“Almighty God,” her grandmother cried out. “Did neither of you check to see if he was even dead?”

“I just assumed,” Annabel protested. Her heart was racing, and she couldn’t seem to slow her breathing down. She sagged against the edge of the bed. It was like the time her brothers had thrown sheets over their heads and jumped out in front of her on All Hallows’ Eve, only a thousand times worse. A thousand thousand.

Lady Vickers turned her glare on Sebastian.

“I believed her,” he said, setting Lord Newbury’s head gently back down on the carpet. They all peered over him. His eyes had closed again.

“Is he dead again?” Annabel asked.

“If you’re lucky,” her grandmother said acerbically.

Annabel shot a frantic look at Sebastian. He was already staring at her, with an expression that clearly said, You didn’t check?

She tried to answer with her own widened eyes and hand signals, but she had a feeling she wasn’t making herself clear, and finally Sebastian just said, “What are you saying?”

“I don’t know,” she moaned.

“You two are worthless,” Lady Vickers grumbled. She marched forward and then crouched down. “Newbury!” she barked. “Wake up.”

Annabel chewed on her lip and glanced nervously at the door. They had long since stopped trying to be quiet.

“Wake up!”

Lord Newbury started to make a moaning, mumbling sort of sound.

“Robert,” Lady Vickers snapped, “wake up.” She slapped him across the face. Hard.

Annabel looked up at Sebastian. He seemed as stunned as she was, and just as happy to let her grandmother take the lead.

Lord Newbury’s eyes opened again, fluttering like a sick cross between butterflies and jellyfish. He choked and gasped, trying to prop himself up on his elbows. He looked at Lady Vickers, his eyes making a few last incredulous blinks before he said, “Margaret?”

She slapped him again. “Idiot!”

He fell back down. “What the hell?”

“She is my granddaughter, Robert,” Lady Vickers hissed. “My granddaughter! How dare you!”

Every now and then, Annabel thought, her grandmother’s love for her shone through. Usually in the most peculiar ways.

“She was supposed to marry me,” Lord Newbury sputtered.

“And now she’s not. That doesn’t give you license to attack her.”

Annabel felt Sebastian’s hand slip into hers, warm and comforting. She gave it a squeeze.

“She tried to kill me,” Newbury said.

“I did not!” Annabel lurched forward, but Sebastian tightened his grip on her hand, holding her back.

“Let your grandmother take care of this,” he murmured.

But Annabel could not let the insult pass. “I was defending myself,” she said hotly.

“With a poker?” Newbury countered.

Annabel turned to her grandmother in disbelief. “How else would you have me defend myself?”

“Really, Robert,” Lady Vickers said, dripping with sarcasm.

He finally managed to heave himself into a sitting position, grunting and groaning all the while. “For God’s sake,” he snapped. “Will someone come and help me?”

No one did.

“I’m not strong enough,” Lady Vickers said with a shrug.

“What’s he doing here?” Lord Newbury said, jerking his head toward Sebastian.

Sebastian crossed his arms and glowered. “I don’t think you are in any position to be asking questions.”

“Clearly I must take charge,” Lady Vickers announced, as if she had been doing anything but. “Newbury,” she barked, “you are to go back to your room and depart first thing in the morning.”

“I will not,” he said in a huff.

“Worried everyone will think you slunk away with your tail between your legs, eh?” she said shrewdly. “Well, consider the alternative. If you’re still here when I wake up, I’ll tell everyone you spent the night with me.”

Lord Newbury blanched.

“She generally sleeps late,” Annabel said helpfully. Her spirits were starting to return, and after all that Lord Newbury had done to her, she could not resist a little poke. Beside her she heard Sebastian smother a laugh, so she added, “But I don’t.”

“Furthermore,” Lady Vickers continued, giving Annabel a glare for having dared to interrupt, “you will put a halt to this ridiculous quest for a bride. My granddaughter is marrying your nephew and you’re going to let him inherit.”

“Oh no-” Lord Newbury started to rage.

“Silence,” Lady Vickers snapped. “Robert, you’re older than I am. It’s unseemly.”

“You were going to let me marry her,” he pointed out.

“That’s because I thought you would die.”

He looked a bit taken aback at that.

“Let it go gracefully,” she said. “For the love of God, look at you. If you take a wife, you’ll probably injure the poor thing in the process. Or die on top of her. And you two-” She whipped around to face Sebastian and Annabel, who were both trying not to laugh. “This isn’t funny.”

“Well, actually,” Sebastian murmured, “it is a bit.”

Lady Vickers shook her head, looking as if she’d dearly like to be rid of all of them. “Get out of here,” she said to Lord Newbury.

He did, making all sorts of angry sounds as he went. But they all knew that he would be gone by morning. He would probably resume his search for a bride; he wasn’t so cowed by Lady Vickers as that. But any threat he might pose to Sebastian and Annabel’s marriage was gone.

“And you,” Lady Vickers said dramatically. She was facing both Annabel and Sebastian, and it was difficult to tell who she meant. “You.”

“Me?” Annabel asked.

“Both of you.” She let out another of those dramatic sighs, then turned to Sebastian. “You are going to marry her, aren’t you?”

“I will,” he said solemnly.

“Good,” she grunted. “I don’t know that I could manage another disaster.” She patted her chest. “My heart, you know.”

Annabel rather suspected that her grandmother’s heart would outbeat her own.

“I’m going to bed,” Lady Vickers announced, “and I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Of course not,” Sebastian murmured, and Annabel, sensing that some sort of filial comment was required, added, “May I get you anything?”

“Silence. You may get me silence.” Lady Vickers looked over at Sebastian again, this time with narrowed eyes. “You do understand my meaning, don’t you?”

He nodded, smiling.

“I’m going to my room,” Lady Vickers announced. “The two of you may do whatever you wish. But don’t wake me up.”

And with that, she left, shutting the connecting door behind her.

Annabel stared at the door, then turned to Sebastian, feeling quite dazed. “I think my grandmother may have just given me permission to ruin myself.”

“I’ll do all the ruining tonight,” he said with a grin. “If you don’t mind.”

Annabel looked back at the door, then back at him, her mouth hanging open. “I think she might be mad,” she finally concluded.

“Au contraire,” he said, coming up behind her. “She has clearly proven herself the sanest among us.” He leaned down and kissed her on the back of her neck. “I do believe we are alone.”

Annabel turned around, twisting in his arms. “I don’t feel alone,” she said, motioning with her head over at the door to her grandmother’s room.

He wrapped his arms around her and moved his lips to the hollow above her collarbone. For a moment Annabel thought he was dismissing her concerns and trying to be intimate, but then she realized he was laughing. Or at the very least, trying not to. “What?” she demanded.

“I keep picturing her listening at the door,” he answered, his words muffled.

“That’s funny?”

“It is.” He sounded like he wasn’t sure why, though.

“She had an affair with your uncle,” Annabel said.

Sebastian went utterly still. “If you’re trying to completely kill my ardor, there is no image more guaranteed to do it.”

“I knew my uncles Thomas and Arthur were not my grandfather’s, but Percy…” Annabel shook her head, still not quite able to believe the events of the evening. “I had no idea.” She started to sigh into him, letting her back mold against his front, but then she straightened like a bolt.

“What is it?”

“My mother. I have no idea…”

“She was a Vickers,” Seb said with quiet firmness. “You have your grandfather’s eyes.”

“I do?”

“Not the color, but the shape.” He turned her around, putting his hands on her shoulders and gently rotating her until they were facing. “Right here,” he said softly, touching his finger against the outer corner of her eye. “The same curve.”

He tilted his head to the side, regarding her face with tender concentration. “The cheekbones, too,” he murmured.

“I do look a great deal like my mother,” she said, unable to take her eyes off him.

“You’re a Vickers,” he concluded with a benign smile.

She tried to suppress a smile of her own. “For what that’s worth.”

“Quite a lot, I think,” he said, leaning down to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Do you think she’s asleep yet?”

She shook her head.

He kissed the other side of her mouth. “What about now?”

She shook her head again.

He pulled back, and she could only laugh as he silently counted from one to ten, mouthing each number while his eyes flicked up toward the ceiling.

She watched him with amusement, laughter bubbling up inside of her but not quite coming out. When he was done, he looked back down at her, his eyes aglow like that of a young boy waiting for Christmas. “What about now?”

Her lips parted, and she meant to scold, to tell him to be patient, but it just wasn’t in her. She was so in love with him, and she was going to marry him, and so many things had happened that day to make her realize that life was to be lived and people were to be cherished, and if she had a chance at happiness, she was going to grab it with both hands and never let go.