Cocky Earl - Annabelle Anders Page 0,88

by the ease with which he carried himself, but she’d had no idea exactly how fit. Muscles rippled as he bent over to retrieve something from the floor.

“Where the devil are my blasted trousers?” He turned and sent her a wicked glance before tossing her chemise onto the bed. “You’d better put this on or we’ll never make it back to the manor.”

Suddenly, the thought of going outside, of riding through the mud and having to face all the guests at Westerley Manor was almost too much to bear. Charley drew the light linen covering over her head but then clasped her arms around her knees.

“I wish we could stay here forever.” The fire was dying down, though, and now that the storm had passed, it was becoming apparent that the sun would soon set.

Jules tucked his shirt down into his breeches but paused to meet her gaze. “I do too, but soon enough, we’ll have a lifetime to be together.”

His confidence was reassuring but a shiver of doubt crept up her spine. It wasn’t as easy as that, was it? One didn’t simply meet a person, fall in love, and live happily together forever, did they?

Do they?

Chapter 25

A SNAG

“You have a problem, my darling son.” His mother’s voice halted him as he turned in the direction of his chamber.

Jules was soaked through to the skin for the second time that day, and after having safely delivered Charley to her chamber, all he wanted was a hot bath and a good meal. And afterward, he would announce his betrothal to Charley.

“I realize our absence will have been noted.” He turned, his boots making a cringeworthy squishing sound as he did so. “But you needn’t worry.” The road had been so slippery and muddy that twice he’d had to climb down and lead the animals on foot. They should have remained at the mill and he’d chastised himself more than once for putting her in danger.

His reassurance did nothing to relieve the concern on his mother’s face. “Precisely why we must speak now.”

Jules gestured with one hand to indicate the condition of his clothing. “Can it not wait until I change out of these wet clothes?” That was when he noticed her hands clenched together. Hell and damnation. “I’ll meet you in my study in ten minutes.”

She nodded in agreement.

Jules rushed into his chamber, eager to put the discussion with his mother behind him. Whatever she had to say would be secondary to all that had transpired with Charley today. He’d not allow anything to steal this euphoric feeling that had eluded him for so long.

Charley had agreed to marry him. He’d made love to her. He hadn’t expected this sensation that they had somehow become a part of one another.

He’d waited his entire life to become whole. He’d waited his entire life for her.

Mr. Robbins had Jules dressed in dry clothing and sitting in his study in just under a quarter of an hour.

Leaning back in his chair, Jules closed his eyes, reliving moments he would never forget. His heart and his mind quite agreed that meeting Charley would forever be one of the most momentous occasions of his life.

He could hardly wait to begin living it with her—spending his days making her happy. Protecting her. Spending his nights inside of her, pleasuring her.

As the door pushed open to admit his mother, Jules sat forward, not really caring that he likely was wearing something of a lovesick expression on his face.

That was, until Lord Brightly followed her inside.

The older man, who had always seemed more of a distant uncle to him than a family acquaintance, strode directly to the large desk Jules was sitting behind and slapped down a collection of papers.

With barely a glance, the familiar scrawl of his father’s signature at the bottom of the page had Jules feeling as though he was falling. Falling from the highest pinnacle of his life and landing in a pit of despair.

As he leaned forward and skimmed the contents of the first page, he didn’t only feel like he was in a pit, but that the past was shoveling dirt into that pit, covering him.

He was breathing and yet somehow no air filled his lungs.

The date at the bottom sent a sharp pain shooting from his heart. His father had drawn the document up and signed it the night before the duel—the night before he’d been mortally wounded. While Jules had been drinking and whoring.

“There was an agreement,” Brightly announced unnecessarily.