Cocky Earl - Annabelle Anders Page 0,93

most of the night in his study drinking and observing perhaps what must surely be the longest chess game in history. While Stone and Greys checkmated one another more times than any of them could count, Chase and Mantis wagered with one another over ridiculous outcomes that had absolutely nothing to do with the actual game.

Disheartened, Jules merely settled in as an observer.

And of course, they’d not kept their jibes to themselves. Why would they?

Jules had disappeared for most of the day with a beautiful woman. It was their God-given duty to harass him for doing something so patently foolish.

Helped along by the loosening effects of the remaining scotch, Jules had given them the pertinent details of his present predicament. For the most part, they refrained from offering any advice. But leave it to Stone to toss out a philosophical question for all of them to consider.

“Honor your father’s dying decree or honor the love of your life?” He’d bent over, cue in hand, and sent the colorful wooden balls in all directions.

“Well, the answer to that question is an easy one,” Mantis supplied. “You honor the one who’s alive.”

All of them searched each other’s gazes upon hearing Mantis’ declaration. The concept was a startling one.

Because honor was not something any of them would ever be careless with. It was what made each of them who they were. It gave them the ability to hold their head high. It allowed them some justification for the entitlement of their position—even if only to themselves.

“That begs the other part of the question then.” Stone had walked around the table and then eyed Jules. “Is she the love of your life?”

These men knew Jules better than anyone else. They lived in the same world, and for the most part, dealt with the same expectations.

Stone, although an earl’s son, didn’t live with the same pressures. He was the second son of the Earl of Ravensdale. A man, incidentally, who hadn’t inherited until later in life and for years raised his children not far from Cheapside.

Stone tended to see things a little differently than the others because of his unique position.

Jules echoed the question, already knowing the answer. Was Charley the love of his life? A myriad of images, of her laughing, drinking whiskey, helping him drag the horses through the storm, and then the deep humming of satisfaction she’d breathed in his ear as he’d buried himself in her sweet warmth.

Damn straight she was.

Brightley could wave about contracts signed by the king himself, and Jules would find some way to circumvent it.

He’d been lucky enough to find her. He damn well wasn’t going to lose her without one hell of a fight.

Jules would come to her. Charley had no doubt. He would tell her about the contract and then he would explain his decision. Her imagination refused to cease mulling over the two scenarios she faced, that he faced, denying her a single moment of peace. Either he was going to honor the contract and marry Felicity, leaving Charley to face her grandparents as a ruined woman and possibly have the scandal follow her back to America. Or he was going to insist upon marrying her and live the remainder of his life feeling like he was less than a man.

Either option, as far as she was concerned, was unacceptable.

Unless he loved Felicity, but she could not believe that. He would not lie to her. He’d been honest with her from the very beginning.

But there was always the possibility that he had changed his mind.

When soft knocking sounded at the door, her suddenly racing heart had her leaping to her feet.

She didn’t wait for Daisy to cross the room to answer, or for Mrs. Crabtree to set aside her knitting, but rushed forward in a most unladylike fashion not caring what either of them thought.

It was not, however, Jules who awaited her on the other side of the door.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Miss Jackson. My son has other responsibilities to attend to this morning. But I would have a word with you, woman to woman. Walk with me.”

The countess’s voice sounded pleasant enough, and her smile appeared kind, but combined with her words and a calculating glint in her eyes, Charley braced herself for the conversation to come.

Julian hadn’t come to her yet. Surely, he would not have sent his mother?

Without inviting her hostess inside of her chamber, Charley turned and nodded at Daisy.

“Mrs. Crabtree may remain with your maid.” Lady Westerley gestured