Aurea found herself alone. She was without clothing, food, or even water in a dry plain that stretched in all directions as far as the eye could see….
—from The Raven Prince
Anna was just about at the end of her patience. She caught herself tapping a toe and carefully stilled her foot. She stood in the stable courtyard while Edward argued with a groom about Daisy’s saddle. Apparently there was something wrong with it. What, exactly, she did not know, since no one deigned to tell her, a woman, the problem.
She sighed. For nearly a week she’d bitten her tongue and dutifully done Edward’s bidding as his secretary. Never mind that some of his orders were clearly calculated to make her lose her self-possession. Never mind that at least once a day Edward made some remark about the perfidy of women. Never mind that every time she’d happened to glance up, her eyes had collided with Edward’s staring back at her. She’d been ladylike, she’d been meek, and it was almost killing her.
Anna closed her eyes now. Patience. Patience was a virtue she must master.
“Are you falling asleep?” Edward spoke right beside her, making Anna jump and glare, a reaction he missed, as he’d already turned away. “George says the girth is too worn. We’ll have to take the phaeton instead.”
“I don’t think—” Anna started.
But he strode to where a team was being hitched to the vehicle.
Anna gaped and then trotted after him. “My lord.”
He ignored her.
“Edward,” she hissed
“Darling?” He stopped so suddenly, she nearly skidded into him.
“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” She’d said it so many times in the last week, the words had become a chant. “There isn’t room on that thing for a groom or maid.”
He glanced at the phaeton casually. Jock had already jumped into the high seat and was sitting alertly, ready for a ride. “Why would I want to take a groom or maid to look at fields?”
Anna pursed her lips. “You know very well.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“As a chaperone.” She smiled sweetly for the benefit of the stablemen.
He leaned close. “Sweetheart, I’m flattered, but even I can’t seduce you whilst driving a phaeton.”
Anna blushed. She knew that. “I—”
Edward seized her hand before she could say more, pulled her to the carriage, and tossed her on the seat. He went to help the grooms hitching the horses.
“Overbearing man,” she muttered to Jock.
The mastiff thumped his tail and laid his massive head on her shoulder, smearing it with canine drool. After another few minutes, Edward vaulted to the seat, making the carriage shake, and caught the reins. The horses stepped out, and the phaeton started forward with a jerk. Anna grabbed the back of her seat. Jock leaned into the wind, ears and jowls flapping. The phaeton rounded a corner fast, and she jostled against Edward. For a moment, her breast pressed against the hard slab of his arm. She righted herself and took a firmer hold of the side.
The carriage veered, and Anna bumped against him again. She glared, but it had no effect. Every time she let go of the seat back, the vehicle lurched and she was forced to grab it.
“Are you doing that on purpose?”
There was no answer.
“If you are shaking me about to put me in my place,” she huffed, “I do think it is rather infantile of you.”
An ebony eye glanced at her through sooty lashes.
“If you want to punish me,” she said, “I can understand, but surely wrecking the phaeton would inconvenience you as well.”
He slowed fractionally.
Anna placed her hands in her lap.
“Why would I want to punish you?” he asked.
“You know.” Really, he was the most exasperating creature when he wanted to be.
They bowled along the lane for a bit in silence. The sky began to lighten and then blush a shy crimson. Anna could see his features more clearly. They did not look confiding.
She sighed. “I am sorry, you know.”
“Sorry you were found out?” Edward’s voice was suspiciously silky.
She bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry I deceived you.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Are you implying that I’m lying?” Anna grit her teeth to hold fast to her temper, trying to remember her vow about patience.
“Why, yes, my sweet, I believe I am.” His teeth sounded as if they were being ground. “You seem to have an innate facility for lying.”
She took a deep breath. “I understand why you would think that, but please believe that I never meant to hurt you.”
Edward snorted. “Fine. Good. You were in one of the most notorious brothels in London dressed as a high-priced whore, and I happened to walk in on you. Yes, I can see that you’ve been misunderstood.”
Anna counted to ten. Then she counted to fifty. “I was waiting for you. Only you.”
That appeared to take the wind out of his sails for a bit. The sun had risen fully now. They rattled around a curve and frightened two hares in the middle of the road.
“Why?” he barked.
She’d lost the thread of the conversation. “What?”
“Why did you choose me after, what, six years of celibacy?”
“Nearer seven.”
“But you’ve been widowed six.”
Anna nodded without explanation.
She could feel Edward looking curiously at her. “Whatever the time period, why me? My scars—”
“It had nothing to do with your bloody scars!” she burst out. “The scars don’t matter, can’t you see that?”
“Then why?”
And it was her turn to be mute. The sun was very bright now, picking out every detail, leaving nothing hidden.
She tried to explain. “I believed… No. I knew we had an attraction. Then you left and I realized you were taking what you felt for me and giving it to another woman. A woman you didn’t even know. And I wanted—needed—” Anna threw up her hands in frustration. “I wanted to be the one you-you swived with.”
Edward choked. She couldn’t tell if he was appalled, sickened, or simply laughing at her.
Her temper suddenly came to a boil. “You were the one who left for London. You were the one who decided to-to tup another woman. You were the one who turned away from me. From us. Who is the greater sinner? I will no longer—urp!”
She gulped her words as Edward pulled the horses up so abruptly that they half reared. Jock was nearly catapulted from the seat. Anna opened her lips in alarm, but before she could protest, her mouth was covered by his. He thrust his tongue into her mouth without preamble. She tasted coffee as he stroked along her tongue, opening her lips farther for his access. Blunt fingers massaged the nape of her neck. She was surrounded by the musky scent of a man in his prime. Slowly, reluctantly, his mouth left hers. His tongue tenderly licked along her bottom lip as if in regret.