Page 74 of Enticing the Devil

No matter how much she might wish it, she did not possess such a reckless willingness to throw herself into inevitable rejection. Very simply, it would hurt too much. He might accept the physical connection they both seemed to crave, but what of the rest? Deep down, she knew he’d never accept her in full. She’d never be the wife he would have chosen for himself.

So, they remained silent, shrouded in an atmosphere of bitterness and regret as the sun slowly set and darkness filled the carriage.

By the time they stopped that night at a posting inn, Anne was desperate to get out of his company and release the tension and emotion she’d been holding at bay. She didn’t say a word as he requested two rooms and ordered food to be brought up. She went to her room alone while he ensured their driver, the carriage, and the horses were all properly settled.

She ate her meal by the dim light of the fire burning low in the hearth, not bothering to light more than a single candle set beside the narrow bed.

She had no illusions about her wedding night.

At some point during the last few hours of travel, she’d come to the determination that he wasn’t going to come to her. Not here. Not tonight. The request for two rooms confirmed it.

So, when she finished her meal and set the tray outside the door, she turned back to the room and the single trunk that had been unloaded from the carriage containing only what she’d need for the journey. She laid out a voluminous cotton nightgown and sat on the bed to unpin her hair.

As she pulled her fingers through the loosened tresses, she had to swallow down the bubble of emotion rising in her throat.

Was this what life was going be like going forward?

Dark, lonely nights. Silent, tension-filled days. Taking action out of habit rather than any true joy or personal desire? Would she eventually become just a shadow of herself?

It was a fear she’d first had as a girl, when she’d realized how little she mattered in the world her father existed in. When she’d finally accepted that the one person who was supposed to love and cherish her...didn’t.

She remembered her recent vow to start living for herself alone. To discover her true self beyond the expectations of others. She’d imagined such a personal quest taking place within the somewhat liberating state of spinsterhood.

A state that was now firmly out of reach.

But she wasn’t resigned. If anything, her new circumstances made her all the more determined to finally put her own desires ahead of others’ expectations.

She already knew she’d never be the kind of wife Beynon wanted. So perhaps she shouldn’t waste her time trying.

Perhaps...she could truly start living as she desired. Her husband was already disappointed in her; she doubted anything she could do would make it worse. And more than that, she was past caring.

She was on her way to a new home. A new beginning. She’d create her own contentment. Her own space to live and breathe.

And Beynon could do whatever he wished.

No doubt, he intended to do exactly that anyway.

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THE NEXT MORNING, SHE woke feeling surprisingly well rested.

Her maid, as an employee of her father, was unable to accompany Anne to Wales. Even if it had been possible, Anne doubted a personal servant would be practical in her future life. Without her dowry, she was uttered financially dependent upon Beynon, and she certainly didn’t wish to become an even greater burden than she was. Thankfully, the maid had packed her travel trunk with clothing that would not require assistance in dressing. Anne chose a comfortable traveling dress in a light sage green. It was a fresh color representing growth and new beginnings. She enjoyed her breakfast at a small corner table in the common room of the inn, where she observed fellow travelers as they went about their morning. She was nearly finished when Beynon finally appeared.

She saw him before he saw her, and for a moment, she couldn’t hide the longing that gripped her as she took in the full sight of him. The careless waves of his black hair framed his rugged features, failing to soften their harsh lines. A brown woolen coat did nothing to conceal his breadth and strength and his long, muscled legs were encased in fitted fawn breeches and dusty black boots.

He was the perfect embodiment of unrefined masculinity. Grit and brawn wrapped with a quiet, raw authority. It was undeniably attractive.

And she wasn’t the only one to think so, she noticed, when she could finally tear her gaze away. A middle-aged serving woman slowed her steps while carrying out a tray of food to blatantly stare at Beynon as he settled their account with the innkeeper. And a much younger woman fanned herself in the door to the kitchen, fluttering her lashes.

Anne might have found it amusing. If she were a better woman.

As it was, jealously ripped through her with unexpected force, shocking her and then saddening her.

It was then that Beynon finished his business with the innkeeper and turned to scan the room. He didn’t even seem to notice the two women practically drooling for his attention as his gaze found her across the room. In an instant, his expression hardened to stone and his eyes darkened to pools of black regret.

Anne’s stomach turned. But then she recalled the promise she’d made herself last night.

She’d create her own place. And if she couldn’t have happiness, she’d find contentment.

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