“I did.” Anna lied with equal good manners. “And you?”

“I did not,” the earl said, patting his lips with his napkin. “Though riding this morning has put me more to rights. I regret you will not be able to leave the house today.”

“I won’t?” Anna blinked at him over her teacup. He was very much the earl this morning, no trace of humor or affection in his eyes or his voice.

“Stull has made bail,” Westhaven explained. “I do not put it past him to make another attempt to abduct you.”

“I see.” Anna put down her tea cup, her toast and jam threatening to make an untimely reappearance.

The earl laid a hand on her arm, and she closed her eyes, savoring the comfort of that simple touch. “You are safe here, and he can’t force you to do anything, in any case. You won’t go beyond the back gardens, though, will you?”

“I will not,” Anna said. “But what happens next? I can’t simply wait here in this house until he gives up. He won’t—not ever. It’s been two years, and he’s spent considerable coin tracking me down.”

“I’ve had him arrested on charges of arson,” the earl reminded her. “He is likely not permitted to leave London itself, or he will violate the terms of his bond, baron or no baron. You can have him arrested for assault, though if he does have a betrothal contract, that likely won’t fly very far.”

“He has one,” Anna rejoined. “I was trying to recall its particulars last night as I fell asleep, but it was more than two years ago that I signed it, and my brother did not want me to read the document itself.”

“I cannot wait to meet this brother of yours. My sisters and my mother know better than to sign anything—anything—without reading each word.”

“You are a good brother. And they are good sisters.”

The earl looked up from buttering his toast. “You would have been a good sister to Morgan by allowing Stull to marry her?”

“No”—Anna shook her head—“but I am hardly a good sister to Helmsley for having refused to marry the man myself.”

The earl put down his toast and knife. “You had two choices, as I see it, Anna: You could have married Stull, in which case he was essentially free to take his pleasure of you or Morgan, or to use Morgan to control you. In the alternative, you could have married Stull and left Morgan in your brother’s care, in which case he’d just be auctioning her off behind Stull’s back. Those options are unthinkable.”

He went back to buttering his toast, his voice cool and controlled. “You created a third option, and it was the best you could do under the circumstances.”

“It was,” Anna said, grateful for his summary. But then, why did he still appear so remote?

“Until you met me,” the earl went on. “You had a fourth option, then.”

“I could have broken my word to my grandmother.” Anna rose. “And taken a chance you would not laugh at me and return me to Stull’s loving embrace, errant, contractually bound fiancées not something your average earl is willing to champion at the drop of a hat.”

He remained sitting. “I deserve better than that.”

“Yes,” she said, near tears, “you most assuredly do, and if we marry…”

She whirled and left the room, her sentence unfinished and her host unable to extrapolate her meaning. If they married… what?

“I see we’re starting our day in a fine temper.” Dev sauntered in.

“Shut up.” The earl passed him the teapot. “And do not attempt any more advice so early in the day, Dev. I do not like to see Anna upset.”

“Neither do I.” St. Just poured himself a cup of tea and frowned at the earl. “I don’t like to see you upset either. What is the plan for the day?”

“I have to meet with Tolliver, of course, and I asked Hazlit to stop by, as well. I’ve sent for a dressmaker to see to Anna, and expect that will keep us out of each other’s way for the day. What of you?”

“I am going to visit with some old army friends,” Dev said, getting to work on a mountain of scrambled eggs. “I should be back by midday and will make it a point to join Anna for lunch.”

“My thanks.” The earl rose, feeling none too pleased with the day before him. “Tell her…”

Dev shook his head. “Tell her yourself.”

The morning was interminable, with no Anna tapping softly at the door with a little lemonade or marzipan for him, no water for his bouquets, no anything but work and more work. He sent Tolliver off well before luncheon but was pleased to find Benjamin Hazlit had chosen that hour to call.