Her delicious mouth and soft skin and full breasts, her silken, supple legs that had parted so eagerly at his touch, the way she’d responded to him so passionately and willingly, all had haunted him through the night and morning. He wasn’t sure how he’d found the will to stop when he had. He strongly suspected that she would have allowed him to take her right there in the garden, an idea that made him half mad.
He began to comb his fingers through his hair. He recalled the feel of Miss Colbrook’s hands on his head and stopped, letting his hands fall onto the desk.
He truly was pathetic. And soon he would probably be mad as well, either from weariness or frustration. Even Edmund’s odd behavior wasn’t enough of a distraction.
“What in blazes were you doing last night,” Adrian asked, “wandering around the estate with a pistol, foxed? You could have hurt Miss Colbrook. Or yourself. What the devil has gotten into you?”
“What’s gotten into me?” Edmund stopped pacing and leaned against the mantel. “You’re the one who looks two steps from death. What could have kept you from sleep?” Edmund smirked and began tapping his foot against the hearth.
Adrian sat up straighter. “Stop leering, it doesn’t suit you.”
“I’ve been told it does,” Edmund said. There was no hint of jealousy in his teasing. Adrian couldn’t dispel the idea Miss Colbrook might be correct about Edmund flirting with her merely to upset him. There was one way to find out for certain.
“What are your intentions towards Miss Colbrook?” Adrian said.
“Strange you should ask, as you always say my intentions can only be bad.”
“I am serious, Edmund.”
Edmund paused in his tapping and gazed at Adrian for a moment. He looked oddly solemn.
“You are indeed,” Edmund said. “Even more than usual. How interesting.”
“Answer the question.”
“Well, I was rather taken with her at first, I must admit. She has a certain unconventional charm. And she is quite attractive.” Adrian curled his hands into fists. “However...” Edmund reached up to the mantel and began fiddling with a small wooden globe. “I decided last night that she is too mentally unbalanced for me.”
“Mentally unbalanced? Miss Colbrook?” What on earth was he babbling about?
“Quite.” Edmund gave the globe one final spin and set it down again.
“How so?” Adrian leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
“Well, she likes you. What more proof does one need?”
Adrian shook his head. “You really are an ass.”
“Am I?” Edmund began pacing before the fireplace. “I am not the one who has a beautiful woman pining after me and behaves as if he’s being tortured when instead he should realize he’s a bloody lucky bastard.”
“I’m an earl, Edmund, not some gentleman who can choose any woman he desires—”
“An earl, indeed, and you won’t let anyone forget it for a moment. You’re puffed up like a peacock.”
“You are accusing me of being a peacock?” Adrian said. “You?”
“Yes.” Edmund began carefully smoothing his hair. Just to be more of an ass, Adrian thought, just to bother him. Just as he flirted with Miss Colbrook. Damn it, she was right. Why hadn’t he seen it before?
Adrian frowned. Strange that Edmund should admit he’d given up on her though. He’d expect Edmund would use her to bother him even more, especially if Edmund realized how desperately he wanted her.
Edmund finished with his hair and began fluffing his ridiculous cuffs.
Edmund couldn’t possibly know how strong his desire for her was. He hadn’t even known himself until he began to think the unthinkable, late last night, lying on the grass after his swim in the chilly pond.
What if he were to marry Miss Colbrook?
He could send Edmund away to protect him from any possibility of a challenge from Sir Neville. And it was possible that Sir Neville, even if he lost Miss Colbrook, might not carry through on his threats.
But how badly would such a match affect his family, and his sister’s chances for a grand marriage? Would he be able to forgive himself for marrying for lust, rather than connections and prosperity and everything an earl should marry for?
He’d spent most of his adult life behaving selfishly. Now he owed it to everyone close to him to choose a wife based on what would be best for the family, not on his own base impulses. To marry her would be yet another selfish indulgence, worse perhaps than anything he’d done before, because it would affect so many people.
Yet he’d come so close last night to having to marry her, so dangerously close. Guilt had stopped him at the last moment; guilt over what he was doing to her and to his family had saved him from a fatal mistake. So why did he feel no sense of relief whatsoever?
Adrian rubbed his eyes.
“You really do look awful,” Edmund said. “What are you thinking about to make you so miserable?” Edmund leaned beside the fireplace again and began gently kicking the stand that held the poker. It was like a tiny hammer magnifying Adrian’s headache.
“Why are you here?” Adrian said, scowling. “Why aren’t you out pestering women or wasting money or being a nuisance somewhere else?”
Edmund smiled. “I am awaiting the outing to Highton Park this afternoon. I am looking forward to seeing the grounds, I hear they are quite beautiful.”
“You cannot be serious.”
“Quite.” Edmund stopped his fidgeting and straightened.
Adrian rose. “You will not go.”
“I was included in the invitation.”
“You cannot be in Sir Neville’s company.”
“Why? Do I not look guiltier if I avoid him?”
“He knows you are guilty,” Adrian said.
Edmund’s eyes widened.
“You were so nervous at the concert,” Adrian continued, “that if he had any doubt, I’m sure that put an end to it. You should be hiding from him, not attending outings on his estate.”
Edmund crossed his arms and jutted out his chin. “Perhaps I do not wish to hide.”
Adrian suddenly recalled Edmund looking much the same when he was nine and had demanded to accompany his older brother to Eton. The battle had lasted days, and Edmund had backed down only after Adrian threatened to stay away longer if Edmund followed him. It was the most determined Adrian had ever seen his younger brother. The fact he remembered it at this moment made him strangely uncomfortable.
“Are you foxed?” Adrian said. “I lied to save your life, and I’ll not let you risk throwing it away. I should never have allowed you to stay here—”
“Ah yes, you did indeed lie to save my life.” Edmund marched to the brandy bottle on the corner table. “A fact you never allow me to forget.” He poured himself a generous amount of brandy, so much that when he lifted it, some sloshed over the side of the snifter and spattered the sleeve of his fawn-colored coat. Adrian was astounded to see Edmund’s hands were shaking. Edmund ignored the stain and gulped down half the brandy without his mouth leaving the glass.
“What in blazes is wrong?” Adrian strode around the desk. “You are behaving oddly, even for you.”
“Am I?” Edmund grinned unpleasantly. “I’m only behaving as you always say I do. Recklessly, stupidly.”
Adrian felt a burst of shame wash over him, and his temper flared even higher. Edmund was reckless. In fact, he reveled in it, and made no attempt to reform himself. Adrian only treated him as he deserved. To try and turn the tables on him and imply that he was the victim in all this only proved even more how incorrigible Edmund was, how hopeless.
How strangely he was behaving, though...
“You let Miss Colbrook know about Miss Howe deliberately,” Adrian said.
“I was foxed.” Edmund shrugged. “I barely remember what I said.”
Adrian scowled.
“Besides,” Edmund added, “you should be grateful. You wanted her to know, don’t deny it. You wanted her to
know that once again, you are the reformed noble one, and I’m the good for nothing wastrel.” Edmund tossed back the rest of the brandy.
“Stop the self-pity, Edmund, it grew tiresome months ago.”
Edmund froze. He glared at Adrian and clutched the snifter as if he might crush it. “I’ve grown tiresome?” He slammed the snifter down on the table. “Maybe I am a wastrel, maybe I’ve made mistakes worse than anything you ever did, maybe I deserve to have you constantly remind me of the terrible things I’ve done, but at least I have the decency to treat Miss Colbrook with respect.” He jabbed a finger at Adrian. “That’s right. For once I’m behaving better than you. You always claim you’ve never ruined an innocent, and that makes you so much better than me, but how close have you come with her? Damn close, I’ll wager. And that’s what’s killing you.”
Adrian felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
“If you’re so bloody honorable now,” Edmund added, stepping closer to him, “you should marry her off to Sir Neville before it’s too late. Lord knows he will treat her properly.” Edmund’s hands were shaking at his sides. “She certainly deserves better than this.”
They stared at each other for a moment, the only sound the chiming of a clock in the hall.
“Leave, Edmund,” Adrian finally said. “I expect you to be gone before we all depart for Highton Park. Go into town or do whatever, I do not care, but leave.”
Something shifted in Edmund’s expression. His anger drained away as he dropped his gaze to floor. He spun around and marched from the room.
Adrian turned and fell into his chair. He leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk, his body feeling strangely numb.
Damn it to hell, Edmund was right.
He’d merely said what Adrian already knew, that his behavior with Miss Colbrook was dishonorable. But to hear it spoken made the full horror of what he was doing sink in.
And Edmund was right about Sir Neville as well.
She deserved a man like Sir Neville. He obviously cared for her deeply, after all the pains he’d taken to protect her family from scandal. And even though she was far beneath his status, he was willing to wait patiently for her even if it meant several more years. To Adrian, such forbearance was unfathomable. How could the man endure it?
Furthermore, how could Adrian endure it? He would be forced to be in her presence for the devil knew how long, until Madeline married and Sir Neville finally offered for Miss Colbrook. Months, perhaps years, of seeing her nearly every day, at breakfast, dinner, parties, walking about the estate, sitting in the window seat...
It would be pure hell.
He couldn’t bear having her in his home until Madeline married. Miss Colbrook had to wed Sir Neville as soon as possible. Why the blazes did she insist on delaying until after Madeline found a husband? Fear was a part of it, surely, but he was becoming increasingly convinced there was something more to it, some secret she kept from him. Whatever it was, he needed to find out, so he could convince her to marry Sir Neville as soon as possible and have the whole horrible mess settled once and for all.
Once she was Sir Neville’s wife, Edmund would be safe from his challenge permanently. And Adrian would be forever safe from temptation.
16
That afternoon Anna sat on the terrace behind the manor at Highton Park. A large party had assembled at Sir Neville’s home to enjoy the fine weather: the Dunburys, the Duke of Dulverton, Lady Stratford, Mrs. Shelby, Lady Carlton, Cecelia, Madeline and of course, Lord Wareton. Mr. Sinclair had left early that morning, supposedly to go into Somerton, although Anna wondered if Lord Wareton had asked him to disappear to avoid Sir Neville. Anna had seen Mr. Sinclair mount a horse and pat his coat pockets before he rode off. She strongly suspected he was taking a flask and pistol for another shooting session in the woods.
In all the madness of last evening, she’d had no chance to tell Lord Wareton about what she’d seen Mr. Sinclair doing, but today her head was clearer, and she knew she must speak with him about it. If only she could summon the courage to look him in the eye after what had happened.
He was definitely keeping his distance. She hadn’t caught him looking her way once since breakfast. Now he kept close to Lady Stratford, his arm brushing hers as they stood at the edge of the veranda and looked out at the gardens.
The rest of the party sat around a large canopied table, sipping lemonade. At one end, the Dunbury sisters and Cecelia fought for the duke’s attention. The duke seemed oblivious, sitting straight and somber as always, nibbling on an orange tart. Lady Carlton and Mrs. Dunbury watched him intently.
Madeline and Mrs. Shelby sat on each side of Anna, complementing Sir Neville on the beauty of his gardens. Anna heard only half of what they were saying, as her gaze kept drifting to Lord Wareton. Lady Stratford was laughing and touching his arm as they spoke. She looked back toward the table and caught Anna staring at her. Anna quickly glanced away, but she felt Lady Stratford’s stare follow her. Anna gazed where nearly everyone else did—at the duke, who was carefully chewing the final bite of his tart.
“I should very much like to walk to the lake,” Cecelia announced, smiling and leaning close to him as he dabbed at his mouth with a handkerchief. “It is so fine out.”
“Yes, of course.” The duke nodded, frowning as if Cecelia had just asked him to answer a difficult mathematical problem. “A wonderful idea, Miss Sinclair.”
There was a chorus of agreement from the Dunburys and Lady Carlton.
Madeline frowned. “But Sir Neville—”
“I shall be glad to wait here,” Sir Neville said. “I would not ruin your fun. Though you are kind to think of me, Miss Madeline.” He smiled at her and Madeline smiled back, her face suddenly bright.
“Then I shall wait with you,” Madeline said happily. “And Anna,” she added, “will you not rest with us? No doubt you are still weary from your long walk yesterday?”
Anna hid a smile. “I shall stay with you.”
“Why do we not ride,” Sir Neville suggested, “and meet the others at the lake?”
“A wonderful idea,” Madeline said.
Sir Neville ordered a carriage brought around. While the rest of the party set out across the gardens, Anna, Madeline, and Sir Neville made their way to the front of the manor.
Sir Neville helped Madeline into the waiting curricle first. As she stepped up, the heel of her half-boot caught on the edge of the step, and she began to slip. Sir Neville caught her by the arm and steadied her. When Anna dropped into the seat beside Madeline, she was surprised to see her stepsister smooth her gown carefully where he had held her, a small smile on her face.
Suddenly, all the praise Madeline always heaped on Sir Neville, all the encouragement she gave Anna to marry him, looked very different. Did Madeline think so highly of him because she had romantic feelings for him?
No, Anna assured herself, Madeline was simply fond of him as a friend. She was making something out of nothing. She glanced at Madeline, who was still smiling at Sir Neville. Well, almost nothing...
Sir Neville took the reins and they set out, riding leisurely down the main carriage road to the lake. Soon they could see the rest of the party off to the east, following a footpath that crossed a field before rejoining the carriage road. After a few moments, the others passed out of view, and the trees that edged the lake came into sight in the distance.
Anna glanced at Sir Neville. Would he truly challenge Mr. Sinclair after all this time? Lord Wareton seemed convinced of the threat, but she had doubts that Sir Neville would do such a thing, no matter what happened.
“Much as I love the countryside,” Madeline said, “I cannot wait for the season to begin. Will you be traveling to London this year, Sir Neville?”
“My plans are uncertain at present,” he said. “But I have no doubt you will have a marvelous time and find many admirers in town, Miss Madeline.” He added gently, “And I am certain it will not be long bef
ore you are no longer a ‘miss’.”
Madeline smiled. “And then Anna also, might not be a ‘miss’ much longer?”
Sir Neville smiled. “Perhaps not.”
When Sir Neville had expressed his intentions towards her before, Anna had said little. She’d been too eager to stop him from making a formal proposal and then too shocked by his revelation about Lord Wareton. It was time she let Sir Neville know what her answer would be. It was the fair thing to do.
“I fear I may disappoint you both,” Anna said quietly.
Madeline spun to look at her, frowning. Sir Neville’s eyes narrowed, but he stared straight ahead at the road.
“What do you mean?” Madeline asked.
“I have been quite contented these past years,” Anna said. “I have been thinking recently that I should like to remain just as I am, a spinster.” She lifted Madeline’s hand and held it gently. “I shall be content to help care for your children someday.”
Madeline grasped her hand tightly. “Anna—”
Anna leaned forward to gaze past Madeline. “Sir Neville, would you be so kind as to stop the carriage? I believe I shall walk after all.” He nodded without looking at her and drew the horses to a stop. “I shall let the others catch up to me,” Anna added. “You and Madeline continue.”
Sir Neville inclined his head and flicked the reins. As the curricle moved forward, Madeline turned and gazed back at Anna. The sadness on Madeline’s face pained her, but she had to say what she did. It was well past the time that she dashed Sir Neville’s hopes—and Madeline’s as well—that she would ever marry him. If she’d ever seriously considered it, Lord Wareton had changed all that irrevocably.
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