Page 65 of The Return of the Rake

“I’m a little frightened to tell you,” she admitted, twisting her fingers together. “B-But it was a lie that Mrs Fairway and I agreed upon telling when I ran away from home, to pr-protect me.”

His body tensed at her words, any lingering good humour vanishing as something like fear clouded his eyes. “It’s your husband,” he said, the words bleak.

Anne nodded.

He moved so swiftly she gasped, finding herself sitting alone on the settee as he stared down at her, wild-eyed with alarm. Anne gazed back at him, wondering why he looked so dreadful. She had known he might be shocked, but Mrs Fairway had made her believe he might not be displeased upon hearing the truth. He might even be glad. Yet, it was a lie, and she was not exactly what he thought she was, and that troubled her a good deal.

“He’s not dead,” he guessed, his fists clenching.

Anne stared at him in shock. “What?” she said, so surprised by his guessing so incorrectly that she could not find her voice for a moment.

“Damn it, Anne!” he said, his voice taut with desperation. “Tell me at once before I lose my wits. Is he still alive?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “That is, he is neither dead nor alive, for he never existed.”

King stared at her, looking as though he had heard her words but could not comprehend them. “What?”

Anne twisted the thin gold band she had worn on her finger for so many years, feeling wretched and yet defiant, for the lie had been a good one, and necessary too. “I was never married. Mr Adamson was a fiction, concocted to give me a measure of respectability. Why on earth did you think we needed death certificates and marriage certificates?” she demanded in frustration, wondering why such a man hadn’t guessed the truth.

“Mrs Fairway said there was a fire, you’d lost the records,” he said, a dazed expression on his face now, which was a slight improvement.

“Oh, that was a good notion,” she said approvingly. “But there wasn’t, you see.”

King sat down again, grasping her hands very tightly and gazing at her in wonder. “My darling girl, you must forgive me, I think I am very dull tonight, but could I clarify, just so there is no confusion… have you ever been married?”

“No, never,” she said simply.

“There never was a Mr Adamson, or a man who purported to be your husband?” he added cautiously.

“No, never,” she repeated.

“Then who the devil is the man in the painting?” he asked in exasperation, frowning at her.

“I don’t have the faintest idea,” she said with a shrug. “Mrs Fairway found it in a shop in town before we left. She said it would be more believable if I had a portrait of my dead husband that people could see.”

King gave a sudden bark of laughter and lowered his head, pressing them against her hands. “Devil take me,” he said in wonder. “Good God.”

“J-Jasper?” Anne said uncertainly. “You’re not cross, are you?”

He looked up, such happiness and delight shining in his eyes that she could do nothing but smile.

“My love, how can I be? Not only is there no dead man for me to compete with for your heart, but you have never suffered the calamity that I feared you might have done, that you might always regret the loss of an old life. You damn near gave me a heart attack, you wicked creature, but I am gladder than you will ever know.”

Anne let out a breath and leaned back against the settee, holding her arms out to him. “Oh, I’m so relieved. Then come and kiss me, and make love to me, and show me how it will be when we are married.”

A pained look crossed his face, and he took a hurried step backwards. “I’m a blackguard for ever having suggested such a thing,” he said crossly, running an agitated hand through his hair so it stuck up at odd angles.

“What?” Anne sat up, frowning at him. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean that you’ll be just as you are now when you walk up the aisle. I’m many things, Anne, but a seducer of innocents is not one of them.”

Anne stared at him with growing annoyance. “Don’t be so silly.”

He looked offended by the remark and folded his arms. “It isn’t silly. I may not be a gentleman in the eyes of the world, but you are most certainly a lady, and I shall treat you with the respect you are due.”

“So, you didn’t respect me when you thought I’d been married?” she demanded.

“Don’t twist my words,” he said in frustration. “You know I have the greatest respect for you and always have. But there is a difference between you as a widow and as an unmarried lady, and don’t make out like you don’t understand it, for I know very well that you do!”