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Ruth brought the stays. Annalise stood and placed her hands on the back of the chair as Ruth helped her into them and started vigorously tightening up the knots at the back. The new gown Annalise had ordered for the ball had a tiny waist, and she needed the stays to be tightened stiffly for her to get into it successfully.
As Ruth worked her stays, Annalise pondered that she should feel suffocated and out of breath, but the more layers of clothing she put on, the lighter she felt. As if each piece signified the next step in her life, carrying her away from the sordid memories of the past.
Ruth brought the petticoat, and Annalise stepped into it, staring blankly into the hearth. She’d loved Blake, she still did, and perhaps she always would. But the marriage to him hadn’t turned out the way she’d hoped, and this time, she had a chance at a quiet, comfortable life with her good friend.
Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, thinking of Blake’s fate, but she blinked them away. Blake was her past now. She needed to concentrate on the future.
She wanted children. After the fiasco of her last marriage, this was the only reason she’d agreed to marry at all. If she’d had Blake’s child, the state of her finances would probably have forced her to remarry anyway. But at least then, she needn’t lie with her husband. The thought of sharing a bed with Kensington made her stomach tie in knots.
Ruth brought her the bodice, and after Annalise donned it, Ruth helped her into a beautiful coral gown with golden embroidered ornamentation. The sleeves hugged her arms up to her elbows and then flared and ruffled at the ends.
She closed her eyes. The icy blue gown she wore for her first betrothal ball flashed before her eyes. She remembered how her eyes shone with happiness in the looking glass. Annalise had to shake her head again. There was no need for these memories to invade her tonight. She opened her eyes and forced herself to smile at her reflection.
“Will that be all, my lady?” Ruth asked from behind her.
“Yes, Ruth, thank you.” Annalise swallowed, still regarding herself in the looking glass. Her maid curtsied and hurried out of the room.
Annalise slowly ventured toward her vanity table. She picked up her white gloves and slowly drew them on. Her fingers trembled as she fastened her gloves over her arms. Soon, she would officially become the Duchess of Kensington.
* * *
Blake stepped off the ship and onto firm land for the first time in what seemed like forever. His heart rate sped up, and his breathing roughened as the heady feeling of joy assailed him. He looked around the moving crowds of people. The shouts from the surrounding passersby, the sounds of his native accent, even if spoken by common street boys and dirty workers, warmed his heart. He nearly dropped to his knees and kissed the ground at that moment. Tears burned at the backs of his eyelids and threatened to overflow through the corners of his eyes. Blake swallowed and took a steadying breath, managing his emotions.
He was home. He was finally back home.
Blake rushed through the crowd, looking for the hackney coaches, unable to hold his smile. He patted his pocket to make sure he hadn’t lost his purse with coins in his excitement and hurried his steps.
He forgot all about his numb knee, muscle aches, and bruises. All the worries had vanished. He shouldered his way out of the docks, not looking back, not even sparing a glance at the ship, at the life he’d never asked for and was finally leaving behind.
Several moments later, he successfully hailed a hackney and sprung inside.
“Payne Townhouse,” he shouted to the coachman and thumped the roof of the carriage.
The vehicle lurched into motion, and Blake rested his head against the seat cushions and closed his eyes. He couldn’t help but grin, taking in the familiar sounds of a rattling carriage and horse hooves, the comforting smells of horses, and the carriage’s leather seats. He reached his hand inside his coat and under his simple sailor’s shirt and took out his locket.
His smile turned gentle as he rubbed the miniature inside the locket with his thumb. The somber blue eyes of his lovely wife stared at him from the portrait.
How was his little wife, he wondered for the millionth time as he looked at her dear face. What had become of her? Did she mourn him still? Was she even still in his townhouse or at one of his estates?
In Blake’s absence, his cousin, Mr. Marcus Townsend, would have taken hold of the title and his estates. They weren’t close, but Blake was sure Townsend would never eject his wife. However, he worried whether she was adequately provided for or not. He hadn’t exactly left his affairs in order when he disappeared. None of it mattered anymore, however. He was back, and he would find Annalise wherever she was.
He would find her, hug her close to his heart, and never let her go.
By the time he rolled along the street of his townhouse, the sun was already setting. Blake could still see the outlines of the houses clearly through the carriage window. He held the curtain in one hand while he openly gawked at the familiar street, swallowing back the overwhelming emotions. He knew this place like the back of his hand, perhaps better. Several more houses and—
The carriage slowed down to a near halt. Blake scowled at the wall separating him from the coachman, wondering what could stall their progress. It didn’t matter—he might as well walk the rest of the way. He thumped the roof of the carriage and opened the door.
“Oy!” he yelled to the coachman. “I shall disembark here.”
He jumped out of the carriage without waiting for the step to be lowered and threw several coins to the coachman. He tipped his hat and glanced ahead. Now that he was out on the street, he saw why the carriage was moving at a snail’s pace. There was a traffic jam.
Several more carriages waited up ahead while passengers descended from their vehicles and entered the house down the street.
There was a ball, judging by the crowd. Blake smirked. He wasn’t looking forward to socializing or encountering crowds of people. Truth be told, he didn’t want to see anyone except for his lovely wife. However, he couldn’t help but rejoice at the familiar view of aristocrats attending a social event.
He moved slowly toward his townhouse, looking around at the richly dressed lords and ladies as they passed him in their expensive carriages. He probably looked like a beggar, he thought wryly as he caught some disgruntled looks. In his sailor’s outfit, he did not look like an earl at all. At the moment, however, he didn’t care. Let them gawk all they wanted. Nothing could dim the happiness of finally being back home. Blake smiled as he moved along the street.
Several moments later, however, his amusement faded as he realized where all the richly dressed lords and ladies were headed. They were mounting the steps to his townhouse.
