He waited for his honor to kick in, or for it to feel wrong, but neither came. Indeed, it was, perhaps, the only thing that had felt right in a very, very long time. And his heart swelled as they kissed more deeply, as if it had been waiting for him to realize that what he was searching for had been in front of him, all along. Something he had acknowledged a few days ago, but had pushed away with all his might, fearing the change it might bring to his relationship with her.
No, Percy… You cannot give her what she wants, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind.
He fought to block out that irksome voice, and the touch of Anna’s lips proved to be a most beneficial distraction. Within seconds, he had regained that warm, blissful peace, where no warning bells could hope to chime.
Just then, Anna reached up to brush her fingertips across his cheek. But as they touched upon his still-sensitive bruise, a sharp pain splintered up the side of his face. A harsh gasp slipped from his throat and, in that instant, the whisper in his mind became a clamoring shout. The peace had shattered, well and truly.
You cannot love her. You cannot give her everything she has ever dreamed of. You are as unworthy as Lord Luminport.
He halted, breaking the kiss as those words circled in his mind. He willed them to be mistaken, but as he looked down into the wide and wonder-filled eyes of the beautiful woman in front of him, he knew that common sense had kicked in at last. He would only disappoint her, adding his name to her ‘spinster card,’ as Simon had done.
“I am sorry,” she murmured. “Did I hurt you?”
Love was her fairytale, and he did not believe in it either. Indeed, he had come to warn her because he thought she was in danger and had ended up putting her reputation at greater risk.
“No,Iapologize,” he said, stepping back. “I should not have done that. It was improper of me. Goodness, I do not know why I did that. It was… shameful.”
The sudden transformation upon Anna’s face was like taking a croquet mallet to the chest. Where before she had been wide-eyed and sparkling, she had now retreated behind her walls, staring at him with a coldness he had seen often enough.
She gave a small, stiff shrug. “No, that isnotsomething a self-proclaimed friend would do.”
“Anna, do not look at me like that. I?—”
She put her hand up to silence him. “I have forgotten it already. There is no need to make excuses or to make this into something it was not. I know you have no interest in marrying me, and I have no interest in marrying you. Let us consider it a mistake, made in a moment of vulnerability and confusion.”
She turned her back on him. “I will send a letter to Lady Joan from The Matchmaker tomorrow, so this will be over quickly. I will have played my part, and you can have what youtrulywant—an obedient, convenient wife, who knows her place and has no silly notions of love and such.” She paused. “I asked you to leave. Why did you not leave?”
“You were upset,” he said, fighting for something better to say, something to thaw the cold front that had set in.
“Clearly, distance and sense are what we both need,” she said quietly. “If you will not go, then I will.”
She headed for the Orangery doors that led back out into the gardens, and before he could think to stop her, she was gone, blending into the darkness. He stared at the open door for a second, then shook his head, realizing thathewas being the idiot. Indeed, if she would but give him a moment of her time, perhaps he could try to explain what was going on in his head. A moment to sift through the mess of thoughts to dig out the truth.
He was just about to cross the threshold to pursue her when the interior doors burst open, and Max and Dickie came running in, wearing expressions of fury.
“What on earth are you playing at?” Max spat, with more venom in his voice than Percy had ever heard. “Why have I just heard that you were alone in this room with my sister?”
Dickie eyed the open door. “I will catch her before she reaches the ballroom.”
“The ballroom?” Percy asked, puzzled. “Why?”
Max shook his head slowly, approaching. “What have you done, Sinclair? My goodness, what have you done?”
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
“Anna, wait!”
She turned sharply, half hoping that it was Percival in pursuit of her, as she hurriedly tried to smear the tears away from her face. But her heart sank when she saw that it was not Percival.
“Dickie, please. I do not wish to be disturbed. I am just going to walk alone for a while until I feel better. I do not need company, and I do not want a chaperone.” She sucked in a frantic breath. “I need to be on my own. I have had a very trying evening and?—”
Her brother caught up to her, almost knocking her flat as he put his arms around her, pulling her into the kind of tight, brotherly hug that was only going to make her tears worse.
“What is the meaning of this, little sister?” Dickie murmured. “This is not like you.”
Anna did not know whether to push him away or hug him tighter. “I do not know what you mean.”
“You have been around thetonlong enough to know that you should not be alone with a gentleman who is not your family,” he told her, his voice thick with nerves. “Worse, you should know not to be seen by anyone if youdoplan to be alone with a gentleman who is not a member of your family.”
