AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With this knowledge, she prompted him to go to the doctor. His shame affected him with too great intensity for him to listen to her. So much so, that he threatened to disown her if she sought annulment of their marriage on this ground, which condemned her to a sterile life. Some months into their marriage, they gave up their fruitless night encounters. She receded back to her books and to her social life, seeking to ignore the emotional emptiness of it.
She sat on her bed, sliding her hand on the velvety coverlet and remembered Peter brought a message from her contact in the inn. The man needed to talk to her in person on directions he received from London. Peter said her contact would meet her tomorrow afternoon in the woods behind the cemetery. The graveyard lay outside the walls, so she must to find a way to slip out, which she would take care of in the morning. Busy day ahead. She’d better rest. With that thought, she lay down on the crispy bed clothes.
* * *
Annabel took a key from her breeches’ pocket and inserted it in the fenced, arched side gate. Attentive survey around, she checked if anyone saw her and slipped out, locking it again. The greyish cool afternoon favoured her with a diffuse light.
That morning she saw the gardener on that point, cleaning the previous autumn leaves. This gate lay open for him to take the rubbish outside the wall. She sat on a bench nearby with meek composure, awaiting. The moment the middle-aged man left for luncheon, she rushed to the gate and stole the key.
Now she walked as near the wall as possible to go to her meeting. She got a mile to go around the wall. The gate stood in the opposite direction of where she had to be, as per the information she gathered asking around the castle.
The luxuriant green landscape smelled of flowers and hosted numerous birds singing all around. Beautiful for an entertaining walk if she had the time.
Besides these black breeches, she dressed a coarse white shirt tied at the neck, a grey coat and a simple hat. The man’s attire aimed to not draw attention neither to her gender, nor to her movements. Knives hidden in her boots and waist gave her more confidence. Her training afforded her the knowledge of their use. She had packed these masculine clothes knowing she might have need of her agility during this time. Agile gait, she hoped she met no one.
* * *
Romulus worked the whole day in the solar and exhaustion made him take a break. Standing, he stepped to the window high above the ground. A sleepless night tended to be strenuous for work. Legs apart, hands in his pockets, his mind conjectured.
He remembered Annabel’s mention of married bliss and the violent impulse to punch her husband, if he was not dead yet. The sour fire that burned in him at the thought of her and the fop together threatened his peace of mind. He did not have much contact with the count as he was younger by a few years. The Winchesters stood in a lofty rank, with comfortable finances and excellent social connections, though the Dukes of Blackthorne circulated in a more rarefied sphere. She married well, no doubt. The question being, why she did it if he, Romulus asked her already. This would derange him, if he kept thinking of it. She made her choice. He never asked the reason, she never told, full stop.
His aunt, Charlotte, had been spending the last six years nagging him with marriage. Even more after Christian, his elder brother, died five years ago and Romulus had to come back to England for good. His brother’s demise came as a blasting shock to his family. Christian and his cursed pride that used to get the best of him. A coveted mistress and her preference for the opponent in the duel. A nonsense he should have avoided.
As a second son, the old Duke destined Romulus for war. Romulus knew it that fateful summer, but preferred to ignore it. He had no problems with his destiny. He did not want to be a Duke and even less to marry. Nuptials did not enthusiasm him, not after Annabel’s treacherous betrayal. But he needed an heir and he would have to face the issue sooner or later. Well, later, then
His left hand lifted to the nape of his neck, to relieve tension and his head tilted as his attention caught on someone trudging along the wall outside. The high place from the solar gave a good view of the outside part of the wall. A commoner down there, by the looks of the clothes. The man acted a tad too suspicious for Romulus to let him be, looking around every five paces and keeping close to the wall. Damn it! What was this one doing in his lands? There could be no allowing strangers to sniff here with his affairs on the edge. He decided to go check this. His coat on, he left.
* * *
Annabel kept a constant eye on her back. She took the cover of the woods, even though the cemetery lay out of sight still. A distant crunch of a dry twig alerted her of someone in the vicinity. She sped up though the terrain did not make it any easy. A clearing lay ahead of her.
Now she heard someone running, she picked her waist knife in her hand and ran, too. Her five feet something did not allow for large leaps, but she could run fast due to her light weight. The footfalls sounded nearer and faster.
“Hey, you!” Darn it all! It had to be the blasted man and his well over six feet height.
He would catch up with her with his long muscled legs. Flight would not do; fight would have to. She stopped, turned, and the knife shone in her hand.
He stanched at once in his black garments. “Annabel?” His brows pleated. “What are you doing here? I gave orders for you to stay inside the walls!”
“Stay away from me!” She held up the knife, his gaze lowered to it.
“What the hell?” He raked his hands through his hair. “Give me that before someone gets hurt.” He commanded in his usual grave voice.
“Go away and no one gets hurt!” She issued, convict.
“Where are you heading?” His prowled slow in her direction.
She kept her ground and fighting stance. “That is none of your business.”
He continued coming. “These are my lands and I make it my business to verify the goings on it.”
“But you don’t get to imprison me!”
He halted, she brandished the knife, they reached a stalemate.
“You want a stroll; I will find someone to escort you.” He extended his hand in silence, asking for her knife.
“I will have no man sniffing on my neck!”
