“May I come in, my lady?” he asked, bowing to her in an overblown fashion. “I swear I come bearing apologies.”
Was he in his cups? “You don’t owe me any apology, David.”
“Yes, I do!” He announced loudly, bowing to her once again. Annabelle quickly decided it would behoove her to let him in before he caused such a commotion in the corridor that other guests began peeking out to see what was the matter. It would not do for them to be seen together like this.
She darted her head into the corridor to ensure no one was watching before she grabbed his wrist and tugged him inside.
She closed the door behind him. “Shh,” she admonished.
He bowed again, and lowered his voice. “Would you care for a drink?”
“No.” She shook her head.
“Neither would I.” A grin spread across his face.
She had to smile. He’d clearly had a drink too many, but he was being entertaining, slightly silly, not angry. That was…different.
“First, I would like to apologize for frightening you last night,” he said, bowing a third time.
She nodded. “David, you don’t—”
“Second, I want to ask you a question,” he said, interrupting her and pointing his finger in the air again.
She eyed him warily. A question. That sounded ominous. She didn’t want this to end in another argument. “What question?”
“Has…my apologies, my lady, but there’s no easy way to say this. Has anyone ever struck you before?”
The blood drained from Annabelle’s face. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt. How did he know? Did David know the terror she’d lived in as a child? Was it obvious? Or had he simply guessed because of her reaction last night?
“I don’t know what you mean,” she insisted, shaking her head, and glancing down at her bare feet. She needed to get him out of her bedchamber as quickly as possible.
He narrowed his eyes on her. “I think you do. I’m asking if anyone has ever struck you. A man, I mean.”
Swallowing the huge lump in her throat, she shook her head but couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “No. No one.” But evenshedidn’t believe herself. Her voice had cracked. Oh, God. She was the worst kind of coward. She couldn’t even tell the truth when faced with someone who’d guessed her past.
David turned away from her and cursed under his breath. His voice was low, nearly a whisper. “Youstillwon’t open up to me. After all this time.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she breathed. She had to get him out of here. He might not be violent or angry, but the drinking was making him far too honest. He was asking too many questions she had no intention of answering.
Reminding herself that it was better for David if she sent him away, she made her way to the door and opened it a crack. “Please leave,” she said, pointing into the corridor.
David’s jaw went rock hard. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to talk about this.” She clenched her jaw and stared at the wall, still unable to meet his gaze.
“Is it the reason why you won’t marry?” he asked. Sadness and regret sounded in his tone.
Annabelle expelled her breath and hung her head. She couldn’t take this. She couldn’t take his pity and she couldn’t answer his questions. Shewouldn’tanswer them. She wrenched the door open wide. “Please leave.” But this time it was more of a plea.
Hurt and rejection flickered across his drawn face as David strode past her directly into the corridor.
“Oh, dear,” a lady’s voice sounded.
Fear gripped Annabelle tightly as her gaze swung into the hall to see Lady Elspeth and her mother standing not two paces from David. He’d obviously nearly run into them.
Lady Elspeth’s mother’s eyes were wide as carriage wheels when she saw Annabelle standing in the doorway in her night rail.
“Oh, my goodness!” Lady Elspeth cried, glancing back and forth between David and Annabelle, just before she swooned into a dead faint.
