A Return of the Wicked Earl

by Sadie Bosque

  The marquess was like a father to her. He’d inherited the title from Caroline’s father when Caroline was but a babe. He took her in and raised her as his own. Annalise knew Caroline loved the man. She also knew it wasn’t out of the possibility that the old marquess might pass soon. He wasn’t too old, only a little over fifty, but his mind was not sharp anymore, and he indeed became paranoid. He was always looking around, acting overly cautious, afraid to speak with other people in the vicinity. During the last few months, he’d hidden out in his room most of the time.

  And although Caroline joked and rolled her eyes when she recited the story, Annalise knew that inside, her friend was hurting. For the life of her, she didn’t know what words of support to offer. She sympathized with her friend, but she also knew that a young lady’s life, even the life of an heiress, would not be easy without a gentleman’s protection. It opened a lot of opportunities for dishonorable men to take advantage of her.

  “If anyone can take care of themselves, it’s you,” she said instead with a soft smile. At least that part, she didn’t doubt for a moment.

  The door opened then, and a butler appeared. “The honorable Olivia Manning,” he proclaimed.

  Olivia entered and hurried toward them. “Good, you haven’t started yet. I have a tremendous favor to ask!” she said in lieu of a greeting.

  Olivia had never been good with small talk, one of the reasons she did so poorly on the marriage mart. But that didn’t matter to the ladies currently occupying the drawing room.

  “Good to see you, Olivia!” Caroline stood and offered Olivia a seat. “Please, sit down. The sandwiches should be here shortly, and we are discussing my marriage prospects.”

  “Oh, truly? I didn’t think you wanted to get married.”

  “I don’t. My uncle, however, has other plans.”

  Olivia turned to Annalise. “Apologies, Annalise, I am so winded I didn’t even greet you. I didn’t think you’d be here today due to your husband’s return. Are you well? Is Payne well?”

  “Yes, he has recovered and is ready to make his first appearance at a ton event.”

  Caroline perked up suddenly. “Surely you will want to make a grand appearance!” she exclaimed. “And my ball is coming up on Sunday. It is the perfect opportunity. If you show up with your husband after he appeared so dramatically at your betrothal celebration, my ball will be a huge success. Every person in London will attend just to see the two of you together.”

  Annalise laughed at the opportunistic thoughts of her friend. That was Caroline, always taking advantage of any situation, good or bad. “Your balls are always a success.”

  Caroline waved the flattery aside. “Promise me,” she said vehemently, “no public appearances before my ball.”

  Annalise laughed. “All right, I promise.”

  At that moment, maids came strolling in with tea, sandwiches, and biscuits.

  Caroline turned to Olivia after she poured the tea. “You had a favor to ask?”

  “Right.” Olivia spun her cup between her fingers, unable to keep still. “Remember, a long time ago, you told me that if I had a gentleman in mind, you would help me in picking out a perfect wardrobe that would help me ensnare him?”

  Annalise’s mouth dropped open. “Who is the gentleman?”

  Olivia grimaced. “I don’t want to say. At least, not yet. Please, I just need help with my wardrobe.”

  Caroline frowned. “I shall gladly help you, of course. But the wardrobe will not be enough. We can help more if you let us know who this gentleman is.”

  “I know. But as long as you help me with my appearance, I have a plan for the rest.”

  Annalise and Caroline exchanged curious glances.

  “All right,” Caroline conceded, and then she visibly perked up. “Oh, I shall make certain you will have a new gown in time for my ball. Mrs. Deville, my modiste, is a miracle worker. One time, she prepared three gowns for me in two days. She will put all other work aside.”

  “Well, this is exciting!” Annalise exclaimed. “It looks like this year, both of you are officially on the marriage hunt.”

  “In that case, I am the prey,” Caroline said, and the room filled with laughter.

  * * *

  Blake came home to find that his wife was still out. He wondered if she was avoiding him. If that was the case, then he would have a hard time getting her back. How in the world was he supposed to make it up to her if he didn’t see her? And if he were honest with himself, he had no idea how he’d start making it up to her, even if she were present.

  He had been a major arse for the most part—no, for the whole part—of their marriage, the time he was away notwithstanding. But Blake still had hope in his heart that she’d managed to retain some of the regard she’d held for him.

  The sound of a carriage distracted him from his thoughts. Then there were sounds from the main hall, and Blake stepped out to greet his wife. She smiled at the butler as she walked into the hall and handed him her gloves, pelisse, and a bonnet. Her smile faltered the moment she looked up and saw Blake standing in front of her, but she quickly put it back on. A feigned smile.

  “How was the nuncheon?” he asked.

  “Good.” Annalise lowered her head and walked past him.

  “Did you decide on our itinerary for the week?” he asked after her.

  Annalise threw him a glance over her shoulder. “As a matter of fact, yes. The Marquess of Roth, Caroline’s uncle, is hosting a ball on Sunday. And I promised Caroline we shan’t attend any social events before then.” She started up the stairs.

  Blake followed in her steps. “Splendid, are we to spend the evenings at home, then?”

  She stopped abruptly and turned, obviously not realizing how close he stood to her. Blake, failing to halt on time, almost ran into Annalise. She swayed, and he grabbed her by her upper arms so she wouldn’t fall.

  She looked up at him, her neck bared, her breasts almost brushing the front of his shirt. Heat simmered inside him, collecting at his crotch. His cock instantly got on alert and ready. His wife was too enticing for her own good. It didn’t help that he hadn’t had a woman in over a year.

  Her lips were parted, and her chest was heaving from the run up the stairs. Blake wanted to lower his head and suckle on her lips. He would take her in his arms, kiss her slowly, leisurely, then sweep her off her feet and throw her into the bed. He wouldn’t rush it, though. He wanted to taste her. Slowly. And he wanted to pleasure her the way he’d never pleasured anyone.

  She stepped back slowly and disengaged from his arms. Her breathing was still accelerated. Perhaps she felt the heat too. She shook her head. “I didn’t realize you would be spending your nights home,” she said, sounding distracted.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked with a frown.

  She looked away without saying a word. Her silence screamed louder than any words. Because you never did.

  His heart immediately broke into a million tiny pieces. How could he have hurt her so much? How could he have been such an arse to such an innocent flower?

  He raised his hand to brush her cheek with his fingers. She watched him warily, so he lowered his hand. Blake didn’t want to see her flinch away from his touch. He didn’t want her to think he would take the liberties he wanted. He wanted her to trust him. To crave his touch, as he did hers.

  “I have no intention of leaving this house without you, unless on business,” he said. “I know I’ve hurt you in the past, but I have no intention of doing that either.”

  Annalise gave him a pitying look. Blake ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Annalise, I meant what I said. I want to win you back. I want us to go back to the way things were before our marriage. Before…” I ruined everything. He didn’t have enough courage to say it out loud. “I do not deserve your forgiveness. I know that. Or even the benefit of the doubt. I’ve failed you too many times to count. But I shall try to make amends. And I hope you decide it is enough.”

 
He lowered his head slowly, afraid to spook her, hoping she wouldn’t flinch away from him. When she didn’t, he kissed her chastely on her cheek. He drew away and paused a few inches away from her, breathing her in, delighting at the closeness. Annalise raised her eyes to his. It took all his self-control not to lower his head again and take her lips in a demanding kiss. He straightened instead.

  Annalise gave a tiny nod and scurried away.

  Blake took it as a good sign. The first step toward the renewal of their relationship. He walked away while fortune was still on his side. He’d see her at supper and try to make a second step.

  * * *

  Annalise decided not to come down to supper that night. She’d promised to join him during the meals, but she just couldn’t see him again so soon. Earlier in the day, while standing by the staircase oh-so-close to him, all she wanted to do was lean into him, feed on his strength, feel his embrace, feel his lips on hers and smell his dear scent. Because no matter what had happened between them, she still considered his scent one of the most comforting things in the world. She was a fool.

  So she pleaded a headache and stayed in her room instead. Her inner turmoil could be qualified as a headache, she was sure, or perhaps it was worse.

  Blake had said he didn’t deserve her forgiveness, and she knew he was right. The problem was, her body didn’t seem to know that. Every time he was close to her, her traitorous body responded to his nearness, to his heat in the most disturbing ways.

  If she spent more time in his company, she was certain she would give in to his charm and wind up in his arms again.

  Only nothing good ever happened in his arms. As much as Annalise wanted to have children, her heart still ached from the two times he’d actually come to her bed.

  So Annalise had a quiet supper in her room, took a bath, and prepared for bed. She was sitting by the hearth and brushing out her hair when a soft rap sounded on the adjoining room door.

  “Come in,” she called and braced herself for a confrontation and Blake’s righteous anger because of her absence during the supper.

  Blake entered the room as large as life and dark as night. He’d shed his coat, waistcoat, and cravat, so he was only in his breeches and shirtsleeves. He braced one of his shoulders against the doorjamb and folded his arms over his chest. His sleeves were rolled up, showcasing his muscled, tanned forearms. Her gaze traveled lower. The breeches he wore strained over the muscles of his thighs.

  He was so different, this burly, giant man from the soft and elegant husband she knew, that sometimes she wondered if he was truly Blake. There were so many differences in his appearance, he might as well have been another man. She swallowed and returned her gaze to his face, her own face heating in embarrassment. She was wantonly ogling him. It couldn’t have been at all proper. Fortunately, he was looking at some point about her shoulders and didn’t pay attention to her wandering eyes.

  “Did you want something?” she asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

  “Your hair,” he said, a transfixed look on his face.

  “Pardon?” Her eyes widened. He wanted her hair?

  Blake shook his head as if to clear the fog before his eyes. “I have never seen your hair unbound,” he said in wonder.

  Annalise placed a hand on her locks and lowered her eyes. That was true. She had always bound her hair during the day and wore a nightcap during sleep. The only times her hair was unbound were in the bath or when she was brushing it out. She instantly dropped her brush and started collecting her hair into a bun.

  “No.” Blake reached her in two long strides and took her hands in his. “Don’t. I like it like this.”

  “Oh.” There really was nothing she could say to that.

  He settled next to her in front of the hearth and picked up her brush. “Do you mind?” he asked, gesturing with the brush toward her hair.

  He wanted to brush it? Her lady’s maid brushed her hair daily but having him do it felt… intimate. She swallowed and nodded.

  He slowly moved behind her and took a thick lock of her hair, running it through his fingers. He stopped at the edge, brought the brush there, and started brushing it out, slowly making his way up. He was holding her hair tenderly, as if it were treasure, and moving the brush so softly, as if in worship. Annalise had forgotten that he was capable of such gentleness.

  The sound of the brush going through her hair, her husband’s gentle ministrations, and a pleasant feeling of the brush massaging her scalp had Annalise lost in bliss. A few moments later, she felt her eyelids closing and her body relaxing.

  Blake’s fingers brushed against her shoulder as he collected her hair at the base, and she stifled a moan. He adjusted his position so he could reach more of her hair, and she felt his breath at the nape of her neck, making her shiver in pleasure. She had a barely containable urge to lean against him and marvel at their closeness. The heat in her cheeks had nothing to do with her sitting by the fire anymore. She felt hot all over, and butterflies were fluttering low in her belly, making her want to squirm.

  All too soon, Blake lowered the brush to the side and got off the floor. Annalise looked at him wide-eyed, part of her wanting to scream at him to stay.

  He stood rigid, his hands fisted at his sides. Blake exhaled one more time, readjusted his breeches at his crotch, and walked back to the door.

  “I just wanted to make sure you felt better,” he finally said after clearing his throat.

  “What?” Annalise stared at him, not quite recovered from their encounter yet.

  “Your headache,” he reminded with a smile.

  “Oh, yes, much better.” She bit on her lip.

  “Then shall I see you at breakfast on the morrow?”

  Annalise licked her lips. “Yes.”

  He turned to leave, but Annalise wasn’t ready to let him go yet.

  She was like two different people when he was around. One was cautious and wary and wanted to keep him at a distance. And the other was desperate for his touch, his kiss.

  “Wait,” she said and scrambled to get up.

  Blake paused at the doorway, watching her with a surprised frown on his face. Annalise went to her vanity, opened a jewelry box, and picked up his signet ring. She came closer to him and extended her hand.

  “I received a note declaring your demise together with this ring a few days after your disappearance.” She swallowed, the memory of the horrid day assailing her. She shook her head to dispel the image. “Townsend, when he inherited the earldom, refused to wear your signet ring. Another one was made for him… I kept this one with me.”

  Blake stared mutely at the ring for a long moment. He finally reached for it, slowly, hesitantly, then took it, his fingers brushing against Annalise’s skin. He didn’t put it on, just stared at it, frowning.

  “I thought you might want it back,” Annalise whispered.

  “Thank you,” Blake finally croaked out. He hid the ring in his fist and gave Annalise a soft smile before walking away.

  Chapter 7

  Annalise sat in the drawing room, staring out the window, pretending to embroider. She hadn’t slept well the past few nights. She lay awake half the night, listening to her husband prowl in his room back and forth from wall to wall. It sounded as if he was agitated or anxious.

  Annalise always tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep for a long while before she heard the door shut in his room and his footsteps receding and stalking away from their family wing.

  Where did he go in the middle of the night? She didn’t hear the horses’ hooves or a carriage being sprigged, so he either left on foot or he didn’t leave the house at all. Did he have trouble sleeping, or was there something else bothering him? Ever since she’d handed him the signet ring, his mood had changed.

  They had meals together, but there was no teasing, and he was unusually quiet. This morning he’d said he had a few business affairs to take care of today, and in a way, Annalise was glad he did. It gave her time to resolve her own
feelings.

  Annalise took a deep breath and concentrated on her embroidery.

  A knock sounded at the door, and she looked up to see her butler standing in the doorway.

  “Lady Lavinia is here to see you,” he said and inclined his head.

  “Oh, good. Please, let her in and tell the housekeeper to bring us some tea and pastries.”

  Annalise lit up from the inside with joy. She’d sent Lavinia a missive after the nuncheon at Caroline’s and asked her to call on her as soon as she could. The fact that she came so soon made her expel a breath of relief. Perhaps her friend was doing well.

  “Annalise!” Lavinia exclaimed the moment she walked in.

  She was as bright as sunshine and as comforting as a mother’s embrace. Well, at least as comforting as a mother’s embrace should’ve been, Annalise thought wryly as she stepped into her friend’s arms and hugged her tight.

  “Oh, I’ve missed you!” Annalise said and gave Lavinia one more squeeze.

  “You did? But you saw me only a few days ago.” Lavinia laughed, and they both settled on the settee.

  “I missed you at Caroline’s nuncheon,” Annalise said pointedly.

  Lavinia grimaced. “Father was home and not in the best of moods; I just didn’t want to get in his way.”

  “Clever,” Annalise said and patted her friend’s hand.

  “Enough about me. How is everything? Is Blake feeling better?”

  Annalise nodded. “He is. In fact, he was up and about that same evening.”

  “Hmm.” Lavinia frowned. “How are things between you?”

  Lavinia was the only person who knew the real situation behind Annalise’s relationship with her husband. Since they grew up together on neighboring estates, they were practically like sisters. Annalise had never held anything back from her, and likewise, Lavinia shared everything with Annalise.