A Rogue No More (The Rogue Chronicles Book 3)
Page 17
Annabelle was fulfilled by her writing and couldn’t imagine feeling less than that because of a man. It had been a risk she didn’t want to take. Now that she was faced with the possibility, she worried even more, especially since she already had feelings for Thomas.
“I don’t know.” Thomas had asked her father for her hand, which was all very well and good, but he hadn’t actually asked her. That small distinction felt terribly important as if it suggested he wouldn’t have asked her if not for being caught in a compromising situation.
Her thoughts were ridiculous when she already knew he wouldn’t have. He was a rogue, after all.
“That’s understandable.” Louisa studied her. “But I’ve noticed how he has watched you in the last few weeks when he happens to be nearby.” A smile curved her lips. “It makes me think he would’ve asked for your hand eventually.”
Before Annabelle could respond, a friend of theirs, Lady Helen, joined them.
“Is it true?” she asked, eyes wide with interest as she looked at Annabelle. “You and Raybourne are betrothed?”
“We are.”
“Imagine. A rogue like Raybourne actually getting married. And to you, no less.” Lady Helen shook her head. “I can hardly believe it. Why, his reputation...” She broke off, giggling behind her hand. “So many women have been associated with him.”
A sick feeling came over Annabelle as the woman prattled on.
“I’m not certain if I’d be pleased to know I’d caught him or concerned that he would soon cast a wandering eye elsewhere.” Lady Helen glanced at Louisa as if to see if she agreed.
“Annabelle and Mr. Raybourne make the perfect pair.” Louisa smiled broadly, showing far too many teeth. “I think it’s so romantic.”
Annabelle appreciated her cousin’s defense but wished there was more truth to it. “I am a lucky woman,” she managed.
“’Tis I who is the lucky one.” Thomas’s deep voice had all three of them turning to face him. He took Annabelle’s hand as he bowed while the ladies curtsied.
“Mr. Raybourne, we were just speaking about you.” Lady Helen’s gaze swept over him as if she’d like to take a bite. “Congratulations on your betrothal.”
“Thank you.” Thomas barely glanced at the woman, his gaze remaining steadily on Annabelle, causing her stomach to quiver.
Oh dear. She was definitely on the edge of something.
She told herself that he must’ve overheard Lady Helen’s remark. That he was only pretending to be interested in her. Yet none of those thoughts paused the flutters in her body at his continued regard.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noted Louisa’s beaming smile. No doubt her cousin believed Thomas truly was enamored. But Annabelle was old enough to realize there was a difference between physical desire and love. If rumors were true, Thomas was very experienced in physical desire, but would he recognize love even if it struck him between the eyes?
Was what they had between them enough to begin a marriage that would make them both happy and last a lifetime?
Chapter Fifteen
Thomas watched a myriad of emotions shift through Annabelle’s eyes, though he couldn’t begin to guess what she might be thinking. But he certainly didn’t care for the worry reflected in the dark depths. “Would you do me the honor of this dance?”
“Of course.” Her polite smile made him want to kiss her until the distant mask she wore fell away, revealing her true feelings no matter what they were. Surely honesty was preferable to hidden thoughts.
With a nod at Louisa, he escorted Annabelle toward the dance floor but continued around the edge of it.
“I thought we were dancing,” she whispered.
“Not until you tell me what’s on your mind. Did Lady Helen say something to upset you?”
“She reminded me of how unlikely it was that you will marry.”
“She knows nothing about me.” He scowled at the idea of the woman suggesting anything of the sort. While aware his reputation as a rogue was well deserved, it no longer defined him. “Who is she to say anything?”
“You’re right,” Annabelle said after a brief pause.
Yet her verbal acknowledgement wasn’t enough. He needed to see her true response in her eyes. He led her into an alcove along the edge of the ballroom that allowed them limited privacy and turned her to face him.
“Do you have news?” The hopefulness in her tone made him sigh with frustration.
He was beginning to wonder if always changing the subject to the murders was merely a way for her to avoid speaking about their relationship. The mystery was a priority for him as well, but not above his concern for her. “Not as of yet. We hope to within the next day or two.” Neither he nor Aberland had been able to discover where Sir Alexander would be or when. His servants were apparently tight-lipped or else he didn’t follow an expected routine. But if he had to follow the man himself, he would.
“Time is running out.” She bit her lower lip, a sign of worry he recognized. He liked the realization that he knew her well enough to be familiar with some of her mannerisms.
“Need I remind you that even if another death were to occur, it wouldn’t be your fault?” He ran a finger along her jaw, halting at the corner of her mouth, and she released her lip.
“It feels as if it is.”
Her whispered confession pulled at him, making him wish he could halt whoever was behind the murders and bring him to justice. Thus far, that hadn’t been possible, if it ever would be. He was trying his best, but he was a rogue with no experience in such matters, nothing more. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to remind her of that.
“It’s not.” He held her gaze. “We will make it through this. Together.” Their betrothal might not have originally been part of his plan for the future, but he was enjoying her presence in his life. The thought of having her at his side forever brought a strange sense of peace that settled over him. Her imagination, intelligence, and resourcefulness were traits he admired. Her beauty and wit were the icing on the cake. How she was still unwed, given how delightful she was, remained a mystery, but he was grateful for it and even more grateful that she’d soon be his.
Her gaze fell to his mouth, and he couldn’t resist a brief kiss. Surely a betrothed couple was allowed that, but he hoped no one witnessed it. He didn’t want to cause Annabelle any issues. He drew back, pleased the odd light in her eyes had faded and the tightness in her expression had eased.
“Shall we dance?” he asked, though he wished there wasn’t a ballroom full of people to observe them. He simply wanted to hold her in his arms until both of them were comforted. She soothed his soul, and he hoped he might do the same for her someday.
She smiled, this one more genuine, then nodded. “I’d be delighted.”
They’d lingered long enough that a set was already in progress, so they waited until the next one began, watching the dancers until the music finally ended.
At last it was their turn. She was the perfect partner compared to most. Her graceful moves were a sight to behold. She followed his lead as they joined hands to turn before releasing each other.
It didn’t take long for desire to rise as her gaze held his. He searched for something to say, hoping conversation would distract him from the need pulsing through his body. The sooner they married the better, but for now, he needed a distraction.
“I nearly forgot to mention the progress on your latest creation,” he said, careful how he chose his words, not wanting anyone who listened to realize of what they spoke.
Her eyes widened, but the dance prevented her from speaking until they joined together again. “And?”
He frowned, unable to resist teasing her. “I don’t know how you did it.” He paused both for effect and because the dance took them apart before bringing them together. Her frustration was nearly palpable as her gaze held on him. “But it’s even better than the first. I couldn’t put it down. Your talent amazes me.”
To his shock, she blinked
back tears. That wasn’t the reaction he’d intended. She glanced about as if to see if anyone noticed her reaction.
“What is it?” he whispered, prepared to escort her off the dance floor if her upset continued. He’d been certain that not only did she expect him to enjoy the story, but that she knew how excellent it was.
“I’m quite relieved.” She took an audible breath. “You haven’t mentioned it, and at first I thought you hadn’t yet read it. But as the days passed, doubt crept in.”
The idea of her having such uncertainty surprised him. Perhaps that was something else they had in common, for doubts assailed him on a daily basis.
“I should have said something sooner. I’ve already read it twice.” He smiled at the joy in her expression. He much preferred it over the worry and coolness she’d shown earlier.
Annabelle gave a small gasp as her gaze caught on something over his shoulder.
“What is it?”
“Sir Alexander is here. And he’s staring at us.”
Thomas forced himself not to look. That would only cause the man to suspect something. His thoughts raced as he considered his options. Did he engage him in conversation? Follow him to see if he happened to go to his club after he left the ball?
“Do you think he wonders why we were in his library, or does he believe we shared a passionate moment there?” Annabelle’s gaze lowered as if she was embarrassed by the topic.
“He didn’t seem to question it at the time,” Thomas said, though he had the same thoughts. Thomas hadn’t had time to re-lock the drawers he’d searched. “His presence this evening could prove helpful.” Too late he realized he shouldn’t have said anything in front of Annabelle.
“Why is that?”
The dance ended, and he bowed while she curtsied. He offered his elbow, and they walked slowly off the dance floor, while Thomas searched for the man. “I will explain more later but suffice it to say that I think we could learn more from him if I’m in the right place at the right time.”
Annabelle frowned. “How? We don’t have much contact with him or his close friends.”
Thomas hesitated to tell her his plan, especially when he didn’t know if anything would come of it. She already had enough to worry about, and they didn’t have the privacy needed to discuss it in detail. But he wanted her to know he was working on it as best he could. In fact, it was vital that she knew that, or she might attempt something on her own.
“I haven’t found a solution, but I intend to watch for an opportunity. He enjoys playing cards and gambling from what I know. I’ll go to the card room now and see if he eventually joins in.” They reached Louisa and greeted her husband, the Earl of Granger, who now stood at her side.
“Granger, could I interest you in a game of cards?” Thomas raised a brow, hoping the man would agree. He preferred to have an ally in the room if possible. He didn’t know Granger well, but surely he could count on the earl now that they’d soon be distantly related.
Granger studied him for a moment before giving a single nod. He turned his wife and took her hand. “If you don’t mind, darling?”
“Of course not.” Louisa smiled at Annabelle. “I have my cousin to keep me company.”
Thomas noted the questions in Annabelle’s eyes, but they would have to keep. He had no answers. Not yet. Hopefully, he could give Granger enough information that he would be of some assistance
As Annabelle had said, time was running out.
~*~
Thomas left White’s much later that night, frustration simmering inside him as he walked down the steps. The entire evening had been a wild goose chase. Despite his efforts, he knew nothing more than he had earlier in the day.
He’d been hopeful when Sir Alexander had entered the card room at the ball earlier, though the older gentleman sat at a different table than Thomas and Granger. Lord Thornton, who was normally Sir Alexander’s shadow, had been nowhere in sight. After winning a few hands of cards, Thomas remained in the card room, watching Sir Alexander play. Granger had continued to play as well and kept an eye on Sir Alexander. There hadn’t been time to share the details of the entire situation with Granger, but the earl seemed to understand the basics and was pleased to help.
It hadn’t required incredible observation skills to realize Sir Alexander was in a foul mood. His grim expression and poor behavior when he lost several hands in a row made that apparent. He’d soon stalked out of the room and left the ball.
After thanking Granger for his assistance, Thomas had followed Sir Alexander to White’s, an understandable choice as no man wanted to return home when in such a poor frame of mind.
Thomas had kept out of sight for some time, not wanting Sir Alexander to realize he was following him. Plus it gave the man time to have several drinks, making him more likely to converse. After well over an hour, Thomas had stepped into the card room and found him. But the man’s mood had grown worse, as had his luck at cards.
Though Thomas had waited, no one left Sir Alexander’s table so he could join the game. Instead, Thomas had been left with keeping his back to Sir Alexander and listening. Other than swearing at his luck, the cards he held, as well as some of the other men with whom he played, Sir Alexander said little.
The few times Thomas risked watching him, Sir Alexander had glared at Thomas as if the blame for his poor luck lay at Thomas’s feet. No purpose would be served at gaining the man’s notice more than he already had. From the number of drinks he’d witnessed the man down, apparently spirits didn’t cause his tongue to loosen or his mood to improve. Thomas had soon withdrawn to the bar, not wanting to linger in the card room and draw further unwanted attention.
The night had grown late by the time Sir Alexander departed. Thomas had soon done the same, deciding he needed a different plan if he wanted to learn more. But what?
Thomas glanced about, annoyed that no hackney waited outside the club. He walked toward the nearest cab stand, his mind on a different method to uncover Sir Alexander’s strategy. The night was dark, and the temperature had turned brisk. No doubt the fog would roll in soon. He hadn’t walked more than half a block along the quiet street before realizing he was being followed.
He should’ve accepted Granger’s offer to accompany him this evening or reached out to Aberland, but he thought he’d be less noticeable without a companion. Was the person following him a thief who hoped to steal his valuables? If so, he’d be disappointed as Thomas had very little on his person. And he was in no mood to hand them over without a fight.
He considered his surroundings, trying to determine when he should turn to confront his pursuer. Did he wait and hope to reach the hackney stand or face him now?
Before he could decide, a shadow emerged ahead of him from the alleyway and blocked Thomas’s path. It seemed the person following him didn’t work alone.
Thomas paused as unease prickled along his spine. He glanced behind him to see the other man continuing to approach then turned back to the new arrival. “Is there something you wanted?”
“We have a message for you.” The dimly lit street revealed a large man who crossed equally large arms over his chest.
“Oh?” Thomas shifted to keep both men in his line of sight and tensed, prepared to defend himself. He didn’t care for the odds he faced.
The man who’d been following him wasn’t as large as his companion, but his pock-marked face and the grim line to his mouth gave him a fierce appearance.
“Mind your own affairs.” The large man lunged forward, reaching for Thomas’s suit coat.
Thomas struck at his outstretched hands but only managed to knock away one of them. The attacker grasped Thomas’s lapel and shoved him against the brick wall of the building with enough force to push the air from his lungs.
“Leave matters be.”
“What matters?” Blood pounded in Thomas’s ears, a combination of fear and excitement. He was certain he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it. A warning from the East India Compa
ny meant he was on the right track to find the murderer.
The man who’d followed him shook his head. “Ye know well enough, I imagine. Or do ye need Riley here to spell it out for ye?”
Thomas shoved at Riley’s hand to no avail, so he gave him a sharp kick. The movement forced his opponent back, but he didn’t loosen his tight grip on Thomas’s coat.
With a snarl, Riley said, “Stay away from East India if ye know what’s good for ye.” Then he released Thomas only to draw back and punch him in the stomach.
Temper lent Thomas strength, and he quickly straightened despite the pain and returned the blow, landing his fist on Riley’s nose. The large man staggered back, allowing Thomas to strike the smaller man as well.
Riley quickly regained his footing and punched Thomas again, this time along the jaw and hard enough that his head struck the brick wall behind him. Dazed, with a strange ringing filling his head, he kept one hand on the wall to keep his balance as he glared at his two opponents. Fear crept up his spine as he realized this wasn’t going to end well.
To his surprise and relief, the two men backed away. “Stay away,” Riley demanded. Then they turned and disappeared into the night.
Thomas braced against the building and slid to the ground, his legs weak with relief. He counted himself lucky that the pair hadn’t done worse damage. His head pounded like the devil, but he soon hauled himself to his feet, hoping to find a hackney to take him home before they decided to return.
Chapter Sixteen
Annabelle paced the waiting area of Artemis Press the following morning, well aware of Mr. Bing’s nervousness at her presence, though he did his best to get on with his work.
“What time does Mr. Raybourne normally arrive?” she asked, her concern growing by the minute.
Mr. Bing pulled a pocket watch from his waistcoat. “He’s usually here by now.”