Chapter 13 #2
“If you want the truth, love, I was scared to death,” he said softly, nuzzling her cheek as he spoke.
“It was a fight for a while there, between me and the tide, and I came close to losing it. But I thought of you the whole time, it was then I realised how much you meant to me, how much I wanted you in my life, and that I’d do nigh on anything to get you, and the world could damn me and curse me as much as it pleased for having the audacity to marry so far above my station.
That is, if you’ve not changed your mind? ”
Anne sighed, her fury evaporating. She threw her arms about him and buried her face against his neck. “Ridiculous man,” she mumbled. “As if I would be so craven. I shall never give you up, not for anyone’s sake, and certainly not to the sea.”
His hold on her tightened and he let out a sigh that seemed to come from deep inside him. “Then kiss me and show me you forgive me for causing you such trouble.”
Anne did, swept away in a moment as his arms wrapped around her, his mouth beguiled and enchanted her, drawing her on, making her want more, need more.
She moaned softly, pressing closer as his hands slid down her back, down over her hip and lower.
He gathered her skirts, fistfuls at a time, drawing them higher until his hand slid beneath, finding the bare skin of her thigh.
Anne gasped, the feel of his hand upon her naked flesh incendiary.
“I want you,” he murmured, nipping at her ear. “I want you now. If you’ve no objection, we’ll be married the moment the banns have been called, but three weeks seems like a damned long time, love. I’ll lose my mind if I cannot make love to you now, to make you my own, for now and for always.”
Anne whimpered as his hand slid higher and his lips pressed to the pulse that beat wildly beneath the skin of her throat.
“Do you trust me enough to be with me now, tonight?” he asked her, his face burrowing into her hair as her heart beat wildly out of control.
She wanted to scream her answer, to throw caution to the wind and take him to her bed, but she could not do so, not yet. Not until she had made her confession.
She withdrew a little, breathing hard, regretting the need to delay even for a moment, but she must tell him all. Yet she could not meet his eyes.
“I want to,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “I want to very badly, and I shall, but… but first I have a confession of my own.”
“Oh? What devilry have you been up to?” he asked with a smile, which faded as she forced herself to look at him, and with such an expression of dismay his demeanour changed at once. “Anne? What is it?”
“I’m a little frightened to tell you,” she admitted, twisting her fingers together. “B-But it was a lie that Mrs Fairway and I agreed upon telling when I ran away from home, to pr-protect me.”
His body tensed at her words, any lingering good humour vanishing as something like fear clouded his eyes. “It’s your husband,” he said, the words bleak.
Anne nodded.
He moved so swiftly she gasped, finding herself sitting alone on the settee as he stared down at her, wild-eyed with alarm.
Anne gazed back at him, wondering why he looked so dreadful.
She had known he might be shocked, but Mrs Fairway had made her believe he might not be displeased upon hearing the truth.
He might even be glad. Yet, it was a lie, and she was not exactly what he thought she was, and that troubled her a good deal.
“He’s not dead,” he guessed, his fists clenching.
Anne stared at him in shock. “What?” she said, so surprised by his guessing so incorrectly that she could not find her voice for a moment.
“Damn it, Anne!” he said, his voice taut with desperation. “Tell me at once before I lose my wits. Is he still alive?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “That is, he is neither dead nor alive, for he never existed.”
King stared at her, looking as though he had heard her words but could not comprehend them. “What?”
Anne twisted the thin gold band she had worn on her finger for so many years, feeling wretched and yet defiant, for the lie had been a good one, and necessary too.
“I was never married. Mr Adamson was a fiction, concocted to give me a measure of respectability. Why on earth did you think we needed death certificates and marriage certificates?” she demanded in frustration, wondering why such a man hadn’t guessed the truth.
“Mrs Fairway said there was a fire, you’d lost the records,” he said, a dazed expression on his face now, which was a slight improvement.
“Oh, that was a good notion,” she said approvingly. “But there wasn’t, you see.”
King sat down again, grasping her hands very tightly and gazing at her in wonder. “My darling girl, you must forgive me, I think I am very dull tonight, but could I clarify, just so there is no confusion… have you ever been married?”
“No, never,” she said simply.
“There never was a Mr Adamson, or a man who purported to be your husband?” he added cautiously.
“No, never,” she repeated.
“Then who the devil is the man in the painting?” he asked in exasperation, frowning at her.
“I don’t have the faintest idea,” she said with a shrug. “Mrs Fairway found it in a shop in town before we left. She said it would be more believable if I had a portrait of my dead husband that people could see.”
King gave a sudden bark of laughter and lowered his head, pressing them against her hands. “Devil take me,” he said in wonder. “Good God.”
“J-Jasper?” Anne said uncertainly. “You’re not cross, are you?”
He looked up, such happiness and delight shining in his eyes that she could do nothing but smile.
“My love, how can I be? Not only is there no dead man for me to compete with for your heart, but you have never suffered the calamity that I feared you might have done, that you might always regret the loss of an old life. You damn near gave me a heart attack, you wicked creature, but I am gladder than you will ever know.”
Anne let out a breath and leaned back against the settee, holding her arms out to him. “Oh, I’m so relieved. Then come and kiss me, and make love to me, and show me how it will be when we are married.”
A pained look crossed his face, and he took a hurried step backwards. “I’m a blackguard for ever having suggested such a thing,” he said crossly, running an agitated hand through his hair so it stuck up at odd angles.
“What?” Anne sat up, frowning at him. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean that you’ll be just as you are now when you walk up the aisle. I’m many things, Anne, but a seducer of innocents is not one of them.”
Anne stared at him with growing annoyance. “Don’t be so silly.”
He looked offended by the remark and folded his arms. “It isn’t silly. I may not be a gentleman in the eyes of the world, but you are most certainly a lady, and I shall treat you with the respect you are due.”
“So, you didn’t respect me when you thought I’d been married?” she demanded.
“Don’t twist my words,” he said in frustration. “You know I have the greatest respect for you and always have. But there is a difference between you as a widow and as an unmarried lady, and don’t make out like you don’t understand it, for I know very well that you do!”
Anne huffed, mirroring his stance by folding her arms and looking mutinous. “I never took you for a stick-in-the-mud.”
“You may call me as many names as you like,” he said devoutly. “It won’t change a thing.”
Anne made a sound of sheer exasperation but could find nothing sensible to say.
“Which makes me wonder what your real name is,” he added curiously.
“Miss Anne Harding,” she replied, scowling at him.
“Ah, don’t, Anne,” he said, soothing now as he came and sat back down beside her. “I promise you I’m dying with wanting you. It’s no easy thing to play the gentleman and I’ve little experience with it. Help me out, darling, please.”
Anne glanced at him, seeing such sincerity in his eyes, such a desire to be everything that he ought for her sake that she could not remain cross with him
“Oh, very well. If you are determined to be honourable about it, who am I to deny you?” she said, smiling reluctantly. “I know you are doing what you think is right, as you have always done. I have always admired that about you, so I can hardly complain now, can I?”
She reached out and stroked his cheek. It was dreadfully hard to resist the urge to kiss him, but she did it, for his sake if not her own.
He made a sound low in his throat and then sprang to his feet again. “I think I’d best be going,” he said gruffly. “If you keep looking at me like that, I shall hate myself before morning.”
Despite herself, Anne laughed, flattered by his evident frustration. It might have been funnier still if she had not felt it every bit as much as he did.
“Please can we visit Reverend Honeywell first thing?” she asked as he stalked to the door.
“I think we better had, don’t you?” he said ruefully, and then turned, holding out his hand to ward her off. “No, don’t come any closer, Madame Temptress. I’ll not go to the devil entirely before we are married. Good night, love. I’ll be here at eight a.m. sharp. Be ready.”
“I will!” she exclaimed, blowing him a kiss as he closed the door firmly upon her.