Chapter Five

"O uch! That hurt. Will you please stop kicking up the rocks?" Beatrice stopped on the path and leaned down to inspect her ankle, shooting her older sister a murderous glare. "Might I remind you that you're the one who dragged me out of bed for this walk, and you don't seem to be enjoying yourself at all."

"I'm sorry," Anna grumbled. As she waited for her little sister to check for bruises, Anna rolled her neck back and raised her face to the sky, hoping the early morning sun would soak into her skin and leach out the consternation that had plagued her all night. After little to no sleep, she'd decided a walk would do her good, only it wasn't helping. Nothing was helping. For all her effort, Anna couldn't seem to get Jacob Wright out of her head. Nor his unexpected kiss.

Beatrice returned standing and resumed down the path with Anna stepping lightly in her wake. Everything about her was lagging today, her head, her heart—it was like she was stuck in a maze, and she kept taking the wrong turns. Every hedge appeared the same; every corner tricked her into going in circles.

"You usually love our walks," Beatrice said, slowing her pace until the women were side by side again. "What's ailing you? Is it Father?" Her grin was demonstrably sly. "Or is it someone else?"

Beatrice may only be sixteen, but no one could say she wasn't a quick study. Still… Anna wasn't in the mood to talk about Jacob. What was there to say, anyway? She was flummoxed at how to even put her feelings into words. But there were feelings. So many feelings. Like raindrops falling from the sky, Anna tried to grab hold of them, but they always dripped from her palm, never staying still long enough.

"Of course it's Father," Anna grumbled. It wasn't a complete lie. "I'm worried about him."

"Why?" Beatrice asked. "I think everything is going wonderfully. Did you see how Mrs. Wright looked at him last night? So many emotions were flying across the table that I thought I might get singed. Don't worry about Lord Newton. He's just being a protective son. He'll come around. I'm sure of it."

A soft smile came to Anna's face for the first time that morning. Oh, Beatrice. She was so young and na?ve. She still believed that love conquered all. Anna wished she could do the same. But experience had taught her that love was something to be feared. It was too powerful, unpredictable, and unyielding, like those raindrops in her palm. Uncontrollable.

But who was she to douse Beatrice's excitement? The last thing she wanted was to tarnish her little sister's innocence. No one had taken Anna's girlhood—she'd given it away willingly—but she'd be remiss to allow the same to happen to Beatrice.

A quiet acceptance passed between them. Anna figured the best thing to do was to remain silent on the matter. It had frosted overnight, and she made the effort to admire the way the sun rose to its heights, making the lawn appear like a carpet of diamonds scattered out before them. How fresh, how new dawn made everything seem, like anything was possible. Like the past could stay in one place forever.

"Do you mind if we go back now?" Beatrice asked, breaking the idyllic solitude. "Miss Iris said I could join her in the kitchen today. She's making hot cross buns and asked if I'd like to join her. She prefers to do it early before Jacob can catch her. Iris says he doesn't approve of her spending time baking, and she hates upsetting him."

Anna blinked. "Hot cross buns? What do you know about making bread?"

"Nothing," Beatrice replied jovially. "That's why I want to learn. Miss Iris says baking is a wonderful hobby, good for the soul. She says kneading is also perfect for a vexed mind. Apparently, one can take out their aggression on the dough. You should join us. You might need it today."

Anna was at a loss. She didn't even know if Beatrice could locate the kitchens in their own home. Since when was she interested in such manual labor? Again, Anna wondered if Jacob's aunts were a good influence on her impressionable sister.

Nevertheless, she hated to dissuade Beatrice when she was so excited. Over making hot cross buns. Usually, the girl was only that enthusiastic when she was eating them. "I… suppose we can go back," Anna answered unevenly. "As long as you mind the cooks. I don't want you to get in their way. They have a job to do."

"Oh, I know," Beatrice said. "Iris said they don't mind. She says they're used to it. The family isn't anything like the old viscount's."

But was that a good thing?

Beatrice rambled on. "Miss Iris said that they caused a stir at first when they moved in, but the staff got over it quickly enough. She said they couldn't be blamed for behaving differently because they hadn't the faintest idea how to behave anyway."

A laugh crackled from Anna's chest. "Yes, I suppose that makes sense. But there's different and then there's different ."

Beatrice's face was bright and clear as she laughed at her sister's comment. Not one freckle marred her perfect complexion. "I like it here," she said firmly, catching Anna off guard.

"You do? Why?"

Beatrice shrugged, gazing across the grounds toward the house where a commotion was building. Horses were being guided out from the stables to a waiting phaeton.

"It's just so easy," the younger woman explained. There was a verve in her voice that Anna had never heard before, something growing and expanding right before her eyes. "I love our home, you know I do, but it's been so dour. So much has happened. Mother dying, your illness, David leaving. It wasn't your fault," she rushed on, "but joyful moments were few and far between. Here, I don't know—there just seems to be so much laughter. Everything feels so… free."

An ache settled in Anna's chest. She'd always prided herself on her relationship with Beatrice. She kept secrets, of course—they were for her sister's sake—but she'd had no idea Beatrice kept them from her as well. Was their home so anemic? Anna hadn't thought so, but then again, she'd been lost in herself, bottled up with self-preservation. Perhaps her vision was skewed.

She couldn't afford to keep it that way. Not when this fresh start was being handed to her family. They deserved it too much.

A blush darkened Beatrice's cheeks. She made it a point not to meet Anna's eye. "I'm glad you told me," Anna replied evenly. No one should be embarrassed for telling their truth. "All right, let's go back at once. Make the most delicious hot cross buns we've ever tasted. And be sure to memorize everything so that you can continue to make them when we're home."

"Are you sure?" Beatrice asked, peeking up through her lashes.

"Of course! I can't wait to try them."

Beatrice lunged at her sister, kissing her ecstatically on both cheeks. "Thank you, Anna. I'll be sure to put extra icing on yours!"

"You better," Anna said, laughing.

The ladies changed course for the house, Beatrice picking up speed, and Anna managing not to kick any more rocks. By the time they were within shouting distance of the phaeton, the grooms had already secured four horses at its front. As if on cue, Sir John exited the house with Mrs. Wright on his arm. She was a lovely sight bundled in a deep purple cloak and white muff, with a matching bonnet perched precariously over her head. White puffs of air surrounded them along with their excitable chatter.

"Looks like Father also has plans for this morning." Beatrice giggled as Sir John lifted Mrs. Wright grandly into the phaeton.

"Indeed—" Anna started, but just as the word left her mouth, a third figure charged from the house.

Jacob.

The viscount wasted little time climbing into the phaeton along with the couple, arranging himself in the back seat without a care in the world. Sir John and Mrs. Wright parked themselves into the front seat and were too polite to share any uncomfortable glances about the interloper, though Anna could tell that was exactly what Jacob was. The couple's body language became too stilted and stiff when he joined the merry party. She had a sick suspicion that the man had invited himself. And he had only one goal in mind.

Well, it looks like I won't spend the morning reading in front of a fire, Anna lamented to herself. No matter. This is much more important.

"And where are you all off to?" she called out as she and Beatrice came up on the phaeton. She kept her tone light and pleasant, not wanting to alert the couple that she was onto Jacob's nasty game.

Sir John seemed visibly relieved as he greeted his daughters. Safety in numbers, and all that. "Mrs. Wright asked me to accompany her to the village. She said there are a few shops that I might enjoy. Maybe even stop for tea."

Like the night before, Anna could feel Jacob's gaze encroach upon her. It was rough and hot like a tongue against the skin. "Sounds lovely."

"Would you like to join us?" Mrs. Wright asked. Anna could have sworn that the lady rolled her eyes as she tilted her head slightly toward the back seat.

"Oh, I'd hate to intrude on the happy day," Anna said, finally fixing her attention on Jacob. The ridiculous man was clearly not used to waking up this early. His face was pale and humorless, and his clothes were ruffled and unkempt, as if he'd dressed himself in the dark. Naturally, his temperament matched. His expression was bland, emotionless as he waited for her answer, but she could tell he was aware of her every word. He played the relaxed man without a care in the world; however, he couldn't fool her. If he could have jumped out of the phaeton and thrown her in the house, he would have.

"It's no intrusion at all," Mrs. Wright said. "As you can see, we have just the spot for you."

Was it Anna's imagination, or did Jacob widen his thighs, usurping even more space on the seat?

She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, making him squirm. Her smile could have melted butter. "Oh, all right, then," she relented. "You've twisted my arm. It sounds delightful."

"Splendid," Sir John crowed. He stood at once, intending to get out and help Anna inside, but Jacob was quicker.

He offered his hand, though Anna was hesitant to take it. She hadn't thought things through. She had decided to spend the day with Jacob without realizing that she would be forced to touch him from time to time. It wasn't something she relished. Not after their encounter last night.

As she placed her hand in his, Jacob lowered his head so only she could hear his words. "You can't really be surprised to see me?" He squeezed her fingers before letting them go, holding her a second longer than needed. Anna flushed as she settled herself in her seat and the groom whipped the horses into a start.

Over the commotion, she felt confident enough to whisper back without being overheard by her father and Mrs. Wright. "I'm not surprised, merely confused. I wonder why you are going to such great lengths to stop the couple when you've said yourself that this isn't love."

Jacob flashed her a dangerous grin, and suddenly, he didn't seem so exhausted anymore. On the contrary, he looked wide awake… and determined. "Oh, it's not. It's war."

*

The party was halfway to the village before Anna could muster the courage to speak. Annoyance had struck her so insidiously that she was afraid if she opened her mouth any sooner, she would've screamed. War? Truly? What kind of reprobate was she dealing with here? From their conversation before, Anna understood that Jacob would be difficult, but she'd underestimated his tenacity.

Her maelstrom of thoughts wasn't helped by the fact that Jacob was intentionally crowding her. His thighs were splayed on their seat, forcing her to hug the side of the carriage even though the phaeton was of medium size, with ample room for four people.

Before Anna could contain herself, she shoved her elbow into Jacob's ribs. "Will you please move over? You're doing this on purpose."

The obstinate man didn't budge. "Doing that?"

Anna's laugh was as bitter as dandelion tea. "You know exactly what you're doing. Don't play dumb."

"I'm not playing anything."

She sucked in a breath, praying for composure. She was a lady; she would not elbow him anymore! "You're asserting your dominance, trying to cower me. It won't work. Just like your other ploy."

"Other ploy?"

Anna cocked the brim of her bonnet to the couple in front, grateful they were too enamored with each other to hear the ridiculous conversation in the back seat. "You won't win, you know. I'm an excellent competitor."

Her head was forward, but all too well Anna could sense Jacob inching toward her, feel the heavy weight of his breath before he spoke just above her ear. "And why is that?"

She closed her eyes, willing away the effect he had on her. If it was just her body, it would be one thing. Animal attraction was a simple biological occurrence. Common. But she couldn't lie to herself. Anna was enticed by him. Pure and simple. From the musky woodiness of his smell to the tight aggressiveness of his body, she was helpless in her reaction. But the way he captivated her mind bothered Anna to know end. She was constantly in tune with him—from the way his finger traced little circles on his knee to the way his foot tapped anxiously on the floor, every move he made was seared into her consciousness. It made no sense! And it made piecing sentences together damned difficult!

"I… um…" What had she meant to say? Anna shook her head, hoping Jacob couldn't see the blush she knew was permeating her cheeks. She elbowed him once more.

"Oof! Careful there," he said, rubbing his ribs. "I'm not one of your gentlemen. You bite me and I might bite back."

Why did that make her stomach flutter? It was a warning, but from the wistful way Jacob said it, it almost sounded like a promise.

"I'm not afraid of you," Anna countered, steeling her voice with as much force as she could. "And as I said, I am onto your game and will counter your move at every turn. Obviously, you didn't want to go shopping this morning. You're only here to be a thorn in the side of the couple. What are you planning to do? Walk between them the entire day? Hold your mother's hands so my father can't? It's so childish."

Jacob flashed that grin again, his one dimple making him appear almost charming. What an odd man. It was as if he were amused by all her condemnations. Anna had a laundry list of them; she surmised he'd be belly-laughing in no time. "It may be childish, but it will be effective," he replied.

"But to what end?" Anna slapped her hands on her lap before hiding them under her cloak. Not planning on this excursion, she'd left her muff in her room. Even with the sun, her hands were morphing into icicles. "Your mother is a grown woman with a grown child." She cut him a dry look. "Although how grown you are is debat—"

"Oh, I'm very grown."

"I'm not even going to acknowledge you said that," Anna quipped, ignoring his mischievous chuckle. "Back to my point—your mother does not need a guardian or another man to tell her what to do with her life. It's bad enough that women have fathers and then husbands, now they must contend with the whims of their sons? No thank you."

"For Christ's sake, give me your hand." Before Anna could jerk out of the way, Jacob snatched her hand from under her cloak and brought it up to his mouth. With wide, incredulous eyes, she watched as he shielded it with his own and proceeded to blow hot air on her fingers. Heat flamed against her skin, simultaneously shocking and prickling her. "How dare… What are you… You shouldn't be—"

"Oh, be quiet," Jacob said in between breaths. "Your hands are freezing. Don't be all proper when you're miserable."

"I… I'm not miserable," Anna replied.

Jacob merely lifted a brow in response. Then he did something even more ridiculous: he shoved her left hand into his coat pocket while cradling her right one on the top of his knee. Anna was plastered against him. And very, very warm.

"See?" he said as if they were indulging in a friendly game of cards. "I'm not such a bad chap."

It was like Anna was in the middle of a fit—she couldn't stop shaking her head. "This… this isn't right. We shouldn't—"

"How is it not right?" Jacob countered. "You were cold. I had the ability to change that. Problem solved. I'm not the devil you think I am. I like solving problems. I like helping women in distress. Believe it or not, I loved playing knight when I was a child."

Anna snorted. "You're hardly a knight. And no woman is in distress. Not your mother, and certainly not me."

Jacob swiveled his neck to her. The prickly hair along his jaw attracted her attention, and she wondered why he hadn't shaved that morning. She lowered her gaze. Looking into his eyes at this range wasn't a good thing. They were like a fog to her, and she couldn't risk getting lost in those varying shades of gray.

"But I'm not the villain, am I?" he asked. The words drifted upon her face. Intimately. Indecently. Anna could smell the mint of his tooth powder, the bitterness of his coffee, and had to actively curb the desire rising within her to taste him again.

Luckily for her, reality came to call. From the periphery of Anna's mind, she heard voices and remembered that they weren't alone. She yanked herself back to the matter at hand. "You are the villain if you continue on this path to keep our parents apart. Warming my hands doesn't change anything."

"Pity," Jacob said. He was staring at her lips. "I'll just have to keep trying."

"Do your worst, my lord ."

His nose crinkled. "Oh, I intend to, my dear. I intend to."