Chapter Two

Bennett stared at the vision standing before him and barely managed not to drop his jaw. Or his cane. He’d recognize Emily anywhere. The years had nourished her beauty. Her figure had ripened from a slender girl to a voluptuous woman. Though a bit rumpled from travel, she looked charming and lovely with her raven-black hair falling out of her chignon to frame her face. As she gazed on him, blinking her leaf-green eyes as if she couldn’t quite believe what she saw, he had to clench his fists lest he march to her and sweep her into his arms. He stood trembling with restraint and drank in the sight of the only girl he’d ever loved.

Stepping back a pace, she pressed her mouth closed and laid a gloved hand to her chest, virtually recoiling from the very sight of him. He’d hurt her. And she hadn’t gotten over it yet.

He drew in a ragged breath, taking in her familiar scent of lavender and violets. He had to remind himself that it was better that she suffer briefly now than endure a lifetime of misery with him.

Drawing his dignity around him like a cloak, he dipped his chin in a curt nod. “Mr. Annesley. Mrs. Annesley.”

Emily squared her shoulders, donning a cool reserve he’d only seen her use with a person she despised. “Captain Seton.”

A defensive measure, surely, but encouraging. If she could hate him, she could eventually forget him and move on. Perhaps she already had. Though the thought of her in the arms of another man made him want to skewer the faceless blighter, it was the best for her. For them both.

Bennett remembered why he’d come out of his private dining room and turned to Emily’s father who glowered at him as if he were a poisonous insect. Bennett couldn’t blame him. He’d jilted the man’s daughter and probably caused tongues to wag. If she were sensible about it, she had claimed that she cried off. Such an action would label her a jilt, but spare her the embarrassment of being thrown over, a much worse fate.

He gripped his cane as if it alone protected him from a fall. “Sir, I overheard the innkeeper say that he has no room for you and your family. Apparently, I arrived in time to take the last one. Please, take mine. I would be happy to share accommodations with someone else.”

The innkeeper started stammering. “Oh, cap’n, you wouldn’t jes’ be sharing a room wi’ other men—uh, men lower born than yerself—but you’d be sharing a bed wi’ them as well.”

Bennett shrugged. “I assure you, I’ve slept in much worse conditions.” Nine years of war had ground his sensibilities to dust.

Mr. Annesley eyed him as if expecting Bennett to name some kind of stipulation. “A generous offer…”

“Not at all. I couldn’t enjoy my fine room knowing ladies were in discomfort. Please.” He handed a key to Mr. Annesley.

Emily lifted her chin, and a challenging glint sharpened her green eyes. “Won’t your wife be unhappy with the change?”

Wife. Right. “I am traveling alone at present, Miss Annesley.” He addressed Mr. Annesley as he gestured behind him. “I insist you take the dining room as well. I’m finished and can pass the rest of the evening out here.”

Without waiting for a reply, Bennett held his posture as erect as possible and strode carefully to the nearest vacant chair. His footman/valet followed, eyeing the common room as if he expected a thug to attack them both.

Bennett gestured to him. “Stanley, move my things out of my chambers and into wherever the proprietor says I may stay. Then bring my writing desk. I have some correspondence to catch up on.”

“Right away, sir.” The footman dashed upstairs and disappeared.

“This way, sir,” the innkeeper said to the Annesleys as a lad dashed into the private dining room and cleared away the dishes. “We’ll ’ave it set t’ rights in no time.” He shot a grateful smile at Bennett.

As the Annesleys entered the dining room, Emily paused at the doorway and looked over her shoulder at Bennett. For a moment, the shields around her collapsed. His heart ached at the anguish and confusion roiling in her eyes, eyes that were once filled with such innocence, such trust, and often that mischievous zest for life. She’d been enchanting and loving and happy.

And he had hurt her. She probably hated him.

But that was for the best.

She swept away with all the dignity of a duchess. The double doors closed behind her, shutting her off from him.

Barely forcing breath into his lungs, Bennett collapsed into the chair and rested his walking stick against his leg. He pressed his hands over his eyes. He’d been cowardly to hope he’d never see her again, and the encounter had been worse than he’d imagined.

“Your writing desk, sir.” Stanley appeared and set the desk on the table in front of him. Bennett ran his hands along the outer edge of the carved wood as the hurt and accusation in Emily’s eyes haunted him.

A tankard spilling foam appeared in front of him. Bennett blinked up at the innkeeper.

The man quirked a smile. “My thanks fer yer willingness t’ move to ’nother room. This is me own special brew. I ’ope you like it.” With a quick smile, he stepped back to serve customers calling for another round.

Bennett sipped the drink and raised his brows in appreciation. One of the finest beers he’d ever tasted. He held up the tankard as a salute to the innkeeper, almost wishing he had an entire bottle of something much, much stronger. But no amount of drink would make him forget that the girl he loved sat only a few feet away, forever barred from him.

What could he offer her now? She enjoyed riding horses, going for long walks, exploring caves by the seashore. And dancing. How she loved to dance. None of those activities they once shared were a part of his life any longer. She deserved a whole man.

If only he could change the past and have Emily in his heart and in his arms!