Tabs sniffed. “Graham?”
I cleared my throat, swallowing hard, and forced myself to take a half step back from the wall, my eyes never leaving Anna’s.
“I’m coming,” I called to the darkness. “Get back in your bed.”
Somehow, by the grace and goodness of the Almighty, I heard the rustling of her blankets as she plopped back down on her bed.
Anna sidestepped. “Heavens, I forgot where we were. I should not have—I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“I’m not. Not at all.” I needed to say somethingright, something perfect to get her to stay.
“I lost myself for a moment.” She retreated a few steps, fingers touching her swollen lips.
I moved to follow her, palms raised in surrender, mind whirling. She’d kissed me. She’dkissedme, and nothing else in the world mattered. “We should have lost ourselves ages ago.”
She placed a hand on the wall, retreated another step.
Wait,I silently begged her.Don’t run.
Her eyes were full of the same fear I felt, like a cornered rabbit, its only options to run or be caught in a net. But hers was a net I desperately wanted to be caught in.
Cautiously, I took a half step nearer. Just close enough to reach out and graze my fingers along her jaw. “Don’t leave me.”
She lifted a hand to hold my wrist, neither pushing me away nor pulling me close, just holding me there. “You are just saying this to please me. My father, your investment—”
“I do not want the investment.” I shook my head, struckwith how freeing a string of words could feel, suddenly desperate. “You have the power to tell me no. Your father gave it to you. Anna, tell me not to invest in Brighton, and I’ll prove it to you.”
I moved closer, wrapping my other arm around her waist. “I love you,” I whispered again. “I want nothing more than to be tied to you.”
She raised her chin, looking up at me. “Just me?”
I took her lips with mine. “Only you.”
She laughed against my kiss. “Very well, then. You cannot have your investment.”
“Balderdash.” I feigned a disappointed groan, nuzzling into her neck. “How about a trade? I’ll have you, instead.”
Tabs started to cry. “Graham!”
Slowly, Anna traced her hands down my chest. “Go. We’ll speak more tomorrow,” she whispered, then pressed her lips to mine.
“Tomorrow, then,” I said as she turned in a flash, a flurry of skirts past Tabs’s room, then closed the door to her own.
ChapterTwenty-Nine
Graham
The next morning, Anna’s door remained closed as I descended the stairs and stepped out into the dewy dawn. I’d slept all I could, anxious for Mr. Lane’s return this afternoon and for Anna to wake so our conversation from last night could continue. I felt alive with hope and possibility, somehow wide awake despite the little sleep I’d managed.
I fed the cow and the cat, then delivered milk to Cook. I met Roland at the front of Highcliffe House with a ready horse and set off on my search.
I was well into the outskirts of Brighton before I found a patch of wild poppies. But she would love them. And how desperately, how completely I loved her.
I tied them with a ribbon I’d taken from Ginny’s box of notions, wrapped the small bouquet loosely in paper, then secured them in my saddlebag. I’d arrange a tray with all her favorites—a plate of biscuits with jam and a cup of warm tea—alongside the flowers, and have Mariah bring it to her when she awoke.
I urged my horse homeward in a gallop, slowing only when Highcliffe House came into view. A carriage waited inmy drive. Was Mr. Lane here early? I gripped the reins and kicked the horse’s side. Drat it all. Anna deserved more warning than this. She would be as anxious to confront him as I.
I’d support Anna while she mended things with her father. Then I’d tell him that we could no longer invest as partners, that I was sorry I’d wasted his time but the Brighton investment I’d proposed was off the table. But, most terrifying, I would tell him that I loved his daughter and wanted to ask him for her hand.
