Cocky Mister (Regency Cocky Gents #3) - Annabelle Anders Page 0,71

more if you want. Do you want children?”

She inched her head up and down. Good lord, she still kept two of her favorite dolls in her bedchamber.

Her bedchamber at Well’s Place felt like another world.

“I want all of that,” she admitted. Only… It came with a pricking sensation of loss. No, it was more than a pricking sensation. It was more of a vacuum.

There was a reason she’d been willing to marry a vile duke, and she couldn’t remember why.

“What?” He was watching her now. “You want all of that but…”

He knew!

Not that she had her memory, but he knew about that need.

“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly. “I love you. I cannot think of anything that will make me happier than what you’ve just described…”

“But…” His eyes shuttered.

She fisted a hand to her abdomen. “I’m missing something.”

His jaw clenched, and the barriers that had fallen last night went up again. This is how she remembered him from before: hard, cynical, and defensive.

But that wasn’t him at all. Had he only seemed that way before because of how she’d treated him?

The man she’d known over the past few days was the real Stone Spencer, the person he was with his family and friends.

“I—”

Thundering hooves of an approaching rider kept her from saying more.

“Spencer! Tabetha!” The rider was familiar.

“By God, it’s Westerley.” Stone stood up, waving. “Ho, there!”

Tabetha’s heart dropped. With her brother’s appearance, all of their lies were going to be exposed one way or another.

When Stone had risen from the bench, he’d dropped her hand, and, once he lowered himself back onto the seat, he noticeably did not reach for it again.

In fact, despite the small space, he managed to insert an inch of distance between them.

Was their love one of the lies that would be exposed?

This sensation of loss was far greater than the one she’d mentioned to him a minute before. This one could haunt her forever.

This one… was real.

Before her brother’s horse had even come to a halt, he was on the ground and swooping her off the gig and into his arms. His hat all but covered his thick brown hair, and his blue eyes were reminiscent of her father.

“Tabetha, thank God!” His expression was one of palpable relief.

She buried her face in his coat, fighting back unexpected tears at his familiar and reassuring scent. He was going to be angry with her but he was her brother first.

“Jules!” She sniffed. “I’m so sorry!”

“Damn you.” He squeezed her tight and if she didn’t know better, she’d imagine that her somewhat reserved older brother was fighting tears of his own.

“I’m sorry.” Those were the only words that seemed even partially adequate.

He leaned back, assessing her well-being. “How could you do something so stupid! Do you know what kind of trouble you’ve made for everyone?”

Nope, definitely not tears. The shining in his eyes must be anger.

“Don’t.” Stone’s objection demanded both of their attention. “She’s been through enough already.”

Tabetha glanced back and saw that Stone had descended from the gig as well. He stood his ground firmly, feet planted wide, arms folded across his chest.

Westerley nodded. “You were right.” Her brother loosened his hold on her and then tilted his head, making that familiar horrid cracking sound with his neck. “That doesn’t mean she’s going to escape the consequences for what she’s done.”

“Just wait until you and I can speak privately. There are things...” Stone’s words trailed off. “Did you cross paths with Culpepper?” He turned all business.

“Briefly. But enough to ensure that he won’t be a problem. And in London, Blackheart’s men are waiting for his return.”

Stone stared hard and then dropped a solid nod in her brother’s direction. Tabetha felt as though an entire conversation was occurring above her head without them having to utter a single word.

“Why won’t he be a problem?” She stepped back from her brother. “You didn’t challenge him? Promise me you haven’t committed yourself to another duel!”

But rather than hear her brother’s answer, she realized too late that Stone was staring at her and looking stunned. “You remembered,” he said. “You know.”

“I’d gladly challenge Culpepper but Charley would have my hide.” Her brother ignored Stone to answer her, referring to his wife. “Your lies, sneaking away alone like that, however, without a maid, or telling anyone where you’ve gone, is going to leave your dowry ten thousand pounds lighter.”

“You paid him off?” She eyed stone warily, overwhelmed at having to deal with both of them simultaneously.

She would have much preferred to

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