It was all-encompassing.
His hand found my waist and gently pressed me against the brick wall. The other found its way to my neck, and his thumb caressed my skin, sending a pleasant shiver through my body. I wrapped my arms behind his neck, pulling him closer still. His cologne engulfed me. I wanted more—more kisses, morehim.
My heart jolted at the thought, and I pushed him away with all the force I could muster. No, no, no! How could I have allowed this to happen? I had promised myself I would die a happy spinster. I would not allow anyone to steal my independence. There were too many risks to marriage—risks I had no intention of ever accepting. I had seen the consequences. I did not want them.
“No.” The word came out breathy and weak, as if to betray how little my body wished to comply.
Lieutenant Paget blinked, momentarily dazed. He took me in, and his expression shifted to one of remorse. “Annette—”
“Our agreement is at an end,” I said, an embarrassing shakiness in my voice, then shuffled around him. I needed to leave, needed to get as far away from this man as possible until my confusion settled.
No, not until—forever. This was the last time I would ever see him.
A hand caught me by the wrist and tugged me to a stop. I spun around, ready to snap at him for grabbing me, but his surprisingly tender expression chased my frustration away.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “I should not have…please don’t go. Stay. In London, I mean. I need you.”
I need you.Those words, those wretched wretched words! Why did they burrow through my walls so easily? Why did some part of me want to be needed by this man? Surely the feeling would flee the moment we parted—it had to. I did not want this.
“I cannot stay.” My voice choked. “My father’s condition has worsened. He wishes to return home.”
Understanding dawned on his features, and he released me. “Annette, if I had known—”
“I should have told you from the start. It is not your fault. We could have avoided all of…this.” I backed away from him, my heart still beating the rhythm of a war drum, the pull toward him achingly tangible. “Goodbye, Lieutenant.”
Tears clouded my vision. I whipped around and, lifting my skirts, rushed to the entry of the alley, away from the shadows.
Away from what should have been the biggest regret of my life.
Chapter one
Edward
Four Months Later
Despiteitspleasantname,The Nightingale was not the best establishment in Town to visit with its less-than-trustworthy patrons and undeniably foul stench. I could not be certain whether the smell came from those about the room lacking hygiene or from the food produced by the kitchen. Likely both. Either way, the handkerchief pressed against my nose did little to protect me.
I meandered through the room until I found an empty table. Several sets of eyes rested on me as I sat down. I could hardly blame them. Never mind the handkerchief. With my tailored clothes and starched cravat, I stood out here.
Ironic, really. I felt as though I did not fit in with the upper class, despite my fine clothing, but neither did I belong with those who currently surrounded me. Years at sea could do that to a man—leave him feeling as wayward as the tossing waves. I was, at present, a ship without a harbor.
A maid with a loose-knotted coiffure and a freckled nose approached, eyeing me with the sort of curiosity I wished I could avoid. “Afternoon, sir. Will ye be taking a meal today?”
I lowered the handkerchief. “No, I thank you.” I didn’t trust anything cooked within these walls to go into my stomach.
Her brows puckered. “Ye sure?”
“Yes, ma’am. I am simply meeting someone here.”
The woman scoffed lightly as she walked away, undoubtedly offended by my unwillingness to spend coin, but saving her pride was not worth the inevitable stomachache I would receive.
Half an hour passed, and my patience wore thin. The longer it took me to gain the information I needed, the colder the trail became. Perhaps I ought to leave now and continue my search elsewhere.
But no, I could not leave yet. None of my other leads had gone anywhere fruitful. This meeting was, unfortunately, my last chance. If Cratchit didn’t show…
I scrubbed a hand over my face.Think positive, for her sake.
After another quarter hour and dozens of scowls from the maid, my hope deteriorated. I stood to leave, but before I could take a single step, the door of the establishment swung open. Mortimer Cratchit entered, his wavy light hair as disheveled as it had been at sea and his clothes just as travel-worn. The scrawny seaman’s eyes roamed the room until they settled on me, and his throat bobbed with a swallow.
