Chapter Seven
Annabelle fumed as the carriage rolled to a stop before her residence.
Brent Madden! Unscrupulous Duke of Redwyck!
Knox. Just you wait! The man hadn’t been home, and while she had no earthly clue where his usual haunts were, that hadn’t stopped her from having her driver ride all over London in search of him.
Pure annoyance had driven her home in the end.
The carriage jerked to a halt, and before the footman could properly assist her, Annabelle pushed the door open herself. She stormed up to her home, skirts gathered in one hand, envisioning all the ways she was going to scold that scoundrel to Hades when she finally caught him.
A presence at the edge of her vision pulled her gaze upward.
Annabelle stopped short.
He stood before her door, hat in hand, coat faintly dusted from the road, cravat missing. His dark hair bore the unmistakable mark of a hard ride, and he was staring at her intently, almost broodingly.
Hah!
This rogue. What did he have to brood about? She was the one who had every right to brood! “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I’ve come to offer myself to you.”
Had the man lost his mind? “Offer yourself?” Her eyes narrowed. “Again? Do I look like I’m in need of you?”
“No,” he said, eyes burning. “I am in need of you.”
Her lips parted.
No! No, no, no.
Do not soften, Annabelle.
She crossed her arms. “Well, the only need I have for you is your hide. Are you here to offer that up, too?”
“Yes.”
That threw her a bit off, and the sharp retort she had prepared hovered uselessly on her tongue.
Annabelle was at a rare momentary loss for words.
Why was the man being so agreeable? The fight that had propelled her across London wavered in the face of him standing there so plainly, as though he had already decided to endure whatever she dealt him.
It was maddening. Wouldn’t raking him over the coals be like scolding a leopard for being a leopard?
All she wanted to do was rush up to him and fling herself into his arms, but she couldn’t even do that.
The reason for his presence was still too ambiguous.
“Well,” she said, lifting her chin, “you had your chance.”
He held her gaze for a moment before crossing the space between them. “I didn’t avoid you or run from you this morning, Annabelle.”
She arched a brow at him, at which he blinked, then suddenly chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I know I am a fool, Annabelle, but I’d like to believe I’m not a complete blackguard.” He took her hand in his. “I had business in town. I returned right after, only to find you had left, too.”
He had returned to the party? Her heart skipped multiple beats. “You mean to say that I was not merely a night’s diversion?”
“God, no. You could never be that.”
She shook her head, hesitant. She wanted to believe him.
Badly. However, the bite of learning he’d left without a word still smarted.
She’d never felt more the fool. At heart, she understood she could not hold him responsible for what she was feeling, but the hurt remained all the same.
Thankfully, not enough to doubt him, simply enough to be cautious.
He fished out a small box from his coat pocket. “I did not ride away from you.” He opened the box. “I rode for this.”
Annabelle gasped and retreated several steps.
Inside the small leather box rested a gold band set with deep-blue sapphires. For a moment, she did not comprehend what she was seeing.
A ring.
“What is this?” she asked, gaze unable to leave the unexpected jewel.
“For me, you exist beyond all scope of reason, Annabelle Swanley. Marry me.”
Annabelle stumbled backward as if struck by lightning.
*
Panic seized him.
Was she running for the hills?
His palms broke out in a sweat. Never in his life had he ever been so helpless. He could only wait and watch the various expressions that flashed across his siren’s face as she stared at the ring. Shock, astonishment, doubt, joy, suspicion, disbelief. He caught them all.
Had he made another misstep?
He didn’t know. He supposed he ought to be grateful he’d hadn’t detected any horror.
A small mercy. He suddenly wished he’d bothered to ask for advice from his friends.
Both of them had unconventional stories about their unions, but they had more knowledge than him.
His own experiences with women was supremely inadequate.
He was used to being the one in control, but standing here with his heart laid bare in a small leather box, he felt entirely disarmed.
“Annabelle?”
Her gaze lifted to his. “Are you being serious?”
“I’ve never been more serious in my life than I am about this, sweetheart.”
Her gaze flicked between him and the ring again, and he tried not to explode at her hesitation.
“Knox . . .”
“I know I’m not the best man for you,” he began before she could continue, his voice dropping.
“I know the rumors about me. Hell, I know the truth of them better than anyone. I’m the son of a man who never understood the value of anything except money, had a callous disregard for the rest. I’ve spent my life convinced I was, at least in part, cut from the same dark cloth. ”
Her lips parted, and Knox took a step closer, his knuckles turning white gripping the ring box.
“I’ve told you I’m no gentleman. I don’t give a shite about much.
I’m not worthy of you in any sense of the word, but I want you anyway.
If you’ll have me, I’ll spend every breath I have left trying to become the man you deserve.
” His eyes searched hers. “Do you think you could ever love a man like me?”
She blinked at him as though he’d lost his senses. “What are you even saying?” Her voice rose in incredulous heat. “Of course I could love a man like you! I already do!”
The air tore from his lungs as if he’d taken a blow to the gut. “You do? You love me?”
She stepped up to him, her small hands clasping his, covering his fingers that held the ring. “I don’t know when or how it happened,” her eyes lit with bright, fierce certainty, “but I do know that since the moment I first met you, my heart already refused to look away.”
“Christ, Annabelle,” Knox breathed, his forehead dropping toward hers, the tension finally ebbing from his body. “That’s a bloody damn relief.”
She grinned up at him, the mischief he’d come to adore flashing across her face. “You are worth everything you want, Knox. If you don’t believe that, I’ll remind you of that every day. Be sure of that.”
His lips twitched. “Even if I can’t help raising a brow now and then?”
She snorted, but her smile didn’t waver. “Even then.”
“So, then,” he asked softly, his gaze probing for any mark of lingering caution. “You’ll marry me?”
She flung herself into his arms.
Knox snapped the ring case shut just in time to envelop her, his large hands finding her waist and lifting her clear off the ground.
“Of course I will!”
He laughed, spinning her once, the world around them blurring, before his lips finally found hers in a kiss that tasted of a brand-new and very permanent promise.
A door slammed, and a second later a voice boomed, “What in God’s name is going on here?”
Knox groaned.
He’d almost forgotten about their whereabouts.
And his future brother-in-law.
“Levington!” the furious shout thundered. “Get me my damn pistols!”
The End.
For now.