A Rogue No More - Lana Williams Page 0,38
some time. He no longer accompanied his family to balls or other events.
Annabelle parted her lips as if about to say more then closed them with a small shake of her head. “I will ask Aberland if he has any news on that front.”
“And I’ll send a message to McConnelly to request an update.” The subject of her father seemed to upset Annabelle, which made Thomas wonder how serious his illness was. “Will you be attending the Halverson garden party?”
“Yes.” She looked at him in surprise. “Will you?”
Garden parties were not something he normally went to, but for her, he’d make an exception. “If I have any updates to share, I’ll make a brief appearance.”
Her smile made him feel as if he’d performed some heroic deed. And damn if it didn’t feel good.
~*~
After Thomas left her at Caroline’s garden gate—this time without a kiss, much to her disappointment—Annabelle realized he hadn’t mentioned her latest manuscript. He’d told her he intended to proceed with editing, though he agreed to discuss the timing of publication before sending it to the printer.
Did that mean he hadn’t liked it? She scowled at the thought. She’d been certain it was her best work thus far.
“Didn’t it go well?” Caroline asked as Annabelle joined her in the drawing room where her sister sat embroidering a floral design in colorful silk thread.
“We didn’t discover anything helpful. Apparently he frequently went to the shipyards to oversee some of the family investments. The earl remarked about an issue with the East India Company his brother mentioned.”
“I can’t imagine they would have anything to do with the murder.” She rose before Annabelle could take a seat. “Let us change your gown as quickly as possible. If Mother or Margaret were to come by, I’d hate to have to explain all this.”
Annabelle followed her up the stairs to her bedroom. “Does that mean you told Aberland about all this?”
“Yes, though he’s not particularly pleased.” Caroline sighed. “Is there any hope this is the end of your clandestine meetings with Mr. Raybourne?”
“It’s difficult to say.” In all honesty, she sincerely hoped not. She liked being with him, though she’d be happy to put the murder behind them. Deciding it would be best to change the subject, she smiled at Caroline as she started to undress. “Richard has been so helpful. To think we were all upset when you first became betrothed to him.”
Caroline gave an answering grin. “I thought it was the worst thing to befall our family. Isn’t it interesting how things turn out so differently than we expect?”
“Indeed.” She bit her lip to keep from adding that sometimes it was for the worse. “I’m pleased you regained your eternal optimism now that you’re enjoying wedded bliss.”
Caroline laughed. “Love comes in the most surprising ways.”
Annabelle couldn’t help the trickle of unease her sister’s words caused. Not that she was in love with Thomas. Far from it. She was simply grateful that he was aiding her in this situation. Nothing more. Yet she couldn’t help but press a hand to her chest at the sudden ache there.
~*~
Deciding he couldn’t bear to wait any longer, Thomas returned to the office to retrieve Annabelle’s latest manuscript, A Murder Most Foul, and took it home with him. He spent the rest of the day and late into the night gripped in the pages. He’d had no choice to do otherwise since the tale held him by the throat from the first few lines.
Reading it in her neat handwriting made it a far more intimate experience than he’d expected. It was as if she narrated the story directly to him, holding him captive until the very end. As he turned the last page, he knew it was going to be a huge success. In fact, he couldn’t wait to read it again. Her readers were going to love it.
Yet how could he proceed with publication with the murder unsolved? Delaying it a week or two was easily done. But delaying it months would cause problems. If only he could find a way to help the police locate the killer, the path would be clear to publish the book. Could the East India Company be connected in some manner? At this point, it was the only clue they had. But how could he determine whether they were involved?
In the early morning hours when he finally slept, Annabelle crept into his dreams, heating his blood until he woke. It was no wonder, he told himself. Not after spending