Cocky Mister: A Regency Cocky Gents Book

by Annabelle Anders

  “You never answered me earlier.” She linked her arm through his. “About what we are going to do once we arrive in London.”

  Stone stroked his chin. “First off, I’ll need a shave.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Unless you prefer the beard.”

  He’d discovered she was not averse to a little… friction.

  “I like you both ways,” she answered quickly, rolling her eyes. “I mean after that.”

  Ah, so she wasn’t going to let him off so easily this time.

  “If we haven’t met up with your brother by then, we’ll meet with him and your mother.”

  “And then?”

  “We’ll tell my parents.”

  “Do you think they’ll approve?”

  “They’ll be thrilled.” His mother would be ecstatic.

  “And where will we live?”

  “Would you prefer the city or the country?”

  She hugged his arm. “It doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with you.”

  Would that be her answer if she knew the truth? “Tabetha…” He needed to tell her before digging himself into an even deeper hole. “You’ve wanted to be in London for as long as I’ve known you.”

  It wasn’t much, but it was the truth.

  “What if I was wrong?” she asked. “What if I changed my mind?”

  “We won’t know that until your memory returns.” The perfect excuse presented itself. “I don’t want to make any decisions until then.” Because everything was going to change. A person didn’t throw off dreams they’d nurtured all their life that easily.

  Even if he couldn’t provide her with a title, he had more than enough funds to provide a fashionable Mayfair townhouse for her to live in. He only hoped she allowed him to live there with her.

  Chapter 23

  Dreaming Together

  “What if I never remember?” Tabetha persisted, injecting a forlorn tone into her voice. Of course, delaying decisions regarding their future until after her memory returned gave him the perfect excuse to avoid answering her questions.

  “We won’t worry about that unless we have to.” He patted her hand, not in a condescending way, but as though he truly cared about her worries.

  She snuggled beside him and rested her head against his shoulder, feeling a smidgeon of guilt—but only a smidgeon—for not telling him she had remembered almost everything. As the day wore on, in the least likely moments, new pieces of information slipped into the space of her consciousness.

  Not all of it was welcomed.

  She’d been a fool about Culpepper. He was a disgusting and vile creature, and she’d been willing to hand her life to him in return for a title. And he hadn’t really even wanted her; he’d only wanted her dowry.

  Just as troublesome was her treatment of Stone. She’d considered him a tremendous annoyance as he’d trailed after her following her come out. He’d never been far away, and he’d watched every person who approached her suspiciously. How was it that the same behavior on his part didn’t bother her at all now? In fact, she appreciated it!

  She’d treated him horrendously, dismissing him because he wasn’t his father’s heir. She’d acted like a spoiled brat.

  But now, she was faced with some uncertainties. Had he only been so diligent because of the bet he’d lost to her brother, or was something else motivating him?

  Even if he’d only done so to honor the bet initially, was that still the case?

  Most importantly: Did he mean it when he’d told her he loved her?

  Remembering her brother wasn’t an altogether pleasant realization either. Westerley was going to kill her for taking off with Culpepper! Would he be angry with Stone for marrying her, or would he be grateful to not have her as a responsibility any longer?

  It would be a miracle if he didn’t call one of them out. A chill trickled down her spine. Her brother mustn’t duel anyone. Not Culpepper nor Stone.

  Her family had the worst luck when it came to duels. Her brother had accidentally shot her sister in one duel, and their father had been killed in another.

  A wave of guilt rolled through her at the thought of her father.

  “Before I fell down the stairs,” she pressed, “what plans did you have for our future? Not for the first few days, but for the first year?”

  Needing to not only hear his answer but comprehend how truthful it may or may not be, she turned her head and watched his reaction to this question. This time, he didn’t tense up with that closed-off look. Instead, his shoulders fell and he sighed, as though relinquishing some invisible barrier.

  “I have an estate in Kent.” His smile was more of a grimace. “Warton Cottage has been operational, but it’s sat empty for some time. I thought you might enjoy decorating it.”

  He wasn’t lying about this. She remembered his sister, Lady Hawthorne, telling her that her father had purchased estates for all of her brothers. Even the daughter had inherited an estate apart from her husband, although it had been bequeathed by an aunt.

  “And then, I thought, we could fill it with children.” He slid her a glance, one eyebrow lifted as though asking a question.

  “How many?” Her voice hitched.

  “At least two but more if you want. Do you want children?”

  She inched her head up and down. Good lord, she still kept two of her favorite dolls in her bedchamber.

  Her bedchamber at Well’s Place felt like another world.

  “I want all of that,” she admitted. Only… It came with a pricking sensation of loss. No, it was more than a pricking sensation. It was more of a vacuum.

  There was a reason she’d been willing to marry a vile duke, and she couldn’t remember why.

  “What?” He was watching her now. “You want all of that but…”

  He knew!

  Not that she had her memory, but he knew about that need.

  “I’m not sure,” she answered honestly. “I love you. I cannot think of anything that will make me happier than what you’ve just described…”

  “But…” His eyes shuttered.

  She fisted a hand to her abdomen. “I’m missing something.”

  His jaw clenched, and the barriers that had fallen last night went up again. This is how she remembered him from before: hard, cynical, and defensive.

  But that wasn’t him at all. Had he only seemed that way before because of how she’d treated him?

  The man she’d known over the past few days was the real Stone Spencer, the person he was with his family and friends.

  “I—”

  Thundering hooves of an approaching rider kept her from saying more.

  “Spencer! Tabetha!” The rider was familiar.

  “By God, it’s Westerley.” Stone stood up, waving. “Ho, there!”

  Tabetha’s heart dropped. With her brother’s appearance, all of their lies were going to be exposed one way or another.

  When Stone had risen from the bench, he’d dropped her hand, and, once he lowered himself back onto the seat, he noticeably did not reach for it again.

  In fact, despite the small space, he managed to insert an inch of distance between them.

  Was their love one of the lies that would be exposed?

  This sensation of loss was far greater than the one she’d mentioned to him a minute before. This one could haunt her forever.

  This one… was real.

  Before her brother’s horse had even come to a halt, he was on the ground and swooping her off the gig and into his arms. His hat all but covered his thick brown hair, and his blue eyes were reminiscent of her father.

  “Tabetha, thank God!” His expression was one of palpable relief.

  She buried her face in his coat, fighting back unexpected tears at his familiar and reassuring scent. He was going to be angry with her but he was her brother first.

  “Jules!” She sniffed. “I’m so sorry!”

  “Damn you.” He squeezed her tight and if she didn’t know better, she’d imagine that her somewhat rese
rved older brother was fighting tears of his own.

  “I’m sorry.” Those were the only words that seemed even partially adequate.

  He leaned back, assessing her well-being. “How could you do something so stupid! Do you know what kind of trouble you’ve made for everyone?”

  Nope, definitely not tears. The shining in his eyes must be anger.

  “Don’t.” Stone’s objection demanded both of their attention. “She’s been through enough already.”

  Tabetha glanced back and saw that Stone had descended from the gig as well. He stood his ground firmly, feet planted wide, arms folded across his chest.

  Westerley nodded. “You were right.” Her brother loosened his hold on her and then tilted his head, making that familiar horrid cracking sound with his neck. “That doesn’t mean she’s going to escape the consequences for what she’s done.”

  “Just wait until you and I can speak privately. There are things...” Stone’s words trailed off. “Did you cross paths with Culpepper?” He turned all business.

  “Briefly. But enough to ensure that he won’t be a problem. And in London, Blackheart’s men are waiting for his return.”

  Stone stared hard and then dropped a solid nod in her brother’s direction. Tabetha felt as though an entire conversation was occurring above her head without them having to utter a single word.

  “Why won’t he be a problem?” She stepped back from her brother. “You didn’t challenge him? Promise me you haven’t committed yourself to another duel!”

  But rather than hear her brother’s answer, she realized too late that Stone was staring at her and looking stunned. “You remembered,” he said. “You know.”

  “I’d gladly challenge Culpepper but Charley would have my hide.” Her brother ignored Stone to answer her, referring to his wife. “Your lies, sneaking away alone like that, however, without a maid, or telling anyone where you’ve gone, is going to leave your dowry ten thousand pounds lighter.”

  “You paid him off?” She eyed stone warily, overwhelmed at having to deal with both of them simultaneously.

  She would have much preferred to have this discussion with Stone while they were alone and suddenly that smidgeon of guilt grew to mountainous proportions.

  “Of course, I had to pay him off.” Using some of her dowry. She didn’t care about any of that and had the sudden urge to cover both her ears and cry.

  “I’m sorry.” This apology was to both of them—for everything.

  She could have lost so much more. Thank God she’d come to her senses.

  “What do you mean, she remembered?” Her brother turned to frown at Stone.

  It was Stone’s turn to ignore a question. “Culpepper’s returning to London? You trust him to honor his word?”

  “About as far as I can throw him. But I do trust that Blackheart will make sure the duke proves trustworthy regardless. Culpepper’s also promised to put a stop to any gossip by his servants. Although, one can never count on that.”

  “So, he isn’t coming after us—after me.” Tabetha bit her lip. She was not going to be a duchess. Ever. That empty feeling returned and settled on her like a great burden.

  Archie chose that moment to sit up straight and glower at the new arrival.

  “Culpepper told me the two of you left Gretna ahead of him. And since I knew this couldn’t have been the case, I figured something was up. When we parted ways, he headed south. I’m not sure if he was more upset about the loss of a potential wife or the loss of his cat.”

  Stone’s gaze had locked on her again, filled with questions and also a few accusations. “When?” he demanded.

  “When what?” Westerley glanced between the two of them. “Good God, Tabetha, what’s happened to your hair? And you’ve dirt on your cheek. Is that soot? You look like a ten-year-old hoyden.”

  Tabetha stared back at Stone, ignoring her brother’s unkind assessment of her appearance. “Last night.” She couldn’t very well admit her memory had crashed through like a thunderstorm while they’d been making love—while he’d been moving in and out of her. Nor could she admit that she didn’t want to go back to who she’d been before. Not completely, anyway. And not with her brother glancing back and forth between the two of them.

  “You didn’t think to share that with me?”

  “You lied to me first.”

  “I don’t know what the two of you are going on about, but I’d prefer to discuss it over a hot meal and a pint of ale rather than argue in this heat.” Westerley rubbed the back of his neck. “Ramstail Quarry is just a few miles back. My traveling coaches as well as the rest of my entourage will be putting up there.”

  “I agree. Which reminds me… I left Creighton there, at the Pig and Hen. He injured his foot and your er… baby required a repair.”

  “I saw that.” Her brother scowled.

  Stone was no longer looking at Tabetha, and she remembered all the other times she’d been ignored by her brother and his friends. Obviously, Westerley’s prized curricle was more important than their future.

  “If you wouldn’t mind driving my sister a few more miles, I’ll take her off your hands for the remainder of the journey. I have two carriages following.” Westerley turned to Tabetha. “Charley and Bethany insisted on coming along. And Chase of course. Mother sent Emily as well. Two married ladies and your maid ought to provide the requisite decorum to salvage your reputation.”

  “Bethany is here?” Bethany would know what she should do.

  Westerley nodded. “And Mother’s told her friends you are visiting Aunt Edith. That she had fallen ill, and you’d volunteered to nurse her back to health.”

  They had it all figured out. “A hasty recovery then,” Tabetha blurted out sarcastically.

  His response was to pin a disapproving gaze on her. She’d drawn that look on several occasions since he’d become her guardian. “Lady Felicity knows. She guessed when I showed up at her father’s house looking for you.” He went right on as though she’d not spoken a word. “Aside from her, however, I believe we can keep this little excursion from the gossips. Which will be important if you’re still in search of a husband.”

  Her brother was already remounting his horse at the same time Stone climbed onto their vehicle. Before now, he would have all but lifted her into the gig. This time, he didn’t so much as offer her a hand.

  She would not cry. She was not a child.

  After a few failed attempts, she managed to get herself settled onto the bench, which had been a place of considerable contentment up until now. She was not a child. Were they treating her this way because she’d acted like one in the past?

  “I’ll go ahead and reserve rooms,” Westerley said.

  “We won’t be far behind you.” Stone sounded grim. He didn’t say another word even after the dust Westerley’s horse kicked up had settled.

  “Hiya.” He stared straight ahead as he drove.

  “I’m sorry.” She couldn’t stand the silence.

  “I am too.” But he didn’t sound as though he wanted to reconcile with her. He sounded angry.

  They needed to talk about this.

  “You didn’t tell him we were married.”

  This had him glancing at her in disgust. “I was too busy wondering when the hell you had remembered. And then I wondered if all of it had been a lie—a means for you to avoid facing your mistakes.”

  “Is that all everyone sees this as? Tabetha’s stupid mistake?” Archie had climbed onto her lap and then burrowed his way into her arms.

  “Honestly, Tabetha, I don’t give a damn.”

  She rubbed her chin over Archie’s head, feeling cold and alone. Tabetha didn’t want to talk to him when he was like this. It hurt too much.

  And it wasn’t as though she was the only one who had perpetuated falsehoods. The fact was, he’d pretended they were in love. And even after they’d left The Tartan Scarf, he’d gone on allowing her to believe he was gainfully employed, as an estate manager.

>   But, not everything had been a lie. In fact most of it, she suspected, had been quite real.

  She refused to believe otherwise.

  Staring off to the side of the road, she determined to wait until his anger was in check.

  “Mister Rock Chester!” She nearly snorted in disbelief that she’d fallen for such a name.

  She couldn’t wait until he was in a more receptive mood to clear this up. They had to talk now.

  Determined to have this out, she drew in a deep breath.

  “Most of my memory returned the first time. When I gave you my virginity.” She lifted her chin and stared forward. It was a harsh reminder for him, but if he could be obstinate then so could she.

  “I’ll tell him tonight.” And then he clamped his lips together in a tight line.

  “And then what?” She stared at his profile.

  He closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled when he opened them. “I don’t know.”

  She’d known the truth all day. That was something the old Tabetha would have done—play games with something as significant as that. She’d asked him all sorts of questions to trip him up. Had it all been a joke to her?

  But she wasn’t the same as she’d been before.

  As much as he’d like to believe that discovering she’d hidden something so important from him was the only reason he was angry with her, he’d be lying to himself.

  He’d been furious with her before Westerley appeared. Because she’d essentially admitted that loving him was not enough. She’d said she was missing something.

  Her confession was even worse in that it was something he’d known all along. And now, since he’d been unable to exercise any self-control where she was concerned, she was going to be trapped with him for a lifetime. She’d have decades to resent the fact that she’d given up her dream of position and status.

  Because of him.

  Stone clenched his fists on the reins, and then relaxed them when Polly startled.

  Tabetha’s obsession with winning a grand title was somehow connected to her father. He realized that now. But knowing why she needed the recognition wasn’t going to change what she wanted—what she needed to accept herself.