After the Wedding (The Worth Saga #2)(77)

And for hers.

She wanted. She wanted—not the annulment, but him. She wanted to be chosen. She wanted someone to want her. She wanted— The sound of the front door opening interrupted her reverie. She almost dropped the book she’d unthinkingly taken from the library shelf. It took a moment to set it on the table with unsure hands. Another moment to take a deep breath.

Her nerves mounted to a flutter in her belly. She reached for her composure and did her level best to walk to him, rather than run.

She failed.

She came to a skidding halt in the front room. A man stood there, handing off his coat and hat to the housekeeper with a, “Thanks, Genevieve.”

He was black like Adrian. He was maybe a few inches taller than her not-really husband. His hair was in short curls; he wore spectacles. He was adjusting his cuffs as she came skittering into the room.

He looked over at her.

Camilla felt her heart hammering in her chest, nerves and tension reasserting themselves as she stopped short in front of him.

He didn’t seem surprised to see her, and the housekeeper seemed to recognize him, too. He took a step closer.

“Miss Camilla Worth, I take it?”

It had been years since she had been called by that name. It brought back memories—strange, tangled memories. Laughing with Judith and trying on bracelets far beyond their ages. Judith saying, if you don’t want to be loved, we don’t want to love you.

Her breath stopped, then skipped, then stopped again.

“Yes?” Her heart seemed to not function properly. Her head felt far too light.

The corner of his mouth ticked up. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said. “I’m Captain Grayson Hunter.”

Oh, for God’s sake. Adrian’s brother. Of course she had to meet him under these dreadful circumstances, when she was nervous and scared and full of hope.

She struggled and somehow found the power of speech. “Mr. Hunter,” she managed. “How…nice to meet you. I am…” No, what was she doing, introducing herself? He already knew who she was. He’d said it.

“Ah, that’s right.” He considered her. “I shouldn’t have called you Worth, should I? It’s Camilla Hunter, now. Welcome to the family.” He wasn’t exactly asking a question.

“No,” she heard herself say. “Adrian has been most insistent on that point. If we are to get an annulment, we must not hold ourselves out as married.”

“Ah.” He touched his fingers together. “How interesting. So you’re getting an annulment, then?”

“It is generally considered the accepted practice when one is forced to marry at gunpoint.”

His eyes flashed, but all he said was: “Is it, then? I hadn’t realized that gunpoint weddings were an accepted practice.”

“They’re a rare enough occurrence that they are not usually covered in the etiquette books.” Camilla’s hands fluttered uselessly by her side.

“Well, by all means. Amend the etiquette books.” He looked around. “Is my little brother around, by any chance?”

“He’s gone—” She gestured, her hand waving in the direction of the cathedral. “To, um… Speak. With his uncle. Your uncle, I mean. About the annulment and other things.”

Captain Hunter looked heavenward, as if beseeching some unknown power.

“So. Let me guess. Adrian found himself married at gunpoint—God, I have no idea how that happens to a man—and rather than tell his older brother about it, which would involve admitting that he was wrong, he asked Denmore for help. Denmore, of course, didn’t give two sweeps of a broom about what had happened, and demanded some sort of quid pro quo. Have I got that right?”

Camilla bit her lip.

“That goddamned man. I told him so—but never mind. Here I am, forgetting my manners, and this is in the etiquette books. I’m Adrian’s brother, and captain of The Pursuit. I was informed that my brother had wed, and suspected it was part and parcel of this entire mess, which meant he’d come back to Denmore eventually.”

He must have heard about it from…someone at Harvil? No, not that. He’d called her Camilla Worth. “But how did you know my real name?”

“Ah!” His face cleared. “As to that. I’ve something for you.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a piece of paper. “Here.” He held it out.

She took it. It was sealed with a bit of wax, stamped with the initials TLW.

TLW? She had no idea who…

The wax snapped under her trembling fingers. She unfolded the paper.

Dear Camilla, the note read. This is your sister, Theresa.

Theresa. Good God. She almost dropped the letter. She’d just allowed herself to hope that her family might receive her if she tried one last time, but she’d only considered Judith—no one else. The last time she had seen Theresa, she had been a little girl tracing her ABCs.

Obviously time had passed, but Camilla had no image of her youngest sister at all.

We—and by “we”, I mean Benedict and I, but also Judith and Christian—Christian is Judith’s husband; you may remember him from the time he had our father convicted of treason—which is probably not the best introduction—and bother, I’ve used too many dashes and I have no idea where this sentence is going.