Married By Midnight(23)

She was thankful for the distraction, for she was still reeling from the kiss and feared everyone would see the indecent wantonness in her eyes, and regret their choice of a bride for Garrett.

“A prize...” Charlotte said, gazing down at Anne, who had not yet risen to her feet. “It should be the lady’s choice. What would you like, Anne? A special cake prepared in the kitchen tomorrow? Or perhaps Garrett should buy you something. A pretty bauble?”

“But he is a winner, too,” she declared. “He shouldn’t have to present me with anything. I will therefore choose the cake as prize—something we can all enjoy.” She turned to him. “Do you like chocolate, Garrett?” she asked him.

He wet his lips, and heaven help her, she melted all over again. He smiled.

“Very much so.” He helped her to her feet and their eyes held for a few heart-stopping seconds before he turned to address Devon. “Getting out of here is another contest entirely. Do you think we’ll make it back to the chapel before dawn?”

He was still holding her hand, and her whole body tingled with awareness at the warmth of his flesh and the discernible might of his large, strong hand, wrapped snugly around hers. Everything about him was so very male and invigorating.

Then he let go, and the connection was broken. A single breath sailed out of her.

Anne watched him lead the way out and felt a powerful surge of lust as she recalled what he had said: I swear on my life, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met.

It was flattery, nothing more, she tried to tell herself, and she must remember that she had been led astray by pretty words once before.

Nevertheless, as she followed the others out of the catacombs and through the church, then across the cold courtyard, and into the luxurious warmth of the palace, she was overcome by an unfathomable wave of joy that left her feeling bewildered.

It had been ages since she’d felt part of anything, and this family, that had so warmly welcomed her into their fold, was like a force of nature. There was so much history here, so many secrets she could sense...but did not know the answers to. Life had been difficult here, yet there was laughter.

She had forgotten what it felt like to be playful, as she had once been in her childhood.

And tonight she had trusted Garrett enough to allow him to hold her in his arms, to kiss her, and flatter her. She had allowed herself to feel desire. And she was unsettled by the fact that her body still burned for more.





Chapter Seven





“I am quite convinced there is an attraction between them,” Charlotte said as she spooned a poached egg and a slice of ham onto her plate at the sideboard.

Rebecca and Chelsea were already seated at the table finishing their biscuits.

“I think so, too,” Rebecca replied. “It was quite obvious last night when he took her hand and dashed off into the darkness with her the instant you suggested they should be partners. And when we found them at the end, Lady Anne was blushing. There can be no doubt about it.”

Charlotte sat down at the table and spread her napkin on her lap. “Do you think anything happened between them? A kiss perhaps?”

Chelsea sat back with her coffee and exhaled on a sigh. “Now I am disappointed I went to bed so early. It sounds like I missed a great deal of excitement.”

“Not at all,” Rebecca replied. “Though it was more than a little amusing when Charlotte howled like a rabid wolf.”

“Not a wolf,” she explained. “I was the inconsolable ghost of a murdered monk who was separated from his great love.”

Chelsea laughed. “Ah. Well, that is not nearly half so bad. Were you trying to frighten them?”

“I was having my revenge on Garrett for all his shenanigans when we were children... But you are both missing the point. What do you think about Garrett and Lady Anne? Is there any chance they might truly fall in love and decide to pursue a real marriage?”

Rebecca sliced into her ham. “If that happens, it will be higher forces at work to be sure, for I know that was not Devon’s intention when he and Blake searched the whole of England for a suitable bride. They were specifically looking for a woman who would be content with the pretense of a marriage, not a real one.”

“Not just be content,” Chelsea added. “They were looking for someone who was also seeking independence. I believe Anne is that woman.”

Charlotte regarded them both shrewdly in the morning’s winter light beaming in the windows. “That may have been their intention, but I am beginning to believe father’s curse is not really a curse at all, but some sort of magical boon. So far, three out of my four brothers have all been muscled into matrimony against their will, and all have found their perfect mates. You are both blissfully happy, are you not?”