The valet bowed and, once I’d excused him, left my room. I sat down at the writing desk in the corner nearest the window and dipped the quill into the inkwell with a sigh. Penning a note to Annette should be a simple matter. All I needed to do was inform her of my return and request that she meet me in the drawing room.
Or would the library be better? The drawing room did hold the risk of interruption—or worse, an audience. Lady Paxton could be in there, or even Apsley or Lord Paxton’s youngest daughter. I did not mind their presence in normal circumstances, but apologizing would be difficult under watchful eyes, especially Apsley’s. I doubted he ever apologized to his sister for his antics.
I doubted Annette apologized either, but their sibling war was hardly my concern, and I did not wish for it to bungle my attempts at reconciliation.
Miss Apsley,
I paused, a smile tugging at my lips. A simple note was all I required, but I could not pass up the opportunity to tease her, could I? Perhaps it was foolish—I needed Annette’s good opinion if I were to have any chance of convincing her to marry me—but I crumbled the paper and began anew.
Annette,
I have returned, which I am sure thrills you beyond measure. Please meet me in the library at half past one so I might deliver my promised apology and end your torturous anticipation.
Yours,
EP
I reread the note, grinning widely until I reached the valediction.Yours.My hand had penned the word as a lark, but the longer I stared at it, the more my smile faded.Yours.Such a simple word, one I had never given much thought to. Until now.
Why did it feel as if it carried the weight of the heavens?
Because it did. With my intentions and plans for the future, the word meant so much more than it ever had. Upon marrying Annette, I would be hers and she mine. The idea filled me with anxiety, for being tethered to someone in such a way, having them reliant upon me, came with a pressure that I had not anticipated so soon in my life. I had already failed to protect Adda. What if I failed Annette as well?
As if to counteract every worry, my mind conjured images of holding Annette in my arms. Protecting her. Comforting her. From what, I did not know, but even this dream-like fantasy increased my pulse and created a blooming warmth in my chest. To have such a responsibility would be a blessing, not a burden.
But it would also direct me away from my goals. How was I to balance my responsibilities to a wife while also pursuing the resolutions so many needed? I couldn’t see a way to do both—Father had certainly never managed to care for Mother as he ought while pursuing his ventures—but I also couldn’t proceed without the funds from Lord Paxton.
What a predicament I had gotten myself into.
With a sigh, I sprinkled pounce over the paper and returned the excess to the pot before sealing the note with wax. It would not do to have a servant reading too much into my words, especially when they were written in jest.
Jest, I reminded myself again for good measure.
Now, how to go about delivering it without risking gossip.
I could slide it under her door, but what if she wasn’t in her chambers? Truthfully, I did not know which room in the family wing even belonged to her. Seeing no other option, I slipped from my room and requested the first maid I encountered to deliver it, ignoring the knowing shimmer in her eyes. Hopefully, I had not created another problem in my attempts to fix the one I’d already created. Annette would not take kindly to gossip about us.
Regardless, the matter was out of my hands now. I descended the staircase and, with the direction of the butler, found my way to the library. I had not taken time to explore the castle since arriving, and I set a goal to rectify that. Perhaps I could ask Annette to give me a tour. Any amount of time with her would surely aid me in winning her over.
I chuckled as I entered the library. Time with Annette rarely went as smoothly as I hoped. I was no more confident today that I could convince her into matrimony than I had been when Lord Paxton first made his offer.
“What are you laughing about?”
I halted, and my gaze wandered through the room until it found the source of the question. Apparently, my note had been unnecessary, because Annette sat near the fireplace, her feet free of shoes as they hung over the arm of her chair. Her skirts, bunched due to her position—a position certainly unbefitting a lady—did not cover her ankles and part of her calf. I’d seen a similar amount of her legs when she arrived in the barn this morning and fought to forget the image.
Difficult when she kept presenting herself this way. At least she wore stockings.
“Is something wrong, Lieutenant?” Her voice carried an air of smugness. Of challenge.
My eyes snapped to her face, and I struggled to keep them there. “No.”
“Really? Your expression suggests otherwise. Or do you always appear to have eaten, say, a salted tart?”
My lips twitched. “As I have only experienced a salty tart once in my lifetime, I’m afraid I cannot say if my expression often reflects it.”
She snapped the book she was holding closed but did not move her feet. “Then you will have to take my word for it. You seem to find something in this room as equally distasteful.”
She wiggled her feet, drawing my attention to them. I closed my eyes and clasped my hands behind my back.Focus, Edward. This cannot work if you allow your mind to wander.
