by K. Webster
His lips quirk up into a half smile and I drop my gaze to my empty plate. “I see. Well then, it should be nice to have another person to converse with. As of late, supper around here has been quite a dull affair.”
The jab at Hugh is a bold one. His exhalation of breath is enough to satisfy me. I don’t need to see his red, angry face to know that I infuriated him.
“Cora, dear,” Hugh grumbles. “Your mouth may get you into much trouble one of these days. It isn’t unheard of for the man of the house to put another man’s wife in her place while he is away.”
Oliver chuckles and I glance up at him.
“Father, she’s only trying to goad you. The woman is harmless. Leave her be.”
I flash him a thankful smile to which he winks in return before launching into talk of the recent successes of the factories. When he speaks, he’s all smiles and twinkling eyes. I find myself staring at him. Watching his lips move. Noticing the way his hands gesture in a spirited way. He’s quite a mesmerizing person to watch.
Dinner drones on and I keep quiet, counting down the minutes until I may retreat back into my lonely room. Oliver has certainly drawn Hugh’s attention away from me while we eat, which is a lovely change, but I still cannot wait to leave the vulgar, old man’s presence.
When dinner is over, I make haste out of the room and scurry down the hallways. I hear someone stalking after me and as they draw closer, I snatch the nearest thing—a candlestick—prepared to defend myself.
Oliver’s eyes widen at seeing me wield the long, heavy piece of metal as a weapon.
“Dear Lord, has he been bothering you to a degree that you must feel you need to protect yourself? The old man’s always had a penchant for young, beautiful women but I never thought they had a reason to fear him.”
I sigh and set the candlestick down. “No disrespect, but your father is an animal. I can assure you, Emmett will learn as much when he returns.”
Oliver takes a step closer to me and my heart rate quickens at his closeness. “Darling, I shall protect you until my brother returns. It would be my honor.”
Relief surges through me at the prospect of having someone keeping that disgusting man away from me.
“Oh, my, that is a generous offer. As much as I would like to deny it, I will not. It would please me greatly if you could look after me, Oliver.”
His eyes fall on my lips when I say his name and he smiles. “I will live to please you then, Cora.”
The underlying meaning in his words isn’t missed by me and my cheeks blaze in response. I’m about to bid him good evening when he reaches for me.
“Come to the sitting room with me and have a drink. I am quite bored in this big house and would love to hear more about you.”
I stare at his hand as if it is a viper. But, the lure of having someone to converse with, besides myself, is tempting. This is why I find myself reaching for his hand. When our hands connect, a heat floods through me. I’m unsure if it is from embarrassment or something altogether sinful.
He gives it a squeeze before guiding me back down the hallways to the windowless room where I first accepted Emmett’s notion of marriage. Once he pushes through the door, a chill of air gusts out and chills my flesh. I wait until he’s lit one of the gaslights before following him inside the cool room that I haven’t visited in four long months.
“Could I interest you in a drink?” he questions with his back to me.
I flit my eyes over to the sofa where not long ago Emmett dazzled me with his romantic words and sweet caresses. I’d fallen for him so easily, only to learn later that he could switch moods easily and not be anything near the gentle, beautiful man from before. The reminder sours my stomach and I have the urge to swipe the decanter of liquor right from a nearby table—to hear the glass break like my heart did on the evening of our wedding.
“I’ll have something hot,” I say with a shiver.
Oliver peers over his shoulder at me and his lips quirk up into a half-grin that sends another chill down my spine.
“Would you like me to light the fireplace? Or would you rather me keep you warm in my arms?” His honey-colored eyes darken as his smile grows.
The Claxton men are all so bold.
“A fire would be nice,” I clip out.
He chuckles, the sound doing its part to warm me, as he saunters over to the small brick fireplace I hadn’t noticed last time. I take a seat on the soft couch while he kneels to get the fire started. His trousers hug his muscular thighs and I can’t help but appreciate the lovely things it does for his form. The man is incredibly handsome, which is exactly why I need to look away from him. I have my own handsome husband—his brother no less.
Once the fire is blazing, I smile as warmth makes it my way. Oliver sets to pouring some drinks and I frown when he hands me a tumbler filled with an amber liquid that nearly matches his eyes.
“I wanted tea,” I tell him, a slight pout in my voice.
He reaches forward and pushes a curl out of my eyes. “There are a lot of things I want, darling. But sometimes we have to work with what was given to us.”
I swallow at his words and drop my eyes to the glass in my hands. It feels wrong being in here with him. Alone. And yet, I’m strangely drawn to him and his affections. As of late, I’ve only had the attention of Hugh and that makes me want to expel my dinner all over my exquisite dress. Having this man beside me tease and converse with me is nice. It is most definitely a nice break from the loneliness of the past four months.
“I can see you miss my brother,” he says in a gentle tone. “He’s lucky to have you.”
I take a sip of the whiskey and wince when it burns my throat. “I do miss him. And he is certainly lucky, especially how he behaved after our first night together. He is lucky I’m still here.”
My eyes find the widened ones of Oliver. He drains his glass and swallows before regarding me with a scowl. “Why do you stay then, Mrs. Claxton?”
The way he drawls out my name causes me to stiffen my spine. “Because I agreed to this union. We only had a short period together before he whisked away for business. And despite the way he left so abruptly, I won’t give up on him. At least not until we’ve had time to properly test to see if this marriage will work out or not.”
He pours more of the whiskey into his glass before his eyes drag back over to mine. I sip some more from my tumbler and enjoy the warmth it instills within me.
“And if it doesn’t,” he questions with a heated gaze, “work itself out? What shall you do then, Mrs. Claxton?”
My heart beats loudly in my chest and I can almost hear it in my ears. “I would tarnish my name and carry on back to the countryside to live out the rest of my years as a spinster.”
His laughter bellows from him and it startles me. When he doesn’t quit laughing, I glare at him.
“Something you find clever?”
He downs the rest of his second glass without as much as a flinch. “You, my darling, are the clever one. However, you must be daft if you don’t think you’d have a flock of would-be suitors tugging at the hem of your dress all the way to the country,” he says in a husky voice. “Including myself.”
Chapter Six
Panic washes over me and for a moment I fear he’ll attempt to have his way with me, like his father. Instead, he takes my glass from my trembling fingers and refills both of ours. Once I have my glass back, he withdraws the letter from his front pocket.
“I believe you wanted to read this?”
My heart soars with joy. Only moments before, I was allowing the man before me to entertain me and yet now, all I crave is to read a sweet love letter from my husband. It saddens me that he’s taken so long to write it.
“Thank you, sir,” I say in a breathy voice as he hands me the letter.
However, he doesn’t release the crème-colored paper and instead covers my hand with his other one. “It is my pleasure, darling. Anything to see those blue eyes sparkle like a lake on a warm su
mmer day. If I am frank, I’m absolutely captivated by you.”
I gasp and risk a glance at his amber eyes that have darkened with his words.
“Perhaps you should captivate yourself with a woman that is unattached. I’m spoken for, remember?” My attempt to be bold is futile as my voice shakes with uncertainty.
He nods with a quick dip of his chin and releases me. “How could I ever forget? I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, Cora. You see, I’m a lonely lad myself. I’ve been all over Europe chasing after empty notions that promise happiness. After years of loneliness, I came back home to make amends with my family. For the first time in quite some time, I discover something beautiful and exquisite—something that fills me with the very thing I had been chasing only to realize it belongs to that of another. Forgive me for my forward nature. It is the Claxton blood that makes us this way. I can live with a simple friendship. We both could use someone to talk to, am I correct?”
I release the breath I’d been holding and relax. Because of his father, I have found myself nervous and wary in Oliver’s presence. But his presence isn’t menacing or anything I must be afraid of. In fact, when he isn’t behaving as if he would like to court me, I do enjoy myself around him.
“Yes, thank you. A friend would be lovely.”
He beams at my words and I can’t help but smile back at him.
“Well, friend, please read your letter. I apologize the seal has been broken. My nosy father already took it upon himself to read the letter,” he huffs out. “I won’t break my promise. I shall keep you safe until my brother returns.”
His words wash over me and I bask in them. “You’re too kind.”
He winks at me and I force my gaze from his to open the letter from my husband. My smile is immediate to see his messy scrawling on the paper.
Dearest Wife,
It is with my sincerest apologies that I haven’t written much sooner. The damage to our fleet was widespread and devastating. I have been passing each moment interviewing locals and hunting for clues as to whichever criminal attempted to ruin our shipyard and the Claxton name. Because of the damages, it is certain that it was a gang of men, simply not one.
At night, when I desperately fight to keep my eyes open to pen a letter to you, I am too overcome with exhaustion. However, I fall into slumber with your stunning smile the last of my thoughts.
One day soon, I shall return and spoil you as I have not had the opportunity to do. Please do not give up on me, love. I promise to make it right.
Yours,
Emmett
I swallow down the guilt and chew on my lip to keep from crying. My poor husband has been thinking only of me while he works and yet here I was enjoying the attentions of his brother. What a foolish woman!
“Cora…”
Blinking my eyes to drive away the tears, I then glance up at Oliver. “I shouldn’t be here with you.”
He frowns and sets his glass down on the table. “I was out of line earlier, darling. But it won’t happen again. We’re friends, remember? I want to be someone you can talk to. Please trust me.”
His brows are pinched together and his darting eyes allude to the notion that he is, indeed, sincere.
“Mr. Claxton, I appreciate your kindness. I need a friend and I will certainly indulge your offer. However, I am not feeling well. Could you perhaps escort me to my bedchambers for the evening? My heart is aching and I wish to lie down.”
Disappointment washes over his features, but he nods. “Certainly, darling.”
He stands and extends his hand to me. I set down the untouched alcohol and reach for it. His hand is warm and comforting in mine. When he doesn’t release it and instead tugs me from the room and down the series of hallways, I selfishly take comfort in the gesture. The letter surprised me. I had expected something cold, like how Emmett had left me. Instead, the man I fell for so easily had penned those words.
When we arrive to my door, I pull my hand from his grasp. “Thank you, Oliver.”
His mouth opens as if he wants to say something, but instead he snaps it closed. The honey in his eyes swirls with emotion and I tear my gaze from his, focusing on the window instead. His hand lifts and he pushes a curl from my eyes before he lets out a sigh. Without another word, he turns and stalks down the hallway until he’s out of my sight.
Tears threaten and I don’t understand why. Emmett’s letter has only caused my heart to break a little more. And the loneliness that always surrounds me, seeps a little more inside. I barely make it into my bedchambers before I’m a sobbing mess.
“Eloise, please fetch the invitation from my study and bring it here,” Hugh instructs my friend and house servant.
She’s a little more tolerant at his brash way of speaking than I am. Each time he speaks, I must suppress a shudder.
“Aye, sir,” she peeps out, her cheeks flushing pink as she scurries off.
Some days I long for an alternate world. A world where a woman isn’t made to feel second best to that of a man. A world where she could travel alongside her husband as his rightful companion—not left at home due to her imagined frailty.
I’m no frail woman.
But I am educated and respectful. My parents did not spend their years bringing me up to be the woman I am, only to have me toss it all away to run home back to them at the first sign of discomfort. Despite growing up in a home where my parents behaved as equals, I know they are the exception.
I’d simply indulged in the fantasy that Emmett and I were the exception as well. Or at least, that we could be. Unfortunately, living under the same roof as his father means otherwise. Hugh Claxton is of old London blood and only believes in the archaic way of thinking.
I manage to keep my eyes on my limp piece of meat and dice it into tiny pieces while Eloise is gone. Oliver and Hugh discuss some acquisitions of a Mr. Hudson’s small coal factory on the outskirts of the city. Hugh has already presented him with a handsome offer that the man is mulling over. It is my hope that Hugh will be successful in his purchase and spend most of his time away, doing whatever it is he does when he acquires something new.
“Here ‘tis, sir,” Eloise chirps as she shuffles back into the room, causing me to end my task of murdering the meat on my plate.
When she hands him the envelope, I don’t miss the way he touches her hand. I worry that now that Oliver is here to protect me, Hugh will simply move on to another one. A woman he’ll have a much easier time controlling. Rage simmers in my chest and I have the urge to make a mess with his face like I did with the meat in front of me.
“Mrs. Claxton,” Hugh barks, interrupting my pleasant thoughts of hurting him. “Do you understand?”
I jerk my gaze over to his smug one. “I’m sorry, I must have been lost to a day dream.”
“I was informing you of your invitation to an engagement ball at Baroness Thorold’s London estate tomorrow evening. Her son is set to marry Margaret Hussey from Devonshire,” he explains as if I know who these people are.
The notion of leaving this dark, gloomy prison, even for one night, is exciting.
“Oh, that’s splendid. I shall have Eloise assist me in finding an appropriate dress,” I tell him, forcing a smile his way.
His eyes drop to my mouth and he grunts. “You aren’t going unescorted, dear. I shall—”
“Father, you’re busy. Why don’t you let me escort Mrs. Claxton instead? I have no plans and don’t mind spending my evening hobnobbing with the Thorold’s. After all, I was a good friend of Thomas’ until my untimely departure. I am sure he will be pleased to catch up with an old friend.” Oliver’s eyes find mine. They’re warm and full of promise. I shall protect you, Cora.
I flash him a thankful smile before waiting for his father to answer.
“Very well. Escort the lady.”
Oliver and I exchange a glance—like two young children that got away with something. The thought causes me to giggle. Hugh’s gaze burns through and I avoid his stare. Instea
d, I meet Oliver’s playful look. When he winks at me, my cheeks blaze. He starts to chuckle, a warm vibration that dances beneath my skin, and I am glad for his presence.
ABOUT THIS STORY:
Rose knows all about the ugly. Her mother didn’t want her. Her father couldn’t stay for her. And her sister was brutally torn from her before her sixteenth birthday. Her handsome older brother-in-law, Tate, is all she has left.
They both lost the one they loved most and now face the world bitterly together.
Eventually, their love blooms and it’s littered with thorns as the two become an unstoppable force who con evil bastards out of their fortunes.
They aren’t good people.
But then again, most people aren’t.
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Prologue
Rosemary
Two years old and abandoned.
By your own mother.
Dad always said she was depressed. It wasn’t our fault. That having two children was simply too much for the unstable woman to handle. Yet, I can’t help but think everything was fine—before me.
I’ve seen the pictures that Dad tried to hide in albums he kept in his cedar chest at the end of his bed. Pictures of the three of them. All smiling. Happy. Complete. Willa’s strawberry-blonde hair was an exact match to that of Dad’s. My father, the man who saved my mother from an abusive trailer in Houston and married her into a middle class suburb that was safe. Safe from the hateful past and darkness that bled, black and dirty, down her family tree. In those pictures, you could see she was every bit the damsel no longer in distress that had been saved by her pure prince, with his eyes bluer than any sea. Mom gazed upon my sister in those pictures as if the tiny replica of my father was an angel sent right from heaven. A free pass from the darkness that always shadowed her.