“Why do I think that’s not quite the same thing as a yes?”
She let out another little sigh. The sun felt so nice on her face. She couldn’t even bring herself to worry about freckles.
“What will I do with you?” he said aloud. She heard him move, and then his voice was much closer to her ear. “I can keep coming up with new ways to compromise you.”
She giggled.
“Let me think. Number ten…”
“I do it, too,” she said, still happily studying the insides of her eyelids. The sunlight made them orangey red. It was such a nice, warm color.
“Do what?”
“Count in tens. It’s such a nice round number.”
He nipped her earlobe. “I like nice round things.”
“Stop.” But even she didn’t think she sounded like she meant it.
“Do you know how I know you’re going to marry me?”
She opened her eyes for that. He sounded quite sure of himself. “How?”
“Look at you. So happy and content. If you weren’t going to marry me, you’d be running about like a
chicken—no, sorry, a turkey—yipping on aboutwhat have I done andwhat have you done andwhat have we done ?”
“I’m thinking all those things,” she told him.
He snorted. “Right.”
“You don’t believe me.”
He kissed her. “Not for a second. But it hasn’t been a full day yet, and I’m a man of my word, so I won’t badger you.” He stood and then held out his hand to her.
Annabel took it and rose to her feet, smiling with disbelief. “That wasn’t badgering?”
“My dear Miss Winslow, I have not even begun to badger.” And then his eyes took on a most devilish light. “Hmmm.”
“What?”
He chuckled to himself as he led her up the hill to the path. “Has there ever been a Winslow Most Likely to Outrun a Badger competition?”
She laughed all the way back to Stonecross.
Chapter Twenty-one
Later that night
Did you see him this afternoon?”
Annabel would have looked up at Louisa, who had just entered the room, except that Nettie had a viselike grip on her hair.
“Which him?” Annabel asked. “Ow! Nettie!”
Nettie yanked even harder, twisting a piece and pinning it into place. “Sit still and it won’t take so long.”
“You know which him,” Louisa said, pulling up a chair.
“You wore blue,” Annabel said, smiling at her. “It’s my favorite color on you.”
“Don’t try to change the subject.”
“She hasn’t seen him,” Nettie said.
“Nettie!”
“Well, you haven’t,” the maid declared.
“I haven’t,” Annabel confirmed. “Not since luncheon.”
The midday meal had been served al fresco, and as there was no set seating, Annabel had ended up at a table for four with Sebastian, his cousin Edward, and Louisa. They had had a marvelous time, but halfway through, Lady Vickers had requested a private word with Annabel.
“What do you think you are doing?” she demanded, once they were off to the side.
“Nothing,” Annabel had insisted. “Louisa and I—”
“This is not about your cousin,” Lady Vickers bit off. She grabbed Annabel’s arm, hard. “I am talking about Mr. Grey, who is not, may I point out, the Earl of Newbury.”
Annabel could see that her grandmother’s rising voice was attracting attention, so she lowered her own, hoping that her grandmother would follow suit. “Lord Newbury isn’t even here yet,” she said. “If he were, I would—”
“Sit with him?” Lady Vickers raised an extremely skeptical brow. “Hang on his every word and behave for all the world like a harlot?”
Annabel gasped and drew back.
“Everyone is staring at you,” Lady Vickers hissed. “You can do whatever you want once you’re married. I’ll even tell you how to go about doing it. But for now, you will remain—and your reputation will remain—pure as the bloody driven snow.”
“What do you imagine I have been doing?” Annabel said in a low voice. Surely her grandmother did not know what had happened by the pond. No one did.
“Have I taught you nothing?” Lady Vickers’ eyes, as clear and sober as Annabel had ever seen them, settled hard on hers. “It doesn’t matter what you do, it matters what people think you do. And you’re staring at that man like you’re in love with him.”
But she was.
“I’ll try to do better,” was all Annabel said.
She finished her meal, because there was no way she would be seen running off to her room right after her grandmother publicly scolded her. But as soon as she’d finished eating, she excused herself and retired for the afternoon. She told Sebastian she needed to rest. Which was true. And that she did not want to be present when his uncle finally arrived.
Which was also true.
So she’d settled on her bed withMiss Sainsbury . And her mysterious colonel. And told herself that she deserved an afternoon to herself. She had a great deal to think about.
She knew what she wanted to do, and she knew what sheshould do, and she knew that these were not the same things at all.
She also knew that if she kept her head in a book for the entire afternoon, she might be able to ignore the whole awful mess for a few hours.
Which was remarkably appealing.
Maybe if she just waited long enough, something would happen, and all of her problems would disappear.
Her mother could find a long-lost diamond necklace.
Lord Newbury could find a girl with even bigger hips.
There could be a flood. A plague. Really, the world was full of calamities. Just look at poor Miss Sainsbury. In chapters three through eight she’d fallen off the side of a ship, was captured by a privateer, and nearly trampled by a goat.
Who was to say the same things might not happen to her?
Although, all things considered, the diamond necklace was a bit more
