“He’s drawn up a document to annul our marriage.” She yanked them back.
“Well o’ course he has.” Janie fisted her hips. “Arty always keeps his word.” She took one look at Annabelle and pursed her lips. “Quite the pair you are.” She tsked. “Looks like you’ve a choice t’ make, Mrs. Harris, one yer husband’ll not make for yer.”
“But he already has.” Annabelle roughly fluffed her pillow, then punched the thing outright. “I’m to sign his blasted document so he can send me away, so you and he and everyone here can go on living as though I never existed.”
“You think he’d forget you that fast?” Janie’s brow rose. “Why, he’s been moonin’ about th’ place e’er since y’ took yer own room. He’s sweet on you, ma’am, only he knows he ain’t good enough fer yer kind.”
“Of course he is good enough!” Annabelle was outraged. “Arthur Harris is the most generous, kindhearted man I know.”
“You talkin’ ’bout the same man as dragged yer t’ Gretna an’ slit Finch’s throat?”
“But that was—he did those things to protect me. Everythinghe did was?—”
“I’m chaffin’ yer.” Janie grinned. “Arty’s a gem.”
“Then why say he is not good enough for me?”
“’Cause he’s not titled—a whoreson same as Jasper. Only Arty’s no striver like yer sister’s fancy Baron. He sticks to his own, meanin’ he’ll ne’er be yer equal in name.”
“WellIam no striver either,” Annabelle insisted.
Janie’s lips twitched. “If y’ want Arty as yer husband, ma’am, you’ll have t’ be more direct, ’cause he thinks he can’t have you. Don’t mean he don’t want you.”
“But I’vebeendirect. I’ve?—”
“Just bed the man, Bella, an’ then he’ll have t’ stay married.” She smirked. “An’ do it afore them papers need signed. In fact, why not skip on o’er to ’is room right now?”
Annabelle thought Janie insane.
Until she did not.
Harris was roused by a tickle, as if a flea had got under his sheet. He reached to scratch the itch but was met with supple skin instead.
Had he been so rumdum last night he’d invited a chit to his bed? ’Twas true he’d tipped the brandy, but he’d stayed true to his bloody wedding vows this entire time.
He rolled and planted his face into a bosom that smelled divine. The plush, pillowy breasts reminded him of Bella the night he’d first educated the miss. Harris sampled one bud in his state of half-sleep and groaned. He climbed atop the inviting body, yet in place of give felt limbs stiffen, making him scramble off so fast he?—
“Arthur, stop running from me, please! I wish to consummate our marriage, and I do not want to sign that awful document!”
Bella’s face swam into focus as Harris froze, braced for flight beside his wife. He could not tear his eyes from her.
“I have tried to tell you, but you would not listen, or you chose not to hear, and I simply cannot bear the thought of never knowing your true feelings.” She gulped. “If you do not want me for your wife, Arthur Harris, I will sign what I must and pester you no more. Only I think you the most wonderful, dear, generous man ever to?—”
He kissed her in desperation, with a need so intense it overpowered his heart and loins. There’d be no leaving this bed or escaping his arms, not when body and brain had found union at last.
He’d make Mrs. Harris his wife for good this time. At last.
“Jasp, y’ ought t’ speak with ’er.”
Gerald’s continued needling grated. It was late and Milton wanted his bed. His butler could go to hell.
“Gerald, if you continue to provoke me I’ll?—”
“What? Fire me an’ half th’ staff? Hire bloody strangers who’ll care even less fer yer miserable self? Because I warn you, Jasper Audrey, our patience is growin’ thin, an’ yer wife sure as shite don’t deserve such treatment either. If y’ mean t’ lose ’er fer good, boy, you’re doin’ a damn fine job of it.”
Incensed by his butler’s words, Milton reached for the nearest object to fling but instead crushed the thin glass in his grip.“Fuck!”He stared at the shattered mess of lamp dome on the floor, blood dripping from his hand.
Gerald snapped open a kerchief and neatly wrapped it around Milton’s bleeding palm. “Soddin’ idiot,” he clucked like a surly hen. “You’re an arse, Jasp, an’ need more’n a few rounds inth’ ring t’ knock sense back into yer dull skull. Bustin’ things like a boy…”
