He didn’t believe that, not after the things he’d done. “You don’t know me,” he whispered.
“I’m trying to. I want to. How can I help? I want to be your friend—like Harry.”
Rafe smiled at that. “Please, not like Harry.”
She laughed softly and, standing on her toes, twined her arms around his neck, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Rafe lightly clasped her waist. That wasn’t natural. What felt natural would be to hold her tightly to him. He didn’t do that.
“You’re going to be very popular as soon as everyone hears about your claim.”
He winced. “I’m afraid of that most of all.”
“Are you?”
“I value my privacy.” He resisted the urge to move his hands to her back. “Besides, if I’m the center of attention, you can’t very well call on me anymore—even in the company of your sister on the pretense of asking about my charitable donations.”
She grinned. “Probably not. I’ll just have to find a way to avoid notice. I’m good at not getting caught. Speaking of that, if you postpone submitting your claim until Thursday, we can still go to Magazine Day on Wednesday. I’ve procured a man’s costume as you directed.”
“Have you now?” His hands slowly crept around her waist despite his best intentions. She was far too close, and he simply couldn’t resist. “I must admit I would appreciate just a few more days of anonymity.” Besides, Harry had dispatched a clerk to Stonehaven, and they planned to wait for the man’s report before moving forward. He would not return before Magazine Day. “How will you get away?”
She lifted a shoulder as she toyed with his shirt collar. “I’ll say I’m taking a nap. You can pick me up in the Grosvenor Street mews.”
“You’ve thought this through.”
“I have.” She gave him a shrewd stare. “I like to plan.”
“I do admire a strategic mind.” He admired everything about her, from her intelligence to her passion for trying and seeing new things. She seemed rather fearless, he realized, and that was incredibly intoxicating. “Are you afraid of anything?” he asked.
“Being alone.” She snapped her lips together in a slight frown. “I didn’t realize I was going to say that. In fact, I didn’t know I felt that way until this moment.”
“I can’t imagine you need to worry about that.” He splayed his palms against her lower back. “Won’t your sister suspect what you’re about? Since she brought you here today.”
“Perhaps.” She tipped her head from side to side. “Probably. I’m not much for taking naps, I’m afraid. It doesn’t matter—she won’t begrudge me, and she certainly won’t tell anyone.”
He laughed. “You have a good sister.”
Anne beamed up at him. “So do you. I like Selina very much.”
He did have a good sister. That morning, they’d traveled to the Croydon Parish Church and spoken to the vicar. He’d hadn’t known their “uncle,” Edgar Blackwell, but when Rafe had described their nurse, he’d said it sounded like one of his former parishioners—a Pauline Blaylock. Dark-haired with a beautiful voice, she’d left home to take a position as a nurse decades before. Her family had been proud that she’d gone to work for an earl.
Unfortunately, the Blaylock family had all died or moved far away from Croydon, with the exception of one person: Pauline’s younger sister. She was married to an innkeeper in Redhill. They hadn’t had time to travel farther south to visit her at the Golden Eagle today, but they would soon.
“What time should I be ready on Wednesday?” Anne asked.
Her question jolted him from his recollection of his trip to Croydon. “Ah, ten?”
“So early. For Society, but not for me. I’ll be ready.” She gave him a coy look and slipped her fingers into the hair at his nape. This was very similar to when she’d kissed him at the Chapter Coffee House. When he’d been swept away by his overwhelming attraction to her. It would be far too easy to allow that again…
He forced himself to take his hands from her and step back. “Are you certain this is wise?”
Her brow furrowed with disappointment. “Going to Magazine Day? I owe you an excursion since I missed our last one.”
She was clever. He’d give her that. And it wasn’t as if she was manipulating him. He knew precisely what he was doing, that agreeing to take her, hell, seeing her here and now, invited intimacy. At least the physical kind. He wasn’t capable of anything else. She needed to know that.
He took her hand and guided her back to the settee, sitting them both down so they faced each other. “Anne, you need to understand something. You’ve said—repeatedly—that you wish to be my friend. I gratefully accept your friendship. However, I can’t accept more, and it seems you…would like more.”
She narrowed her eyes briefly and swallowed. “Because I kissed you and nearly did so again just now?”
“Yes.”
“Would that be so bad?”
“For you? Yes. You are not the sort of woman I should be kissing.”
“What does that mean?” She sounded a bit angry, and her eyes blazed.
“It means a woman like you deserves a man who will kiss you and then marry you. I am not that man, nor will I ever be.”
Her gaze calmed, and she regarded him with curiosity. “Why not?”
“Because I was married before, and I don’t wish to be again.”
She blinked as a slight tremor raced through her. He could see it in the flutter of her throat and the gentle twitch of her shoulders.
“What happened?” she asked.
Rafe worked to keep the specific memories at bay. He never indulged them. To do so was madness and despair. “She died. I loved her very much.” More than life. And she’d been carrying their child. The loss of the family he’d so desperately wanted was a hole inside him that would never heal. Vengeance hadn’t soothed his pain; nothing would.
Anne’s
