tell her how he felt, that he loved her and that he could wait until she learned to love him too. Though he tried not to be hurt and disappointed, he kept longing for the sound of a carriage rolling over the hillside.
And as if his heart had created that sound for him, he heard wheels crunching against rocks and hooves beating against the road. Annalise’s family continued to argue and speculate and do everything they could to be as insensitive and annoying as possible. Griffin stepped outside of the church, allowing the heavy door to slam behind him. He cared not if he was rude. All he cared about was whether or not she’d returned to him, and decided to marry him after all.
The carriage rounded the curve at the top of the hill and came in full view. It was definitely one of his, the Benning crest emblazoned on the door.
His heart thundered. He felt very much the eager schoolboy as he wiped his palms against his breeches.
Finally the carriage came to a rolling stop. He stepped forwards. The door opened. One delicate ankle stepped on to the step, then another as Annalise emerged from the carriage.
She’d come. Griffin fought the urge to run to her, to throw his arms around her and kiss her senseless.
“You came,” he said quietly as she walked towards him.
“I did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that Penny was in the carriage with you?” he asked.
“It didn’t matter.”
“The hell it didn’t. It means everything. It means that you weren’t choosing a dangerous thief over a life with me. You were protecting your sister.” He paused. “Does this mean you’ll marry me?”
“I have a question first,” she said. She swallowed visibly and her lovely brown eyes looked up at his. “Why do you want to marry me, Griffin? I know my parents offered you Penny. Why would you choose me instead?”
He searched her face, looking for meaning behind her question.
She chewed at her lip. Her expression was so heartbreakingly vulnerable he fought the urge to pull her to him.
“I wanted to marry you because I love you,” he said.
Her mouth opened in a silent gasp. She gave him a shy smile. “You do?”
“Yes, Annalise, from the moment I first saw you in that dress shop on Bond Street. You so effectively put Lady Henwick in her place, I’d never seen anything like it. You intrigued me, amused me, your boldness, your fearlessness. I sought you out the following evening.”
“The Draper Ball,” she said.
“Yes. You looked perfect in your lavender gown.”
She frowned. “I didn’t know you remembered that.”
“I remember everything about you.”
“Then why? Why all that time during our engagement did you ignore me? Why did you spend so much time chatting up my parents while not so much as passing me a glance?” she asked.
He smiled. “Because I knew that if I spent too much time with you, I would not be able to keep my hands off you.”
“Truly?”
He pulled her to him, close to him, and inhaled the sweet scent of her hair. “Truly.”
“I love you, Griffin,” she said.
He squeezed her tighter. “Even though I’m boorish?”
She smacked his arm. “Yes, despite that, I still love you.”
