Page 37

All morning he had been unerringly polite. He had not uttered an untoward word. He simply acted as if nothing out of the ordinary happened last night, when in fact everything had changed. It was maddening.

She sniffed and plucked at the soft linen skirts of the fine traveling dress Lady Wentworth had procured for her. Ought she broach the subject herself?

“Have you taken ill?” he asked.

Her heart lurched at the unexpected sound of his voice after a good half hour of lapsed conversation, and she answered more sharply than necessary. “No, of course not. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve heard quite a few sniffles from your side of the coach.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

He gave a one-shoulder shrug and resumed his study of the passing scenery.

She chewed the inside of her lip. Why bother discussing last night at all? He seemed disinclined, and it wasn’t as if she was free to entertain an elicit affair. She was—technically—married, on the run, and heading straight for the bosom of Caden’s immediate family, one member of whom was an earl.

She ought to focus her mental energy there, and how Caden intended to explain her presence.

Abruptly, his head angled to face her. His gaze skimmed over her, brows furrowed, mouth curved downward in a matching scowl.

Finally, he meant to raise the subject of last night. “You may as well say what’s on your mind, Caden Thurgood.”

“I beg your pardon? Why assume I have something on my mind?”

“You’re frowning. ”

He gave her a chagrined smile. “I’m not frowning, I’m confounded. When I’m tired, the two can look the same. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Heat stole up her neck. She’d slept like a baby, ensconced in his lovely, warm embrace.

“I see.” She hoped he wouldn’t notice the breathless quality of her voice. “May I ask what has you confounded?”

He rubbed a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. “If you must know, it’s your gown.”

She looked down at herself. The traveling dress, fashioned of fine royal blue linen, fit her perfectly—and was cut in the first stare of fashion, unless she missed her mark. She might be mistaken. She hadn’t had occasion to shop for anything other than footwear in an age.

“You don’t like it?”

“It looks…” He broke off blowing air out his cheeks. He slumped into the corner, one long leg stretched out, the other bent at the knee and allowed his gaze to roam over her in a leisurely manner “…very nice,” he finished softly.

Her stomach did a slow somersault.

“Oh.” She cleared her throat and fought the urge to grin like a dolt. “This bothers you because…?”

He sat upright and crossed his arms over his chest. “Because the gown fits you as if made for you and, based on the size and weight of your trunk, appears to be one of many.”

“No mystery there. Lady Wentworth asked Lady Fenton to procure several of her daughter’s cast-offs for my use. In truth, I can’t imagine why Lady Bernadette wished to part with them, especially as none show the least sign of wear.”

She didn’t voice her suspicion that Lady Wentworth had not so much requested as demanded the frocks. What had inspired her to do so? Anna had many questions for Lady Wentworth, and the clothing she now possessed did not begin to top the list.

“Lady Bernadette’s cast-offs you say? She’s heaps taller than you, and a good deal more…”

“More what?” She recounted the lady’s ample bosom, especially as compared to her own. “And she’s not heaps taller.”

His lips twitched and a gleam of wicked amusement sparkled in his blue eyes. Oh, but the man was too clever by half.

“I wasn’t complaining. You’re perfect as you are.”

Pleasure bloomed within her at the softly spoken praise.

Her gaze dropped helplessly to his mouth. He hadn’t even kissed her this morning. He’d been up and dressed and ready to depart before she opened her eyes.

“My point is, Lady Wentworth went to a lot of trouble for you. Granted, she displayed an unapologetic fondness for you before all and sundry. Still. Stowing you away in Harrison’s vehicle and furnishing you with a posh wardrobe…”

And a tidy sum of pounds. And mother’s ruby.

“Seems like a monumental effort for a mere paid companion. And how about the fact she seemingly knew of your marriage to Bolton, and your distaste for same?”

“She obviously knew more than she let on. There’s something else, too.”

He met her gaze, his blue eyes alert. “Go on.”

“She…er…” She hadn’t broached either the large sum of money or the ruby she’d found inside her trunk, and not because she wanted to withhold the information from him, per se. She’d simply been preoccupied with other things last night—mainly with him.

Telling him now, however, felt awkward, as if she had been once again keeping secrets .

“Hello?”

She owed him the truth.

“She tucked funds and, I believe, though I can’t be certain, my mother’s ruby into the trunk she packed for me.”

Caden launched upright, hoisting himself across the narrow divide to sit beside her.“What on earth? The one you pawned?”

She nodded.

“It can’t be. How would she come to have it? How would she even know you’d pawned the thing? It must be another stone. But even so, ruby’s are more costly than diamonds. None of this makes sense.” He slanted her a glance. “Unless you and she were in cahoots.”

Her cheeks heated. He doubted her. She couldn’t blame him.

“Caden, I’ve told you everything. No one could have been more stunned than me when she spoke Bolton’s name last night.”

He appeared to weigh her words, finally looking more intrigued than accusatory. “What, precisely, did she say?”

“She informed me she’d packed for me and said I must leave straight away lest I find myself departing with Baron Bolton. I questioned her, of course. How could I not? She’d never once let on she knew anything about my past, when in actuality she knew more than I did.”

He cocked his head. “How do you mean?”

“You’ll recall I thought I’d killed the man. Lady Wentworth seems to not only know of our…um…connection, she knew he was alive—when I thought him dead. Else why pack a valise for me to escape him before even I knew leaving was a necessity?”

He slung one arm across the upper cushion behind her and his gaze drifted over her. “Why indeed?”

Her skin prickled, her breasts tightened, and everything in her went hot. Kiss me. “Do you believe me?”

His eyes met hers. Seconds ticked by. “Yes. ”

A tentative smile curved her lips. “Thank you.”

“Anna, have you given any thought to what you’ll do once we reach Chissington Hall?”

The swift change of topic caught her off guard. “What I’ll do?”

He inclined his head in a fractional nod.

“I suppose I’ll…I was rather hoping I could stay in Derby for a day or two.”

Fire flashed in his eyes and his nostrils flared. “Stay in Derby?” he erupted.

Her stomach dropped to her toes. He didn’t want her there? Now she understood why he wasn’t broaching the subject of last night. It had meant nothing to him.

She forced her smile to remain in place. “I understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Rest assured, I’ll be off straight away.”

“Off? Are you mad? You’ll stay in Derby, by God.”

Relief turned her limbs to water. “I’m not sure what you’re asking, Caden.”

He shook his head, clearly exasperated. “I’m asking if you’ve any idea how to end your sham of a marriage. I would assume that’s the first order of the day for us.”

“For us?”

His cheeks went ruddy. “For you.”

She gave up trying to understand his quicksilver mood. “I suppose I must ask for an annulment, not that I know how, nor on what basis one might be attained.”

“As to how, I’m sure we can get the earl’s man, Hallis to submit the paperwork. Concerning the grounds…” he paused. “Unfortunately, I know of only one sure-fire way to achieve such an end.”

“What is it? ”

He lowered his eyes. “If one can show proof she’s never lain with her husband, one has grounds to contest the marriage’s legitimacy.”

Of course. Angelique had wanted to close that particular loophole. Hadn’t she commanded Bolton get the deed done? She shivered.

Beside her, Caden leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. “Thanks to last night, that option’s no longer viable.”

Last night. All morning she’d wanted him to broach the subject. Careful what you wish for, Gloriana , her father always said.

Words tumbled out of her mouth before she knew what she meant to say. “Do you regret it so much?”

He straightened slowly, his eyes wary. “Regret what?”

In for a penny …“Do you regret making love to me?”

His lids lowered to half mast. “Ah.”

Misery settled over her. The man was buying time rather than answer her. Never a good sign.

“Do you regret what happened, Anna?”

Answering a question with a question, now? She lifted her chin. “Oh, no, you don’t, Caden Thurgood. I asked you first.”