she said then swallowed back her disappointment. Perhaps she’d lived in the pages of her own stories for too long and was projecting her wishes onto Thomas. That wasn’t fair to him. Yet he’d already proved himself to be more than the rogue she used to think him. She refused to set aside her expectations of him. Not when so much was at stake. “No matter the reason for your involvement, I still appreciate it.”
He nodded, seeming satisfied that she understood his position.
“Would you care to accompany me to my sister’s home? We could review what we know and where we might go from here.”
“Excellent notion. Perhaps Aberland would be available to shed additional light on anything he’s learned.”
“I’m sure he’d be pleased to do so.”
Though they had several clues that seemed to be unrelated, Annabelle thought further review of them might provide the connection they needed to discover who was behind this.
The remainder of the hackney ride passed in silence until they reached the cab stand.
“We could have the driver drop us at the house,” Annabelle suggested.
“I’d prefer that we not be seen arriving together,” Thomas said. “I’ll come by once you’ve returned.”
Annabelle was surprised at his caution but couldn’t help the warmth that spread through her at the realization of how protective he was being.
In short order, she was advising Caroline’s butler to expect Thomas and show him to the drawing room while she changed her gown. To her surprise, the butler advised her that Caroline had to step out but would return soon, though he wasn’t certain when the earl would arrive.
Her stomach dipped at the realization that she and Thomas would be alone together. Would he insist on leaving immediately? She supposed she would soon find out.
With the assistance of Caroline’s lady’s maid, she changed into her primrose gown and hurried to the drawing room to find Thomas waiting for her.
“Caroline and Aberland are out but will return soon.” Nerves fluttered deep inside her when Thomas raised a brow at her news.
“How soon?”
“I don’t know exactly.” She ignored the flutters. This was Thomas after all, a man who insisted on protecting her at every turn. And they were already betrothed. With a mental shake at her thoughts, she said, “Allow me to find pen and paper so that we might review the information we have.” She looked through her sister’s small writing desk and found what she was looking for before moving to the sofa and the small table that sat nearby.
Thomas followed her slowly, his practiced gaze sweeping over her. The long, slow look had her mouth going dry before she glanced down to see if something was amiss with her attire.
“What is it?” she asked when she didn’t see anything unusual.
“That color is becoming on you.”
“Thank you.” The pale yellow was one of her favorites. Margaret had said the shade suited her dark hair.
Awareness slid along her skin as Thomas joined her on the sofa. The sensation was ridiculously distracting. How could she focus on clues when he was looking at her with such heat in his eyes?
Chapter Fourteen
Thomas drew a steadying breath as he sank against the tufted velvet cushion beside Annabelle. Her sweet scent enveloped him, making him realize that breathing was a mistake when each inhale suffused him in the violet fragrance that he’d forever link with her. He had never realized how appealing the scent was until she’d entered his life.
All his senses had gone on alert when she’d walked into the room, looking so beautiful with that intent look upon her face. Did she have the same expression when she was writing? Was his sudden awareness caused by having just seen her in the widow’s garb that he was growing to detest? Comparing the two was like night and day.
The delicate pale yellow of her gown brought a bloom to her cheeks that made her even more beautiful. The knowledge that they were betrothed and temporarily alone loosened his restraint. Perhaps his days as a rogue weren’t over after all. Not when he couldn’t seem to control himself around this woman.
He cleared his throat, imagining Aberland striding into the room to catch Thomas ogling his sister-in-law. That wouldn’t do. He frowned as he shifted his gaze to the blank sheet of paper on the table, trying to remember what it was for.
Annabelle reached for the paper and slid it closer, her movements graceful and feminine. “Now then,” she began.
But she didn’t reach for the pen and inkwell. Instead, she