Chapter 30

“Sinclair, you are making me quite nervous,” Max protested, gripping the squabs as the carriage charged through the shadowed country roads.

Percy had asked the driver to ensure the horses went at their fastest pace, and the driver was not disappointing. It was akin to being caught in a most violent storm, the three men within the carriage being tossed and thrown around every corner, barely able to hold themselves in their seats.

“I am making myself quite nervous,” Percy shouted above the din of the carriage wheels clattering. “What a rare and glorious feeling!”

Dickie cried out in delight. “Dear Percy has come alive, Max! Do not spoil it for him with your endlessly dull questions! Let us all just enjoy this wild ride!”

“But I fear we shall not survive this wild ride!” Max bellowed. “What is the reason for such haste?”

Percy did not reply, his entire body alight with a shivery, electric sensation that he could not begin to explain. For most of his life, he had been quiet and restrained, wearing a mask among society out of fear that someone might see him as his father had seen him: a weak, pathetic disgrace. The only times he was able to be himself were with Anna and her brothers, and even then, he had never been more vulnerable than with her. Just her.

He had thought it was the croquet ball to the head that had made him tell her his story, but he was beginning to think that the croquet ball had actually knocked some sense into him. It had made him see that Anna was the one person he could trust with anything, who would be entirely honest. And he trusted that she would be just as honest when he gave his confession. Good or bad, he would not be afraid anymore. He needed to tell her, regardless of her answer.

And if it cannot be you, then it will be no one. For there was no one who could replace such a rare woman. No one who could even come close.

Just then, the carriage veered sharply, and a panicked shout went up from the driver’s bench. Nervous nickers sounded from the horses, as the carriage began to list precariously to the left.

“Blast it, Sinclair!” Max cursed, scrambling for the door.

He was about to open it when, by some miracle, the carriage righted itself. The horses trotted on for a few more paces before the driver called them to a relieved halt.

“There’s a carriage in the road!” the driver explained. “Just came to a sudden standstill! Spooked the horses! It’s a mite dark out here, but I think it’s one of ours!”

Percy’s eyes flew wide. “One of ours?”

“Aye, I think it’s the one left behind,” the driver replied. “It’s not one of our drivers, but I’d know that carriage anywhere.”

Percy lunged for the door, spilling out onto the road and almost losing his balance. Bracing against the side of the carriage until his legs felt less shaky, he squinted into the gloom ahead. Sure enough, it was the second carriage. The one he had put Anna into, meaning to kiss her goodbye for the last time.

How can it be here?

His question was answered a moment later as the door to that carriage swung open, and Anna burst out of it like a woman possessed. Wild-eyed, hair flying out behind her, her dress torn and muddied, she came toward Percy with all the fire and fury of a vengeful spirit.

“How dare you!” she roared, jabbing a bony finger at him. “How dare you leave me behind! Do you have any idea what I have had to endure to get to this… this… miserable place? I have had to dig a carriage out of the mud! I have been thrown this way and that like a ragdoll! I have had a horse eat my bonnet!”

For reasons entirely unknown to him, and most unwise, Percy laughed. He laughed so hard that his ribs ached, and he could not breathe, half leaning against the side of the carriage. It was the laughter of someone so relieved, so grateful, so astounded by the vision of wild beauty in front of them that they could not help it.

“Have you gone mad?” Anna stopped abruptly. “What is the matter with you? I asked you this once before, but what manner of devil are you, to laugh at me when I have had my bonnet eaten? It was my favorite bonnet, and the only one who is supposed to be eating bonnets is Caro!”

Percy put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I am just… glad to see you.”

“What?” She huffed and puffed, her face paler than he had ever seen it, in the silvery light of the moon. “Oh, this must be some trick that the fates have decided to play with me. Yes, this must be. I have not been humiliated enough, clearly!”

At that moment, Max stuck his head out of the carriage. “Anna, is that you?”

“Yes, it is me, and I should like to know why neither of you noticed that your sister was not behind you!” she shot back, running a hand across her windswept and tousled hair. It had come loose from her bun, falling freely past her shoulders in long, golden waves. Percy doubted he had ever seen anything finer, his fingertips itching to discover if they were as silky as they looked.

Max frowned. “Sinclair informed us that you wished to stay behind at Westyork after all of that unpleasantness with Lord Luminport. I believe he said you were in the sort of mood that only friends could appease.”

“Did you now?” Anna glowered at Percy, as if she wished she had another croquet mallet in her hand and a ball ready to fire in his direction. “Well, Max, you were misinformed. I sat there waiting for the carriage to move, and it did not. I got out and I ran—yes, I ran!—to catch up to you. Did you not hear me shouting?”

Max pulled an apologetic face. “I daresay I did not.”

“I thought there was some screeching on the wind, but I assumed it was seagulls,” Dickie added, putting a foot on the carriage steps. He wore a wicked grin, and had his arm stretched casually across the doorway, preventing Max from stepping out. But Percy had a feeling there was nothing casual about it.

“Seagulls?” Anna spluttered. “Westyork is nowhere near the sea, Dickie!”

Dickie shrugged. “My knowledge of ornithology has always been atrocious. Truly, I do not know my sparrows from my bullfinches.”

“Percival told the driver I was staying behind!” Anna leaped back in. “I had to prize it out of the fellow, and when I demanded that he follow, he refused. He assumed the order had come from you, Max, and I was being difficult. In the end, I had to pay him from my pin money to exchange places with one of Daniel’s drivers, so he could not be blamed if the order had come from you.”

Max’s bewildered gaze darted toward Percy. “Is this true? Did you ask the driver to leave her behind?”

“I thought it pointless for her to come all the way to Granville House just to have to return,” Percy replied. “She would have had to journey in the dark, and as you can see from our own near-miss, these roads are not the safest.”

Max’s expression softened. “I admire your forethought, Sinclair, but you might have told me the truth. In all likelihood, I would have agreed with you.”

“Do not side with him!” Anna implored, stepping closer. “Indeed, it is my belief that you should… you should… never associate with this gentleman again. And I use the word ‘gentleman’ very loosely.”

Alarm bells clamored in Percy’s head, and before he knew what he was doing, he had closed the gap between himself and Anna. His hand grasped for hers, his eyes pleading as he whispered, “Do not. Anna, please. Do not.”

“Why should I not?” she choked, tears sparkling in her eyes. “Why should I not tell my brothers how… how… viciously you have hurt me? Why should I not tell them that it is not Lord Luminport who has wounded me? I might be small, I might not have much in the way of courage, I might have a heart that is… too soft, but you had no right… you had no right to…” Her words faded into juddering hiccups and ragged breaths, as if it was taking everything she possessed not to cry.

Max’s demeanor switched in an instant as he tried to push against Dickie’s arm. “What did you say, Anna? Did you say that Sinclair hurt you?” He pushed harder, but Dickie put his entire body in the doorway, his arms and legs splayed out like a starfish to prevent his brother from getting out. “Sinclair, I hope you have brought your pistols with you! Dickie, I swear to you I shall clout you on the back of the head if you do not move!”

“I am not letting you out,” Dickie strained to reply. “I refuse to see either one of you end up bloodied or worse!”

“Dickie, move!” Max shoved him hard, but he did not budge.

Meanwhile, all Percy could do was stare at Anna, witnessing the pain that he had caused her, etched across her remarkable face. Every mole, every freckle, every too-large or too-small feature a thing of absolute perfection to him.

You were here all along, and I have wasted so much time. It was the only thing he wanted to say to her, and the only thing that would not come out of his mouth.

“You had no right,” Anna whispered, her lower lip trembling. “You stole my first and my second kiss, and you called it shameful. You said, ‘Goodness, I do not know why I did that.’ And you had a look upon your face of such horror that… though I have never considered myself to be pretty, I have never felt uglier than in that moment. And you had no right to make me feel that way.”

He staggered a half step back as if she had kicked him in the stomach, pushing all of the air out of his lungs. “What?”

“Do not pretend you behaved otherwise, for when I sought to speak of it, you said we should not. You told me to forget it,” she replied, the agony in her voice like a thousand tiny blades twisting at once in his chest. “I have an excellent memory, remember? That look you gave me in the Orangery has haunted me. Your words have haunted me. I thought I could forgive and forget, but the trick you have just played on me, separating me from my brothers, has made me realize that I cannot.”

“What are they saying?” Max demanded to know, leaning his entire weight against Dickie in an attempt to get him to move. “Do not speak to her, Sinclair! If you have hurt her, you shall regret it!”

Anna smiled coldly, her eyes gleaming with the tears she was trying to blink back. “I already regret it,” she said quietly. “I regret it more than you could possibly fathom. Lord Luminport had his reasons for toying with me—unforgivable but understandable. You toyed with me for no reason at all.”

“That is not true.” Percy finally found his voice. “Anna, that is simply not true.”

She met his gaze with the kind of ferocity he had never seen from her, even in the midst of her angriest retorts. “Which part?”

“All of it,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Anna, I never meant to hurt you. To see that I have caused you such distress with my actions, my foolish words… It aches, here.” He brought her hand to his chest, pressing her palm to his racing heart.

She blinked in surprise. “Let go of me.”

“I cannot,” he replied hoarsely. “I cannot let go of you. I have tried in vain, but my heart will not relinquish you. It knew before I did, and I did not listen because I thought I was unworthy, I thought it was impossible. I wanted you to have your dream, and I feared that I would be your nightmare, so I sought to keep my distance. But the closer I am to you, the more my heart yearns for you, and when I selfishly kissed you goodbye at Westyork—I should have known I could not stay away. Your brother threatened me with a duel, and still, I could not stay away. Why, the only way to stop my heart calling to you would be if he put a shot right through it.”

“What?” she rasped, her brow creased in confusion.

Percy took a breath. “I love you, Anna.” He paused, a vast weight falling from his shoulders as those secret words were finally coaxed from his tongue. “My sweet Catchweed, I love you.”