A Rogue No More - Lana Williams Page 0,77

not. But you will always be Annabelle, a creative individual. And sometimes change is for the better. It helps us grow as people, don’t you think?” Margaret linked her arm through Annabelle’s and eased them forward along the pathway.

“I suppose so.” New experiences should make her a better writer, shouldn’t they?

“I think it’s unlikely that you won’t want to write anymore. Not when you enjoy it so much. Maybe marrying will actually make your stories even better. You’ll meet different people and have different adventures as Mrs. Raybourne, which will give you interesting ideas.” Margaret glanced at her with a smile. “And if you meet someone you don’t like, he or she can be the murder victim in your next book.”

Annabelle chuckled and gave Margaret a one-armed squeeze. “You understand me too well.”

“No purpose will be served in worrying about what might happen.”

Annabelle pretended to scowl as she studied Margaret. “When did you become so wise?”

“I learned from you and Caroline.”

“The two of you look thick as thieves.”

Annabelle glanced over at the sound of Caroline’s voice.

“I can’t help but worry when I hear my name in your conversation.” Caroline smiled at each of them. “Your discussion appears to be a serious one.”

“Very serious,” Margaret said, causing Annabelle to brace herself for what Caroline might say about her worries. “We’re having difficulty deciding between the green gown or the pink one for the wedding ceremony.”

Annabelle gave a quiet sigh of relief that Margaret kept their conversation private. While she’d already shared some of her concerns with Caroline, she wasn’t ready to discuss the issue further.

“Definitely the pink. The color makes your skin glow,” Caroline said, making Annabelle pleased she’d shown it to her during one of Caroline’s more recent visits.

“Excellent.” Margaret nodded. “We’re all in agreement.”

“Very well. The pink it is.” Annabelle’s tension eased as they walked through the garden, a sister on either side of her, listening as the two discussed how she should wear her hair. Affection for them both filled her. She was very lucky to have them in her life. Their love and support wouldn’t change when she married. That constant was a light in her life, one she cherished dearly.

Perhaps the time had come to make certain she and Thomas were in full agreement as to what their future might entail. A fragile bud of hope filled her at the thought that mayhap she’d found the perfect man after all.

Chapter Eighteen

Thomas ran a hand through his hair in frustration as he stared out the window of his office the following day. People walked along the pavement, going about their business. Carriages and carts rolled past as well, the scene so normal that he wanted to throw something because his life was suddenly anything but. A thick knot of worry had settled in the pit of his stomach since Sir Alexander’s visit and showed no sign of easing.

He’d reviewed the knight’s threat from every angle but couldn’t find a way to escape the net the man had cast without placing others in danger.

Joining Annabelle at the garden party the previous day had been out of the question as it would’ve been impossible to hide his distress from her. When Thomas had finally left the office several hours later, a man had followed him as had another one this morning. The knowledge was deeply unsettling.

Though tempted to share what he knew with Aberland, doing so held too much risk. There was no one with whom he could speak, not when doing so might cost the life of a person he cared about.

He had yet to decide what he was going to tell Annabelle.

That question had also kept him awake late into the night caused him to rub his forehead as he stared at the street scene, wishing he could do something—anything—to put an end to Sir Alexander and the threat he posed.

The man who’d followed him to the office earlier stood across the street, waiting. No doubt his every move would be reported to the knight.

A hackney drew to a halt outside his office, and to his utter dismay, Annabelle alighted, escorted by her maid. Fear for her safety threatened to choke him. Thank goodness the man who had been following him remained where he was, showing little interest in her arrival.

A wave of remorse and regret washed over him as the pair made their way to the door. During the long night, he’d determined the only way to keep her safe as well as the others they