“I have always known what Mama and Papa want,” she said. “I have never wavered in my duty.”
He reached out and captured one of her hands in his. “That’s not what I asked you,” he said. “Have you ever felt a fondness for another man?”
“No,” she said so quietly that he had to lean forward to catch her answer. She tried in vain to release her hand.
“Not said with conviction at all,” he said. “I don’t believe you.”
“No,” she said, rounding on him. “No, no, no! Now do you believe me? Let go of me, Joshua.” She struggled against his hand again, but he merely raised hers and held it to his lips.
“There’s no shame in it,” he said. “You are not betrothed yet, Annabelle, and I have heard on good authority that your father has told you you are free to refuse Justin if you so choose. You don't have to accept his offer. You can go home free if you wish.”
“How preposterous,” she said. “Why are you saying these things?”
“Because I don’t want you to make a mistake,” he said. “And because I can see that you are unhappy.”
“Because I won’t smile for you?” she said. “What nonsense!”
“No,” he said. “It’s not just the lack of smiles. You are unhappy. Why don’t you just simply say no to Justin?”
“I thought he was your friend,” she said.
“Precisely.” He smiled at her. “I would not want to see either of you unhappy.”
“Why should you care about my happiness?” she asked. “You never have.”
“I care,” he said.
She looked at him warily.
“No one will bite your head off if you say no,” he said. “Think, Annabelle. You could be free for almost the first time in your life.”
She got abruptly to her feet, pulled her hand from his, and took two paces away from him.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked him. “Our betrothal is to be announced on Grandpapa’s birthday. Everyone knows. And the announcement is just a formality. The betrothal is already as real as can be.”
“No, it is not,” he said. “One of the key players has not yet given her consent.”
“I want to go back downstairs,” she said.
He got to his feet and went to stand in front of her. He set a hand on each of her shoulders and lifted her chin with his thumbs.
“Don’t be unhappy, Annabelle, when there is no need to be,” he said. “You are eighteen years old. Suitors would come flocking to you if they knew you were free. You could choose someone you did not have to will yourself to care for.” He drew her toward him suddenly and set his forehead against hers. “Don’t cry. It’s not by any means too late.”
“Oh, it is, it is,” she wailed, putting her hands up over her face.
“No,” He drew her head against his shoulder and rocked her gently in his arms. “No, it isn’t, Annabelle, It will just take a little courage and you can be free. Do you want me to talk to your father? Or your grandfather? Or Justin, perhaps?”
“No!” She recoiled in some horror and stared at him with two large tear-filled eyes.
“Not if you don’t want,” he said. “But do take advantage of the freedom your parents have given you because they love you, Annabelle. Say no. You cannot be expected to love a man just because your parents and grandparents like him. I’ll wager you would have fought hard enough against them if they had chosen me, wouldn’t you? And they might well have done so, considering the fact that I am your grandfather's heir.”
She turned sharply away from him. “They would never have done so,” she said. “They would have chosen Christobel, if anyone.”
“Well,” he said, “I would not have accepted Christobel. I would have insisted on you.”
“You never liked me,” she said. “You were always horrid to me.”
“We seem to have talked ourselves full circle,” he said, setting a hand on her shoulder from behind. “It was all just teasing because I was fond of you or occasionally, I suppose, because I was a horrid boy. And you haven't always hated me, have you? You said yourself that you were worried about me when I was wounded at Waterloo.”
