Annie touched the key in the lock and paused. She turned it, warnings exploding into her mind, but none of them strong enough to stop the turn of her wrist because they all seemed to warn her of how Barrett’s arms would feel around her.
She knew she wasn’t letting Barrett in as much as letting herself out.
She opened the door and Barrett leaned on the side of the house. He pushed himself from the wood. ‘I thought it was four a.m. that you waited for the epidemeosis cure.’
‘Isn’t that what time it is now?’
‘Probably a quarter to a half past.’
There was no way she would have opened the door early. She’d been standing on the other side, counting slowly to a thousand so she wouldn’t appear impatient. ‘I’m sorry to have disturbed your night’s rest.’
He walked through the doorway and put a hand at her side, pressing the dressing gown close. ‘Annie, you’ve been quite proficient at that.’ He took the key, touching her fingers, and turned back, locking the door. He put the key on the hook beside the door.
She turned to him. ‘Did you realise you glared at Lord Richard and Charles?’
‘I did not,’ he said. ‘I hardly noticed them.’
He stepped closer and lowered his voice. ‘I only remember seeing you at the dance. I meant to return the pin that you had that apparently was never yours when you had it in your satchel.’
She stopped. ‘Do not pretend you didn’t know what you were doing when you stood by me in the corner. Everyone there was watching us.’
‘Were they?’
‘And you knew it.’
‘I didn’t mean to stop the others from dancing with you. I just couldn’t bear that you might do something foolish.’
‘Unless it is with you.’ She crossed her arms.
He nodded. ‘If you’re determined.’
They stood, duelling with their stares, and she didn’t know who was winning.
‘I can’t stop thinking of you. Even when I look at the ledgers,’ he said.
‘I wouldn’t consider that a bad thing.’
He looked into the distance. ‘It isn’t. Just odd. The ledgers and business have always brushed away everything else.’
‘I understand. It’s a little bit of the same with me. I wanted to escape my room, and my world, and see what is on the other side of my walls. When I think of you, it seems the walls have disappeared.’
‘There are no walls around me.’ His gaze caught hers again.
‘Are you sure?’
‘It is the truth of me you’re seeing.’
‘It could be,’ she said. ‘I think you judged me much like a property you were interested in buying. And after one close look, you backed away. One look and you were pulling a different direction. Because I was such a very different kind of investment.’
‘You were. Before I’d ever seen you, Gavin kept insisting you were a perfect wife for me. Gavin swore that I should consider marriage, and that you were a woman who did exactly as your parents requested, but then he had no idea you were planning an escape.’
‘A journey. A life.’
‘He talked about your sister Honour, but he kept saying that I should see you. That you’d been kept secluded and were someone that I should court. I didn’t want to court anyone, but I gave in. And he was right. But it doesn’t change anything.’
She took a step closer, trying to read his features in the dim light. ‘The physician sent you to me?’
Barrett nodded. ‘He meddles.’
‘And he selected me?’
‘He’s a physician. He gauged you healthy and knows all the families about. He claimed you to be the pick of the crop.’
‘You were willing to let someone else choose a wife...or tell you which crop to harvest?’ How cold. ‘And you consented?’ A little squeak had sneaked into her voice.
‘No, I wouldn’t let him choose my wife.’ He touched her arm. ‘But he mentioned you so many times I could not help but go see you. And he said you were a planner. You didn’t have the vapours, but tried to keep the others from flittering too much.’
She closed the distance. She’d suspected something else, particularly since he’d just said the physician had claimed her healthy. ‘The epidemeosis, a total lie?’
His lips parted and his head tilted to the side. He straightened the hem of his coat sleeve. ‘I requested a meeting with you alone. I’d seen you by then and wanted to see you again. I wanted to talk with you. The people I hire arrange things for me. It’s their job.’
She was an innocent. At least, much more of one than she’d realised. How could she have been so friendly with a spy and the man who set him upon their family?
She moved closer, understanding why he’d taken the time to show her how to defend herself. They’d let two predators into the house. One, Gavin, and the other, Barrett. And she’d never suspected a thing. Nor had her father or mother, she was certain.
She had been more innocent than she’d ever expected. She couldn’t believe the world worked in such a way. No wonder her father didn’t do well in business. The man was honest.
‘Where did you see me at first?’ she asked. ‘After Gavin mentioned me. I don’t travel about much, have only attended a few balls, and I was mostly under lock and key for the past five years.’
He studied her face. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
She jutted her chin. ‘It does to me. I am a merchant’s daughter. Not of the peerage. Where did you see me?’
‘At your house.’ He shook his head. ‘I didn’t plan your illness, but after I heard your laughter, Gavin did. I thought it clever of him to get me a chance to talk with you.’
‘The physician—’
‘You may believe him if you want. And he is honest, but not with that diagnosis. It’s a family tradition. The meddling. The manipulation.’
‘I knew you looked like the physician. Sound like him.’
He nodded. ‘My half-brother assists me in business. Learned to speak properly as a child, when one of his mother’s lovers who didn’t have children thought him close to a son. But then the man lost interest in the mother and Gavin as well.’
‘You’ve had a spy in my house to spy on me? Or my father’s business? Which is it?’
He stepped back and put a hand over his waistcoat pocket. ‘Both. At least, after he noticed you. It was your father’s business at first. I wanted to know the truth of it before I purchased it. People tend not to tell the truth when money is concerned.’
‘I would agree.’
‘Your father has no sense of finances. Nor of family. He kept you locked away, then allowed a stranger to move into your world.’
‘I would agree that his financial decisions can be questionable, but he does try hard with the family. He cares for us.’
‘But he put you away in the attic.’
Raising her chin, she said, ‘Considering who was in the house, I wouldn’t say it was a bad decision.’ She stepped in front of him. ‘But, you said to trust my instincts. My instincts don’t tell me to fear you.’ She reached out, her fingertips grazing the lapel of his coat before she lowered her hand. ‘But they also tell me that you have a stone wall behind your eyes. I cannot think why you are even standing here.’
‘I apologise for Gavin being in your house. And for the spying. I should never have done that to you. But I didn’t know you then. You weren’t Annie to me. You were Carson’s daughter.’
‘You also spied on my father.’
‘That, I don’t regret.’ He frowned and gave a half shrug. ‘Business and all.’
He leaned against the door, pulling her closer, his voice softening. ‘And I don’t regret you, Annie. Without Gavin alerting me to you, I wouldn’t have noticed you. I couldn’t have. You were hidden away.’
‘For good reason. I don’t know who to trust.’
‘Don’t trust anyone. Ever. One bit more than you have to.’ He ran his hands up her arms, the warmth of his touch blazing into her. ‘But I would lay down my life for you, Annie. Just not my heart.’
‘It feels like I have your heart when your arms are around me.’
She curled herself against him, resting her head against his shoulder and clasping him around the waist. After a few moments, he enclosed her in his arms. They stood together, her face buried against his chest.
But he didn’t respond when she’d told him she felt like she had his heart.
She raised her chin and his lips closed over hers, sending a moist kiss into the recesses of her soul.
The kiss lingered, lengthened and blocked out everything, filling her with light and the warmth of sunshine.
Finally, she stepped away. She knew why he didn’t wish to court her. She had to tell him and make him realise that it didn’t matter. ‘You must understand,’ she said. ‘I am completely fine with the fact that you will never have children.’
‘It’s not—that simple.’ He took in a breath.
‘I understand.’
‘Based on the look in your eyes, I don’t think you do.’ He shook his head, and tipped up her chin and kissed her. ‘Gavin lied about that as well. He thought your father would not be so careful about us being together if there was no risk of childbirth to you.’
‘Then why do you not want to hold me? After you hug me, it is as if you put as much distance as possible between us. I see it in your face. You act as if it hurts you to touch me.’ She put her hand over her mouth. ‘Not that, I mean, I’m a tart. Or care about such things. When I invited you here tonight, I thought it would be impossible to—be close.’
‘Annie, I would very much like to spend a long, slow night in a warm, wide bed with you.’
‘I did enjoy sleeping beside you, too.’
He shook his head from side to side, choosing his next words. ‘I think you’re the purest thing I’ve ever seen.’ He put his hands on her shoulders, then he gently put a finger on her chin and lifted her face to look into his eyes. ‘When I warn you to take care, it’s because there are men who are like me in the world.’ He spoke in a whisper. ‘A lot of them, and I don’t want one of them to take advantage of your unsophistication for a place in your arms. I don’t want one of them to touch you who doesn’t care about you.’ He frowned. ‘I don’t want anyone to touch you.’
‘Then why do you not want to court me?’
‘Because I don’t want you hurt.’
‘Then don’t hurt me.’
‘The only way I can be certain of that is to step out of your life.’
‘Nonsense.’
He took a step to the side and stared into her eyes. ‘I think the marriage your parents share is insipid. It almost turns my stomach. And I suspect you would expect some of the same in a marriage.’ He shook his head. ‘Your father trots in circles to please your mother.’
Annie nodded. Her mother appeared to be the fluff in the marriage and the family had always treated her as such. But she’d been an heiress and the one her sisters had avoided when they decided to leave home. Her mother seemed not to have thoughts at all, but when she did think, it was with an iron will and the directness of an arrow going straight to the centre of a target.
‘I don’t want to have a marriage like my parents... I mean, I do, but...only similar.’ Laughter bubbled in her throat, a blend of humour, irritation and confusion. ‘I cannot imagine you asking me three times if I would prefer a carriage ride to the park, or an evening at home, or if am I sure what I would wish to have brought to me.’
She hated her parents tiptoeing around each other, always seeming to lose any senses when the other person was in the room. Her mother used the sofa like a throne or a deathbed, depending on the day. And the rest of the family always followed along and Annie had soothed everyone when her mother was upset.
‘I suspect anyone having you for a husband and expecting the event to be smooth,’ she said, ‘might have the same luck as planting thorn bushes in a garden and expecting beautiful blooms to sprout.’
‘True. My business comes first, second and last.’
‘And you are the business in its entirety.’
He didn’t answer, but raised a brow, indicating she might be foolish to believe anything else.
She had one of those wind-up machinations in front of her. The Barrett version. All starched and pressed and with only moving parts that one could see working and nothing flesh and bone beneath.
But perhaps he didn’t know that something else was inside him, too. She doubted he’d let anyone, ever, in his life any closer than she was.
And if she pushed him out the door, she doubted he’d ever let anyone get half as close to him as he’d let her become.
She put a hand on his chest, over his heart, and really, she felt nothing beating.
It seemed that he could read her mind and the look in his eyes challenged her.
‘What do you have inside?’ she asked. ‘To fill the space?’
‘Ledgers, I suppose.’
‘That is better than absolutely nothing. You care for something.’
‘I’ve never pretended not to have a fascination with increasing my wealth.’
‘A fascination?’
He nodded, unspeaking.
‘At least you are free to move about when you wish.’
He snorted.
‘You are,’ she challenged. ‘My attic world,’ she said, turning. ‘Let me show you the room.’
He grasped her hand, stilling her. ‘I can’t go to your room with you.’
‘Your feet don’t work?’ she asked. ‘You can’t raise your feet? Should I get Gavin to attest to this, or would he twist that to his purposes?’
‘I can raise my feet,’ he said. ‘Extremely well.’ He leaned closer, eyes direct. ‘I can raise my feet as high as they need to go.’
She blinked, a dismissal, and led him up a darkened hallway, into a smaller, bleaker corridor and then into a small room. He ducked his head under the doorway when he went inside.
Barrett looked into the room. For a small place under the eaves, it was appealing. Two chairs, a table, and some books. Two lamps turned low. No bed.
‘I have a sitting room, a room for my clothes and one for my bed. It is like a small house, but the ceilings and walls of each room are so close that I’m forever reminded of being confined.’
All he could think of was the one room with a bed that must take up the whole space. He needed to give her the pin, tell her goodbye and leave. He would leave as soon as he gave her the pin.
He looked at her and breathed in a light floral aroma. Perhaps some scent from the soap she put on her hair. So fragile. The only thing in his life that he couldn’t easily turn from. The only thing. She kept telling him of the cramped feel of her room and he kept thinking of her bed and knowing it had more than enough room.
He reached out, taking her wrist and holding it up. A slender reed, so fragile he could hardly believe it. He looked where his hand joined hers. She quietened.
He could not tell her of the wager with Gavin. He could not tell her he’d seen her wrist and heard her laughter and it had pulled him along like a wheeled toy on a string. But then when he saw her and realised her beauty and her frailty, he’d known she wasn’t strong enough for his world. He’d known it best for her to be secluded. The safest place of all for her, in her family’s home. And he knew he could keep her there, if she would only listen to him.
The touch of her skin infused life into his body and destroyed his resistance. He’d suspected from the very first that would happen. And he did not need to ruin her any more than he had. He’d made a blasted mistake and he didn’t need to make it worse.
‘Where did you see me first?’ she repeated.
‘I only thought I saw you,’ he said.
‘You can’t think you see something. You either do or you don’t.’
‘You were in the hallway at this house and only in my vision for a moment. I couldn’t see you. But I could see the innocence in your movements and hear your laughter.’ He dipped his head. ‘Your laughter. I’d never heard a sound like that.’
With a free hand, she put a palm flat on his chest. This time he’d not prepared himself. His defences ripped from his body. All he could do was gaze at her.
She dipped her head. ‘I can understand that since I’m a merchant’s daughter, it might cause you to dismiss me. I’m not a business asset. Will never be.’
He touched her chin to raise her eyes back into his view. ‘You are not just any merchant’s daughter. You’re Annie and never has there been a better view in my eyes. Never. Than at this moment.’
His grasp on her wrist loosened and slid down to cup her elbow, and then lower to rest at her waist. Barrett couldn’t keep from touching her face. ‘You’ve never even seen evil. The one thing your father did correctly was keep you safe. But he should have let you see that the world does not have your best interests at heart. It only holds their own.’
‘He has kept me a prisoner.’
‘For your own good.’
‘And you would do the same? Lock me away?’
‘Your father does not have locks on doors to keep you in. He has them there to keep evil from destroying you.’
‘I’m locked away, but I would like us to be friends.’
‘My body doesn’t react to friends the same way it reacts to you.’ He needed to step back. To keep her safe and secure, and let her keep believing that people did have good in them.
She turned away.
He reached out, the light touch of his fingers on her arm stilling her. ‘Annie, at the soirée did you want to dance with me?’
‘I did. But I didn’t really. I wanted to speak with you when no one was around so we could talk of things that matter and not the folderol you must say when a crowd is around.’
‘I wanted to dance,’ he said. ‘Just that moment. A waltz though, a chance to swirl you through the air and keep you close for the memory of dancing with you.’
‘There isn’t enough space in here for a waltz.’
He moved closer, turned her to him and took her hand in his. He pulled her palm to his face and placed a kiss in it. ‘There is plenty of room.’
Then he held her hand high and put his other at her back. With his lips close to her ear, he hummed the music and led her in the confined dance. Leading her around the room, he kept holding her nearer his body.
Finally, he stopped.
‘We must tell each other goodbye and mean it,’ he said.
‘Or we could continue to be friends,’ she answered. ‘Why is that not possible?’
She moved against him, holding him tight in her arms. Their clothes crushed between them. Flashes of heat erupted in him and he closed his lips, tightened the muscles of his jaw and put his hands at her waist and pushed her away as he stepped back.
‘Because we are too fascinated with each other to merely be friends. Ever.’
He reached into his pocket, took out the pin and carefully placed it in her hair, weaving it into the locks. He took his time, savouring the feel of the soft wisps of hair and the nearness.
‘This is how I wish to remember you. A nymph in the night. A treasure to dance with. A beautiful innocent.’ He stepped away, reaching for the door.
He felt her hands clamp around his arm and she swung her body between him and the door. ‘You are leaving. Just like that?’
‘I have to leave. There’s no marriage in me. No tender feelings. But I cannot look at the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen—the most innocence I’ve ever seen—destroy it and go on. And I am going on. I’m going back to the world I’ve lived in always.’ He took her face in his hands and moved close. ‘You are too perfect.’
‘I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,’ she said. ‘I’m one of the Carson sisters. We are not known for our discretion. Rather our indiscretion.’
He rested his face against her, feeling heartbeats pounding in him.
‘I’ve missed you, Annie. I’ve missed you all my life.’
‘I’m here now,’ she said, leaning into his kiss and the caresses that went from his heart to his hands and against her and then back into his body again.
Hard and aware of every flicker of her movement, he ran his hand to the front of her dressing gown and untied the knot as if he were unwrapping a gift. Even the fastening of her clothing seemed to understand his need for her, falling open before he could imagine.
All his sense of business and rightness and everything else fled, but the desperate need to touch her skin.
When he looked at her, he forgot all about doors to leave through and darkened windows and even the warmth of sunshine, because Annie warmed him more than anything else and all the way to the edges of his heart. To look into Annie’s eyes engulfed him in her touch.
He took off his coat and his waistcoat.
Raising her hands, she unpinned her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders. She took the pin he’d given her, and slipped the pin over the side of his waistband. ‘I don’t need this right now.’
She took the lamp and walked through her bedroom door.
She was freed of the constraints of society for the first time in her life.
Pulling him close enough was impossible. Touching him enough eluded her.
‘You will not be able to go back to the innocence you had.’ Barrett pulled away and the intensity in his eyes engulfed her.
She lowered her eyes to follow the trail her fingers made from the side of his face, over his cravat and down his arm. ‘I can never go back. It’s already too late to return. My world changed forever the moment you told me to make a fist.’
She didn’t want to let her mind stay in the dark attic. All she wanted was Barrett. The scent of him entranced her and she pressed against his coat, pulling him closer. She couldn’t breathe unless she touched his skin.
Their fingers tangled at his waistcoat buttons and his husky laughter reached her ears. Gently, he moved her hands aside and, in the time it took for him to run his fingers down the placket, he had the buttons undone. He shrugged his clothes from his shoulders and took her in his arms.
The warmth of his chest surrounded her, a fortress of man stronger than anything she’d ever imagined.
Barrett held her close, taking his time with the sleeves on her chemise, lingering over each movement. He slipped the garment from her shoulders, pausing, taking a breath. Bending down, he kissed the soft skin of her shoulder, his lips lingering.
Letting the dressing gown fall to the floor with the chemise, he caressed her breasts from behind, pulling her against him, the fabric of his trousers brushing her.
Then he turned her, lifted her in his arms and took her to bed. She couldn’t feel the sheets or any of the covers. The only thing that she could see, feel or taste was Barrett.
Running a hand along her hip, he traced the rise and fall of her body, breathing life into her with his kisses.
He was spice and life and her body felt more alive than it ever had before, and free. She’d escaped the prison and found her freedom in his kisses.
He touched her, trying not to miss any part of her, learning the magic of her body, and letting it infuse him with a magic he’d never known before. Annie soothed all the storm clouds he’d ever felt and the magic appeared in her face, and nothing else was in the world but them. His eyes questioned her and she answered him by lessening the distance between them.
He moved above her and, with all the control he’d learned, he gently moved inside her, easing his way slowly, taking care so he could watch her eyes and then brush kisses over her face. His cheek rested against hers, and he held her close and tried to make a moment neither of them would ever forget.
Lying beside Barrett, she could feel the peaceful blanket of security around her.
Annie rested her hand against Barrett’s chest and savoured the moment of closeness that seemed to erase all the emptiness in life before she’d touched him.
‘This was most wondrous,’ she said.
She couldn’t tell him how much their moments had meant. She had no words for such an experience. Shutting her eyes, she snuggled into him. She’d finally reached into his heart.
She propped herself on one arm, keeping the covers over her. She took his hand and pulled it to her lips and kissed the fingers, then nipped one.
He pulled her down against him and hugged her close. ‘I can’t stay much longer. The servants will be about.’
Those weren’t the exact words she wanted to hear. She’d give him another chance. ‘This meant something to you?’
‘Of course it did.’ The truth of his words soothed her. She treasured the knowledge.
‘But we must get back to our duties.’
She listened to his words again in her mind, studying them, trying to put them in a different order or somehow make them sound like what she’d wanted to hear. She must have misunderstood.
‘Think of my life. I have no duties that matter. I say soft words to my parents to make them believe all is well and I stare at the walls. I live in someone else’s house and someone else’s world.’
‘Can you not make it your own?’
It was as if a cat yowled inside her, but she pushed the feelings away, soothing herself by running a hand along his arm, reassuring herself that all was right. He would understand. Surely he would.
‘It doesn’t fit, my world,’ she said. ‘I’ll always be the baby of the family and my parents don’t mean disrespect, but they dismiss my thoughts. They bat my feelings back into the crib if I so much as hint at a thought—then they tug at me when they need someone to bolster their own feelings. If I disagree, it is as if I am a mouse who just grew a giant claw and it shocks them deeply that I might swipe out with my opinion.’
‘I am not a man to release you from these walls. I would only place you in others.’
Her hand clenched. ‘What others?’
She held her breath, waiting to see if he would say the walls of his home. If he married her, it wouldn’t matter if he did think to shut her away. She would have a carriage at her disposal. He attended soirées and as his wife she could stand with the wallflowers and it would not matter so much. Nothing would matter, as long as Barrett was in her life. As long as he knew she was in his.
‘The walls that protect people from my world. I have to take care of my father. I can’t leave it to the others. He would destroy them or innocent people. No one can handle him like I can. No one.’
‘I’m sure that’s true. But I can help.’
And she could. She’d spent her life helping her parents and her sisters get along. Making peace. She could help with his father.
‘No.’ He moved out of bed, clutching his trousers from the floor. ‘He would see you as another opportunity, a weakness in me. He can’t use you.’
She sat, her arms crossed over the covers. ‘Trees gain strength because of the winds that push against them. I have been sheltered, but I want to stand on my own feet.’
The air suffocated her. She’d just shared the most closeness she’d ever shared with anyone ever. She was hoping he’d stay until the last moment of the last second he could remain and keep their encounter secret, yet he was more concerned with leaving.
‘You cannot enter into my father’s household. He doesn’t need another toy to bat around,’ he added.
She certainly could understand how a toy that might be battered would feel. ‘Do you think that is what he does to you?’
‘Perhaps. Perhaps it is a game we both play.’
He put on his trousers and sat beside her, touching her hand. ‘Whatever it is in my household—game or bitter fight to the death—you cannot be involved.’
‘But if I wish it?’ Why could he not agree, or ask if he might visit her again? And where were all the fluttery words of love that her sisters had talked of over and over and over? She tightened her fists on the covers and drew her knees closer to her body.
He shook his head. ‘I would not let you walk into a fire just because you wished it.’
Annie pulled away and lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. ‘Why would you not want me to be happy? Why would you not wish to place the world at my feet?’ Or at least place a soft word into the air. Or promise to return to see her again with a decision of the second they would be together. Did he not understand how this affection thing worked?
He stretched his opposite arm away from her, then placed his palm against the back of his neck, pausing for a moment and then reaching to rest his fingertips against her arm.
‘Because the world wouldn’t be at your feet. You would be at its mercy and it would trample you. You cannot have your reputation ruined.’
He’d forgotten she’d risked running away to be with her sister. Conveniently? she wondered.
Her thoughts clashed against each other. ‘The only trampling is done by you and against my feelings.’
She had heard stories of ruined women and now she knew how they felt. She’d thought she’d shared the most precious moments of life with Barrett and he had apparently missed that.
‘I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you hurt. I want you to have all the best of this life. The best of food, clothes and the house you have always lived in.’ He stopped talking and seemed to be choosing his words. ‘I can’t take you from this life and put you into my own. It’s not a pleasant world. My mother died in it.’
‘You want me to have all these things and yet you do not want to give me yourself.’
‘I’ve told you, I want the best for you.’
‘In your case—’ she directed her gaze at him ‘—I will take an exception. I would settle for less than perfect. Much less than perfect.’ She tightened the covers around her.
‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t you have somewhere to be?’ She blinked, directing him to the door with her eyes. ‘That house where you live...the one with walls which are not welcoming, but which you cannot wait to dash back to.’
He leaned down and touched both her arms. ‘You have to understand. It’s for the best. I could not see you hurt. You think you feel pain now. It is only a little discomfort compared to what my world could bring you. I’ll see you often, but I can’t have you hurt. And I cannot risk the moments that might bring a child into the world.’
‘You are not asking me to be a wife. And I don’t think you’re asking me to be a mistress.’ She took in a deep breath, feeling it become a knot in her stomach. ‘What options does it leave?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Do you love me?’
Was she mad? His thoughts jumped into his mind before he realised they were there. Love? Love? What did she want love for? It was an evil way to manipulate people. Once they loved you, you could use them as you wished.
‘Do you love me?’ she asked, voice shrill.
‘Of course.’ He firmed himself straight and forced the words from his mouth. ‘I love you.’ The most foolish words he’d ever said, but if she wanted to hear them, then he would say them.
She jumped up, realised she was naked, searched the floor and grabbed the first thing at hand: his coat.
Momentarily, conversation flew from his mind. A waif stood in front of him, swallowed by his clothes. Her image burned into him and, even in the dim lamplight, he could see every fold of the cloth and every curve of the skin.
‘I’m so thankful you didn’t choke on those words as you spat them out.’ The waif disappeared and Annie returned to view.
With the accuracy of a hawk pinpointing a perch on which to land, the words flew from his mouth. ‘I won’t be used,’ he said. ‘Not by you. Not by anyone.’
‘We’re not talking about that. We’re talking about love.’
‘We are talking about that.’ He raised his shoulders high. ‘Why would you care if I love you if not to use me? If it is all about unselfishness, then why does it matter?’
He touched his chest. ‘I am here. I am kind to you. What else matters? The fluffy bows I draw around the words? The ones to manipulate?’
‘I do not want to manipulate you.’ She pulled the coat closed tight, but didn’t release the cloth.
‘Not unless it is to get me to tell you I love you.’
She had one foot in front of the other and leaned her weight back, balancing, adding distance between them.
He turned. He could not bear the hurt, anger and accusation in her face. He saw framed lace on the wall, a ladies’ fan and a butterfly, covered in glass. Art his father would take delight in crashing to the ground to watch the shards appear. Beauty he would destroy. If his father discovered someone cared about it, he would take joy in the destruction.
‘You need to have someone who can give you a life of peaceful dreams and happiness.’ A life without his father and a life without the spying and trickery.
‘And you cannot?’
‘I must work until I am exhausted. The memories that live within me can’t be awoken. Moments of stillness like this... It opens the door to the unrest inside me. I have to hold the past at bay. My duties come first. They must.’
‘I would have thought that perhaps I could take your memories from the things that disturb you.’
They stared at each other across the bed.
‘You have. But I must continue to live and take care of the duties I have.’
He looked at the coat, decided he could manage one night walking home half-dressed. If memory served right, it had happened before.
But never with anyone standing there—a waif—in his coat.
He drew himself tall. If that was what she wanted, so be it. He would put the blasted bow on the words. ‘I—’
He waited for his words, forming them. ‘I am here.’
‘With one pound note meaning you tolerate someone and five pound notes meaning you love them, how many pound notes would I receive?’
‘Eleven.’ There. That should satisfy her.
‘That little inner voice is telling me that you mean one point one.’
‘Well, it’s considerably more affection than I’ve ever given anyone else.’
She walked over, extinguished the lamp, darkening the room, and then her footsteps pattered nearer and she thrust out the coat to him and walked away, moving back under the covers. ‘I can get affection from a pet.’
He thought about trying to tell her again those words of love she wanted. But it would be wasting her time and his. He couldn’t say it the way she wanted to hear it and he doubted he felt anything the way she expected him to feel it.
The door was closer than she was.
Barrett left, moving to the exterior door, striding outside and following the dark path to his house.
Putting his head back, he closed his eyes as he walked. None of his feelings could leave his body from where they were trapped inside. Something had taken hold of him, giving him a wax-like coating, hardening over him, and his thoughts churned inside, controlled by the barrier that wouldn’t let them escape.
He wanted to be with Annie. Craved the feel of her inside his arms. Wanted to feel her against his skin. Wanted to shut out everything and hold her close.
When he arrived at the façade of his house, he kept walking.
He’d forced the foolish words of love from his lips after holding Annie in his arms. Words he’d hated to say. Words of weakness and surrender. But he’d said them for Annie. And she’d tossed them away like scraps on to the ground.
He turned to the right and then after a while to the right again, the wind brushing his face, and then again, and then again. When he passed his house again, he kept walking. Then he stopped—feeling the circular route of his path and the circular route of his life.
Something broke loose inside him and he changed direction, completing the same path but in reverse. If his life was to change, he would have to think differently than he had been. He considered how he had done things in the past and how he could do things in the future if he were to take the opposite path.
Morning dawned and he noticed the servants leaving the houses on their errands. A few coaches on the street. A magistrate laughing companionably with a woman who had once approached Barrett with a proposition. Another man leaving the door of his house and jumping into a town coach.
He watched the people, seeing them as people and not as chess pieces. Not as particles to be moved one way or another to suit his purposes,
But then he understood that a part of him would never change. His past would always be inside him. He could choose the direction he would point his future to, but even though he could choose the direction, the world would conspire to do as it wished.
When he finally stopped in front of his father’s house, seeing the walls brightened by the rising sun and morning’s fresh glow covering the walls, he saw his gaol. He’d been locked inside his whole life.
He made a decision before returning to the prison.