“That’s right, love. Say my name. Come apart for me.”
The command was enough and she shuddered, gasping his name. He held on just to see her climax through before he broke, his fingers entwined with hers, her body cradled against his.
Mine.
The thought was primal, but for once, it didn’t feel out of place. He was hers and she was his, and everything was right with the world.
Chapter Thirty
After spending the remainder of the night at a coach house, posing as man and wife, they made the final leg of the journey to Kent. The closer they got, the more nervous Annabelle became. She fidgeted so much, he captured her hand with his own.
“If you’re scared of what Henry will say, don’t be.” He gave a brief smile. “Louisa will have taken him well in hand. If anything, he will be the one grovelling for your forgiveness.”
She gave a delicate snort. “Henry doesn’t grovel.”
“For Louisa, he might.” Jacob had no doubt that part of Henry’s dislike of him stemmed from the rumours that he and Louisa were lovers, and that, if nothing else, proved there were still lingering feelings between them. Add that to Louisa’s disquiet when she had discovered Henry was returning to London—well, the conclusion was plain.
Not that Jacob had any intention of involving himself in their business. They could conduct themselves as they pleased so long as it did not hurt Annabelle.
The Shrewsbury house came into view, and Annabelle’s grip on his hand tightened. “Did you write ahead to say we were coming?”
“No, but he knows I had every intention of coming back here once I found you.”
As they pulled around the fountain to the front door, the door opened and Henry stepped through. Even Jacob could appreciate the man was not at his best: his stance was all military bearing, but his eyes were bloodshot and his cravat was creased.
“Oh, he’s angry,” Annabelle whispered. “I knew he would be angry.”
“Peace, little bird. I shan’t let anything happen to you.”
“What about you?” She eyed the bruise on his cheek with more of that protective spirit he found so captivating. In all his life, no one had tried to take care of him. For all Louisa’s friendship, even her idea of care was submerging him in cold water. Necessary, he granted, but it was not nearly as appealing as Annabelle’s hot defence.
“If it devolves into fisticuffs, this time I will return the favour.” The carriage came to a halt and he squeezed her hand before letting her go. “I doubt that will happen, however. Your brother will almost certainly be eager to make amends.”
A footman opened the door, and Jacob descended first, nodding at Henry before turning to assist Annabelle. Thankfully, she looked perfectly presentable, and nothing about her appearance suggested he had taken her slowly in the dawn air that morning, his mouth on hers, her legs wrapped around him.
Henry released a shuddering breath at the sight of his sister. “Annabelle,” he said, with such heartfelt relief, her eyes filled with tears. “I thought for certain something terrible had happened to you.”
“Have some faith, brother,” she said, dashing one gloved finger under her eye. “I can take care of myself.”
Jacob resisted the urge to snort. Annabelle was many things, but she was not worldly wise, and he would not have wanted to know what might have happened to her if she had remained in that grimy inn.
Henry turned to him and gave a stiff bow. “Thank you for bringing her back. You have my gratitude.”
The temptation to make a quip almost overcame Jacob, but he merely managed to nod once, curtly. “With respect, I did not do it for you.”
Henry’s answering nod was equally short. “I know.”
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you were friends?” Annabelle piped up, looking between them both. Jacob did his best not to rear back, and Henry concealed the horror that crossed his face with a cough.
The first thing they had been united in.
Jacob took Annabelle’s hand and dropped a kiss on her knuckles. “You should really learn how to not push your luck,” he murmured, giving her a look through his lashes that made her blush. “We will learn to tolerate each other, but don’t ask for more.”
“Even for me?” she asked hopefully.
Jacob groaned and broke away. “I’ll make my way inside. Join me once you’ve had a chance to talk. You may tell him our news.” As he passed Henry, he said too low for Annabelle to hear, “She needs an apology, Eyresham. Don’t let her down.”
* * *
