She inhaled sharply before a smile teased her lips. “A betrothal ring?”
“No. Sorry to disappoint you. I haven’t had time to purchase one. Plus, I’d like to know what you want.”
“Whatever you choose.” She looked up at him. “And you could never disappoint me.”
Except he would. As soon as he told her the truth about his past, who he’d been and the things he’d done. But perhaps she would understand?
He hated the thought of telling her and not because of his feelings. She didn’t deserve the inevitable disappointment.
Still, he had to tell her, or Colton would. Rafe would have to do so before Sunday when their betrothal was made public by the reading of the banns. That way she could decide not to marry him if she so chose. His gut clenched at the thought of losing her. He realized if not for Colton, he would likely not tell her at all.
He would at least delay telling her. These days of living with joy for the first time since Eliza’s death were too heady to ruin. He’d do it on Friday. Or Saturday.
She took the box from him and opened the lid. The cameo he’d purchased at the Burlington Arcade nestled on a bed of ivory velvet. Her gaze lifted to his. “It’s beautiful. But if you didn’t have time to buy a betrothal ring, how did you have time to get this?”
“I bought it the day you didn’t meet me at Hatchard’s. When you didn’t come, I went into the Burlington Arcade across the street—it had just opened. I saw this and it reminded me of you, both the profile and the fact that it’s oyster shell. It’s actually Aphrodite.”
“Like the folly,” she whispered, tracing the goddess’s head with her fingertip, her lips parted. When her eyes met his once more, she blinked away a tear. “Thank you. I’m so sorry I disappointed you that day.” She sniffed. “It’s the loveliest gift I’ve ever received. I can’t believe you bought it after I left you waiting. I’m so sorry. I wish we’d told each other our names. I would have sent you a message.” She edged closer to him. “I never would have let you go.”
Rafe cupped her face and lowered his head. She met his kiss with such a sweet and wild abandon that he moaned softly, deep in his throat. He clasped her lower back and slid his tongue along hers. She put one hand on the back of his neck, her fingers moving between his collar and flesh.
Afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop kissing her, touching her, he lifted his head. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I don’t like it. I love it. Here.” She handed him the box while she pinned the brooch onto the bodice of her pale blue gown. “How does it look?”
“Perfect. Like you.” He’d never seen anyone lovelier.
Never?
He felt a pang of sorrow as he thought of Eliza. He hated that he was replacing her. No, Anne was not a replacement. She couldn’t be, no matter how much he grew to care for her.
A rap on the door drew Anne to turn her head. When she looked back at Rafe, she frowned slightly, then exhaled. “I suppose our private time is over.”
“So it seems. One more thing. Selina has invited us, along with Beatrix and her husband and your sister and Colton, for dinner at Cavendish Square tomorrow night.”
“Lovely! I wondered if I was going to manage seeing you tomorrow.” With a delighted grin, she took the box from him and went to open the door.
Her sister and Colton stood outside, the latter glowering at Rafe as if he wanted to run him through with a sword. Rafe decided to look at Lady Colton instead. Her gaze was on Anne’s dress. “Did you just get that?”
Anne touched the cameo. “Yes. It’s a betrothal gift. Isn’t it spectacular?”
“Quite,” Jane said with a grin. “It looks a little like you.”
“That’s what Rafe thought.” She glanced back at him, her smile bright. “Is everyone ready to walk to the park?”
“Yes. I brought your hat and gloves,” Lady Colton said.
Ten minutes later, they were on their way toward the park. Rafe and Anne led the way with Colton and his wife following behind. “I hope you don’t mind, but Phoebe and Ripley are going to meet us,” Lady Colton called.
Anne looked back over her shoulder. “I don’t mind at all.” She looked toward Rafe as they walked into Grosvenor Square. “Do you know Ripley?”
“Yes, we’ve met. I’m looking forward to his ball on Saturday. I’ve long wanted to see Brixton Park, the maze in particular.” He darted a look at Anne, noting that she smiled mischievously when he mentioned the maze. “Will you be there?”
“I will now.” She gave him a look of seductive promise that made him wish it was Saturday night. “I’ve been mostly avoiding Society events, but now that we’re betrothed, I don’t have to fear being bothered by gentlemen looking for a wife.” She squeezed his arm gently. “And you don’t have to worry about anyone looking to snare you in the parson’s trap now that everyone will know you’re about to become an earl.”
He found it fascinating, and galling, that without the title, he was somehow less attractive, particularly because he was in trade, a fact he hadn’t tried to hide. People already knew he owned a pleasure garden in Clerkenwell—he’d met Selina’s sister-in-law there before she and Harry had wed. But did he want them to know he also owned a bookshop and, as of very recently, a publishing venture? He had many investments, but presumably other peers did too. “I think I need to go to earl school,” he murmured.
“What’s that?” Anne asked, leaning closer. “Did you say earl school?”
“I did.”
She laughed softly. “Hopefully, my godfather will
