Cocky Mister (Regency Cocky Gents #3) - Annabelle Anders Page 0,79

think I’d be happy enough as Mrs. Rock Chester… just so long as he doesn’t hate me…”

This time, when her sister and sister-in-law met one another’s eyes, they smiled smugly at one another.

“All we have to do now,” Charley said, “is figure out how to convince Mister Spencer that you no longer care that he’s not a duke.”

It sounded impossible.

Tabetha yawned, suddenly feeling the effects of everything that had happened, in addition to a mostly sleepless night.

“Tomorrow,” Bethany said. “We have the entire journey to come up with a plan. But for tonight, I think you need a good night’s sleep.” She rose. “As do I.”

Bethany was right. “I don’t even know what chamber I’m in.”

“First one on the right.” Charley assisted Tabetha into a dressing gown, placed a sleeping Archie in her arms, and then walked both her and Bethany to the door. “Emily is waiting for you there.”

“Chase and I are at the opposite end.” Bethany stifled a yawn of her own as she and Tabetha stepped into the corridor.

“Thank you for everything. Both of you.” Tabetha hugged Bethany and then Charley, mindful not to squish Archie.

Before the door closed behind her, Westerley turned a corner and sauntered across to join them. “Good night, little sister.”

“Good night, Westerley.” Bethany waved behind her as she marched off to join her husband in their chamber. But when Tabetha went to leave, Westerley effectively blocked her way. He looked as though he’d taken full advantage of the flask of whiskey Charley had sent down. And then some.

And he looked tired, but he also looked… relieved.

Tabetha watched him hesitantly, half-expecting him to offer up a biting reprimand.

Instead, he reached out and drew her into his arms. “You little fool.” He squeezed her tight, waking Archie, who promptly leapt out of her arms and flew back into the room behind Charley.

“My cat!” She squirmed but only half-heartedly.

“You and Spencer deserve one another,” he growled.

“I hope so,” she murmured against his shirt. “But I don’t want you to hate me over all of this.”

Her brother drew back, looking surprised. “I could never hate you. Never.” He searched her eyes. “You know that, don’t you?”

Did she? “I’m not going to be a duchess… not even a baroness, like Bethany.”

Her brother slid a glance toward Charley, who was leaning on the doorframe watching the two of them with a sweet smile, and then he flicked his gaze back to Tabetha. “Do you really think that matters to any of us? All that matters, the only thing that matters to me, is that Spencer makes you happy.”

He would. Oh, she hoped he would.

“And Mother?”

“Will be ecstatic that you’ve landed one of Ravensdale’s sons.” He laughed. “Oh, Tabitha. Father never should have gone on so much about this duchess business.”

Jules had seen it too?

So Bethany was right. Something in Tabetha’s chest released and in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to find Stone and beg his forgiveness. He was the only person in the world for her! She loved him!

My husband.

“Now off to bed.” He released her, stepped back, and dropped an arm around Charley’s shoulders. “We’ll watch until you’re inside with Emily. Because, in case you didn’t realize it, you’re wearing your night clothes in public.” He leaned close to stare into her eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with my fussy little sister?”

“Go to bed, Westerley.” She poked him in the shoulder and then pivoted away, eager to sleep on a mattress, with a roof over her head, preferably with her husband. If only she knew where to find him. Perhaps if she went downstairs—

“Don’t go traipsing around looking for him, Tabby,” her brother warned, almost as though he could read her mind. “Just stay put in your chamber, can you do that?”

She scowled over her shoulder, pretending not to know what he was talking about. “Take good care of my cat tonight.”

“Goodnight, Tabetha.”

She shook her head. “Goodnight, Jules.”

She opened the door of her chamber and stepped inside. Her first thought was that Stone would be angry that it hadn’t been locked. Her second, that Emily must be asleep already.

Not a single candle remained lit.

Which was odd… The door clicked behind her.

She glanced around, and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw Emily was sitting on a chair tucked in the corner, tied up and gagged, staring at her with eyes that were terrified but also apologetic.

“What—? Who—? Oh, Emily—” A foul-smelling hand covered her mouth, cutting off her words,

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