Page 104 of If the Slipper Fits
Anna blinked.
“Never you mind, darling Anna. I insist you put all of this from your mind for the next little while and take a well-earned rest. We will sort this mess out, together, as a family. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Zeke, Caden and the earl have already concocted a plan.”
Without further ado, she hastened toward the chamber door, throwing over her shoulder, “I confess I can not wait to discuss all of this with Zeke and compare my new knowledge with his.”
Her green eyes twinkled with mischief. “Later, I shall send a maid to help you with your toilette, then collect you myself to escort you to the dining hall. This old castle has so many twists and turns, you’d never find your way on your own.”
Before Anna could tell her not to go to the trouble of sending a maid, she was gone, door closed behind her, leaving Anna to wonder just where she’d gone wrong in her story-telling. She’d been forthright—mostly.
Yet, Lady Kitty believed Caden intended to marry her. If she only knew what had transpired between them at the inn, she could have no doubt whatsoever.
Anna’s breath caught in her throat. How could she have been so stupid? How had she missed the obvious? Lady Kitty was right. Wrong about Caden’s feelings, but right about his intention.
He did plan to marry her.
He’d said nothing of the sort in the carriage ride to Chissington Hall, shocking her with his blithe announcement of their supposed engagement. She’d assumed he’d made the claim out of expedience.
She paced the elegant chamber, wringing her hands. The idiotic, wonderful, too-noble-for-his-own-good man intended to marry her. But not because he had affection for her as his sister-in-law supposed.
Anna knew he didn’t love her. He’d said nothing of tender emotions. He’d spoken only of wanting her, craving her. But that was a far cry from love.
He’d marry her out of duty, honor, responsibility.
She could not allow it—even if the thought ofnotmarrying him now left her feeling as if someone had carved her very heart out of her chest.
Chapter Twenty
Anna came awake slowly. She lay atop the comfortable, down-covered bed in her fairytale bedroom suite.
She’d left the drapes open to allow the breeze off the river to sweeten the air, then lain awake, heart heavy, mind spinning, certain she would never sleep. But she had slept. She wondered for how long. The slant of light across the room told her dusk was nearly upon them.
A bone deep longing for Caden, for his presence, his smile, welled up inside her. But he wasn’t hers, no matter that he’d willingly sacrifice himself for her for the sake of his honor.Not hers. She needed to get that through her head.
A soft scratch sounded on the ante-chamber door. The promised maid, come to help her dress for the evening meal? It must be later than she thought.
“Come,” she called loud enough to be heard in the hall, and dragged herself into a sitting position.
A moment later. Caden’s dark blond head appeared in the doorway, and her heart lurched.
He stepped inside the bedchamber, closed the adjoining door behind him, and leaned against it, arms clasped behind his back.
“You have no idea how hard it was to get here undetected.”
She swung her legs over the side of the mattress, her heart in her throat. He shouldn’t be here. She ought to insist he depart this instant.
Instead, the sight of him, freshly shaven, dressed in formal dinner attire turned her bones to jelly and her brain to mush.
“I see you had a nice cat-nap.” His eyes did a thorough sweep, starting at the top of her head, moving down to her stocking-covered toes, then eased back up to her face. An appreciative smile curved his lips.
Gooseflesh sprouted over her body as if he’d run a fingertip down her spine.
With effort, she found her voice. “Should you be here?”
He cocked his head and, in no hurry at all, closed the distance between them. “You don’t wish to see me? I find that rather surprising.”
The mattress dipped as he lowered himself to sit beside her, close enough that their hips brushed, and her stomach did a neat somersault.
“Your hair looks lovely, all sleep-tousled and mussed.”
