She was halfway to the sofa before she seemed to notice he had not followed her from the doorway. She turned to face him, her wispy brows furrowed.
“What the hell did you think you were doing?” he asked in a low voice.
Chapter 30
“Ibeg your pardon?” Annabelle asked.
Sterling moved in close, his superior height causing her to tilt her head back to keep his face in sight.
Outside, the sun had nearly sunk, and the grate had not yet been tended, leaving only a few meager candles to light the space. Long shadows shrouded the chamber and the man. Still, she could not miss the hard set to his face.
“You went out with my sister. Alone. On foot. You didn’t bother to tell anyone where you were going…”
That was not precisely true, but she did not think now was a good time to comment.
“…have you forgotten the armed robbers who accosted you days ago? Have you forgotten Lucy’s fate?”
“B-but you said you thought the man responsible was gone.” She hated that she’d stammered. That she’d shown weakness in the face of this…this…She couldn’t precisely say whatthiswas.
Only that he was angry. And why? Because she’d endangered Caroline?
Yes. That’s what he’d said. She’d gone out withhis sister.
The bubble of joy Annabelle had floated in since the morning of her wedding abruptly burst. Pain, swift, devastating, and unforeseen, shafted through her and marked her as a fool.
She should have seen this coming. No, shehadseen this coming. She knew the extent to which people could be trusted—not as far as you could throw them.
They got you where they wanted you, hanging on the threads of their affections, taking what they wanted, and then dropped you like a hot coal, laughing as you hit the earth.
She’d known this. And yet she had not been at all prepared.Fool.
“I said it waslikelyhim. What if it wasn’t? What if we do not have the first clue as to why she was killed? What if you brought more trouble on yourself—and by extension, as my wife— me and mine?”
Me and mine,he’d said.Me and mine.Was she included in that grouping? It would seem not.
She lifted her chin and ordered herself not to cry. Crying did no good. Crying afforded the weak no respite. If anything, it only brought on more punishment.
“You never said we were not to leave the manse. Are we prisoners, then? Or is it just that you wish Lady Caroline to have an armed escort and neglected to mention it to me?”
“Lady Caroline,” he muttered and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Did you hear nothing I said? Are you being deliberately daft?”
“I heard you perfectly well,” she snapped. “There is nothing wrong with my hearingormy brain. Now, if you’ve quite finished…” She sidestepped him, intending to sweep from the room.
With the agility of a cat, he blocked her egress. Then he grasped both her shoulders. His palms were hot, searing her skin through the puffed caps of her long-sleeved gown.
“Where were you? Where did you go? Why not take a horse, Annabelle?”
She blinked. Something in his expression, a gruffness in his tone she couldn’t interpret, tempted her to soften toward him. To admit to him, considering all his many kindnesses toward her, she’d only wanted to do something for him.
With all her might, she stifled the urge. He would only use her admission as a weapon against her a second time.
“I wanted to walk. I meant no harm. Next time, I’ll go alone withoutyour sister.Does that suit you better?”
His expression grew stony. “No. To date, on Holy Island, trouble seems to find you like a powerful magnet drawing steel shards. Hear me, Annabelle. Until we return to London, if you wish to take a walk, you will do so with me, or in the company of Chip or Mr. Cogsworth.”
Confusion warred with her anger and hurt. Had he been worried for her welfare, after all? If so, then why hadn’t he simply led with that?
“And…what of Lady Caroline?” she asked in a small voice that betrayed the hope within her.
