The Beautiful One (26 page)

He crossed his arms and gave her his best viscount's I-mean-business scowl. “You're not leaving.”

* * *

Anna was dismayed down to her toes. She had to get Will to go or she'd give in to whatever he wanted and lose all respect for herself.

“Your guests will miss you,” she said, wishing her voice didn't sound so husky. “You shouldn't be here.”

“Yes, I damned well should,” he said. “I'm furious with you. Why didn't you tell me about this book and that despicable artist? Why didn't you tell me that Henshaw was the man who'd caused you to use a false name?”

She slumped against the door frame, the fight seeping out of her. She was so tired of fighting what she so dearly wanted. At least now that he'd seen the pictures, she didn't have to be afraid of him discovering them. “I was afraid of what you would think. That book makes me a ruined woman.”

He looked hurt. “Exactly what in my recent behavior gave you the idea I wouldn't believe in you?”

“Nothing,” she admitted miserably. “Though at first I could never have told you about the book and what happened, you've let me see what a good man you are. I wanted to tell you.” She shrugged weakly.

“You darned well should have. Why did you run out of the library just now? Why were you in such a rush to leave?”

“Because I don't want the scandal of this book to touch you or any of the family,” she said fiercely. “And if you'll just stop and think a moment, you'll realize I'm right and let me go.”

He muttered a curse. “Your words to those scoundrels were brave, and they were also so true. Nothing to do with that book can really touch any of us if we choose not to let it.” He paused. “Besides, I don't intend for those blackguards to leave with that book tonight.”

Her eyes widened at the dark arrogance of his words. His blue eyes seemed to be tugging her soul to meet his, making her want to tell him everything.

“When Mr. Rawlins was working for my father, he made a hole in the wall of my room and used it to make those drawings without my knowledge,” she said, needing him to know the details that had burdened her.

“That blackguard!” he growled. He looked furious, but he closed his eyes as if gathering himself. “I will deal with him later.” He opened his eyes and reached out to rest his hand on her shoulder. “But now you and I must be fully truthful with one another.”

What was he up to? “Will, don't try to charm me now. It's wrong of you.”

He chuckled but the sound had a rueful, anxious note that she'd never heard in it before.

“Anna, more than anything I want you to trust me. I know it's hard for you to let yourself be vulnerable to others when life has taught you to rely so much on yourself. But I hope I've shown you that you can trust me.”

In that moment, she realized that she did trust him. He listened to her, he cared what she thought, and he took care of those he loved. He'd earned her trust. She had only been unwilling to give it to him because doing so laid her open to being hurt. But she didn't feel hurt right now, with him looking at her with a deepness in his eyes that he seemed to want her to feel.

“I do trust you.” Speaking these words felt like stepping out into a void, but surprisingly, she didn't feel afraid.

“Good.” He lifted his hands to frame her face. His eyes looked so different tonight, and she realized that there was an open quality to them she'd not seen before. Her heart, so long refused a voice, whispered to her that maybe something had changed.

“I love you,” he said. “With all my heart. You stirred me from the moment I met you on that road, and awakened things in me that I didn't know I needed. What I felt then has only grown each day, into something that I didn't want to allow but that now I welcome. I want you, and I want love and everything that promises.”

Could it really be? Even though she didn't doubt his sincerity, she also knew that she had to ask. “You said before that you only wanted a partnership. That you couldn't allow yourself to love again.”

“I said many things that I've come to see were wrong, or at least not the whole truth because I didn't know what the whole truth was. I thought I would never want to love again, but I've come to see that refusing love kills something infinitely important within us. You've helped me to see that, Anna, and I'm grateful.”

“So it's gratitude you feel.” She didn't even try to keep the dull note from her voice. They were being fully honest with each other.

He closed his eyes and kissed her forehead, and the spark of hope flared again.

“Yes, gratitude, but that's only a corner of what you inspire in me. Lust, definitely, and deep pleasure in your company. But underpinning it all is love. I love you, Anna, with all my heart.”

She saw the truth of it in his eyes, heard it in his voice, and let it wash over her. A smile was growing on her lips as if it would never stop, and she laughed, the wonderful, light laughter of release. Will's brows drew together darkly.

“Don't torment me, sweet. Laughter isn't what I want from you just now. Do you love me?”

“Yes,” she said, rising up on her toes to kiss his dear face, “a thousand times yes. I love you.”

He hugged her to him hard. “Then it's settled,” he said, pressing his mouth against her hair. “We'll be married as soon as possible. I'll get a special license.”

She smiled against his cheek, her heart overflowing. “Did you propose again, my lord? Because I didn't hear anything.”

“Anna…” he said with a note of warning that only made her laugh again.

“Yes,” she said exuberantly. “Of course I'll marry you.”

They embraced, both so happy that it was like their happiness was one.

“But what about
The
Beautiful
One
?” she said as they moved apart. Will kept his arm around her. “So many people have seen it, seen
me
.”

“You know, I don't think there will be any trouble. I'm quite certain the marquess is going to want to arrange all this to our satisfaction.”

“But—”

“Come along, Anna,” he said, taking her arm and looking into her eyes with love shining from his. “Your presence is required in the ballroom.”

She let him lead her downstairs, still a little amazed at all that had changed.

Judith and Lizzie were waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs, looking anxious. Beyond them, it appeared as though most of the curious guests had returned to the ballroom.

“Anna,” Judith asked in a low voice, reaching out to take her hand, “is anything the matter? Are you well?”

“Yes, quite.”

“But what's going on? Why is the Marquess of Henshaw in the library?” Lizzie whispered urgently.

“There were some misunderstandings,” Will said. “But if you two would accompany Anna back into the ballroom, Tommy and I shall sort them out and join you momentarily.”

“Will, you're not going to do anything outrageous,” Anna began, but he just put a hand on her back and gave her a gentle push toward the ballroom.

“Do please see Anna back to the ball, Judith. There's just a small matter to be resolved, and then I shall rejoin you all.”

Judith lifted an eyebrow at Anna as he made for the library. “All will be well, dear girl,” she said, leading her toward the ballroom, where the dancing had resumed, doubtless aided by the lack of any of the more dramatic entertainment of earlier.

“Yes,” Lizzie agreed. “He's the most capable of men, and I'm sure that whatever it is, he'll sort it out perfectly.” She smiled cheerfully. “Let's get you a glass of lemonade.”

* * *

Will pushed open the library door to find a red-faced Henshaw looking daggers at Tommy. The weasel of an artist was standing by an open window and examining the bloom of a rose bush that was just outside the windowsill as though he'd had nothing to do with the night's events. Dart stood guard by the door, and Will directed him to step outside and keep anyone from coming in.

“Lord Grandville,” the marquess growled once the door was closed, “I demand you return my book this instant and stop behaving as if I am a prisoner here!”

Will ignored him and strode over to Rawlins. “You are a foul and despicable scoundrel,” he said fiercely. “Only the lowest of the low could spy on a woman and make pictures of her.”

Tommy sucked in a shocked gasp. “
Anna
is the Beautiful One?”

The artist shrugged carelessly, though he was looking somewhat paler. “Miss Bristol should be grateful I chose to celebrate her. She was a little mouse that nobody even noticed before I made that book. Now half the lords in London want her for a mistress.”

“The devil!” cried Tommy, thrusting the book under his arm and striding forward. Before he could get any closer, though, Will drew his fist back and sent it crashing into Rawlins's jaw, knocking him back against the sill of the open window. The artist gave a sharp cry.

“You will never speak of this book, or Miss Bristol, again,” Will ground out, “or I will see that you never sell another painting, never mind what I will do to your person.”

Rawlins grimaced and panted, apparently unable to reply.

“I say!” Henshaw interjected angrily, striding forward with Tommy on his heels. Will sent his fist into Rawlins's jaw again, and the momentum carried the man backward. There was an anguished cry as he fell out the window and landed with a heavy thump amid the rose bushes. A moment later, it sounded strangely as though he were casting up his accounts.

“Well done, Will!” Tommy cried.

Will turned around to find the marquess spluttering.

“What the devil have you done to my protégé?” Henshaw demanded.

Tommy's voice was drenched in scorn as he said, “No more than he deserves for what he did. The man is a snake.”

Henshaw rolled his eyes dismissively. “That gel tried to peddle her lies to me as well, as if she were a victim. Of an artist, for God's sake. Don't tell me she's got you believing it.”

“Entirely,” Will said.

“Well, that's your problem. I'll have my book back now.”

“You will not.”

Henshaw's thick face turned red. “I damned well
will
have it. I paid hundreds of pounds for it.”

“Then you may consider that a small price to have paid to begin to atone for all you've done to an innocent woman. My God, man, even if you believed she'd posed for Rawlins, why the devil would you chase her down when she told you she wouldn't be in your painting?”

“She made me look bad. Everyone knew she was to be in the painting.” Henshaw smirked. “Everyone has already seen her in the drawings.”

“‘Everyone' has not seen those drawings. And anyone who has will be easily convinced they are mistaken if they imagine any connection to her.”

“Why the devil are you going to all this trouble for this chit?”

“Will,” Tommy said, furious, “you are being far too indulgent.”

“I wish to be certain that Henshaw understands he will never mention Anna in relation to those drawings,” Will said in a dangerously calm voice. “She has consented to be my wife.”

He felt Tommy start in surprise, but all his attention was on the cretin standing before him.

“Your
wife
?” the marquess said, careless of Will's tone and words, and chuckled lasciviously. Will sent his fist forcefully into the man's nose.

Henshaw fell heavily against the table behind him. He stood up with a growl, a hand flying to his face, where blood was already streaming from his nose, which was now twisted at a sickening angle.

“You blackguard!” Henshaw balled up his fist and drew his arm back, but Will was quicker, and he knocked him to the floor with a mighty punch.

“I'm struggling against the urge to kick him,” Tommy said through clenched teeth as he stood over the prone man.

“Get out of my house,” Will growled at the marquess. “I'm certain neither my brother nor I will ever hear another word about any of this, lest we find the need to come after you. And make no mistake: We
will
come after you if necessary. And we won't be so civilized next time.”

The subdued Henshaw was escorted from the room and marched discreetly out the back door by Dart.

Will took the book and locked it in his desk. Then he and Tommy straightened their clothes and made for the ballroom.

“I say,” Tommy said as they drew near the doors, “that was a shocking business. Is Anna all right?”

“Yes,” Will said as they entered the room and he saw her, her face shining at him across the room, regal as a queen in her garnet gown. “She is quite fine now. Simply marvelous.”

“And to be your wife.” Tommy shook his head, a huge smile breaking over his face. “You lucky devil. Congratulations.”

Will felt a tremendously pleased smirk coming over him, because he did feel like one hell of a lucky devil. “Thank you.”

“Tell me, though,” Tommy said seriously, “what will you do with the book?”

Will sighed. The book had caused so much trouble, and he wanted nothing more than to destroy it that very moment. He felt fairly confident that the men who'd already seen the drawings would never dream of associating Viscount Grandville's new wife with them, and without a book or a painting to reinforce memories of her, no one would give it much more thought. The identity of the Beautiful One would simply be a delicious mystery that would fade away.

“I think Anna should decide. But tonight is not for such things,” he continued, as he moved toward where she was standing with Lizzie and Judith. “Tonight is for celebrating.”

Anna was watching Will, her eyes asking him questions as he approached.

All
is
well
, he told her with his eyes.
You
are
mine
and
I
am
yours.