―This is what he did to me," Lord Newbury said, his words coming out like steam between his teeth. ―In front of everyone."

Dear God, was he going to strangle her? Annabel‘s breathing quickened, and every nerve in her body felt primed for flight. But Lord Newbury had to be twice as heavy as she was, and no amount of panic-driven strength was going to help her to topple him.

―I‘ll marry you!" she blurted out, just as his fingers tightened over her windpipe.

―What?"

Annabel choked and gasped, unable to speak, and he loosened his grip.

―I‘ll marry you," she pleaded. ―I‘ll jilt him. And I‘ll marry you. Please just don‘t kill me."

Lord Newbury let out a loud laugh, and Annabel shot a panicked look to the door. He was going to wake everyone, just as he‘d warned her not to.

―Did you think I was going to kill you?" he asked, actually lifting one of his hands from her throat so that he could wipe a tear from his eye. ―Oh, that‘s funny."

He was mad. That was all Annabel could think, except that she knew hewasn‘t mad.

―I won‘t kill you," he said, still sounding terribly amused. ―I would be the first anyone would suspect, and while I doubt I‘d be punished, it would be so inconvenient."

Inconvenient. Murder. Maybe he was mad.

―Not to mention it might give other young ladies pause. You‘re not the only one I‘ve had my eye on. Stinson‘s youngest is a bit lacking up top, but her hips look healthy enough for childbearing. And she doesn‘t speak unless spoken to."

Because she‘s fifteen , Annabel thought wildly. Good Lord, he wanted to marry a baby .

―She wouldn‘t be as much fun to plow as you, but I don‘t need a wife for that." He leaned down, his eyes unnaturally bright in the dim light. ―Maybe I‘ll even have you ."

―No," Annabel whimpered, before she could stop herself. And sure enough, he smiled, taking great pleasure in her distress. He hated her, she realized. He hated her now like he hated Sebastian. Blindly, irrationally.

Dangerously.

But as he leaned toward her, his face coming closer to hers, he lifted his body from her hips and belly. Annabel took a deep, quick gasp at the decompression, and then, realizing instinctively that this might be her only chance, she yanked one of her legs up, bending at the knee. She caught him hard between the legs, and he howled in pain. It wasn‘t quite enough to completely disable him, though, and so she did it again, even harder, then brought her arms up and shoved.

Lord Newbury let out an awful cry, but Annabel brought her knee up again, this time to use her legs to push against him, and finally she threw him off of her and ran from the bed.

He hit the carpet with a thud and a curse. Annabel ran for the door but he caught her by the ankle.

―Let…go of me," she ground out.

His response was: ―You little bitch."

Annabel tugged and yanked, but he wrapped a second hand around her calf and held firm, pulling against her in an effort to bring his unwieldy body upright.

―Let go!" she cried out. If she could just break loose, she knew she was safe. If she could outrun a turkey, damn it, she could outrun, in the words of her grandmother, an overweight nobleman.

She pulled hard, almost breaking free. They both lurched forward, Lord Newbury sliding along the carpet like some horrible beached monster. Annabel nearly toppled forward; luckily she was close enough to a wall to throw out her arms and stop herself from going down. That was when she realized she was near the fireplace. With one arm braced, she reached out blindly with the other, nearly crying out in triumph when her hand connected with the hard iron handle of the poker.

Quickly moving it to a two-hand grasp, she twisted around so that she was facing him again. He was trying to rise, not an easy task with both hands around her left ankle.

―Let go of me," she growled, raising the poker above her head. ―Let go of me or I swear I‘ll—"

His hand went slack.

Annabel jumped back, edging along the wall toward the door, but Lord Newbury wasn‘t moving.

At all.

―Oh my God," she breathed. ―Oh my God."

And then she said it again, because she didn‘t know what else to say. Or do.

―Oh my God."

Sebastian moved quietly through the house, making his way toward Annabel‘s room on the second floor. He was an expert in the art of late night assignations, a skill he happily realized he would no longer need.

It was, he supposed, a science as well as an art. One needed to do one‘s research ahead of time—determining the location of the room, ascertaining the identity of its neighbors‘ occupants, and of course, traveling the route ahead of time to test the floor for squeaks or bumps.

Sebastian did like to be prepared.

He hadn‘t been able to do his usual route rehearsal; there hadn‘t been any appropriate time to do so after he proposed to Annabel. But he did know which room she was in, and he knew that her grandmother was sleeping to the north and her cousin to the south.

Across the hall was Lady Millicent, certainly a stroke of good luck. She wouldn‘t hear him unless he exploded a cannon outside her door.

The only thing he didn‘t know was whether there were any connecting doors between the trio of bedrooms. But this did not worry him. It was an important detail, but nothing he needed to learn ahead of time. It would be easy enough to check once he was inside.

Stonecross‘s floors were well maintained, and Sebastian made not a sound as he approached Annabel‘s door. He put his hand to the knob. It felt slightly damp. Curious. He shook his head.