Susan Johnson by When Someone Loves You Page A

feelings and as a result, the afternoon at the races was excessively agreeable.
    They counted their winnings and recapped the better races on their drive home, the few miles between the racetrack and Shoreham flying by as they discussed the events of the afternoon with the ease and affability of old acquaintances.
    Just before the village of Shoreham would have come into view, however, Duff drew the phaeton to a stop in a small copse bordering the road.
    Annabelle felt a predictable apprehension, importuning men a constant in her life. And now she would have to give him his congé as politely as possible.
    Twining the reins around the whip stand, Duff turned to her with a grimace and a sigh. “I’ve been trying to find a discreet way to approach you on this subject,” he said, “but to no avail. So I shall simply soldier on and hand these over to you,” he added, swiveling around and pulling a small linen sack from a luggage compartment behind the seat and placing it in her lap. “This is all from my family. Apparently, I’ve become so pathetic, they felt the need to woo you for me. Not that I intend to go back on my word,” he quickly amended at her frown. “Not in the least. If you please, though, do me a favor and take these small gifts in the spirit in which they were given. In friendship.”
    He was so obviously disconcerted, Annabelle couldn’t but feel sympathy for him. “Your family sent these?”
    “Yes. I’ve been in the grip of the blue megrims for too long, it seems. I didn’t notice, but everyone else did and when you entered my life—they noticed that as well.” He grinned. “I’ve been smiling more—or actually…again. So, please, consider these as offerings of gratitude from my very worried family.”
    She hadn’t realized the extent of his prostration. “You’ve been hors de combat the entire time since Waterloo?”
    “More or less. I’ve forgotten what normal is.”
    “You must be plagued by morbid memories.”
    “Always. Nights are worse.”
    “Are you able to sleep?”
    “Not much—correction…better now, thanks to you,” he said with a smile.
    “To me?”
    “My dreams of blood and gore have been tempered by occasional images of your lovely face. For that, I’d willingly buy out Grey’s myself, but I haven’t been to town for almost a year. So these are gifts from Grey’s by association,” he lightly added, not comfortable discussing his collapse. “And since my family expects me to bestir myself in this regard, please look at them and tell me you like them.”
    “Are they expecting a written report?” she teased.
    “I wouldn’t doubt it. They’re treating me like a child.”
    “You, too? My mother and Molly practically told me what to say in order to engage your interest.”
    “Tell them not to worry.” He grinned. “I’m thoroughly engaged. In fact, if I wasn’t afraid of offending you, I might press you to amend our wager to something less than two months.” His brows lifted marginally. “Don’t say no right off. Say you’ll think about it.”
    “Very well, I’ll think about it and then say no,” she playfully retorted.
    Clasping his hands over his chest, he fell back with a groan. “You’re breaking my heart,” he murmured, coming upright again with a smile.
    “I didn’t know you had a heart, Duff. Or at least so gossip contended all those years when you left a series of repining ladies in your wake.”
    “Maybe I’ve discovered my previously errant heart,” he said, grinning broadly.
    “And maybe I wasn’t born yesterday, my lord.”
    “You wound me grievously,” he said with a dramatic sigh.
    Annabelle laughed. “If I look at these gifts, will I alleviate your torment?”
    “Vastly,” he immediately replied. “And my family’s concerns as well.” He wanted her to have the jewelry. Even more than his family, perhaps. He was grateful for her friendship, and their wager aside, he wanted her to feel comfortable accepting the