Page 60 of A Return of the Wicked Earl (The Shadows 1)

Chapter 12

Blake stood, his back against Annalise’s door for what seemed like forever. Her coldness, her reluctance to trust him, felt like a curse. No matter how close he got to her, she was ever farther away. And he deserved it.

What he didn’t deserve was her kindness; neither did he deserve her passion. His body was still wound up after the interlude in her bedroom, but he refused to give himself the release he craved. He didn’t deserve that, either.

That night in the long-ago memory when he had left her alone in her rooms, he’d remembered hearing her sobbing. His mind was so fogged with alcohol that he fell asleep rather quickly after that. But her sobs were forever etched into his mind.

This wasn’t the worst thing, however. To spite her, after Annalise had rejected him, he’d gone out to a few society functions with a certain actress.

It didn’t go beyond that. Just a few functions with a beautiful brunette on his arm. But that was enough to stir gossip, especially considering his newlywed status and that he was supposed to be in mourning.

Blake shut his eyes tightly, trying to force the horrible memories out of his mind. The torture, beatings, everything he’d endured at the hands of the criminals fell away at the memory of his wife’s sobs.

And now he was asking her the impossible. To forgive him.

Blake pushed off the door and ventured down to his study. He couldn’t spend another moment alone with his thoughts. He needed to work.

He went downstairs and buried himself in his ledgers. If he was busy working, there would be no room for dark memories in his mind. Perhaps, for a few hours, he could pretend that the past didn’t exist.

* * *

Blake watched Annalise across the seat of a dimly lit carriage as she fidgeted and worriedly bit her lip all the way to Lady Lavinia’s house. She’d avoided him the entire day, and if it wasn’t for the theater outing, he wondered if he’d even see her today.

Annalise frowned, looking out the window. She didn’t share her troubles with him, but he knew she worried about what to tell her friend regarding the man she loved and his ultimate betrothal. She worried even more about how to broach the subject of the tragedy that had befallen their mutual friend.

Blake wished he could take the worries off her shoulders and carry them himself. He wished he could solve all her problems, but it wasn’t something he could do. He couldn’t even give advice. The truth was, he had never cared about anybody else’s plight the same way his wife worried about her friends.

A column had come out in the paper just this morning declaring the Marquess of Roth’s untimely departure from this world. The paper didn’t specify the cause of his demise. It simply stated that the old marquess’s heart ceased to function. Of course, it had, but the precursor of such a tragic event wasn’t revealed.

The carriage swayed and halted. Blake helped Annalise out, and they both entered Lady Lavinia’s home. It was a nice and spacious townhouse with a dome-like hall. But the feel of the house was ominous.

The moment after that thought entered Blake’s mind, a shriek came from somewhere above, and then the sound of shattered glass.

Blake exchanged a worried glance with his wife. There was a roar followed by slurred cursing, then the door shut violently, and hurried footsteps ran down the stairs. A beautiful lady in a provocatively low-cut gown descended the stairs. She palmed her disheveled hair as she walked and wiped at her face.

“Annalise, my darling! How glad I am to see you,” she exclaimed as she finally noticed them. “Lord Payne.”

Blake sketched a bow as she lowered herself in a gracious curtsy. She then walked toward Annalise and took her hands in hers. “I am so glad you are taking our dear Lavinia out to a theater. She is overjoyed.”

“Is everything well?” Annalise asked with a strained smile.

“Yes, my dear. All is well. I shall go fetch Lavinia. She shouldn’t keep you waiting so.”

As the lady left, Blake turned to Annalise and raised a brow.

“Lavinia’s father has a drinking problem. And when he is foxed, he has a temper problem.” She grimaced.

Blake swallowed. His father had been the same way. And although Blake had never been physically violent with Annalise, he had been cruel. If he hadn’t been taken by thugs, would he have eventually turned into his sire?

“And the lady?” he asked, to change the subject of his dark thoughts.

Annalise furrowed her brows in confusion before her features cleared. “Oh, you mean Lady Birch. She is Lavinia’s stepmother.”

She seemed too young to be anybody’s stepmother, but he also knew the old lords and their desire for younger wives to bear their heirs. Since Lady Lavinia was Lord Birch’s only daughter, it seemed like the plan hadn’t worked well for the old man.

Lady Lavinia rushed down the stairs a moment later. They exchanged pleasantries and quickly returned to the carriage.

Once they settled against the carriage seats, Lady Lavinia smoothed her skirts and addressed Annalise without taking her eyes off her hands. “I read this morning’s paper about Caroline’s uncle.”

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