Page 88 of Claiming his Cursed Duchess
“That is hardly my point. It is dangerous, there are highwaymen and robbers?—”
She snatched her arm from him, stepping back, the anger that had been simmering beneath the surface finally overwhelming her. She could see his eyes widen in shock.
“There arehighwaymen?” Rosaline snarled. “Not ‘Please do not go’, Rosaline. Not, ‘I have been a fool, I will tell you the truth,’ but simply a request that I wait until morning. Is thatit?”
Her voice was quivering now, her whole body shuddering with rage as she glared at him, hurt and devastated by his indifference.
“Of course I want you to stay, I only meant?—”
“You lie,” she murmured. “You have been lying to me from the beginning and when I asked for the simple truth you refused to tell me why I am really here.”
She smirked at him. “Do not distress yourself. When I am safely in Ravenshire, I will send word—if only to spare you the burden of wondering what became of me. Goodbye, Adam.”
She turned, willing him to follow her, to beg her to stay. But the silence behind her was louder than any sound he could have made.
As she climbed into the carriage, she watched the townhouse fade from view with a hollow feeling in her chest.
He did not even come out to see me leave him. He does not care. He has never cared. I am better off alone.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
After Rosaline left, a black mood descended over the London townhouse.
The servants walked on tiptoes around their master, who was an ogre to everyone, most of all himself.
He sat in his study, brooding in the biting cold, refusing to light the fire and drinking himself into a stupor.
No wonder she has left me. What woman would stay after such a dismissal of everything she represents?
His thoughts, his dreams, every waking moment were filled with Rosaline. He’d missed her from the moment she had left, and yet his foolish, stubborn heart had let her walk away as though she meant nothing to him.
Adam swirled his port, watching the cut glass catch the light of the single candle that burned on his desk. He had finallycollapsed into a chair, having paced for so long the soles of his feet were burning.
I must get that letter. And once it is found I shall find my wife and keep her with me until I have convinced her how much I need her.
He drank down the last of the port and placed the glass gently on the desk. There was a pile of correspondence that he had not yet had the heart to review, and he staggered to his feet, walking to it unsteadily.
There were two letters from his solicitor, no doubt commending him on his work with the tenants, all of which had been achieved by Rosaline.
“Much good may it do them,” he muttered bitterly snapping open the seal on the final letter with a grimace.
It was from Claridge, yet another missive from the man asking him to attendthreefunctions before the end of the season.
Claridge spoke of his gratitude for Adam introducing him to Lauriston. The obsequious nature of the letter formed a bitter taste at the back of Adam’s mouth.
Claridge continued, listing several of Adam’s peers, and the ‘joy’ he would feel when the Claridge name could be forever linked to theirs after Adam had made the necessary introductions.
Adam read the letter over again, his fingers tightening on the paper, his skin hot with suppressed rage.
This is not to be borne. I shall not dance to this man’s tune for the remainder of my life.
He crumpled the letter in his fist as he checked the clock on the mantel.
It was almost five in the morning, but Adam had no need for sleep.
He would ready himself and be on his way at first light, that should catch Claridge unawares and perhaps allow Adam to guess where the blackguard kept the letter.
It must be in Claridge House somewhere, it’s just a matter of discovering where.
