Love's Misadventure (The Mason Siblings Series Book 1) (15 page)

Lane inclined his head. “Indeed. I have no wish to meet your brother at dawn, for I fear I would lose. Charles can be rather…severe.”

Anna nodded her agreement. “More so since his return from war.”

They were silent for a moment, then Lane cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed there. Something about the moment compelled him to speak from his heart. “Anna, last night meant a great deal more to me than I can ever express. Our friendship has stood through the trials of time and of life, unwavering in its strength and endurance.” He took a deep, quavering breath as nerves clutched his stomach. He found purchase in Anna’s sky blue eyes. “Anna… I l—”

The door swung open and Charles entered. “The hack is awaiting us. I have had your horses sent back to the inn at which you acquired them, and my horse has been tethered to the rear of the hack.”

Lane surged to his feet.
Thunderation!
He had been about to confess his love for Anna, most ham-fistedly, in the dining room of an arbitrary inn. How foolish could a man be?

“Of course, Charles.” Lane turned his gaze on Anna, his trembling hand held out for her. “Shall we?”

Chapter 17

Anna’s heart thumped erratically in her chest. She placed her cold hand into Lane’s shaking palm, and he curved her fingers around his elbow.
What had just happened?
It had almost sounded as though he was about to tell her that he loved her! It couldn’t be… Could it?

But what if he did love her? Nervous excitement rippled through her abdomen. Would he profess his love when he next proposed marriage? Would he lower himself on bended knee among the cherry blossom trees and beg her to become his wife?

Oh heavens, she should not fantasize about such things! It might only serve to disappoint her.

She looked up at him as they followed Charles to their hack. Lane walked proudly, his spine erect and his square jaw set at the perfect angle. He was striking, beautiful both inside and out.

Anna wanted to make love to him again. She loved him, and she had every intention to accept his next proposal of marriage. Why not surprise him in his bedchamber one evening, or invite him for a tryst in her bedchamber? A blush stole its way up her neck to flame her cheeks. Goodness, she was being far too naughty.

The afternoon sun bathed them in a welcoming heat. Hopefully her brother took her blush as warmth from the weather.

“After you, Anna.” Lane helped her into the hack then followed, sitting beside her in the forward-facing seat. Charles entered behind them and sat facing them.

“Where is your friend, Charles?” Anna inquired.

“He has business to attend to. I will rendezvous with him in London.” He rapped on the ceiling with his fist, and they rolled into motion.

“How do you know him?” Anna persisted. “I do not recall seeing him before.”

“Nor I,” Lane added.

“I met him through an army friend.” Charles looked directly into her eyes and raised an eyebrow as if in challenge.

Charles was hiding something; Anna could sense it. “Very well. I will pretend that I believe you. For now. But do not think you are fooling me, Charles Ellesmere Bradley.”

Lane brayed, and Charles sent her a warning look. Anna raised one eyebrow in response, a laugh escaping her.

“Your middle name is Ellesmere?” Lane wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “I have known you from infancy. Tell me, how is it that I never knew your middle name?”

“Do shut up,” Charles grumbled, his face scrunched in a sour expression.

Anna had missed their familial camaraderie. “How have Mama and Papa been in my absence, Charles?”

“Frantic with worry. They will be vastly relieved to have you home.”

Anna gazed out the window at the hedgerows that passed by. “I will be pleased to see them, as well.” She sighed. “I do hope I have not shamed them too greatly.”

Charles frowned. “How the devil would you have shamed them?”

“With my ruination, of course!”

Fury blazed in Charles’ gaze. “I thought you had said that nothing untoward had occurred with those kidnappers!”

“That is not w—”

“At the risk of being pulled into a sibling spat,” Lane interjected, “I believe that what Anna is trying to say is that her absence and travel in the company of four men with no chaperone for four days would be cause for her ruination, and she did not wish to shame your parents.”

The anger visibly faded from Charles’ expression. “Oh. I see.” He nodded at Anna. “My apologies, Annabel.”

“Accepted, Charles.”

“As to the question of your ruination, you have nothing to fear in that regard.”

Anna’s brow furrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

Charles waved a hand through the air. “We informed your beau that you had come down with the headache on the first morning of your absence. After the first day, we informed those who would spread it around that you had received an urgent letter from our Grandmamma requesting your presence at her home in the North.”

“That’s positively brilliant!” Anna exclaimed in unison with Lane’s panicked “
What?
”

Profound relief swept through Anna. “Thank you, Charles.” She reached across the confined space to place a hand on her brother’s knee. “You have saved the family a great deal of grief.”

Charles shrugged. “It was what had to be done, Anna. I am simply grateful that we managed to find you. I confess, I was quite fearful for your safety.”

Anna smiled reassuringly. She had not realized quite how deeply their abduction had affected her until she had recounted the tale. Her emotions had entirely gotten away from her. She feared that her reaction might have given her brother further cause for concern. “I am perfectly fine, Charles. We are returning to London and shall resume our routine come the morrow.”

But it would not be the same. Not to Anna. Because she had given her maidenhead to Lane, she could not, in good conscience, allow Anthony to continue to court her. In fact, her hopes were quite altered in that respect.

She discretely slid her gaze toward Lane. He sat rigidly in his seat, staring out the window, his hands fisted in his lap. Perhaps his muscles ached; hers certainly did. She resisted the urge to reach over and hold his hand.

Anna turned to gaze out her own window, her eyes blind to the passing scenery.

She must arrange a meeting with Anthony—Lord Boxton—on the morrow. Would he be cross with her for not writing to him? Would he be terribly disappointed with her for ending their courtship?

Anna sighed, the heat from her breath fogging the window’s glass. She reached a hand up to draw a squiggle in the fog, holding back another sigh. It would not be a pleasant task, letting the Viscount down, but the outcome would be beneficial to all involved, she was certain.

* * *

Lane gazed sightlessly out the window as anxiety clutched his chest.
Annabel was not ruined in society.
Hell and blazes!

Would Anna return to Boxton and continue their courtship? Or would she throw him over for Lane? Surely she would break the courtship; Anna would not allow one man to bed her if she intended to wed another.

No matter what he assured himself of, part of him still feared the worst. He did not know what he would do without Anna in his life.

She shifted beside him, and a ripple of desire went through him.
Blazes,
that was decidedly not how he should react at the moment. Her brother was sitting across from them, for God’s sake.

Lane cleared his throat. “Charles, have you by chance heard any news from my staff or family?”

“Nothing particularly interesting. They merely mentioned that you were expected to be ‘out of town’ for an undisclosed amount of time. Your family has carried on in your absence. I have not seen any of them, though before I departed in my search, I heard that your mother and sisters had been keeping themselves busy with shopping excursions and teas with friends and acquaintances.” An odd expression that Lane could not recognize crossed Charles’ features, then was instantly gone.
Charles has become distinctly odd since his return from war
.

“Good.” Lane nodded in satisfaction. “I had not wished for them to worry. Especially Bridget; she has not been feeling well of late.”

Charles’ eyes sharpened. “Not well? Whyever not?”

“We are not positive as to the reasons behind her decline, but should it continue or affect her overall health, we will consult a physician.”

Charles’ frowned fiercely. “Why wait? Why not have a doctor come to see her right away? It seems careless, does it not?”

Lane matched the man’s frown with one of his own. “I do not think so. I believe what she is experiencing is more emotional than physical. She has become short-tempered and weeps very easily. The additional crying and melancholy gives her the headache; consequently, my staff, family, and I have been doing what we can to avoid a fit of tears.”

Charles sat back against the poorly padded seat cushion and gazed out the window, his jaw tight and his hands fisted. Charles and Bridget had been friends for nearly as long as Lane and Annabel, but since his return from war, he had distanced himself.

Every friendship had its periods of distance and connection, of course, just as his and Annabel’s had. It appeared, however, that something had occurred between Charles and Bridget that had caused their discord. It must have been sizeable for it to create such a large rift in what had previously been a very close bond.

Anna shifted beside him once more, stirring the heat in his blood.
Damn
, but he wished he could have this time to speak with Annabel privately. Should he beg her once more for her hand? Profess his love? Hell, he didn’t know. At the very least, he should arrange to speak with her father on the morrow to seek permission to court her.

Fields, trees, and shrubbery passed by the window in a blurry haze of green. The sun shone brightly in the sky as the carriage wheels trundled down the road, and the
clip clop
of horses’ hooves floated on the air. It would be a few short hours before they returned to London. He had best utilize that time preparing his speech for Mr. Bradley.

Chapter 18

Annabel was ready to weep with relief when the hack pulled up to the front of the Bradley town house. Night had long since fallen, and the windows glowed with warm, welcoming light.

Home!
She gazed longingly at the tall building, anticipating a long soak in a steaming bath filled with lemon zest, a hot cup of chocolate while her hair dried by the fire, and her favourite book. She nearly sighed.

A footman opened the door, a gust of cool night air rushing in and ruffling her yellow skirts. Charles leapt out then reached a hand in to assist Anna. Lane followed, and paid and thanked their driver. A groom untethered Charles’ horse from the rear of the hack and walked him toward the stables, but Lane called to him before he had gotten too far.

“Hold, if you please.” He looked questioningly at Charles. “I assume my gelding is being held in your stables?”

Charles nodded tersely, the sound of rattling wheels and clopping horses’ hooves cutting through the silence.

Lane turned back to the waiting groom. “Have my gelding saddled, if you would. I intend to ride him home.”

The groom bowed and did as he was bade.

“Thank you for protecting my sister, Lane.” Charles extended his hand, and Lane shook it.

“I was doing as any man would do for his friend.”

“It was more, and you know it.” Charles eyed him.

“This manly discussion is lovely,” Anna interjected, “but I would dearly love to get inside and begin soaking in a hot bath.”

An odd, arrested expression passed over Lane’s face as he stared back at Anna. Charles stood mutely.

“What has gotten into the both of you?” Anna put her hands. “No. Do not answer that question. I have had enough excitement. I am going inside.” She met Lane’s brown, piercing gaze. “Thank you for…everything. You saved my life on more than one occasion. You are wonderful.”

She rose up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek, his four days’ growth of beard tickling her lips. With one last smile, she turned on her heel and strode up the front steps and into her London home.

A rush of warmth greeted her as she entered. She was absurdly grateful for the silence. As much as she longed to see Mama and Papa, she could not abide another moment of answering questions.

“Welcome home, Miss Bradley.” Tim’s comforting voice echoed in the foyer.

She sent him a toothy grin. The poor man had been readying himself for bed; his livery was crooked, and he wore his nightcap over his grey hair. “Thank you, Tim. It is very good to see you again.”

“Shall I arrange for a meal and hot chocolate to be brought up to your bedchamber, miss?” The light from the foyer glinted off of his spectacles.

“You know precisely what to say to a woman, Tim.” Her smile grew. “Yes, please. And a hot bath, if you would.”

He bowed. “As you wish, Miss Bradley.”

Anna made her way up the stairs. She took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scents of her home. It was nearly enough to bring a tear to her eye.
My, but it feels good to be back!

* * *

Despite the dreadful ache in his body, Lane relished the feel of his horse beneath him as he rode toward his Mayfair home. He had missed riding Pegasus.

The warmth that the springtime sun had lent the air had all but gone, leaving a chill to the night. Lane needed the cool air, particularly after the way Anna had left him. It was commonplace for him and Anna to be familiar with one another, but part of him feared that Charles suspected something. Not only had her mention of bathing sent wild images of her naked, wet body through his mind, but her kiss had also heated his blood nearly to boiling.

Charles did not seem to take note of the maypole in Lane’s trousers, but he unquestionably perceived his internal reaction to Annabel, if his threat was any indication.