Page 17 of The Viscount Needs a Wife (All for Love #2)

I am also giving into your safekeeping a ring that belonged, I am told, to my father.

I do not know his identity, only that I am his baseborn daughter and that he is a peer of the realm, of what degree I do not know.

My mother was Miss Janet Pringle. For most of my life I thought she was my aunt and that I was the daughter of her brother, Mr. Jeremiah Pringle, and his wife Adela.

They died when I was a baby, and I do not remember them.

It was only on her deathbed that I learned from my Aunt Janet that she was in fact my mother as well as the identity, such as it is, of my father.

Since her passing, I have been subjected to the most horrible persecution by a man of unknown identity seeking to obtain the ring and kill me. I had thought for a number of years that he had given up his persecution of me, but lately he has resurfaced.

I know this must sound raving, but I assure you he has attacked me before and has now threatened me again. I don’t know why my existence or that of the ring is worth such drastic action, but it is terrifying. I am tired of living in fear and must act now myself.

I am taking steps to eliminate the threat once and for all.

But it is essential that he not get his hands on the ring, for if he should do so, he will assuredly kill me.

Thus, I am leaving it in your possession, unbeknownst to you.

I do not anticipate you will find either it or this letter before I execute my plan.

In the event that I am successful, you will never know of it or of this letter, for I shall take them both back and destroy the letter.

But in the event that I am not successful, I wish you to know that I treasured your kisses.

You are the kindest, most attractive man I have ever known, and I hold you in the highest esteem.

I recommend that you destroy the ring and tell no one about any of this, for I truly do not wish for you or your delightful children to be placed at risk. I honestly think the risk will die with me, because it seems clear to me now that my existence is the true threat this man wishes to eliminate.

I remain ever yours,

Annis Benedicta Pringle

She read over the letter carefully, sanded it dry, folded it, and placed it and the ring from around her neck in an envelope upon which she had written his name.

She folded it in half and, clutching it in her hand, buried it in the folds of her skirt.

She then opened her door and checked the hallway.

Seeing it empty, she closed and locked her door behind her.

She then walked rapidly to the servants’ stairs and, slipping through the door, made her way to the floor below, where the viscount’s suite was located. She emerged in his dressing room, checking carefully first for the presence of his valet, who was mercifully absent.

It took her a few minutes to select an appropriate hiding place for her little package, but finally she chose the pocket of a quite resplendent evening jacket, which she had never seen him wear and thought he was highly unlikely to wear in the next forty-eight hours.

It was the sort of thing he might wear to a ball, being made of black satin, and there were a pair of matching breeches.

Satisfied that this was a very unlikely item of clothing to be called into service between now and midnight tomorrow night, she slipped her package into the breast pocket, closed the wardrobe door carefully and slipped back into the servants’ stairs and made her way back to her room.

She had merely to get through the next twenty-four hours as if nothing were wrong. A feat that would call upon all of her acting skills. But having made up her mind to her course of action, she was remarkably calm and focused. She was even, to her surprise, able to sleep soundly.

The next morning Annis spent with her pupils, and since the weather was for the first time in days inclement, the children were forced to remain indoors and play games in the nursery, supervised by Mrs. Green.

This freed Annis to spend the afternoon putting her affairs in order, not that she had a lot to do. She owned very little, but she did want her room to be tidy and her few possessions in good order in the event that the worst should happen.

Just before tea, she popped into the nursery to watch the children wistfully.

If this is the last I will see of them.

.. She swallowed a lump in her throat and was forced to clear it hastily when Miss Elizabeth bowled up to her and demanded her opinion of her latest artwork.

Not to be outdone, Miss Charlotte wished to show her a sculpture she was making in clay, and she found herself on the floor with the two of them providing artistic advice when the viscount appeared above them.

“Papa!” squealed both girls, flinging themselves at him. He didn’t seem to mind this assault, not even the fact that his clothes were threatened with red paint and wet clay. Hugging both little ladies in turn he got down on the floor, too, and offered his opinion of their artistic efforts.

“Don’t you think he is a little lopsided?” he asked Charlotte of her sculpture.

“He is supposed to be, Papa! He’s a monster. See he has a hunchback and uneven legs.”

“Oh, I see, and what is this that he is chasing?” he said, pointing to the second figure.

“A little girl, of course!” she replied, rolling her eyes.

He glanced at Annis, the smile in his eyes inviting her to share the joke.

She smiled in return, relieved that the children seemed to be providing a bridge to cover any awkwardness they might feel after their encounter in the rose garden.

She was glad. She would prefer that their last interaction, should it turn out to be so, not be attended by unpleasant feelings.

“Do you like my sunflowers, Papa?” asked Elizabeth claiming his attention.

“I do,” he said.

“This is you and Miss Pringle,” she added, pointing to the two figures standing among the sunflowers, apparently holding hands.

Annis flushed when he raised his eyebrows at this, and she thought crossly, s o much for no awkwardness.

“At first I was going to make it Mama, but then I thought it was better if I made it Miss Pringle, because she is here, and Mama isn’t.” Elizabeth’s mouth turned down and Annis’s heart contracted. Gosh, if anything happens to me, the children will miss me. I didn’t think of that...

The viscount cleared his throat and seemed to be groping for another topic of conversation when the welcome interruption of afternoon tea being served saved the situation. Leaving the children to their afternoon feast, she left the nursery with his lordship.

She should leave him, as well, but found herself completely unable to do so, walking with him to the stairs down to the next floor and the next.

If she had been thinking about it, she might have assumed he was heading to the drawing room where she anticipated afternoon tea for the adults was being served.

But she wasn’t thinking much except that she wanted to remain in his company as long as possible.

And when they reached a door on the first floor, he pushed it open, holding it for her.

It was the library, she registered stupidly. Her heart accelerated when she realized he had shut the door and was moving toward her. Oh, no! He is going to kiss me again!

I should stop him, but . . . if this is my last opportunity . . .

He stopped before her and his eyes told her everything she needed to know about his intentions. They positively smoldered.

“Miss Pringle—Annis! I have been wholly unable to stop thinking of you since yesterday.”

She gasped as he put his arm round her. “I know this is wretchedly unfair of me,” he said thickly, “but I cannot resist you!” He pulled her tight against him and kissed her.

It was a rough, devouring kiss that completely decimated any defense she might have tried to raise.

In any case, this was perhaps her last chance to experience the delight of his embrace.

She surrendered, returning his kisses with fervid ones of her own, parting her lips for him and even using her tongue to taste and devour him as much as he was her.

She molded her body to his in wanton abandon, feeling the heat and hardness of him through the layers of their clothing, tingling wet heat gathering between her thighs.

Her arms crept round his neck, her fingers pushing into his long hair, cupping his scalp, her breasts squashed flat against his chest. He was wearing more clothes than usual today, including a jacket and neckcloth, to her regret.

“Annis,” he murmured, breaking the kiss, his breath hot and rapid in her face as he leaned his forehead against hers. “Annis, will you marry me?”

Her eyes widened in shock, her heart turning over in her breast. She pulled back and stared at him, bereft of speech.

“The children already love you, I can tell, and they need a mother. A nanny alone won’t do.

I think you’re fond of them, could love them in time?

Hm?” He nuzzled her cheek with his nose.

“And God help me, but I want you. I don’t understand it.

There has been no one but Caro for me for over ten years, and suddenly you’re all I can think about. ”

Oh, God! Her heart clenched with anguish. How can this be happening? She could never marry him. Even if he never found out she was baseborn, she was still only a governess and no fit bride for a viscount. And with what I plan to do tonight...

Tears, never very far from the surface, stung her lids and she swallowed with difficulty.

“I cannot, my lord! I’m so sorry!” She tore herself from his embrace and fled the room, racing up two flights of stairs as if the hounds of hell were after her.

Reaching her room, she unlocked the door with shaking hands, barely able to see through her tears.

Getting the door open she flung herself through it, then slammed it and locked it.

Leaning against it, she slid slowly to the floor sobbing.

*

Emrys, left standing in the library alone, suppressed the urge to go after her, they couldn’t have an argument in the middle of the hallway or stairs.

He had taken her by surprise. Hell, I surprised myself!

He had not intended to propose marriage—the words had just burst from him.

With her unbridled response to his kisses, he had lost all sense, and suddenly it had seemed the perfect solution to all his woes.

The children did need a mother, and a nanny alone would not do. And she was perfect for the role. It was obvious the children loved her, and she was fond of them at the very least. And in his fevered state, he thought he would do anything to have her.

He had not expected her to refuse him. Her physical response told him she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He acquitted her of fakery in that regard. Annis Pringle was no seductress. Her emotional responses were pure and without artifice, he would swear to it.

She was no young miss either, but a mature woman.

A virtuous one all the same, he’d stake his balls on that.

For all her honest passion, she was not experienced, he was certain.

Something in the way she had hesitated yesterday told him she was not accustomed to kisses.

She was no flirt, no coquette. She dressed plainly with no adornment, her dresses so modest they drove him mad wondering what was underneath.

I did surprise her , he reiterated to himself. He would give her time to consider all the benefits of his proposal. Then I will ask again, for her refusal has done nothing to assuage my longing for her. In fact, it’s made it worse.