Earl Lessons by Valerie Bowman

Chapter Thirty-Three

Apparently, one of the advantages of being a nobleman was the ability to procure a special marriage license from the archbishop of Canterbury. In fact, Worthington sent for it immediately and it arrived not a day later by special messenger. An excruciating day in which David remained in his bedchamber while the rest of the wedding guests (save for Lady Angelina and Annabelle) packed up and left, all with the story of how Lady Annabelle Bellham was finally brought to the altar by gossip, of all sordid things.

According to Marianne, Lord Murdock had left in a raging fit, Lady Angelina was beside herself with glee, and Annabelle was holed up in her own bedchamber not speaking to anyone.

David couldn’t stand it any longer. He refused to marry Annabelle without at least speaking to her first. The many notes he’d sent to her room via footmen went unanswered until he finally marched over and knocked on her door. The damage was already done. It wasn’t as if he could ruin her reputation again.

Lady Angelina answered the door on the first knock. When she saw the look on David’s face, she turned to Annabelle and said, “I think I’ll just go for a walk around Lord Worthington’s gardens.”

“No, Mama. Wait!” Annabelle called.

But it was too late. The older lady took off down the corridor before Annabelle had a chance to say another word.

David watched her go, surprised by her speed. He shook his head and stepped into Annabelle’s room. He was thankful for the privacy, but careful to leave the door open for propriety’s sake…not that it mattered any longer.

Annabelle was standing near the fireplace, wearing a pink gown. Her clothing and her hair looked simple and sweet, but her face wore a thunderous expression.

“You didn’t answer any of my notes,” he said, immediately wanting to kick himself for saying something so obvious. Why did he always say obvious things in front of her?

“I didn’t want to speak with you,” she clipped.

He had to smile. That was obvious too. “I’m certain your mother has told you, but Lord Worthington has procured a special license for us to marry. The vicar is coming in the morning.”

“Yes, Mama told me.” Her voice was devoid of emotion.

“And?” he prompted.

“And what?” She flashed him an inscrutable look.

“Do you intend to go through with it? Do you intend to marry me?” Anxiety tinged his voice.

Annabelle laughed a humorless laugh. “You ask as if I have a choice in the matter.”

“You do, Annabelle. Of course you do. I would never force you into a marriage you don’t want, no matter the circumstances.”

Another humorless laugh. She stepped toward him, her arms tightly crossed over her chest. “Spoken just like a man. You have a choice. You could leave me and my reputation in tatters. I’ve seen what scandals like this do to women. I’d be an outcast. Mama and Beau would be treated like vermin. I have no choice.”

David hung his head. “I’m sorry it has to be like this.”

Annabelle’s voice was filled with anger. “I suppose next you’ll tell me if this had happened in Brighton, it would be different. Brighton doesn’t have the strict rules of the ton. Go on. Tell me.”

David shook his head. “I’ve nothing to say. The truth is, if I’d been discovered in your bedchamber in Brighton, we’d be planning a wedding right now also. Only the archbishop wouldn’t be involved and there’d be longer to wait.”

Annabelle turned away from him and moved toward the window. Her voice was low and came through clenched teeth. “I want to make something quite clear. We shall be married in name only. You will not own my body and you will not own me!”

* * *

The door shut behind David,and Annabelle turned to the empty room with tears welling in her eyes. Her entire body was shaking. She wrapped her arms around her middle. He hadn’t said a word. She had just told him they’d be married in name only, and he hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t argued with her, hadn’t asked her why. Was that because he had no intention of living that way, or was he so filled with guilt he didn’t want to argue with her at the moment? She had no way of knowing, but she did know one thing…he would not harm her. She would not allow it. And if he didn’t touch her, if they weren’t intimate, she would not give him children whom he could ever hurt, either.

Annabelle walked to her bed on legs that felt like water and nearly collapsed atop it. The situation they were in was not entirely David’s fault. She knew that. She shouldn’t have played such a dangerous game with her body and her emotions, let alone his. But ever since she’d heard Lady Elspeth’s shriek in the corridor, Annabelle had been racked with soul-numbing fear. It had invaded her entire body, leaving her numb and shaky. First, she’d been fearful that a scandal would ensue. Then, when everyone had come running, that fear had been replaced by the prospect of being an outcast from the only Society she’d known. Later, when she’d been huddled in bed with Mama stroking her head and telling her everything would be all right, Annabelle had been afraid there was no way out of getting married. And late this morning, after she’d nearly turned into a puddle going through almost every possible emotion, she’d been afraid that she might actually want to marry David. And that was the most frightening thought of them all.

But when David had come to the door this afternoon and demanded to see her, the overwhelming fear that had been coursing through her for hours and hours had turned immediately into white-hot anger. He didn’t even necessarily deserve her anger, but she hadn’t been able to control it. All the fears she’d pushed aside since childhood had turned to rage and come roiling through her body and out her mouth, demanding that David agree to a marriage in name only so she wouldn’t have to be petrified of the future.

Sobs racked her body, and she buried her face in the mattress. She was weak. As all cowards were. Instead of telling him she felt something for him—instead of telling him she just might love him, even—she’d lashed out at him and blamed him for their predicament. Oh, she was the worst sort of coward. She wasn’t even brave enough to tell the truth.