In Carson’s study, the older man’s gaze softened. ‘I have not impressed upon you how much we appreciated you bringing Annie home to us safe and unharmed. I cannot repay you enough. You’re the only man I trust near her.’ Carson lit his cheroot after Barrett refused one. ‘Not all men are like you.’ He stumbled over his words. ‘Not all men have an—’
Barrett raised a brow.
Carson coughed. ‘Upstanding. Good decent men.’
Obviously Annie’s father was every bit as oblivious to the world as his daughter was. The man had closed himself away as well not to have heard of the women who had flitted through Barrett’s life. Not to have suspected that Barrett knew more about Carson’s business than a casual observer would.
But the man could see the virtue in Annie. He could see how easily a few soft words and a smile could lead her into danger.
‘Of course, you’re welcome here any time.’ He took a puff of the tobacco. ‘If you can convince Annie how much we love her and how important it is for her to be protected, I would be very grateful.’ Carson’s eyes registered the thought of Barrett’s interest in Annie. A not well-hidden hope appeared in his eyes.
‘I’ll think about what you’re saying,’ Barrett said. ‘In fact, I would like to take Annie on a stroll to Lincoln’s Inn Field today. It’s a perfect day for a walk.’ It was, if you didn’t count the clouds overhead and the extra coolness in the air.
Carson jumped to his feet and had the bell pull in his hand before Barrett finished with the sentence. ‘You can take our maid, Myrtle, as a chaperon,’ he said. ‘She can follow along behind. Just don’t lose her.’ He paused, his hand on the bell. ‘Really, don’t lose her. She gets distracted easily.’
Barrett waited and Annie walked into the room, causing his insides to jolt. Comparing her to anyone else had been a mistake. Much like comparing an artist’s rough sketch to something created by divine inspiration. Annie was the creation made to dissolve resolves and drop mortals to their knees.
But it didn’t matter. The art would stay safely locked away from Barrett’s world. He would remember her and, in time, he would sleep again.
Lincoln’s Inn Field bustled even with the feel of moisture in the air. A group of three ladies walked along, two carrying umbrellas high, the third one hand in hand with a small child.
The iron rails of the fence surrounding the square absorbed the sunlight, making them appear warm instead of forbidding.
A man driving a curricle along kept his distance, not disturbing the moments of quaintness.
‘The world seems so alive,’ she said. ‘It’s been years since I’ve been here.’
‘I’ve been through a few times, but never paused long.’ He walked with his hands behind his back, left hand clasped over his other wrist—because if he did not, he feared he would ask that she take his arm.
To be that close to her would cause him to pull her closer and closer and walk with his head bent to hers and that would be near to announcing a betrothal in such a public place.
Myrtle trotted along behind, humming, speaking to the others nearby and, without meaning to, drawing attention away from Barrett and Annie.
A man with about two sprouts of hair sticking up on each side, ragged, wearing an eyepatch, sat on the corner next to a dog that had an eyepatch as well. When he saw Barrett glance at the dog, the man pulled out a finger and pretended to shoot at the dog. The dog rolled over on its back. ‘Go for the sympathy now, Rouser.’ The little dog whined on an outward breath and then whined again.
‘You’re a good one,’ the beggar said. ‘Now get well and sing us a song about how happy you are.’ The little dog hopped up and barked.
Barrett reached in his pocket and took out a few coins and tossed them into the cup.
‘Well, would you look at that, Rouser?’ The man rattled the cup. ‘Look. Coins.’
Rouser jumped over to the man and the man lifted the dog’s eyepatch. Then the beggar held up the patch and light shown through it. The beggar smiled at Barrett. ‘The hard part was getting her used to the patch, but now she expects an audience when she wears it.’
‘And is yours real?’ Barrett asked.
‘All too real, but I don’t mind. The day is grand. The people who walk along are always in a pleasant mood. I’ve a good life and try to see as much with my one eye as other people see with two.’
Annie walked forward, reaching out her gloved hand as she knelt to pat the dog. ‘She seems a good companion.’
‘She’s my joy,’ the old man said, smiling. ‘I think she’d miss the people if I tried to keep her away.’
Annie straightened, told the man goodbye and walked along with Barrett. ‘I can hardly believe the freedom. Everything seems so bright and alive.’
He looked overhead and saw absolutely nothing of interest, but the air did feel fresh on the dreary day. ‘Lots of clouds.’
She studied his face until he touched her elbow and moved her onwards.
‘I have a feeling my father would be pleased if you were to have dinner with us tonight,’ she said.
‘I can’t.’
The smile on her face faltered.
He didn’t want to let that smile fade. He thought back to how many smiles he’d seen in his life. Not a lot.
Another turn and she would be at home. ‘Just one more thing,’ he said, stopping her again. He realised he’d done that so many times on their walk. A stop for a few seconds here. A stop for a moment to examine a bit of iron, or a second to look at this or that, or the man’s dog. Another check to see that the maid was following. Anything to keep her with him longer.
She paused, waiting.
‘Never mind,’ he said, watching her eyes gaze at him. ‘Never mind.’ He touched a finger to her cheek, feeling the softness deep in his chest. A mistake. A mistake he’d never forget, but one more added to the ledger would not matter.
He’d been about to tell her that he couldn’t court her. That he could give her a bit of freedom that day, but he could never bring her into his father’s house. The risk would be too great. And for him to leave his father alone, that was a risk, too. If his father ever found out that Barrett cared for her, her life would be in danger. But he would not let her into his world of shadows, darkness and greed.
He needed to leave, but he couldn’t force himself. Just as he was giving her a taste of freedom, he was giving himself a taste of a world that wasn’t his.
He walked back to her parents’ house with her, a puppy on the string, following the smile in Annie’s eyes and unable to leave. He pulled her closer, taking both her hands in his, almost losing her fingers in his grasp, but feeling them with his being.
‘You have won over both my parents.’ She paused.
‘They are immaterial to me.’
‘And I beg your pardon for not seeming grateful for your efforts on my behalf.’ She shrugged. ‘My parents trust me with you, because you brought me home. I assure you they do not normally leave me unattended.’ She turned her face away. ‘And your medical condition seems to reassure them, particularly since my sisters have...’
‘I don’t have a medical condition.’
‘Mother explained it to me very carefully. It is nothing to be ashamed of. It happens.’
‘I don’t have a medical condition.’ A tiny lift of his shoulders.
‘Very well...’ she turned ‘...you don’t have a medical condition. Call it whatever you wish.’
‘The physician was having a jest at my expense.’
She could read nothing in his expression. ‘Well, it doesn’t matter to me, either way.’
‘It matters a tremendous amount to me.’ His chin tilted down but his eyes remained on her.
‘Are you here because my father asked you?’
He laughed, a low rumble that reached inside her. ‘No. I don’t care what your father thinks.’
‘Yet, you’re here.’
‘I saw your hand, and heard your voice, and walked away. And yet I keep coming back. And I curse myself for it. But it will not continue.’
‘So flattering to me.’
‘I don’t know why I tell you the truth. Perhaps that’s why I keep coming back. I can speak what I think with you and it’s not the same.’
He saw the moment she took it as a compliment and yet he knew it wasn’t in the way she took it. Without a doubt he could have finessed his way so deep into her father’s good graces and then spoken pretty words to her and she would have been in his arms easily. And he could have walked away. But he didn’t like crumpling things just because he could break them. He saw no reason to expend the energy. No satisfaction in it.
‘The stronger prey on the weaker. If you look at the animals in the forest, it’s just the way of it. You can’t change it. And your innocence to me is more fascinating than the softness of your skin, or the look of your face. I’ve never seen it before. Never, in such a way as you have it.’
‘You hardly know me.’
‘I know your purity. It’s rare. At least to me.’
She didn’t think anyone had ever examined her face so carefully, yet he didn’t really seem to be looking at her.
‘Why do you consider me so innocent?’
‘Because if you knew what risks you took, you wouldn’t have left with the woman. To go out alone into the night with someone you hardly know.’
‘I don’t say she’s golden. But she is someone who has been around most of my life. My sisters told me stories of her before they left. She helped Honour leave.’
‘It isn’t worth the risk to be wrong. You could lose everything. Your life. Or your spirit. You trust too easily.’
She watched his face. ‘So can I trust you?’
‘With your life.’
His heart pounded. He told the truth. He would go to the ends of the earth to find Annie if someone threatened her life.
‘Sweet, don’t look so amazed. You can trust me with your life, but there are so many other things that you have I’m not so sure you should trust me with. Things which may be as important as life.’
She didn’t move.
Her face looked up at him. The sun-mixed shadows giving her a radiance that made him believe, for half a second, in angels.
And how could you not kiss an angel? But to kiss an angel was surely a sin.
She pulled him along with her innocence and he followed willingly. Her artlessness surrounded them and he could feel it. That trusting belief in him.
She stepped forward, her skirts kicking up and touching his trousers, connecting them.
‘I mustn’t let you think that I can court you,’ he said. ‘It’s not possible.’
‘I don’t care about your affliction.’ The gentleness in her gaze almost taking him out at the knees. ‘I really don’t.’
He took in a breath. ‘I can’t court you. I can take you out of your prison today, but you must find a different gaoler and a different path. I have my work. My father. The things that have kept my attention my whole life. You have been a bit of a respite, but we live in two different worlds.’
‘Only because I haven’t been allowed out in society. I’ve always been a wallflower, even in my own home. But, I’m willing to learn to be a part of your world. I would like to. I have already told my parents that I want to go to soirées.’
Soirées. This was not about a simple dance or two. No, she would never wish to be a part of his world. It would destroy her and the only thing that could destroy him would be to see such a thing happen to her.
But she would never understand the evil that he’d seen and felt. The evil that had deadened his heart and tried always to get the upper hand.
‘If you were in my world, then perhaps you would change so much that neither of us would recognise each other.’ He tried to put softness into his words. He couldn’t tell her what his mother’s face had looked like within minutes of her death. How he’d remembered that, but not the way she smiled, or how she looked on any other day. And how she’d called out to him in her last moments and he’d not answered.
‘An innocent tossed into a maelstrom might not withstand the winds as someone who’d done nothing else but live in a storm their whole life,’ he said.
She turned, dipping her head. ‘What if I could withstand them?’
‘But if you couldn’t...’
He reached out, twirling her, and then stopping her at an arm’s length away.
She clutched at his waistcoat. He took the fingers and pulled them to his face, shutting his eyes and holding her hand to trail her touch along his face. ‘I find you more appealing than anything or anyone I’ve ever seen. You are the only poison I’ve ever wanted.’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t be poison and an innocent at the same time.’
‘Said the innocent one.’