Despite Lady Caroline having told her on more than one occasion of his protective streak where she and her younger brother were concerned—overprotective, she had more often stated—Annabelle had not nearly gleaned the depth of his brotherly devotion.
Jealousy, swift and completely unexpected, exploded through her. Her own brother had never defended her in such a way. No one had ever cared for her in the way Sterling obviously cared for his sister.
“Isn’t that right, Annabelle?” Sterling repeated.
She met his dark gaze. “Ihadqualms.” She broke off, licking her lips. She had not admitted aloud what, in her heart of hearts, she had come to believe. “I no longer suspect that he has culpability in Gaston’s death.”
“Thank heavens,” Caroline breathed.
Misery welled up inside her as a second thought crashed through her. If Lady Caroline and Lord Sterling Randall had their way and she agreed to marry him—and she could not see any way to avoid that now—she would always come second to his siblings, mayhap to his entire family.
She would never be fully loved.
A part of her, a silly part, no doubt, had always harbored a secret hope that the man she eventually married would esteem her above all others.
But marriage in thetonwas about power, prestige—not love. Hadn’t her family impressed that on her from childhood? Hadn’t the list her brother drafted for her parents proved that? There was no gain to be had in a love match. Money, and the correct connections, were the goal.
“Lady Annabelle, are you quite all right?” Lady Caroline asked, reaching to cover her hands, now clenched tightly in her lap, with one of her own.
With effort, she managed a tight smile. “I am fine. Merely fatigued. I did not sleep for worry over…” She broke off.Dear God.She had nearly lost control of her tongue. Confessing her worry over Sterling’s safety was the very last thing she wanted to admit. “My maid,” she finished lamely.
“Of course,” Caroline murmured.
“I believe we have covered enough ground for the moment,” Sterling said, his tone…different.
Unable to resist the impulse, she glanced toward him.
He still studied her, but a softness had replaced the flint in his eyes.Why?
“It looks as if you yourself have yet to turn in, Sterling,” Caroline suggested. “I daresay, we all could use some rest. I myself had a very long evening. I received the telegram yesterday, and of course, arranged a chaperone to see me to Fenwick at once. Thank goodness I had the wherewithal to put her up at the Pilgrim’s Rest and see to her return before traveling here. Imagine the scandal if she walked in on what I did.”
“Yesterday?” Sterling demanded, paying no heed to the rest of his sister’s diatribe. “What do you mean you received wordyesterday?”
Annabelle had known he would focus on that.
Not wishing to receive yet another lecture should he ascertain she’d prearranged Caroline’s telegram delay, and he was fast on his way to doing that, Annabelle sprang to her feet and hastened to the door. “An excellent notion. I bid you both good night.” Without awaiting a response, she dashed from the room.
***
Sterling watched Annabelle depart, then slid a hopeful look toward his sister.
Caroline met his gaze and promptly dropped back onto the chair she had vacated a moment ago.
Swallowing a groan, he took the opposite chair. “Yes?”
“Annabelle has pluck, coming all this way to question you, with virtually nothing to go on but a certainty you did not like her brother.”
“She has courage to spare.”
“And remarkable intelligence.”
“An understatement if ever there was one.”
“Out of curiosity, how did you convince her you had nothing to do with Gaston’s death?”
He shrugged. “In truth, I do not know. I assure you, once I ascertained that Scotland Yard was not out to question me, I did not concern myself with what she chose to believe. I made no false claim of a burgeoning friendship with the cad, I promise you.”
“No, of course, you wouldn’t.”
