Sir Edward’s decision was made for him when they stopped at the Three Crowns. It was a respectable hostelry that occasionally had guests of the Quality, but the night was well advanced and the house small. When told that there was only one bedchamber available, Sir Edward decided that it was a sign from heaven that Annabelle should become Lady Loaming. He would have told her how lucky she was, but of course she had thought all along that the marriage was going to take place.
The sleepy landlord had set them up in the coffee room with cold meats, soup, trifle, and several bottles of quite drinkable burgundy. Sir Edward had drunk a bottle and a half of the wine, and his temper improved with every sip. The difficult part was over. Annabelle would not have been missed yet, and her brother might not even try to get her back after she had spent a night on the road with her lover. He wondered how large an annual income he might get from Kingsley. The nodcock deserved to pay for not mounting a better guard over his widgeon of a sister.
Sir Edward eyed Annabelle as she perched nervously on the edge of the oak settle. He preferred the riper charms of the Covent Garden ware that he usually frequented, but the girl was a comely wench, and would certainly do for the trip to Scotland and back. She had always responded to his kisses with enthusiasm if not skill, and upstairs the single bed waited.
“Come now, Annabelle, have some wine,” he said jovially. “You’ll feel better for it.”
Having put away substantial quantities of veal, chicken, and game pie, Sir Edward was ready for dessert. “Care for some of the trifle, my love?” he asked expansively. When she shook her head, he said with irritation, “For heaven’s sake, girl, stop moping! This should be the greatest night of your life, and you act as if you were at your own funeral.”
She looked up at that, but still said nothing. The baronet came over to sit by her on the settle and put an arm around her. “Give me a kiss, sweeting,” he coaxed.
Annabelle shrank back a little and said nervously, “I have a headache.”
He smiled toothily. “I have just the cure for that,” he said, and drew her into his arms.
Annabelle pushed him away as soon as she could. “But we’re not married yet!”
Sir Edward was getting seriously aroused and he brushed her protests aside. “What does a day or two matter? Tonight is the night I make you my own.” He proceeded with his kisses and his hand started fumbling at her bodice.
Near panic, Annabelle gasped, “But I feel most unwell. Really, I would rather go to my chamber and rest.” She had always found his embraces exciting, but this Edward seemed a stranger, his breath heavy with wine and his caresses impatient.
Sir Edward played his trump card. “Going to our chamber is a splendid idea. But you won’t get much rest, my dove. There was but one room left, and we will share it, as man and wife.” Ignoring her dismay, he smothered her protests with his mouth.
Annabelle struggled against Sir Edward with fading strength as he pulled her dress off one shoulder. She considered calling for help, but the innkeeper thought they were married, and she couldn’t face the brangles and humiliation that would result if she tried to explain that they were eloping. She had come too far to turn back.
Befuddled with wine and lust, Sir Edward did not hear the sounds of voices and steps in the hall until the door of the coffee room flew open, swinging hard to hit the wall with a bang. The baronet blinked up at the imposing figure standing in the doorway. He had no doubt who it was, the handsome blond man couldn’t be anyone but Annabelle’s brother. But Sir Edward hadn’t expected him to be so tall. In the dark caped driving coat, the man seemed wide as a bear, and twice as dangerous.
Lord Kingsley stepped into the room, Christa following and closing the door to give them privacy.
Annabelle was near to weeping with relief, while Sir Edward straightened up, feeling at a distinct disadvantage.
“Good evening, Belle. I assume that this is Sir Edward Loaming, my future brother-in-law,” Alex drawled as he stripped his driving gloves off.
“Exactly so,” the baronet blustered. “Does this mean you are giving me permission to marry your sister?”
“She will be free to marry whom she chooses in a few weeks. How about it, Belle, do you really want to marry this”—his eyes raked Sir Edward’s willowy elegance—“this man-milliner?”
Annabelle was too distraught to answer. The surge of relief she had felt when Alex entered was overpowering. Yet she was in love with Sir Edward. Wasn’t she? Haltingly, she asked, “You would not disapprove?”
“I have trouble imagining that I could everapproveof this shag bag, but if you want him, and he loves you enough to marry a dowerless girl, who am I to stand in the way?” Alex had taken the baronet’s measure in one glance, and he wanted Annabelle to know exactly what kind of man her suitor was.
Alex’s comment elicited a startled squawk from Sir Edward. “Dowerless? But everyone knows how wealthy the Kingsleys are!”
Alex’s smile was coldly amused. “Quite right. But unless you have a source at my man-of-business’s office, you can’t know how the money was left. My sister hasn’t a penny in her own right. Quite ramshackle of my father to leave my siblings wholly at my mercy, but doubtless he assumed I would be fair with them.”
Sir Edward’s jaw sagged open in horror. “But surely you wouldn’t turn your only sister out in her shift!”
Alex raised one eyebrow sardonically. “Of course not. She has a very considerable wardrobe. You won’t have to buy her anything for at least a year, though women’s fashions have been changing rapidly of late, don’t you think?”
Sir Edward ignored this sally. “But I’m drowning in the River Tick! If she marries me, she might starve. Or end up in debtors’ prison!”
“Not unless she chooses. My sister will always be welcome in my home. Butyouwon’t be. Cheer up. Annabelle can visit you in Marshalsea Prison. She’s a softhearted girl and will probably bring you baskets of table scraps. I imagine I will allow that when I am feeling charitable.”
Sir Edward looked at him with loathing. “You would see your sister’s name dragged through the mud? If it becomes known that she ran off with me, your whole family will be disgraced!”
Lord Kingsley’s wide smile was the most heartless the baronet had ever seen. “You overrate my family pride. As you probably know, I’m a crude sailor, hardly ever at home. What do I care about a parcel of gabble-mongers in London?”
Sir Edward was aghast, unable to believe what he had heard. “You mean you really don’tcarewhat anyone says?” At Lord Kingsley’s cool nod, he gurgled, “But what of the feelings of Annabelle and your younger brother?”
