He pressed a kiss to her wrist before he climbed inside and lifted her onto his lap. “Darling, I am never letting you go.”
The first rays of dawn speared over the horizon as Rafe stared down at his sleeping betrothed. They’d come back to Brixton Park, where he’d carried Anne upstairs to a room Ripley had prepared for her.
Rafe had no idea how the rest of the party had gone, but assumed London would be abuzz tomorrow with the story of Ludlow Mallory and his band of brigands. He didn’t care about any of it, just that Anne was safe and whole.
He wiped his hand over his face and leaned back in the chair beside her bed, closing his eyes. Exhaustion weighted him, but his mind was too busy to sleep. Everything would be simpler now that Mallory was dead. No one would contest his claim to the earldom, at least.
Would it really be simple though?
He couldn’t change the fact that everyone knew about his past. He might never be accepted. Hell, perhaps the Committee for Privileges might decide that Lorcan would be the better earl. Rafe wasn’t sure he could bring himself to lament the loss of the title if that came to pass. Again, it only mattered that Anne was here with him and that their future lay before them.
“Rafe?”
He opened his eyes and bolted forward. “Yes?”
Anne winced as she blinked at him from the bed. “This is the worst headache I’ve ever had.”
One of Mallory’s brigands had hit her pretty damned hard. Rafe wasn’t sure which one, and that was for the best since Rafe probably would have done the same to him in return.
He moved to sit beside her on the bed and gently kissed her forehead. “It will be for at least a day or so, I’m afraid.”
“You’re speaking from experience?”
“I’ve suffered a blow like that a time or two,” he admitted.
She took his hand between hers. “You will never suffer again. Not while I draw breath.”
“My fierce avenging angel.” He laughed softly.
“I told you that you’re mine. I protect what’s mine.”
“Lucky for me. I’d hate to be in opposition to you.” He shuddered, and she laughed.
Lifting her hand to her head, she grimaced. “Ow, don’t make me laugh.”
“I’ll try not to. At least not until you’re healed.”
“When will you officially become the earl?” she asked.
“I have no idea.”
She looked about the room. “Aren’t we still at Brixton Park?”
“Yes.”
“Then ask Ripley. He’s on the Committee for Privileges. He’ll tell you.”
Rafe chuckled. “It’s the middle of the bloody night, Anne.”
“After what would have been one of the best balls of the Season and is now legendary given what happened. I guarantee there are plenty of people up and about, and the host is one of them.” She pushed on his chest. “Go find out.”
“Why is this important right now?”
She stared at him as if he were the one with a head injury. “Because the sooner you become the earl, the sooner you can get a special license, and the sooner we can be wed.”
“Your priorities are astonishing.”
“They’re perfect, and I know you agree.”
She was right. He did. “Fine, I’ll go find Ripley. Shall I bribe him?”
She opened her eyes wider with sharp interest. “Do you think that will help?”
His answering laugh was much louder this time. “I’m trying to show that I’m not a criminal anymore.”
“Oh, yes. That’s true.” She settled into the pillow, a thoroughly charming and rather satisfied smile curling her lips.
“You look pleased with yourself.”
“I am. I’ve snared the most handsome, the most fascinating, the most wonderful man in London. No, the world.”
It was hard not to feel flattered and…loved. Rafe swallowed past the lump in his throat. He leaned down and kissed her. “Sleep. You need it.”
“I’ll try.” She turned and snuggled into the bedclothes.
Rafe watched her for another moment before turning toward the door. He contemplated whether he should don his coat and cravat, which he’d removed hours ago, and ultimately decided not to bother.
Before he reached the door, there was a soft rap. He opened it to find Jane standing on the other side of the threshold, her expression gently creased with anxiety. “How is she?” she whispered.
“I’m fine,” Anne called from the bed.
Smirking, Rafe shook his head. “She’s fine.”
“Sounds like it,” Jane said wryly. “I bring news from Ripley. Do you want to hear it?” she asked loudly.
Rafe heard movement from the bed and turned to see Anne struggling to sit up. He rushed to her side to help. “You need to rest,” he admonished.
“I am resting. I didn’t leap out of bed and do a jig, did I?” She looked past him toward Jane, who’d come into the chamber. “What news?”
“It seems the members of the Committee for Privileges who were present tonight, and it was the majority of them, have already decided that Rafe will be the earl.”
Anne’s face brightened, and her reaction was even more thrilling than the news itself. “Truly?”
Jane nodded. “They will formalize it on Monday.” She turned to Rafe and curtsied. “My lord.”
As the reality of this change settled over him, Rafe began to understand just how much his life had altered and would continue to do so. He would bear no resemblance to the boy or young man he’d been. A part of him was sad. For all his mistakes and regrets, he couldn’t deny who he was.
“What of my past?” he asked softly. “Didn’t they care?”
“They did,” Jane said slowly. “But, they understood that you were kidnapped, that you did the best you could in the life that was thrust upon you through no fault of your own. They also know of your kindness and generosity to orphans.” She touched his shirt sleeve. “That speaks volumes about your true character, Rafe.”
“She’s right,” Anne said, still beaming. “I’m so glad the committee saw that. Oh, this is wonderful. Now you can get the special
