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Chapter 18
Blake stood in the ballroom sipping punch, watching as happy couples danced around the dancefloor. Just a few minutes ago, he had been building dreams of always having Annalise on his arm, of hosting events such as this every year with her by his side.
Now he knew he wouldn’t have that. He’d ruined it all.
She had lost their babe. And he wasn’t there when it happened. Hell, he hadn’t even been curious enough to ask. Surely he knew where babes came from. He’d just tried to push down the memories of their wedding night and move on. He was running from the past and not only his own, he realized, but theirs too. Because as lucky as he’d been to win Annalise’s heart, he was the arse who’d smashed it instead of keeping it safe.
I guess I owe Kensington gratitude, after all.He snorted.
“The wine not to your liking, my lord?”
Blake turned to the owner of the voice only to see Annalise’s friend, Lady Lavinia, standing by his side but staring ahead, watching the couples dance.
“It isn’t wine, my lady.” He inclined his head. “Perhaps that’s the issue.”
“I find the punch quite pleasing,” she said.
Blake just grunted in answer.
“I apologize in advance for overstepping my bounds, but I came to offer you a piece of advice.”
Blake turned and studied her curiously. “What advice could you possibly offer me?”
“To treat your wife with more care.”
“With all due respect, Lady Lavinia, the relationship between me and my wife is none of your concern.”
“But it is,” she said firmly.
“I don’t see how.”
“I am her childhood friend. Every sleepless night Annalise spent waiting for you, every day she cried because of you, I was there to pick up the pieces of her shattered soul and comfort her.”
“That was before.”
“Then what was tonight?”
Blake fisted his hands at his sides.
“You keep saying you’ve changed, and yet Annalise is crying in another room because of you. Again. You say you are not selfish anymore, and yet you put your ego ahead of her feelings, her wants, once again. You say you want her to be happy, and yet, she is miserable. I am afraid your actions speak volumes higher than your words.”
Blake stared ahead. “I am prepared to do anything to make her happy.”
“Anything?” she asked, with a strange lilt to her voice. “Then prove it. For once, put her wants ahead of your own.” Lady Lavinia took a sip of her drink and performed a perfect curtsy. “My Lord.”
She walked away, but the weight of her words would forever stay with Blake.
You say you want her to be happy, and yet, she is miserable. I am afraid your actions speak volumes higher than your words.The words rang in his mind. Hadn’t Annalise said something similar?
What a fucking hypocrite he was. And a daft one at that. He turned on his heel and stalked toward the exit. He needed to see his wife.
* * *
Blake entered the shadowy study. Annalise sat at the desk, her gaze distant. Her golden locks were elaborately gathered on her head, but he’d rather see them loose. Just one more time.
He peered into her face, trying to remember every line of her lovely features. She raised her head. Her beautiful blue eyes stared back at him, so vulnerable and full of hurt. Her rosy lips were pursed sternly.
Blake stood staring at Annalise, etching her likeness into his mind. They should have made a portrait together upon his return. Hell, just her portrait would do. He’d hang it on his bedroom ceiling to stare into her eyes every night.
