Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
Edward
Annette stiffened in my arms, and I pulled back enough to take in her frightened expression.
Lord Paxton had been correct in his assumptions that she feared to marry, and now I knew the cause.
She had witnessed firsthand the manipulation that often accompanied courtships.
I could not deny that many men viewed it as a game, one in which they needed to secure the highest fortune or social rank to win.
Clearly, Mr. Wilcot was the type of man willing to tie himself to a woman merely for the benefits she would provide him, excusing all reason to involve his heart in the matter.
Inwardly, I cringed. Was I so dissimilar?
My plan had been to court and marry Annette without involving either of our hearts, the difference being my intent to be honest in the reasons for my pursuit of her.
Even in this, I hadn’t succeeded, for I kept her father’s offer a secret.
Annette would reject me outright if she knew of it.
I longed to tell her, but I also feared it. Never mind that I had made Lord Paxton a promise to keep it a secret, I could not risk being honest about what prompted my attempts to woo her. She would surely react poorly to the information, and I…I would lose her.
The mere thought sent a pang radiating through my chest. My intention to keep my heart out of this had been shredded.
It was involved, quite heavily, and that kiss had rendered me unable to deny my affections for this woman.
I needed the money from Lord Paxton to save Adda and bring Hollinsby to justice—needed it to help the thousands sold into slavery each year.
But I also needed Annette. Not because marrying her came with a fortune, but because she brought light to my soul.
She understood my passion for abolition and had not teased or berated me for it.
Instead, she’d offered to support me in the endeavor.
Offered me a partnership. That one declaration had removed the veil over my eyes, and with it gone, every feeling I had attempted to bury rose swiftly to the surface.
Yes, I needed Annette. Her support and passion would be an aid to my cause.
But even if I stripped that away, I was left with one, undeniable truth: I wanted her.
No, I yearned for her—her touch, her kiss, her heart.
I wanted all of it, all of her. She could never be my wife in name only, not when I so desperately desired more.
After the way she had returned my kisses, I held hope that she wished for the same.
That some part of her cared for me as well.
My thumb caressed her cheek, and the fear in her bright eyes dimmed a little.
Could I convince her that my intentions were pure?
That my proposed courtship had nothing to do with money?
Even without Lord Paxton’s offer, I wanted this woman at my side.
I would give up every pound and still pursue her heart, work to gain her affections.
Because Annette did not deserve to be treated as an item for purchase. A conversation with Lord Paxton needed to be had. I could not—would not—accept that money.
“Annette,” I whispered. “Will you allow me to court you?”
She bit her lip, drawing my attention to her mouth, and it required every bit of my self-control not to kiss her again.
“I…I don’t know, Edward,” she said. “I never planned to marry. It was never something that I wanted.”
“Has that changed? Is marriage something you would consider?”
She stared at me, her brows furrowed with pensiveness. This question was not easy for her to answer. Fear raged inside her, that much I could see.
I reached for her hand and brought it to my chest, pressing it flat over my pounding heart.
“I cannot express the depth of my admiration for you. I understand your hesitation, your reluctance. Truly, I do. After the way Wilcot has treated your friend—a friend you clearly love—I can see why you would question my intentions. But I promise you, Annette, that my admiration is genuine. I care deeply for you, and I would never wish to control you. I would never hinder your freedom deliberately in any way. The two of us could work together, as equals, to bring about change. We could fight for freedom, not just for those who have been enslaved but for women who have become victims to unfeeling husbands. We can fight for reform.”
She blinked, moisture gathering in her eyes. “You would fight for more than abolition? For women to have a path out of marriage?”
“Yes,” I responded firmly. “I would.”
She tilted her head. “Why? No other man of my acquaintance would do so.”
“Because it is important to you; therefore, it is important to me. Because you’ve opened my eyes to its necessity.
Because…” Something stirred in my chest, and it felt too strong to be labeled as simple admiration.
I was not yet ready to analyze the sensation, but it swelled nonetheless, leaving me with no doubt that I would do anything for this woman if she asked it of me. “Because I want to.”
She studied me for a long moment before averting her gaze. “You seem to have given this a great deal of thought. Indeed, you sound closer to a proposal than to courtship.”
There was a question in that statement, one I did not know how to answer without revealing too much. “I have given it a fair bit of thought, yes. After arriving at Kenwick and spending more time in your company, I realized a match with you is the only one I find tolerable.”
Her lips lifted, though she still did not meet my gaze. “Tolerable? How flattering, Lieutenant.”
“It certainly is. You will remember the flock of debutantes I had following me at any given time. I was never without interested females.”
Her nose scrunched adorably. “How could I forget? It was the entire reason you enlisted me for a pretend courtship.”
“One that worked splendidly, until you left.”
Laughter bubbled out of her. “I confess that I often wondered how you fared after we left for Kenwick.” Her smile faded, and she looked at me.
Not just at me, but into me. She saw everything I wanted and hoped for, and I had no desire to hide any of it from her.
Annette tilted her head, her words soft.
“You said after arriving at Kenwick. That is when you realized that we would suit?”
I nodded, uncertain why those words had stood out to her.
In truth, I had briefly considered what it would be like to court her in earnest during our facade in London.
But I had tossed the notion aside. At the time, I had no intention of marrying soon, and Annette had thoroughly despised me.
A match between us never would have worked.
Or so I had believed until we kissed. The days following our meeting in the alley, I had missed her, much to my chagrin, and longed for her company. But such consideration of courtship had been in vain. She had left Town, and I had been unsure I would ever see her again.
Until my pursuit of Hollinsby brought me here.
The moment my eyes had fallen on her in that vestibule, my chest felt near to bursting. Excitement, anticipation, happiness—experiencing them with a single glimpse of her pointed to one thing, and even now, I feared allowing myself to fully accept that very obvious conclusion.
I took a step back, putting space between us, and clasped my hands behind my back.
“I know we have vexed one another in the past, and we likely shall in the future, but I believe we could do great things together despite that. I have never felt more confident in pursuing my goals than when I am with you. I’ve no great wealth and only a small amount of influence among the ton.
But with you at my side, I would overcome those obstacles, not simply due to the title attached to your name, but because of your spirit and determination. Your wit and charm.”
“My wit and charm? You wish me to woo the ton?” She tapped a finger against those tempting lips, and a mischievous glint lit her eyes. “I suppose I could do that. Is that all you would require of me? As your wife, I mean.”
Your wife. My heart tripped over those words. I liked the way she spoke them while looking at me. “As I said, I would never oppose your independence. I would require nothing, though there are things I hope we can share, as most married couples do.”
“Like a home?” she suggested without hesitation.
“Yes.”
“And mealtimes?” She tilted her head, mock pensiveness filling her features. “Although, I must insist we retain separate trays. I cannot abide sharing my food, especially dessert. Russell is always snatching my sweets, and I could never marry a man who did the same.”
I chuckled. “Well, as I’ve learned the sort of revenge you take when someone steals your sweets, I aim to avoid that. One salty tart was more than enough experience for me.”
She giggled but quickly covered it with forced somberness. “I am glad we have an understanding on that front. What else shall we share?”
How much should I confess? I wanted to share everything with her, but would such a blunt response scare her away? Annette was only beginning to consider marriage. The last thing I wanted was to cause a retreat.
I stepped toward her, once again eliminating the space between us. “We would share evenings by a glowing hearth following dinner. We would discuss our day and our plans for the morrow. Speak of our failures and successes.”
“And then? What would we do after that?” Her words were breathless, quiet.
I reached out and brushed my fingers down her arm. She shivered beneath my touch, and I reveled in having such an effect on her.
“We would retire in whatever way you desired,” I whispered.
“And if I desired a family? Children?”
“Then we will have them, Annette. Whatever you desire our relationship to be, it shall be.”
Silence settled between us as she continued to study me. I allowed her the time she needed to consider my offer, a practice in patience if ever there was one.
“I think you are right. We could truly make a difference working together.” Her lips lifted ever so slightly, as did her brows. “I suppose the kissing is not so bad either. We both seem to enjoy sharing those.”
Her words were teasing, but I didn’t miss the hint of uncertainty in them.
In this respect, I could offer sincere reassurance.
“I have certainly enjoyed kissing you and would not object to doing so again.” I learned close, my lips a hair’s breadth from her cheek.
“Again and again, as often as you wish.”
She turned her head and eagerly pressed her lips to mine. Her hands slid around my neck and into my hair. My body reacted without hesitation, and I pulled her fully into my arms, kissing her soundly.
Kissing her until we were both breathless and her soft whisper caressed my lips. “Court me, Edward. This time, for real.”
“It would be my honor.” My hand slid down her arm until it found hers. I interlocked our fingers. “Let’s get you home. I should see if your father is available.”
A wide smile stole over her lips, and a pang of guilt assaulted my chest. She would not smile if she knew what all that discussion would entail. If she knew her father had already granted his blessing, in addition to payment.
But I would remedy that mistake before kissing her again or proposing.
I would reject the viscount’s offer and petition for his permission free of any strings or financial encouragement.
Annette meant too much to me to even consider the money, no matter how much I needed it.
We would find a way to save Adda—to bring Hollinsby to justice—without it. We would work to propagate change.
We would do it together.
“Come,” I tugged on her hand, and she followed me without hesitation. I guided her to Lightning and assisted her onto the mount before climbing on behind her. We rode in silence, but just the feel of her body pressed against mine kept my heart beating at a jubilant pace.
We followed the path toward The Towers, and I slowed Lightning’s gait as we approached, grasping any excuse to hold Annette a little longer.
She held no objections, leaning back against me and sighing contentedly.
Each movement, each touch, painted a picture of my future, one that included this woman and hinted at a happiness I’d scarcely allowed myself to consider.
The horse entered the archway but jolted to a halt with a sharp whinny when the door to the east tower suddenly swung open. Annette sat up with a gasp as a man with disheveled blonde hair stepped out.
“Jack? What…” She looked from the tower door to her brother and back again. I was certain her thoughts matched my own. That door had been locked, and according to Lord Paxton, he’d given away the key. Why had the man not simply mentioned that his son possessed it?
“How did you get in there?” Annette asked, her tone a mix of bewilderment and chiding, as if she believed her brother had broken into the place.
Jack shifted on his feet, averting his gaze. “You look rather comfortable, sister.”
Indeed, and he looked rather uncomfortable. Much like a child caught doing something they shouldn’t.
“How did you get in there?” Annette repeated, this time her tone more demanding.
Jack shrugged. “With the key.”
“Th-the key,” Annette spluttered. “But—”
Jack spun around and marched out of the archway toward the house.
“He doesn’t seem inclined to explain,” I said.
Annette faced me, shooting me a look of annoyance. “Clearly, and his refusal only prods my curiosity. Why would Jack have the key?”
“I cannot say, and it is the least of my concerns. I have much more important endeavors to fill my thoughts and time with.”
One of her brows raised. “Is that so?”
“Indeed. It is not Jack I wish to thoroughly kiss again.” My gaze dropped briefly to her lips.
Annette’s cheeks tinted red, and she looked away. “I should hope not.”
A smile tugged at my mouth, and I clicked my tongue, signaling Lightning to move forward.
I had not confessed the depth of my affection for Annette, nor made an official proposal, but surely she knew?
Surely my actions reflected the sentiments I never voiced?
I had every intention of telling her, but not until I was free of my guilt.
Not until the threads of Lord Paxton’s offer were cut.