A Reckless Runaway

by Jess Michaels

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  He cocked his head and his gaze held hers with dark intensity. “I’m here for you, Anne. For as long as you want me.”

  Her heart stuttered as he released her. She feared she’d never stop wanting Rook Maitland. Even when he left her, at last, as she knew he would do.

  She drew a ragged breath. “I suppose we should go rather than sit on this hill all day. Face the consequences.”

  He nodded and nickered for his horse to start down the hill toward the house. They were both silent for a short while, then he looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Whatever happens next, I will never regret what was between us.”

  Her lips parted at that admission. At the sweetness of his tone when he said it. She smiled at him, trying to keep the tears from her eyes. “And I will never forget it.”

  They entered the gate at the end of the long drive and came around a slow curve where the manor house was revealed. Anne could hardly breathe as they crossed the last quarter mile to the stone staircase that led to the home she had abandoned just weeks before.

  Servants came from the stables, but it was Rook who slung down from his horse and helped her from her own. As she squeezed his hand and released him to turn toward the house, the door flew open and Anne’s heart all but stopped.

  Her sisters were practically shoving each other through the narrow space and then racing down the stairs toward her, tears streaming down both their faces, just as she felt her own on her cheeks. Juliana and Thomasina hit her at the same time, and then it was just arms around her and sobbing, completely garbled words as the Shelley Sisters were reunited at last.

  “That’s enough now.”

  Anne stiffened at the sound of her father’s voice. Slowly the sisters parted, with Juliana taking one side of Anne and Thomasina the other. As if they were guarding her, just as they’d always done. Judging from her father’s angry expression, perhaps she needed it.

  “Do you know how much damned trouble you’ve created for everyone?” he snapped as a greeting.

  Before he could say anything else, Jasper Kincaid, the Earl of Harcourt, came out onto the step. His gaze was first on Thomasina, but then it settled on Anne, and all the rage she had felt in his forcing her sister to wed burst up in her, out of control. She rushed forward, her fists raised in anger.

  “You bastard!” she shouted as she lunged at him. “How could you? How could you destroy my sister’s life?”

  Rook caught her before she could swing at the earl, yanking her back toward his chest by both elbows. Thomasina jumped between them, her hands up to ward Anne away.

  “No!” Thomasina said as she backed toward Jasper and touched his arm. “Don’t, Anne! I love him. Do you understand me? We love each other.”

  The words crackled through the air like a whip lash, and Rook clung tighter to Anne as she stared at the Earl and Countess of Harcourt, who were now standing beside each other, Thomasina’s hand in the crook of his arm, him gazing down at her with what was clearly adoration.

  Then Anne looked at her still-angry father and the unreadable Juliana. She made a tiny sound in the back of her throat and sagged against Rook, like the past few weeks were catching up with her. Like she could no longer support herself.

  Thomasina and Juliana gasped as she folded, but Rook shook his head gently to ward them off as he balanced her. “It’s all right,” he said into her ear softly. “I’m here.”

  The Earl of Harcourt was staring at him now. His eyes narrowed. The ones that looked so much like his dead brother’s eyes. Christ, all the damned chickens were about to come to roost today.

  “Why don’t we go inside?” Harcourt suggested. “We obviously have a great deal to discuss, and it looks as though you two could use some tea after your long trip home.”

  Rook wrinkled his brow. He never would have guessed their host would be so solicitous, but here they were. As for Anne, she flinched at his use of the word home, but she seemed to have gathered herself, for she straightened, no longer leaning on Rook, and nodded. “Yes. That is very wise, Harcourt.”

  Harcourt inclined his head toward her and then guided his wife into the house. Juliana shot her sister one last look. Their eyes held a moment and Rook gaped at the unspoken bond between them. At the communication that flowed like a river.

  Juliana pursed her lips and gave a brief nod before she grabbed for her father’s arm. “Come, Father, you can bluster while you drink some tea.”

  “I think I need scotch for this,” their father said, loudly and with another glare over his shoulder.

  “Well, Harcourt has that, too,” Juliana said with a heavy sigh. “I’ll partake, as well.”

  That left Anne and Rook together. She glanced up at him with a weak half-smile. “They’re only part the way to the stable with the horses. What do you say we just run away?”

  She was voicing his own desires once again, and it felt like she’d put her hand around his heart and squeezed each time she did it. But he patted her hand and guided her into the house as if she didn’t tempt him at all. “I think we’d not get to the gate before Harcourt would have us followed, put in bindings and returned.”

  “Best just go in for tea then, eh?” she asked with a dry laugh.

  “Best, I think,” he agreed.

  They had reached the parlor where the others had entered and they moved inside together. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Anne released his arm and crossed away from him. A reminder that she was entering her world. He didn’t belong here. So he moved to the opposite corner, folded his arms and waited for whatever would come next.

  “Why don’t we start with introductions?” Thomasina said after tea had been brought and the door to the parlor had been closed for some semblance of privacy. She sent a pointed look at Rook.

  Anne shifted and moved a little closer to him. “This is Rook.”

  Rook knew why she didn’t say his entire name, but he flinched regardless. Harcourt straightened up and glared. “Rook?” he repeated, through what were obviously clenched teeth. “Bloody hell.”

  “Constantine,” she corrected herself.

  Harcourt looked as though he was reaching the end of his rope. His cool gaze held on Anne as he growled, “Anne.”

  With a shake of his head, Rook stepped forward to end this farce. Anne was trying to protect him, but she couldn’t. He didn’t deserve it. He sighed and said, “Constantine Maitland, my lord. I go by Rook.”

  “Maitland,” Thomasina gasped as it seemed like the entire room recoiled except for Mr. Shelley, who was too busy downing a tall glass of scotch.

  “Like Ellis Maitland, I presume,” Harcourt growled as he flatfooted his way across the parlor like a bullfighter.

  “My cousin,” Rook acknowledged. He certainly wasn’t going to lie. Not anymore.

  Harcourt’s face was turning purple. “You bastard.”

  He shoved Rook with both hands, and Rook rocked back but refused to step away. He understood this man’s anger with him perfectly, but if it came to blows, he wasn’t going to back down. A brawl might actually feel good in the midst of all the upheaval.

  Harcourt shoved him again as Anne and Thomasina raced toward the men.

  “Jasper!” Thomasina gasped, catching her husband’s elbow before he could swing the fist he so clearly wanted to.

  Anne wedged herself between them, as well, first pushing Rook back a few steps. When he was somewhat out of harm’s way, she pivoted toward her former fiancé and threw her arms wide, as if she would protect Rook. He stared down at her, smelling the soft fragrance of her hair. Who was the last person who had defended him? His cousin, perhaps, years before? No one in recent memory, that was certain.

  “Stop!” Anne ordered. “This man saved my life. He brought me home. He doesn’t deserve your censure, no matter whose name he shares.”

  Harcourt’s jaw was still flexed and he jammed his fists down at his sides as he continued to glare at Rook. “Explain.”


  Anne glanced up at Rook, her gaze softer. She mouthed I’m sorry.

  He shook his head and motioned her toward the settee. She squeezed his hand one last time and left him again, this time to sit next to Juliana on the couch.

  She bent her head. “I know the trouble I caused,” she whispered. She sounded bone-weary. “Running off with Ellis Maitland. Breaking our engagement in the worst way. Forcing Thomasina into my foolishness by making her pretend to be me. But I have been punished for it, I assure you.”

  Juliana took her hand. “What did he do to you?” she whispered.

  “Ellis?” Anne glanced at Rook. “Ellis did nothing. I was a pawn in a game I hadn’t even realized he was playing. He took me to some little village—”

  “Beckfoot,” Harcourt interrupted with a glare for Rook. “My man and I followed you there and heard you had gotten onto a boat with some crony of Maitland’s.”

  She swallowed. “That was Rook.”

  “Yes, I know. So you were part of Maitland’s scheme?” Harcourt said. Rook could see he was only just reining in his rage. If the whole family hadn’t been in the room, the earl wouldn’t have stopped with a few shoves.

  Not that Rook could blame him.

  Rook straightened. “I wasn’t, though I don’t expect you to believe it, my lord. Handsome…er, Ellis and I worked together for a long time. I won’t deny that. But I haven’t been associated with him for a year. He showed up begging for my help. I had reasons not to turn him away. But I didn’t know anything about Anne or your engagement or anything else. I showed up in Beckfoot and had a woman thrown into the boat. One Ellis was saying he would return for in time. I couldn’t leave her there. What else was I to do but try to protect her?”

  “I believed Ellis when he said he would return and we would marry,” Anne continued. “And when it became clear he wouldn’t, I then asked Rook to help me get home. We’ve been on the road since then, working our way back to all of you. Though I did…er…promise payment for his trouble,” she said with a quick glance toward her father.

  Mr. Shelley had been quiet during the exchange and now he folded his arms. “If you think I’m going to give a farthing to—”

  Rook help up a hand. “I don’t want a farthing, I assure you.” He glanced at Anne. “There’s no debt to pay but my own, Anne. You owe me nothing.”

  Her expression softened a fraction, and he wanted so much to go to her and hold her. He clenched his fists at his sides instead and stayed where he was.

  She turned away with a blush.

  “Well, we certainly appreciate your bringing Anne home,” Harcourt drawled, his tone still confrontational and cold. The two men locked eyes and held for a moment. Then Harcourt turned his face toward his wife. His look changed in a heartbeat, becoming warm and loving the moment he looked at Thomasina. “Perhaps it would be best if Anne goes up to her room. You three can reunite privately, as I know you are aching to do. We can all take a breath and continue this conversation at supper when everyone is in a better mindset.”

  Thomasina glanced at Anne and then Juliana. Their sisterly connection was so powerful Rook almost thought he should look away from it. It was theirs and private, even from the men they cared for. He hoped with time Anne could reestablish whatever she had lost through her actions. He hoped she would find a future she deserved.

  “Perhaps that would be best,” Thomasina said. “And I will have Willard prepare a room for our guest, as well.”

  “Excellent.” Harcourt squeezed her hand. “While you all go upstairs, I will have a moment with Mr. Maitland, I think.”

  Anne rushed to her feet, lips parting as if she would say something, but Thomasina slowly lifted a hand to her husband’s cheek. “You promise you shall not do anything you’ll have to apologize for later,” she said, her tone quiet, but firm. Guiding.

  Harcourt smiled, and Rook was surprised at how many years it took from his face. “I will not let you down, love.”

  Thomasina and Juliana moved toward the door, motioning for Anne for follow. She did slowly, but as she passed Rook, she hesitated. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Be careful.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said. “And I am always careful.”

  “No, you’re not,” she said on a rough laugh as she moved away from him and out the door with her sisters.

  All that was left in the room were Mr. Shelley and Harcourt. Rook folded his arms as he waited for the onslaught from them both. But to his surprise, Harcourt glared at Shelley. “I said alone,” he growled.

  Shelley blinked at him. “I thought—”

  “You think a great many things, but you didn’t protect your daughters before and you shall not have the benefit of doing so now. Get out,” Harcourt ordered, all lord of the manor in his disdainful look and tone.

  Shelley sputtered, but did as he was told and left, slamming the door behind himself.

  And then there were two.

  “You don’t think much of your father-in-law,” Rook drawled.

  “There isn’t much to think of, that is certain.” Harcourt let out a long sigh. “Do you want a drink, assuming that lout hasn’t downed all my scotch?”

  Rook lifted his brows. He hadn’t expected such hospitality. “I think considering the circumstances, I’d best keep my faculties.”

  “Excellent notion,” Harcourt said, then poured himself a drink. He took a swig as he examined Rook over the edge of the glass. “You and Anne have become close, it seems, during your weeks together.”

  Rook lifted his chin. He wasn’t about to defend himself against a man whose cold demeanor had sent Anne off in the first place. “Yes,” he said softly. “Close enough that even if they were dressed alike, I think I could determine which was Anne and which was Lady Harcourt.”

  Harcourt glared at him more closely. More of an examination than anything. “Perhaps you could. As could I. I knew my wife the moment I saw her that night Anne disappeared. But it seems my former fiancée has been telling you a great deal.”

  Rook shrugged. “There’s not much else to do on the road but talk.”

  “There are a few things,” Harcourt said, downing the remainder of his drink in one slug.

  Rook refused to respond to that. He wasn’t going to tell this man about his relationship to Anne. That was too precious to him. He wouldn’t sully it by pretending it was something cheap or tawdry.

  “I assume you want to speak to me about my cousin,” Rook said. “Not your sister-in-law.”

  “I want to speak to you about both,” Harcourt growled. “But the bigger issue at present is Ellis Maitland.” He set his empty glass on the sideboard with a hard clink of glass on wood. “Now that Anne isn’t here to disappoint, I want the truth. Are you involved in what your cousin has been doing?”

  Rook’s jaw tightened, both at the accusation and the realization that there were activities of Ellis’s that he didn’t know about. Judging from Harcourt’s demeanor, ones he wished he didn’t have to know about. But to protect Anne, he needed more information.

  Rook leaned in. “Tell me everything.”

  Chapter 17

  Anne sank into the steamy heaven of the bathwater, letting it cover her shoulders, then her neck, then dunked her head in and lay on the smooth bottom, holding her breath. Perhaps she could stay here under the water forever. Then she wouldn’t have to face the sisters who moved to stand at the edge of the tub and stare down at her.

  “Anne,” Juliana said, her voice tinny through the water. “Stop hiding and talk to us.”

  Anne sat up, smoothing her hair back and wiping the water from her eyes with a sigh. So much for the plan to become a mermaid.

  Thomasina handed over a bar of soap and Anne lifted it to her nose, inhaling deeply of lemon essence and lavender before she dipped it beneath the water and began to lather it gently between her hands. She waited, unspeaking, for the barrage of questions to begin.

  Instead, Thomasina leaned in and kissed her damp tem
ple. “We were so afraid for you. And felt so empty with just the two of us here.”

  Juliana nodded. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what horrible things you might have been going through. To see you here with us is…” She trailed off and wiped her eyes.

  That set off the tears Anne had been trying to hold back. She set her soap aside and covered her face. “I’m so sorry I worried you. And caused such devastation.”

  Thomasina slid a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up. “Not devastation. I told you I’m happy and I am.”

  “Are you?” Anne whispered. “Could you truly be?”

  Thomasina gave a tiny laugh. “Yes. But now that it’s just the three of us, why don’t you explain a little better what happened?”

  Anne took up the soap and washed to distract herself as she began her tale. “I never wanted to marry Harcourt,” she said. “When Father came into the room with him all those months ago and declared one of us would be his bride, my mind was screaming please not me.”

  Thomasina smiled softly and bent her head, but didn’t interrupt.

  “I tried to be better than what I know are my worst impulses,” Anne continued. “I tried to accept what couldn’t be changed, but as the time to our wedding grew closer, my panic became harder to ignore. I met Ellis Maitland here in Harcourt, at the first ball celebrating my engagement.”

  “He approached you,” Thomasina said with wide eyes.

  Anne nodded. “From everything Rook shared with me, I realize now that Maitland only wanted to use me to get to Harcourt. But at the time, it felt like he offered me a lifeline. He was charming and laughed at my jokes. After a short acquaintance, he seemed like the lesser evil when I thought of my future.”

  Juliana shook her head. “The lesser evil isn’t a very romantic notion.”

  “Neither is marrying someone you don’t want at all,” Anne said.