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“I don’t know what?” Blake asked irritably.
“The reason—the main reason I proposed.”
“If I knew, would I be here?” Blake breathed heavily, fisting his hands, forcing them to stay at his sides.
The duke eyed him silently for a moment. “Annalise,” he finally said, “was beside herself with worry, not only because of your disappearance but because you left her nothing. Your heir had managed to scrounge up a small stipend for her and kept her under his roof, but she didn’t want to exploit his generosity.”
“Exploit?” Blake shot up in rage. “She is a countess!” His rage wasn’t aimed at the duke, however. He was angry at himself.
“Wasa countess,” Kensington said in a quiet but hard tone. “The moment you disappeared, she was a penniless widow with no home of her own, no capital, no one to look out for her. And I, as her family friend, took it upon myself to make itmyresponsibility to her family, toyou, to look after your wife.” There was a long pause. “Anything else, you’ll have to ask your wife. But don’t you dare accuse me of such a thing again.”
Blake was seething with anger. His face was hot, his breathing erratic. He closed his eyes to keep himself under control. The worst part of this conversation had been the fact that the duke was right. When gentlemen inherited the title, the first thing they did was put their affairs in order, draft out their wills.
But his father had died suddenly and unexpectedly less than a fortnight after Blake’s wedding, having prepared Blake for nothing. Not that Blake had any interest in upholding his responsibilities. He was having too much fun drinking, wagering, and meandering around. He kept his meetings with stewards to just remind them to do things as they’ve always done. And as for Annalise—
Blake opened his eyes and looked Kensington squarely in the eyes. The duke wasn’t one to hide his gaze. His face was impassive, his breathing even; he didn’t fidget or move; he just sat there, still like a statue.
“I suppose I owe you my apology,” Blake forced out finally. “And my gratitude.”
“I want neither of those things.” Kensington’s voice was hard. “Just make sure to put your affairs in order before you disappear….” He paused. “Again.”
Blake cast a curious eye the duke’s way. His warning sounded almost like a threat. But perhaps it was just the way the aristocrat spoke.
Blake nodded and was about to leave before turning back to the duke. “So that was it then? That was the main reason you married Annalise? You didn’t need a wife; you just wanted to protect her?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“So you do need a wife?”
Kensington let out a breath as if his patience were waning. “I’m a peer, Payne. And I, unlike you, take my duties seriously.”
Blake didn’t bother responding to that. He whirled on his heel and stalked out of the room. Remaining with the righteous and oh-so-proper duke another moment would make him gag.
* * *
Annalise walked into her bedroom after Lavinia left and stopped short at the sight.
Every surface in her room was filled with bouquets of dark red roses. Annalise slowly entered farther into the room and fingered the petals of the rose closest to her. She noticed that there were notes on each of the bouquets and started picking them up and reading them. Every note contained just one word, an adjective:beautiful, astonishing, wonderful, brilliant, delightful, and other outrageous compliments. Annalise felt her eyes tear up and her cheeks burn. This reminded her of how Blake used to court her. Relentlessly, unashamedly, extravagantly. She turned as she heard a light knock and saw Blake enter her room.
“I hope you like them,” he said in a low voice.
Annalise blinked to keep her tears at bay. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered.
“I am glad. Would you mind joining me for a short stroll about the gardens?”
He was so formal, although mischief sparkled in his eyes. Annalise couldn’t help but smile in response. Caught up in her reminiscence and by this unexpected gesture, she couldn’t refuse. So she walked toward him and put her hand on his sleeve.
“Lead the way.”
* * *
Blake walked through the garden path with his wife on his arm. There was a time he hadn’t thought he would ever feel this peaceful again. Her quiet breaths, her warmth at his side, and her scent were incredibly soothing. He felt all his worries melting away. They hadn’t spoken since the moment they exited her room. She probably didn’t want to ruin the idyllic atmosphere, either. They’d both been through a lot in the past year and a half. They both deserved one quiet evening.
Only he didn’t want just one evening. He wanted the rest of his life to be full of these moments spent in blissful contentment. Or perhaps even happiness.
“Tell me,” he said and cleared his throat. “How did you spend your day?’
She flicked her eyes at him briefly before returning her gaze ahead. “I spent most of the day with Lavinia. You remember Lavinia, don’t you?” He nodded, although he really didn’t. “We were discussing what she’ll wear to the ball. She needs a new gown, so we shall go to a fitting tomorrow.”
