A Hellion in Her Bed (28 page)

Hugh sat sprawled in a chair in the parlor. He didn’t have a glass in his hand, but he looked weary, as if he’d been sitting there for quite a while. Pushing up from the chair, he came toward her with a grim expression. “Where have you been?” he repeated.

“At the brewery,” she said.

That seemed to throw him off guard. “And what were you doing there?”

“I figured I’d better prepare for the meeting tomorrow. We had no time to gather information before, so I had to do it tonight.” Thank heaven she’d spent a couple of hours before the dinner with Mr. Walters, pulling out files and laying out records they might need for the meeting. She could claim to have been going over those.

Lord, how she hated the lies. She hated lying to Hugh. She hated lying to Geordie. She hated lying
about
Geordie. She was sick to death of subterfuge and sneaking around. It would have to stop soon. She couldn’t go on like this.

“Why?” she asked. “Where did you think I’d gone?”

Hugh dragged a heavy hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Annie. I thought perhaps you and his lordship …” His shoulders slumped. “It was foolish. I ought to know better by now.” He cast her a wan smile. “Don’t mind me. It’s been a
long day, and I couldn’t sleep. When I knocked on your door, and you weren’t there, I got worried.”

She remained silent. He was already so close to guessing the truth, she dared not let him guess any more. Or he would surely strangle Jarret with his bare hands.

“But you shouldn’t be going to the brewery late at night alone,” he went on. “It’s not safe.”

She eyed him askance. “I’ve been going there for years, and no one’s there at night anyway.”

Hugh frowned. “If a man were to follow you in there, you could be hurt.” He stepped up close to her. “Annie, I know that you’ve had to take up the burden of the place far too much lately, but that’s going to change. I want to do right by you and Sissy and the children. If even Geordie has noticed …” He squared his shoulders. “I’m going to look after you all better, I promise. And that means no more going to the brewery alone at night, you understand? I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Now, Hugh …”

“I mean it. Swear to me you won’t be traipsing off about town alone. It’s not safe, even in Burton. Promise me.”

Frustration knotted her insides. Why did Hugh have to choose
now
to remember he had a family?

She wouldn’t be able to meet Jarret if Hugh was going to prowl the house late at night, watching for her. But he’d taken her in, and given her son his name. She couldn’t repay that by shaming him or Sissy.

She sighed. “I promise.”

“Good,” he said, flashing her a hesitant smile. “Good.” He held out his arm to her. “Now come, we should get a little sleep before we have to meet with Lord Jarret. Don’t want to let him get the better of us in this bargain, eh?”

A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her throat that she swiftly squelched. If Hugh only knew how close they’d come to not having a bargain at all. Yet another secret she must keep.

As she slid into her bed later, it dawned on her that she’d have to tell Jarret about the change in their plans. Pressure built in her chest. What if he changed his mind about staying?

No, she mustn’t think that. He’d said that being with her was not a condition for his help, and she believed him.

A shaky breath escaped her as she stared up at the ornate plaster ceiling medallion. She wanted to see him again. Wanted to feel his body meld with hers, feel his heart beat against his breast. She fell asleep remembering the touch of his hand on her cheek.

The next morning was a frantic one. She’d thought of a way to see Jarret alone for a few minutes, but other than that, she had little time to prepare for the meeting. By ten o’clock, when they all assembled at the office in Lake Ale, she was exhausted.

Jarret looked as tired as she felt. He mentioned playing cards late into the night to excuse his weariness, but she could hardly look at him for fear of giving something away.

Like how it felt to be in the same room where they’d last embraced. How it hurt to see the little door leading to their private meeting place and know that it had been their last time together.

“As I told Miss Lake at the dinner,” Jarret said, “I’d like to see Lake Ale’s books before we go any further. I need to be sure that you have the capacity to follow through on your proposal.”

Hugh’s startled gaze swung to her. “Annie, you didn’t say anything about his wanting to see the books.”

She feigned bewilderment. “Didn’t I? I could swear I did. I’m sorry, last night is a bit of a blur. I got little sleep.”

“I dare say.” Hugh glanced over at Jarret, who was watching them both warily. “My fool of a sister came up here to work on gathering information for you, my lord. At night, alone. I told her it’s not safe, but she doesn’t listen.”

She forced a smile. “My brother was waiting to chastise me when I came in the house. He’s so solicitous of my welfare.”

Jarret’s eyes gave away none of what he was thinking. “I can see that,” he said noncommittally.

“I’m not sure if I like the idea of your seeing the books, my lord,” Hugh said. “You’re our competitor—”

“Who is soon to be a partner of sorts. I need more information before I can make an informed decision on how we should structure this arrangement.”

“I see no reason for his lordship not to look at them,” Mr. Walters told Hugh. “He’s offering us an opportunity we can’t afford to pass up. And we have nothing to hide.”

Hugh pursed his lips, then sighed. “I suppose not. Very well, we’ll have to fetch them.” He frowned at Annabel. “I wish you’d told me before. I would have brought them with me. Now we’ll have to go back to the house, since they’re in the safe.”

Exactly.
“Do you want to take Mr. Walters? He can help you carry them.”

“One of the footmen will help me.”

“They’re both at the market with Sissy. We needed several things after having been gone so long.” And she’d suggested to Sissy that this would be the perfect time for that.

Hugh’s eyes narrowed as he glanced from her to Jarret. “You’d better come, too, Annie.”

“Don’t be absurd. I can begin discussing some of the
material with his lordship. And it’s not as if he and I need a chaperone.” She gestured to the window behind them. “We have at least twenty men working in the brewery who can see us at any given moment.”

Her brother hesitated, then conceded the point with a faint nod. “All right, then.” He rose. “Come with me, Walters. We’d best go fetch those books.”

As soon as they were gone, she slid into the chair behind the desk opposite where Jarret was sitting. “We only have a few minutes,” she said in a low voice.

“I wondered if you engineered this.” His eyes filled with concern. “Your brother caught you sneaking in last night?”

“Yes. And he made me promise I wouldn’t come here at night alone anymore.”

Scowling, Jarret settled back in his chair. “I see.”

“It’s not what I want, either. My brother has his faults, but he and Sissy treat me well, and I can’t shame them by having them think I’m … well …”

“Letting me bed you.”

She nodded. “If Hugh even guessed the truth, he’d call you out. And that would do none of us any good.”

“So we can’t—”

“No. I don’t see any way.” Unless Jarret chose to court her, which he wasn’t going to do. And even if he did, she couldn’t marry him. What would she do about Geordie? “It’s probably just as well. When you leave, it will end anyway.”

“It doesn’t have to,” he said.

She stared at him, her pulse jumping into a staccato rhythm. “What do you mean?”

Eyes the color of the sea locked with hers. “You could come to London with me. I could find you a position at Plumtree.”

Her heart sank. “A position at Plumtree? Or a position in your bed?”

His gaze grew shuttered. “Both, if you wish.”

“You’re offering to make me your mistress.”

“No, I …” He glanced away, his jaw tightening. “I’m offering you a chance to get away from your family. To have your own life. You’re a fine brewster—you could brew at Plumtree. And from time to time, if you wanted to …” He met her gaze again, his face a picture of belligerence. “You wouldn’t have to be my mistress, but why not take a lover if you wish?”

She fought to hide her disappointment. Of course he would offer that. When had he ever offered more? “I don’t need a lover, Jarret. And I have no desire to get away from my family or Lake Ale.”

He leaned forward, then caught himself, glancing behind him at the brewery. “How much can they see from out there?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to touch you, damn it.”

And she
wanted
him to touch her. How hopelessly foolish she was. “They can’t see below your shoulders,” she admitted.

“Good.” He reached over the desk to clasp her hands in his. “You deserve better than a life as the poor relation. You’re a beautiful, vibrant woman. If you’re not interested in marriage, why not live your life as you please?”

“I’m already living my life as I please.”

His dark gaze burned into her. “Really? Lying in your bed alone at night with only your memories for company? Watching someone else’s children?”

She met his gaze steadily. “And whose children would I be watching otherwise—yours?”

That seemed to stun him. Releasing her hands, he leaned back in the chair, his face a mix of anger and uncertainty.

“You see, Jarret?” she said softly. “It can’t work. We want different things. You want to follow the wind where it leads, and I want to dig my roots deep. You’re a river, and I’m a tree. The tree can never follow the river, and the river can never stay with the tree.”

He let out a coarse oath. “So this is the end for us. Is that really what you want?” His booted foot touched her slipper beneath the desk, and he stroked his leg along hers in a sensual caress that made her blood heat. “No more nights in each other’s arms. No more trips to heaven.”

“Of course that’s not what I want!” she cried, frustrated by his inability to see beyond his own desires. “But I won’t throw my life away on a man who shares nothing of himself with me, who has no aim beyond thwarting his grandmother’s plans for him, and who thinks that spending his days in frivolous pursuits will keep him happy.”

“Happiness is fickle,” he growled. “Look at you—you thought you’d be happy when you gave yourself to Rupert. Instead, it ruined your life. Our only choice is to seize the pleasures of life where we can. Hoping for more is a fruitless endeavor.”

“So says the river.” She flashed him a sad smile. “Not only can the tree not follow the river, but if it bathes in it, it rots and dies. I won’t go to London to rot, Jarret.”

Striving not to show how much he’d wounded her, she rose to gather up the papers they would need for the meeting. “My brother will be back soon, and when he returns he’ll need to see that we’ve been productive while he was gone, or he’ll get suspicious. So let’s review the analysis of costs that I had Mr. Walters put together.”

The silence of his displeasure was a palpable pressure in the room, but she ignored it. When he was gone, she still had a
life to live. She wasn’t going to abandon her son or her family simply because he wanted to play with her for a while. Let him go to his London whores for that.

The thought shot a sharp pain through her breast. But this was only temporary.
He
was only temporary. And she refused to let him ensnare her so totally that she lost herself.

J
arret had thought for sure that Annabel would relent in the days that followed. Every day, he expected her to get him alone again to say she’d changed her mind, that she would meet him for a night of mutual pleasure. Every evening in the inn, he half expected her to show up in his room.

She never did.

The rational part of him understood why. She lived the life of a respectable woman. The community seemed to hold her in high regard, even if her neighbors sometimes didn’t understand her efforts with her brother’s brewery. And although Hugh Lake hadn’t taken care of his family as he should, they were closely knit and clearly fond of each other.

He was the interloper. For the first time in his life, he resented that. He hated having Annabel treat him like a business acquaintance when they’d been so much more to each other.

They could still be so much more, if she weren’t so stubborn. All right, so he shouldn’t have offered to take her with him to London. That had been beyond the pale, asking her
to lower herself when she had no cause to do so.

But damn it, he wanted to be with her again! And again, as often as he could. Worse yet, he knew she wanted to be with
him.
In unguarded moments, he saw it in the way she looked at him.

Since she made damned sure they were never alone, there was no chance of blatantly seducing her, and she cut off his more subtle efforts whenever he attempted them. If he brushed her fingers as she handed him some papers, she stopped handing him papers. If he stroked her leg under the table, she trod on his foot.

As the days wore on, he saw less and less of her, since she was busy overseeing the brewing of the pale ale. Meanwhile, he, Lake, and Walters continued to hammer out a contract that suited both companies, so he was increasingly occupied with that.

Thank God he got to see her in the evenings, which were spent with the Lakes. Their dinners had begun as strained affairs, because Lake had been resentful of his presence. But as they’d come to know each other over the negotiations, Lake had relaxed, and now treated him like an honored guest.

After dinner every night he and Lake retired to their port, but the man drank little, no doubt aware of Jarret’s eyes on him. They spent only a short while away from the ladies before joining them in the parlor, where the evening generally consisted of reading or playing charades. Every night he suffered the torture of watching Annabel, knowing that he couldn’t touch her.

Tonight it was even worse. He and Lake had made serious headway on their agreement. Tomorrow they had a few more details to take care of, and then there was no longer any reason for him to stay. Indeed, he’d already received one
letter from Gran chiding him for neglecting the business in London. By the day after tomorrow, he could be on the road.