Maid Under The Mistletoe (The Mapleton Family Saga #1) - Annabelle Anders Page 0,16

her eyes answering the question he’d not uttered aloud.

“Congratulations are in order, then?” She smiled weakly.

This was not what he wanted!

What could he say to this lady? Since first setting eyes upon her he’d wanted something… He’d felt as though he’d known her forever, and yet he yearned to begin to learn everything about her.

“Are you… growling?”

Anthony glanced up at the odd question. But, oh, hell. Daphne had accused him of growling for as long as he could remember.

But Miss Drake was laughing. It was a joyous sound that rivalled sleigh bells.

“You were!” she accused. “You were growling! I asked you if congratulations were in order and you growled at me! Like a giant boar!”

How could he not join in her amusement? Drawing one hand through his hair, he smiled sheepishly into those lovely eyes of hers. “And what if I was?”

“Growling generally does not convey pleasure.” She sobered.

At the reminder of what had occurred not thirty minutes earlier, another growl escaped—this one noticeable even to himself. “I did not intend to ask her in that moment. The question was hypothetical. I was asking her if… If I were to ask. I was not asking the question itself, per se.” He moaned and then dropped onto the bench Charlotte had just vacated.

“You kissed her.” Her voice was near. He didn’t need to look up to know that she’d lowered herself to sit beside him. He could feel her presence. She exerted an attraction unlike any he’d known.

He’d hoped that kissing Miss Fairchild would ignite something similar inside of him. It had done the opposite. “I had thought perhaps…” Anthony glanced sideways and forgot what he’d been going to say.

Why this woman? Charlotte Drake was a servant for God’s sake! Frustration turned to outright anger. By no means had he chosen Miss Fairchild lightly. He’d found himself backed into a corner by circumstances beyond his control. Not for a million years would he marry in such a calculated manner if conditions did not demand it. He would not be the person to suffer if the betrothal fell through. That would fall to others–to tenants and workers. Tenant families.

“Do you know how many families lost their homes in that infernal fire? How many merchants lost their shops in addition to their inventories? I’ve poured every penny I can into rebuilding that village. Can you begin to understand that? It’s not as though I have a choice...” His voice sounded gruffer than normal. It didn’t make sense that he should express himself thusly with Charlotte. She deserved none of this, and yet he was working himself into a most resentful state. How dare Miss Charlotte Drake come along with her sparkling intelligent eyes and full lips and delightful figure now? How dare fate set her in his path?

“Last summer I invested heavily in the canal system in the surrounding shire. Did you know that? Had I known the entire damn village would burn down I would not have spent so liberally. Families who’ve lived and worked on my family’s estate for generations have roofs that leak every time it rains. Roofs I’d intended to have replaced before spring. Have you notice that there seems to be an abundance of rain in this wretched country of ours? And the foundation at Maplehurst is in need of repairs. I’ll bet you didn’t realize that, did you?”

He leaned into her. This close, the green specks in her eyes could almost be counted. “Do you know how much all of that costs? Money I don’t have to spare right now.”

She simply stared back at him, and then made a barely imperceptible shake of her head.

Feeling desperate, Anthony grasped her hands in his. She needed to understand this about him. She needed to understand what drove him and why he’d come to the decision he had.

“I’ve a reputation to maintain! I’ve a younger sister and brother who rely upon me! And not only them, but two aunts and an ailing mother. And employees. Tenants. I represent security to them. Permanence. It is a part of the title. It is a part of who I am.”

And yet he leaned forward. Her warm, clean scent tantalized his senses, so much so that he could hardly keep himself from tasting her.

As though an invisible string wound itself around both of them, they’d inched closer and closer. Soon only a whisper separated their lips. “And Parliament.” She reminded him with a hoarse voice. “I am not uninformed, you know.”

“I did not mean