"It worked better than my method, which was to try to separate them." He stared off across the room, a hint of remorse on his face. "That proved disastrous."

"How?" Jarret asked, curious to know how much Lake would reveal about what had happened between Annabel and Rupert.

Lake's sharp gaze swung to him. "The man went off to war and took her heart with him, that's how. Then he got himself killed. And she hasn't been the same since."

The thought of her pining for Rupert drove a dagger in his chest. She'd spoken of her guilt over Rupert's death, her pain that he might not have wanted her. But she'd never said if she still loved the man. That bothered him.

"Well, if her heart is still with Rupert, you needn't worry that she'll give it to me."

"Do you want her heart?" Lake asked.

Another blunt question. It deserved a blunt answer. "I don't know."

That didn't seem to surprise Lake. "Until you do, I suggest you leave her alone."

It was almost funny; Jarret had said something very similar to Masters not a week ago.

Lake had every reason to warn him off, and it was a mark of the man's integrity that he cared so much for his sister. Jarret admired that.

But none of it made absolutely any difference in how he intended to treat Annabel. After days without being able to get near her, he burned even more for her than before. He had to see her again alone.

Making love to her should have dampened his need-it always had before with the women who flitted in and out of his life. Then again, Annabel wasn't like those women. He craved her intensely.

Unexpected noises in the foyer made him and Lake turn toward the door. Then a familiar female voice wafted to him. "I was told I might find Lord Jarret Sharpe here. Is that true?"

Jarret rose from his chair with a sigh. Confound it all to h.e.l.l. He had a sneaking suspicion that his time in Burton had just come to an end.

Chapter Twenty-one.

Annabel came down the stairs slowly, her heart in her throat as she heard the interchange with the butler. The woman was here for Jarret. What did that mean? Had he lied about his a.s.sociations with women? Did he have a mistress? Or even a fiancee?

The thought drove a stake through her heart.

Especially since the woman was quite beautiful. Curls of sun-kissed bronze framed a face with laughing features, and a fashionable carriage dress of rose-lavender gros de Naples outlined a curvaceous form that any man would desire.

Swallowing her envy, Annabel hurried the rest of the way down the stairs. "You're looking for his lordship?" she said as she reached the bottom.

A pair of green eyes that looked oddly familiar met hers. "Yes. The innkeeper at the Peac.o.c.k told us he was probably here."

Us? "He is indeed. He dined here tonight and is playing cards with my brother."

"Then you must be Miss Lake!" the woman exclaimed, seeming very happy to hear it. "Gabe has told me all about you." At Annabel's perplexed expression, she added, "I'm Minerva Sharpe."

"My sister," Jarret added from the doorway. "I believe I mentioned her to you a few nights ago, Miss Lake."

Remembering the context of that remark, Annabel blushed.

Clearly he remembered, too, for a roguish smile curved his lips before he turned to his sister. "What are you doing here?"

Lady Minerva frowned. "That is no way to greet your sister. At least give me a kiss."

"No kisses until you tell me what you're doing traveling alone across England."

"I'm not alone, silly. Gabe and Mr. Pinter are outside arguing over who should pay for the carriage that took us scarcely half a mile from the inn."

The look on Jarret's face was almost comical. "Pinter and Gabe are here, too? Good G.o.d, please tell me you didn't bring Gran along."

"She wanted to come, but Dr. Wright forbade it. So I've been instructed to give you a message from her." She promptly swatted Jarret's hand with her fan.

"Ow!" He rubbed his hand. "What the h.e.l.l was that for?"

"I told you-a message from Gran. She wants you home."

Annabel couldn't resist a laugh, which gained her a glare from Jarret.

He then turned it on his sister. "I've got a message for her. Tell Gran she can d.a.m.ned well wait until I'm ready to return."

At that moment, Lord Gabriel and Mr. Pinter came through the front door, nearly colliding with Hugh as he emerged from the parlor. A flurry of introductions followed. Sissy, coming down from upstairs, joined the fray.

A short while later they were all ensconced in the dining room, being served ale and wine while Cook rushed to throw together a repast for their surprise visitors.

"Really, Mrs. Lake," Lady Minerva said for the third time, "we don't wish to put you to any trouble. We just came to fetch Jarret, that's all."

"Nonsense," Sissy said. "You've been traveling all day, and Lord Gabriel says you haven't even had dinner. It's no trouble at all. Any friends and family of Lord Jarret's are very welcome here."

Lady Minerva smiled her thanks, then glanced at Annabel with blatant curiosity.

Annabel tried to look nonchalant, but her heart pounded. They were here to fetch Jarret. He'd be leaving shortly. She'd known this day would come soon, but now that it was upon her, she didn't know how she could endure it.

It had been easier to barricade her heart from him that first day, with Hugh's words ringing in her ears about how worried he'd been, but it had grown increasingly harder as the week had gone on.

Sometimes Jarret gazed at her with such heat that she feared she might boil over. He followed her with his eyes, and she followed him with all of her senses, aware at every moment of how he smelled, where he stood, to whom he spoke, what he said.

Worst of all were the nights, filled with memories of their amazing evening together. In bed she touched herself, remembering the feel of his hand arousing her body ... kneading her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, sliding between her legs ... taking her to heaven over and over and ...

"Do pour me some of that orgeat, Miss Lake," Lady Minerva said as she held out her gla.s.s. "Judging from your expression of pure bliss, it must be delicious."

Annabel started, color flooding her face. When she caught Jarret's considering gaze on her, she wanted to sink through the floor. Did he read minds? Did the entire family read minds, for pity's sake?

In silence, she filled Lady Minerva's gla.s.s, afraid that if she spoke, she'd say something that gave away her feelings.

After watching her a moment, Jarret settled back in his chair. "Now tell me, Minerva, what's of such dire importance that Gran sent you up here to 'fetch' me?"

"Actually," Lord Gabriel cut in, "Gran sent me. Minerva just came along because she's nosy."

"Not nosy," Lady Minerva protested. "Desperate. Gran is driving me mad. She keeps inviting unattached men to join the family for dinner, and if I try to get out of it, she fakes an attack."

"Are you sure she's faking?" Jarret asked with a frown.

"She recovers well enough to show up at dinner, so what do you think?"

Jarret chuckled. "She must be feeling better if she's up to her shenanigans again." He met Annabel's gaze from across the room. "All the more reason that I need not rush back."

"We don't want to keep you from your duties at Plumtree Brewery," Hugh said. "You and I can put the final touches on our agreement tomorrow, and you could be on your way by noon."

That twisted the knife in Annabel's heart.

A look of sheer frustration crossed Jarret's face as he stared at Annabel. "There were a few more things I wanted to discuss with you. It might take us another day at least."

"I'm happy to stay a day or two," Lady Minerva said, "but Gran's instructions were specific. We were to bring you back in time for the meeting with the maltmen."

"Confound it all-I completely forgot about that."

"If we leave by noon tomorrow, we'll just make it, but we can't leave any later than that," Lady Minerva said.

Annabel forced herself to be practical. "And the sooner you return to London, the sooner you can make our case to the East India captains," she pointed out. "Perhaps it's just as well." The thought of his leaving was killing her.

Something fierce flickered in his eyes as they met hers. "Perhaps."

The word was noncommittal. Even Lord Gabriel noticed, for he elbowed his sister, who sat next to him on the settee. "Sounds to me like old Jarret has grown rather attached to Burton, eh?"

Jarret ignored his brother, turning to the quiet Mr. Pinter. "I take it you've brought news, too?"

"Yes, sir. I've looked into those two matters you wanted me to explore. Since I wasn't sure if Lady Minerva and Lord Gabriel would be able to convince you to return, I thought it best to come consult with you on how to proceed."

"He won't say a word about these mysterious 'matters' of yours," Lady Minerva complained. "I've tried to coax it out of him for the whole trip."

"More like 'bully,'" Lord Gabriel said with a laugh. He cast Annabel a conspirational glance. "Our sister could strip the paint off a wall with her tongue if she had a mind to. You two would make quite a pair."

Lady Minerva flashed Annabel a dazzling smile. "So he keeps telling me, but I can't imagine what he means. You've been downright shy ever since we arrived."

"Because she can't get a word in edgewise with you," Jarret put in. "Give her a chance, and she can rival even your tongue."

"Feel free to take your brother off whenever you wish," Annabel said tartly. "We won't miss him, I'll warrant."

Everyone laughed. Except Jarret. "Not even a little?" His silky voice made shivers run along her spine.

She caught Hugh watching them and forced a light smile to her lips. "Only when we need someone to scare the townfolk from their beds with a song."

Lord Gabriel laughed. "Good G.o.d, if you heard Jarret sing, then I don't blame you for wanting to be rid of him. Never mind Minerva's tongue-Jarret's singing could strip the paint from the walls. It could curdle milk. It could-"

"Enough," Jarret said irritably. "They already know how bad my singing is."

"And how good your card playing is, I gather," Lady Minerva said. "Gabe told me how you and Miss Lake played two-handed whist for-"

Annabel jumped to her feet. "Forgive the interruption, Lady Minerva, but I must go check on what's happened with your dinner. Perhaps you'd come with me? We have an interesting Turner print in the hall that I'm sure you would like, since it depicts a castle much like those in Gothic novels, and I understand you write those. Is that true?"

She was babbling, but what else could she do? She didn't want Hugh to learn about the card game or the wager.

Lady Minerva looked bemused, but she stood. "I do write Gothic novels, and I happen to adore Turner."

"So do I," Jarret surprised her by saying. "I'll come with you."

But as soon as the three of them were in the hall well away from the dining room, he told his sister, "The Turner is over there. Give it a good look, will you, while I speak to Miss Lake?"

A tinkling laugh escaped the young woman. "Whatever you say, Jarret. I'll wait here for further instructions."

Ignoring his sister's teasing tone, Jarret pulled Annabel across the hall into Hugh's study.

As soon as they were alone, he hauled her into his arms and kissed her with a fervency that sent her head spinning. She ought to resist, but how could she with the knowledge of his impending departure weighing so heavily on her chest?

She curled her fingers into his lapels and held on for dear life as he brought all his powers of seduction to bear, focusing them entirely on ravaging her mouth, making her want to swoon. Or beg.

That thought sobered her enough to make her break the kiss.

He pressed his mouth to her ear, his words heated, urgent. "I have to see you tonight."

"Why?"

"You know why."

She did. Worse, she wanted to go. Right now she didn't care about Hugh or Geordie or anything but being in Jarret's arms again. "The same place?"

He drew back with a narrowed gaze. "I thought I'd have to twist your arm a bit."

"You are twisting my arm," she pointed out. And very effectively, too.

Skimming his hands down to her behind, he dragged her into the lee of his thighs. "I'm happy to twist it some more," he said in a husky tone as he sought her mouth again.

"Not here." She wriggled free of his embrace. "Later. At the brewery."

Fire leapt in his eyes. "Are you sure you can get away? I don't want to cause trouble for you with your brother."

"I'm not sure, but I'll try."

He grabbed her hand and kissed it, then turned it over to kiss her wrist where the pulse beat a wild refrain. "Try hard," he urged her in a guttural voice. "I'm not leaving Burton until I can see you alone again."

Before she could answer, a whisper came from just outside the door. "Jarret, I hear servants approaching."

With a frustrated curse, he tugged Annabel back the way they'd come. Though he released her hand as soon as they reached the hall, she could feel his eyes on her like a caress. And when the three of them merged with the servants to head for the dining room, he took advantage of the confusion to whisper, "Until tonight, sweet Venus."