In name only, she promised herself.
She was a Greene: stubborn but loyal. She wouldn’t forfeit the connection to her brother, especially now, when Will was counting on her to be his advocate.
She looked down at the cotton printed day dress she’d chosen this morning. A simple, white high-waisted dress with intricate floral patterns sewn in black embroidery. She grinned. Well, not theonlything sewn onto the fabric.
She sighed. Her silent rebellion was hardly worth the effort now.
Guests were to arrive at any moment. For anengagement breakfast. Anna had refused any such idiotic expectation of a wedding breakfast. As soon as the wedding vows were said, she would force Jackson to ship her back to London, where she could continue her search for her brother.
Anna would have refused the breakfast as well, if only the Widows hadn’t stepped in and threatened her again with a proper engagement.
Her gaze returned to the house, to the curtains drawn in the southern window.
The duke can’t still be sleeping?Not when a houseful of people was imminent? More importantly, word of William could arrive at any moment. That was,ifthe duke ever planned to keep his word to share the information in the first place.
Twelve days the man had been holed up in his study, barely leaving the room for evening meals. As if the great Duke of Grandfellow were of such importance that he must be a ghost in his own home. No man wasthatimportant.
Anna slammed her book closed and stood. Shewouldhear the latest news of the investigation. If need be, she’d pry the slothful man from his four-poster bed.
As she marched down the flower-lined path from the gazebo into one of the topiary gardens, she mentally added one more trait to the Greene name, one she would harness with every ounce of her will—to not lose her brother, to not lose herself.
Determination.
Jackson had beenup most of the night, sending instructions to Roberts and the team and waiting for replies so he wouldn’t miss any missives that needed immediate direction. To no avail.Nothingof note to report. The missives may as well have been blank.
Of course, the special license had arrived without fail not ten hours after he’d arrived in the country twelve days ago, accompanied by a short note in Roberts’s hand that jeered:His holiness looks forward to his jaunt to the country.
If only counterfeiters were as easily led as the archbishop. A good thing Jackson had had the mind to pass on the tidbit about the wedding’s extension, an afterthought Jackson had sent along with his instructions in the wee hours right before dawn that first night in the country.
Too many hours awake last night. He’d do best to retire early tonight.
Tomorrow was his wedding day, after all.
He glanced at the clock and sighed at the late hour.
He’d slept far too long, without any real rest. The sleep deprivation messed with his mind, because he stared down at himself, the light from the fire flickering over his naked skin in golden hues and his mind fixating on the silliest of things.
The door opened.
Jackson called over his shoulder, “Stevens, come and tell me if my toe looks oddly shaped to you.” Feet were quite unsettling appendages.Why articulated toes? Why not flippers? Or claws?
Clipped footsteps across the rug. A slight breeze at his elbow.
“No odder than any other toe, I’d imagine,”shesaid.
Jackson wouldn’t acknowledge the “eegah” that escaped as he snatched the nearest article of clothing—a white linen shirt—that covered little more than his privates.
He whirled around, conscious of his bare arse. “Anna!” He flailed a moment with his other hand. How did one hold themselves when they’d been cornered and naked? “You shouldn’t charge into a man’s chambers without thought.”
“I hardlycharged.” Her eyes were bright, the soft, white day dress the perfect complement to the sardonic lift of her lips. “I didn’t even need to pick the lock.”
But she would have.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” she accused.
Of course he had been.It was easy to lie about one’s connection to the Home Office when one didn’t leave one’s study.
“What a ridiculous notion,” he said. Thank heavens, he had. Being in her presence without touching her was torture. To think she’d go so far as to beard the lion...in his chambers.
