The Wicked Wallflowers: Regency Boxed Set (Chronicles of a Bluestocking)

by Tammy Andresen

  She’d go to Kent first. Say goodbye to the land that she had known deep in her heart would never be hers. Then she’d have to purchase a small cottage in the nearest village. She had enough saved, hopefully. And what was the harm of walking to the beach each day? The exercise would be good for her.

  Tears stung at her eyes again. Luke didn’t want her. Not even for a little bit. Later, as she walked on the beach, she could reflect on what about her was unlovable. But now, she had to focus on the series of tasks that would help her to leave this place, the life that had fallen apart and begin the process of pulling herself back together.

  “Does she need some laudanum to sleep off her pain?” Luke asked, touching her arm.

  “I’m fine.” She winced under the cloth as shooting pain reverberated through her head. “I don’t want any medicine.”

  “I disagree,” the doctor said from her other side. “I think it would be a great help.”

  She shook her head, but Luke pressed on her shoulder. “Whatever she needs.”

  She appreciated his concern but was about to tell him to cease worrying about a woman he’d rejected. A woman who would be out of his life sooner rather than later.

  As Annabelle opened her mouth to say the words, a sweet drink laced with cinnamon was poured down her throat. Drat. She was powerless to stop them as she automatically swallowed to keep from choking. “I’ll be fine and out of your hair before you can blink.”

  The room stilled. “Isn’t she your wife?” the doctor asked.

  “Of course,” Luke answered. “She must be talking about you.”

  “Or she’s delusional. Keep a close eye on her. If she says strange things, call me again. The damage could be more extensive.” She heard the doctor click his bag closed. “I’ll check back in tomorrow unless you need me sooner.”

  “Thank you,” Luke said as the door closed. He slipped his hand into hers. “I’ve sent a missive to Chloe. I thought you’d want to see your friends.”

  “They don’t even know I’m here.” Her brain was heavy.

  “They do now,” he answered, giving her fingers a squeeze. “I must say, I’m not looking forward to facing them.”

  “Because you’re jilting me?” Why were her thoughts so jumbled? She hadn’t said the wedding was off, but he’d also proclaimed that they needed to separate. “I hate laudanum.”

  “I don’t blame you and I am not jilting you.” She felt his weight settle next to hers on the bed. “I’ll see you protected if it’s the last thing I do.”

  Oh yes, they were going to live apart. Married, but apart. “Such a silly idea, you living in one county and me in another.”

  “Why is that?” He gave her fingers another squeeze before he ran his hand up her arm.

  She tried to open her eyes, but they only made it part way. “Because…” She licked her lips. “You would never hurt me and—”

  “I already did.”

  “No, that was an accident.” She lifted her very heavy hand to touch his scar.

  He jerked his face away. “Technically, my scar was an accident as well.”

  If only her mind wasn’t so addled. “Your father was fueled by deep-seated insecurity, long-simmering anger, and drink. Are you intimidated by my intelligence or do you wish to protect and nurture it?”

  Silence was her only answer.

  Luke stared at Annabelle attempting to process what she’d just said. No, he didn’t resent her intelligence and yes, his father most certainly had hated his mother’s.

  Her eyes cracked into slits. “Also, and this is really important, you won’t hurt me because you don’t want to. You’ve made choices to live your life differently than he did, abstinence from alcohol, and I’m confident you’ll continue to choose the right path.”

  This time he couldn’t stay silent. Hope was slowly unfurling the tight ball of dread in his stomach. “Do you really think so?”

  She caressed his cheek before slipping her fingers from his face. “I wouldn’t love you so if you were that sort of man.”

  “Love?” He reached for the fingers that had settled on her own chest. His own heart thudded loudly. Did she really love him? “Annie?”

  She didn’t respond. Her breathing grew heavy and deep. He stroked the hair back from her face as he watched her features relax. He wanted to believe her. That he was a different man from his father and that would always be true. But part of him still worried that the beast was deep inside him waiting to come out. Just look what he’d done to her today. What if he did it again? What if he accidentally hurt their child?

  He shuddered and then rose from the bed.

  Just then a knock sounded at the door. “My lord, Lady Dryden and Lady Caroline are here to see you.”

  “Send them in,” he called, his gut clenching. He’d be less afraid of a firing squad.

  His worst fears were confirmed as the ladies entered. Chloe gasped and rushed to Annabelle’s side as Caroline grabbed the doorknob to support herself.

  “What happened?” Caroline asked.

  “Why is she here?” Chloe added.

  Caroline let go of the knob and her face pale as she came toward the bed. “And what about the wedding?”

  Luke’s insides sloshed. He knew Caroline had been ruined by a rake, he was sure she worried for her friend’s future.

  Chloe waved her hand. “Never mind about that. You said she fell. Has she not woken?”

  This one he could answer. “She has. The doctor gave her laudanum to help her sleep through the headache.”

  Both women sighed in relief. Then Chloe turned to Caroline. “Now you may ask about the wedding.”

  He didn’t need to hear the question again. “The wedding will happen as soon as she is able.”

  Chloe nodded but her brow was still crinkled. “And why was she here?”

  He drew in a long breath. “The interview with her father did not go all that well.”

  “Of course it didn’t.” Chloe waved her hand again. “But why didn’t you bring her to my house where she would have been properly chaperoned?”

  His gut tightened. “She didn’t want to. She wanted to stay with me.”

  “Says you.” Caroline pointed at him. “And she isn’t in a position to refute that, is she?”

  Firing squad. That’s what he wanted, right this very second. “I suppose she isn’t.”

  “She’s well and truly ruined,” Chloe said before covering her mouth with her hands. She dropped them again, her eyes boring into his. “And now she’s injured.”

  Guilt made his chin dip down to his chest as he studied the floor. “She isn’t. We’re getting married as soon as she is able.”

  Chloe stood, her hands on her hips. “I don’t like you.” She poked his chest. “I told her to stay away from you. Look what you’ve done.” She pointed at the bed.

  He closed his eyes. “You’re right, of course.” He hunched his shoulders. “I’ll marry her to protect her and then I’ll leave her be. I swear on my mother’s grave.”

  Chloe’s hands dropped to her sides as silence fell about the room. “Fin said that you intended to lead separate lives.”

  He shook his head. “Perhaps you can help her build her cottage. I was going to do it, but I don’t trust myself…” He stopped. He didn’t even think he’d stay long enough to produce an heir. The deed had either happened or it never would. He couldn’t risk he’d hurt her again. “As soon as she’s better, we’ll marry and then she can leave for Kent.”

  Then he turned on his heel and left Annie in her friends’ capable hands. She didn’t need him and the longer he looked at her the more his insides twisted.

  She’d said that she loved him. The words echoed about in his head. They both filled him with light and plummeted his soul into darkness. He loved her too…so much he ached with it. And that was why he’d let her go, because in the end that was best for her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Annabelle woke, blinking into the darkness. Her thro
at was parched, her limbs heavy, and her thoughts groggy. A soft snoring sounded next to her. “Luke?”

  A high pitch snort followed and then feet hitting the floor. “Annie?”

  “Chloe?” she asked, trying to open her eyes. “Where is Luke?” Her throat felt as though she’d swallowed several needles.

  “He isn’t here,” Chloe soothed and Annabelle heard her friend pour her a glass of water. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday morning.”

  “Yesterday morning?” Her voice broke on the words. “Tell me he isn’t still blaming himself.”

  “Still?” Chloe asked as she brought a glass to her lips, holding her head. “Wasn’t this his fault?”

  The water slid down her throat, soothing the ache. “Marksman came here accusing him of stealing his land and then began tossing about punches. I foolishly tried to step between them.” She lay her head back down.

  “What were you even doing here?” Annabelle didn’t miss the accusation in her friend’s voice.

  “We’re to marry today, Chloe. There didn’t seem to be much harm in a few extra days.” She attempted to rub her eyes, but her hands still felt weighted.

  Chloe sat down again. “But your reputation. He’s a known rake and ruiner of women.”

  “Chloe.” She was too tired to chastise. “He is the most honorable man I know. If one of us is wicked, it’s me.”

  Chloe fell silent and several minutes passed. “Are you hungry?”

  She wasn’t at all, but she should eat. “Some broth would be lovely.”

  Chloe stood. “I’ll get you some.”

  Annabelle closed her eyes as her head began to throb again. She wanted to speak with Luke, but she wasn’t certain how to do it. She didn’t think she could rise from the bed. Why wasn’t he here? He’d been by her side through all the other trials, but she knew why. He blamed himself for this one and he was staying away for her protection.

  Pushing herself to sitting, her head spun a bit and she took several deep breaths.

  Chloe returned with a steaming tea kettle. “Broth is coming,” she sang out, giving a bright smile.

  Annabelle rubbed her eyes. “Tea sounds delightful. You do not. What’s wrong with you?”

  Her friend looked away as she busied her hands pouring tea. “Nothing.”

  Chloe carried a cup over to Annabelle, holding it to her lips. Steam rose up into her nostrils, already breathing life into her body. She raised her hands to clasp the cup and took a tiny sip. The liquid soothed her throat and she took another swallow. Her head began to clear and her aches diminished, if only for a moment. “Out with it, Chloe. You’re fluttering about like a bird.”

  Chloe sat down in the chair, ringing her hands. “You know me so well.” Her friend stilled. “I told Lord Harding that he was terrible for you yesterday and that…” Chloe trailed off, her chin dropping to her chest.

  Annabelle didn’t need to hear more. She now understood why Luke wasn’t here. “Oh, Chloe.” She didn’t blame her friend, but she’d done real damage. “He’s already insecure that he doesn’t have the right temperament to be my husband.”

  “I know.” Chloe covered her face. “I discovered it very quickly. He looks so formidable. I made assumptions and—”

  “Fin looks formidable.” Annabelle cocked her head. “Did you make those assumptions about him?”

  “I suppose that I did.” Chloe nibbled her lip. “But that’s silly, isn’t it?” She stood. “We must write that warning in the book.”

  “Hang the book, Chloe.” Annabelle laid her head back down, already tiring. “My soon-to-be husband wishes to drop me at the coast and never see me again. I’ve only just discovered that I can’t live without him.”

  Chloe’s eyebrows rose. “Well then.” Seating herself once again, she continued. “We must determine how you’re going to convince him that he can’t live without you.”

  Her head fell back. “My powers of scheming are woefully compromised.”

  Chloe reached for her hand. “That’s all right. You’ll have help. Once I’ve fed you broth, you’re to take a nap, and I’ll rally the troops.”

  “Rally the troops?”

  “It’s a military phrase.” Chloe patted her hand as if that explained everything.

  “Have I ever told you, Chloe, that I think you’re divine? Annabelle closed her eyes even as Chloe gave her fingers a squeeze.

  “You’re divine too.” A knock sounded at the door. “There’s your broth. We can plot while you eat.”

  Annabelle, her eyes still closed, smiled. Just a small one. Luke wouldn’t know what hit him.

  Luke sat at his desk staring out at the garden below. A few errant buds decorated the branches but mostly it was still dormant from the long, cold winter. The sky was grey, which suited his mood.

  Today, provided his bride was well enough from the injuries he’d given her, he’d tie himself to a woman whom he planned never to see again.

  He ran his hands through his hair. That wasn’t entirely true. He’d have to attempt to make an heir, he just wasn’t certain how he’d go about it. But he did know that spending time with her was only going to make the situation worse. It would be better if he could just rip himself away.

  A knock sounded at his door. “Yes?”

  “It’s me,” a female voice called. For a moment, hope rose in his throat, making it tight. “Lady Dryden.”

  Of course, it wasn’t Annie. She was still in bed. Still suffering. “Come in,” he answered.

  She slid through the door, giving him a small smile as she threaded her fingers together. “Annabelle is awake this morning and eating. Plans for the wedding should be able to remain on schedule.”

  He lowered his brow. “You’re not going to attempt to stop the nuptials?”

  A blush rose in her cheeks. “I’d like to apologize for my comments yesterday. I made snap judgments about you mostly based on rumor and your appearance and—”

  He waved his hand. “Don’t. They are mostly true. I mean not the rumors but the sentiment behind them. I’m no good for Annabelle.”

  Chloe cocked her head to the side as she stepped closer. “Do you know Fin’s past?”

  “No.” He held the arm of his chair as he looked at Lady Dryden. Somehow, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what she was about to say.

  “He was an opium addict. Nearly succumbed to the drug.” She sat on the edge of his desk. “A cousin rescued him and helped him live without the substance, but he never intended to marry. He had this perception that real darkness lived inside him, the sort that would ruin me for certain.”

  Luke nearly choked, hearing his own thoughts articulated in such a way. Dryden was a serious man to be certain, but he lit from within whenever Chloe was around. Could the same happen for Luke?

  She set her hand on the desk, lightly tapping the surface with one finger as she leaned closer. “What he failed to consider was that I might help to bring him further away from that dark hole. That getting married, having a baby, would bring light and hope into the dark places.”

  He now gripped both arms of his chair and, despite the cool morning, sweat dotted his brow. “That’s different.”

  “Why?” Chloe stared at him, her eyes unwavering.

  He didn’t want to share this with another person, but the words seemed to slip from his lips. “Because his demon didn’t have anything to do with women or children. But mine…” His father abused his mother and him terribly. He couldn’t risk that he was cut from the same cloth.

  Chloe nodded. “Better to give up before you’ve even tried. Good thinking. That’s what real men do.”

  “Are you…” He relaxed his grip on his chair. “Are you insulting me?”

  She leaned across the desk, her face nearing his. “I believe that I am, yes? Does that bother you?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “It might but you’ve got a bloody good point.”

  She flashed him a large grin, her eyes dancing. “Very big of you to say.” T
hen she leaned away. “I’ve met some violent people in my day.” She began unbuttoning her gloves. “My aunt didn’t like any form of disagreement.” As she pulled her hand free, she pushed up her sleeve. Red welting marks crisscrossed the inside of her arm. He winced at the sight. “She would have never allowed me to speak to her like that. I’d have been punished for certain.”

  He seemed unable to help himself, as he reached across the desk and ran a finger over a scar, sympathy making his chest ache. “What kind of person does this to another in her care?”

  Chloe shook her head. “I’m still working it all out in my mind, but I can tell you one thing. Whatever kind it is, it isn’t you,” she said, her voice unwavering.

  He started to shake his head. She didn’t know him. Hardly at all.

  But she lifted her other hand to hold his extended one. “Whatever impressions I had, I created them from afar. Now, here, looking into your eyes, I see the man you really are. Annabelle has been lacking love. You’re in a position to give her what she really needs. Even more than your protection. Don’t you want to do that for her?”

  Bloody hell, this woman was good. “Dryden never stood a chance.”

  She winked, her features soft as her shoulders relaxed. “Neither do you, my lord. Neither do you.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Annabelle swayed on her feet. Her head only had a dull ache, but the aftereffects of the laudanum coupled with the lack of food made her woozy.

  Luke had barely said two words to her, but he seemed to sense that she needed him and he pulled her close even as the priest continued his very lengthy homily.

  Pressed against his side, her nausea receded. More than she needed words, she had craved this. Just touching him. She’d like to lay her head on his shoulder, but the other guests might find that odd.

  Not that there were many. Caroline stood next to Chloe and Fin. On the other side, Marksman openly stared at Caroline, clearly not paying attention to the priest at all. She had no idea how the man had gotten an invitation, but it was a question for later.