by Sadie Bosque
“I’ll go to him as soon as I can,” she said to Lady Lavinia, and Blake was ready to explode on the spot.
She’ll go to him as soon as she can? What did she plan, a tryst to soothe his bruised heart? Right under her husband’s nose! Blake tempered his anger and turned to his wife.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked.
She was still looking out into the crowd when she answered, “I can’t dance just now. Not when I am chaperoning Lavinia. Perhaps you’d like to dance with her instead?”
Now she wanted to get rid of him. Not a chance. “No, my dear,” he said silkily. “My arms are open only for you.”
She looked at him then, and he couldn’t hide the dark satisfaction on his face. Finally, she was able to drag her eyes away from her beloved Kensington.
“I’d rather you dance,” she said with a slight frown. “That’s why we are here. And there are far too many wallflowers during the balls due to bullheaded gentlemen like yourself.”
Blake raised his brows. He’d never thought about it this way. In fact, he had never given much thought to any lady who happened to spend the night on the sidelines. For him, to dance with a lady meant that he was expressing his interest in her. He didn’t see the point of dancing for any other reason.
While he was courting Annalise, he had never danced with anyone but her. And he had always regarded it as a token of his affection, as a show of his loyalty to her and only to her. Which was a laughable statement, really, considering his behavior after their marriage. Blake grimaced, feeling a headache coming on. All of those bitter memories, the unpleasant realizations, and the feelings of guilt were gnawing at him, and he didn’t like it one bit.
“Oh, no,” Lady Lavinia said softly by his wife’s side. “He’s dancing with Caroline.”
Blake looked at the dance floor, and sure enough, Kensington had claimed the first dance of the host’s niece. Blake cocked his head and looked at the couple. They moved gracefully, effortlessly among the other dancers, gliding along the floor as if alone in the world and not in a crowded ballroom. They looked as though they were made for each other so perfectly they moved together. But stony expressions on their faces spoke another truth. The couple hadn’t even spoken a word to each other since the beginning of the dance.
“She’s the host’s niece. I am sure he is just being polite,” his wife said, not sounding convincing. Was she jealous? The thought made him scowl.
“Perhaps, ladies, you would like something to drink?” he asked cordially. Anything to stop himself from going over to the dancefloor and punching the duke in the face.
“Yes, thank you,” his wife replied with a smile, and he ventured in the direction of the refreshments room.
Blake regretted his decision the moment he stepped away from his wife. He was stopped every moment by one person or another. Everyone seemed intrigued by his disappearance, declaring their deepest regrets for his unfortunate circumstances and proclaiming their delight in having him back on English shores.
He wasn’t interested in telling anyone the truth, so he had to weave his way out of every conversation, trying not to offend anyone at the same time.
What seemed like an eternity later, he got the punches and made his way back to the ballroom. What he saw made his blood run cold. His wife was beautifully blushing as she spoke to her former betrothed. Blake tried to control his anger, but he couldn’t. It was too much. Being ignored by her was one thing, but flirting with the man she almost married right in front of Blake’s nose was not something he would tolerate.
Blake handed the punches to a passing footman and stalked his way to his wife. She was animatedly discussing something with Kensington, but the moment she spotted Blake, her expression turned somber.
“And what could the two of you be discussing, pray tell?” Blake asked in a menacing voice as he reached their sides.
“Good evening, Payne,” Kensington answered, unperturbed. “Feeling better, I presume?”
“Yes, much,” he answered, his eyes still on his wife. “So, what were you talking about before I got here?” he repeated.
“Dancing, actually,” she said evenly.
“Dancing?” So she ignored Blake’s advances, and the moment he turned his back, sauntered off to beg a dance from her beloved duke!
“Yes, my lord,” she replied calmly. He hated it when she called him that.
“Well, perhaps we should stop talking about it and simply dance,” Blake said and extended his arm.
Annalise threw an uncertain gaze toward Kensington, and Blake almost exploded from suppressed rage. Kensington inclined his head, and Annalise put her hand on Blake’s arm.
They walked to the dancefloor in silence as Blake tried to rein in his emotions. He didn’t want to make a scandal in front of everyone, and he did not quite trust himself to speak after the incident he had just witnessed. When they got to the middle of the dancefloor, the music started, and he turned toward his wife.
“I do not need permission from the duke to dance with my wife,” he said as they started moving with the music.
“Pardon me?” Annalise threw him a confused gaze.
“Forgiven,” he said with a smirk.
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“I am talking about how you wouldn’t leave His Grace’s side to dance with your own husband.”
“But I did leave his side,” Annalise protested.
“I don’t want you socializing with him anymore,” Blake said.
Annalise turned her wide eyes toward him. “What are you saying? You are forbidding me to talk to my friend?”
“He is not your friend.”
“How would you even know who is or is not my friend? You didn’t even recognize Lavinia,” Annalise said. It was true, but Blake was not about to concede his point.
“I am your husband, and I have every right to dictate who may or may not socialize with my wife. Especially if it comes to my wife’s former betrothed.”
Annalise scoffed. “You didn’t much care about who I socialized with before. Why start now?”
They circled other dancers, and people smiled at them politely. Blake smiled and made his expression as pleasant as possible. “Why do you always have to bring up the past? Can’t we move on from that?”
“And you being jealous of Kensington is not bringing up the past?”
“It’s different. You were betrothed as recently as sennight ago.”
“And I thought you dead as recently as sennight ago,” Annalise said heatedly before composing her features for the benefit of the observing crowd. “You can’t expect me to move on from the past when the past is just seven days old.” Blake whirled Annalise among the crowd before they resumed their place in the circle. “You said you would try to win me back, but so far, you haven’t done anything to make me think you’ve changed.”
“Haven’t I?”
“You don’t confide in me, you restrict my movements, and you order me about, expecting me to comply immediately. I shall not do that anymore, Blake.” Annalise stopped on the dancefloor, but Blake picked her up and whirled her around.
“Keep dancing,” he hissed between his teeth.
Annalise resumed dancing begrudgingly, and Blake heard the snickers from the crowd. Annalise laughed for the benefit of the surrounding people, and Blake felt cold inside.
“You can’t expect me to fix our marriage in just seven days,” he said.
“No, but I expect you to at least try.”
Blake didn’t answer, and they continued the dance in silence after that.
* * *
Annalise couldn’t help but feel a frisson of pleasure from being in Blake’s arms again. The tender touch of his hand, the feel of his heat, and the tantalizing scent of his cologne.
Her body was a fool to be so easily lulled into false contentment by just being near a man who had hurt her like nobody else ever had. She averted her gaze and held herself as far away from him as
the dance allowed.
Annalise noticed Olivia standing awkwardly by the wall. She looked beautiful in her new gown, but it was too revealing, and Olivia felt uncomfortable. Instead of shining in it, she hid in the shadows. How the modiste had managed to prepare two gowns so fast was a mystery to Annalise.
They turned in the dance, and she saw Lavinia dancing with Kensington. Annalise couldn’t help but smile. She’d had to use quite a bit of her wiles to make Kensington ask Lavinia to dance without making it seem like she was the one orchestrating it. It had to look like it was his idea. Otherwise, he would just feel pressured and wouldn’t think about asking Lavinia to dance again. She’d feel like a chore, and this was the last thing they needed. It seemed to have worked, too.
She’d worried about facing Kensington after everything that had happened, but the first thing he had asked when she talked to him was about her wellbeing. He was a good man, a reliable man, someone who would dote on his wife. She wished nothing less for her friend. Both Lavinia and Kensington deserved love in their lives.
Lavinia’s eyes were glowing with happiness as she smiled up into Kensington’s eyes. The moment the dance was over, he escorted Lavinia to the sideline, and Annalise saw her friend fan herself vigorously.
“You keep watching him; it’s unseemly,” her husband said.
“Pardon?” Annalise frowned up at him.
“Kensington, you keep watching him.”
Annalise didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. His jealousy was so out of place. Of course, he had no idea that it was Lavinia who she’d been watching, and she found no reason to correct him. Let him suffer. It wasn’t as if he’d been so innocent.
At that moment, the Marquess of Roth, Caroline’s uncle, stepped into the circle and demanded everybody’s attention. Annalise wondered what kind of announcement the man wanted to make. Tonight’s ball was extravagant, and it was clear that he had spared no expense. Did he plan for it to be special from the start?
“Dear Ladies and Gentlemen,” the marquess said loudly. “It is with great pleasure that I make this announcement.” He smiled almost wolfishly. “My dear niece has finally conceded to a proposal of marriage, and I couldn’t be happier.”
Annalise’s mouth dropped open. Caroline had agreed to a match? Why hadn’t she told her anything?
An unpleasant feeling settled deep in her belly.
“This match—and I wouldn’t be exaggerating when I call it the match of the century—” the marquess continued.
“No, no, no, no….” Annalise muttered to herself as she searched Caroline with her eyes.
“—is a betrothal between my niece Lady Caroline and the Duke of Kensington.”
At this moment, Annalise finally found Caroline standing next to the duke at the edge of the crowd. Her face was pale but resolute, her spine straight, her head held high. Next to her stood her betrothed, with a similar mask of quiet detachment on his face.
The astonished whispers and shocked gasps filled the ballroom, followed by exclamations of surprise. A few heads turned Annalise’s way, but she didn’t care about any of it.
Her panicked gaze settled on Lavinia’s stricken face. Their eyes met, and Annalise saw all the anguish, horror, and despair in her friend’s eyes. Lavinia turned and hurried away from the crowd. Annalise started to do the same, but a strong hand caught her arm in a tight grip.
“Don’t even think about it,” Blake gritted between his teeth.
She turned to him, her eyes wide. His face was dark with anger or even rage, his chin set at a hard angle, and his eyes were icy. As much as Annalise didn’t like to think of herself as a coward, she felt unaccountably intimidated by her husband at that moment. He was like a complete stranger; no, like a strange animal or even a monster.
“I-I…” she began to stutter, but he cut her off.
“You will stand here, wife,” he said in the same menacing, low voice. “And you will smile and pretend that nothing is bothering you.”
Annalise’s breath was coming in shallow gulps. She wished to twist her arm away from his grip and give him a piece of her mind. But he was right. She’d only make a spectacle of herself and him in front of the beau monde, and it was not worth it. Everybody would think exactly what Blake was thinking. That she had feelings for Kensington and was hurt by his hasty betrothal. So she put a smile on her face while she surveyed the crowd for any sign of Lavinia.
Poor dear Lavinia. She’d been so happy just a moment ago, dancing in Kensington’s arms, and now… All her dreams had been shattered in an instant.
Chapter 9
As the music started and the betrothed couple led the dance, Annalise steered her husband out of the ballroom. Blake was fairly bristling in indignation. He was outwardly calm and smiling at the passing ladies and gentlemen, but she could feel his arm vibrating beneath her fingers, his muscles bunching from strain.
The minute they left the ballroom, Annalise looked around the hall, trying to gauge where Lavinia might have gone.
Blake rounded on her and took her by the arms. “I thought you said you don’t love him,” he barked.
Annalise’s attention snapped back to her husband. She disengaged from him, her eyes growing round. “Are you out of your mind?”
“I didn’t particularly think so, no,” he answered in all seriousness.
Annalise let out a nervous laugh. “You are so caught up in your suspicions and jealousy that you do not see past your own nose,” she said angrily and was glad to see him falter.
“I don’t see how that’s so far beyond the world of possibilities, especially considering your reactions just now.”
“My reaction was a worry for my friend. And if you’ve ever paid attention to me or the company I keep, you would have known it. Lavinia, not I, is the one who is in love with Kensington. She was the reason I was stricken by the news.”
“Oh,” he exclaimed, his righteous anger dying down. It only fanned the flames of her own rage. “Then why—”
“You must remember to never confuse us, my dear husband,” she spat the endearment. “It is you, not I, who repeatedly betrayed your spouse. You, not I, who had paramours and… and mistresses….”
“Annalise—” Blake made a step toward her, but she stepped back, shaking her head.
“Even when I thought you dead, I’ve never been unfaithful to you, unlike you, who—” She didn’t get to finish the sentence, for, at that moment, Blake reached her in two long strides, seized her, and planted his lips on hers.
Annalise instinctively reached for him and grabbed onto his shoulders, lest she fall. He slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her as if he wanted to devour her. His hands roamed her body, and she gave in under his onslaught. With a sigh of surrender, she opened her mouth and welcomed his tongue as it entered her warmth. It felt so good to be touched again, kissed so hungrily. She missed being wanted, desired. She missed the comfort of his arms.
He felt different to her touch. His shoulders were much broader than when he’d disappeared a year and a half ago; his skin felt tighter and his body harder. His lips hadn’t changed, though. They were as hard and demanding as they ever were. She moaned at the ticklish, sensual feeling of his tongue sweeping over her mouth as if he owned it. And perhaps at that moment, he did.
He groaned in satisfaction, and his mouth gentled instantly. One hand came up to cup her cheek. His hand was large and calloused, so different from the soft aristocratic hand she remembered. He ran his thumb over her skin in a light, gentle caress, and her mind went blank. His other hand smoothed its way down to her bottom and squeezed her, bringing her body closer to his. So close, in fact, that she could feel his erection pressed up against her stomach through all the layers of their clothing.
The door opened at that moment, and Annalise jumped back from her husband’s arms. Blake steadied her with one hand and moved closer to shield her from the curious onlookers.
“Annalise,” he finally said with a ragged sigh. “I have never be
en unfaithful to you either… At least not in the way you think I was.”
Annalise sniffed while a sharp pain originated in the middle of her chest. She rubbed it in soothing circles, and Blake followed the movement. “But you will not believe me whatever I say.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to cause you more discomfort. I shouldn’t have acted as I did just now… I apologize for my outburst, I just”—he raked his hand through his hair—“I don’t know how to act around you anymore. I feel like I don’t know anything about you. I feel like I don’t know you.”
Well, now you know how I feel.
“I promised you a new start, and I haven’t delivered. But I shall. All I ask of you is to give me a fair chance. No past.”
Annalise stared at her husband’s open face. She had trusted that face two years ago, and it didn’t bring her anything but pain and sorrow. She wouldn’t survive going through that again. “I don’t know if I can forget the past.”
“Then maybe put it aside? Let us get to know each other now. I’ve changed, and I just want the chance for you to get to know me again.”
Annalise nodded. “I… I need to check on Lavinia.”
Blake gave a slight nod. “Do you want me to escort you?”
“No, but I shan’t be long.”
Annalise turned and walked away from her husband, her emotions in turmoil. What had just happened there? What was that kiss? And would she be able to resist him for much longer?
He’d given her two months, and now he was waging a battle against her weaknesses. There was a slight possibility that he had changed in the past year and a half, but she was yet to see it. If she gave in to his promises and kisses, she doubted she would be able to withstand another heartbreak. Annalise needed to keep her wits about her and never forget that he was the one who’d ruined her trust in the first place.
* * *
Unrestrained and uncontrolled sobs shook Lavinia’s body as she cried on Annalise’s lap. Annalise ran her hand through her friend’s hair; an inadequate gesture meant to soothe, to comfort. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t working. Annalise had found Lavinia in one of the closed rooms on the second floor, crying her eyes out. She couldn’t imagine how Lavinia was feeling.
