Page 43 of A Raven Reborn

“Fuck.” Of course. He was supposed to be on duty tonight. How did he forget? It was as if everything in his life outside of Rosie had ceased to exist. He cursed again under his breath, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. The clock on the mantel read just past noon.

“I’ll be sober before we open.”

Ash nodded but looked less than convinced. “So are you going to tell me what happened?” He lifted his left ankle to rest on his other knee and picked a spec of dirt from his boot.

“Apparently, living in your compound is more appealing than being married to me,” Patrick said, shaking his head. “What I don’t understand,” he said, his brow furrowing, “is how she knew to go there. I never told her about the place, or the ladies it houses.” His tone was accusatory, even to his own ears.

“And what, you think I lured her there?” His foot dropped back to the floor and he sat forward. “Don’t be stupid, Patrick. When I got to her, she was standing in front of Maison Rouge. Luckily, she’d managed to make it there unharmed, and I arrived before she went inside.” He stood then and leaned across the desk. “I,”—he pointed at his own chest—“tracked her down. I convinced her not to go inside. I got her somewhere safe. So you’re welcome!” His voice was raised, uncharacteristically.

It took a moment for the words to fully register. She’d been willing to return to Maison Rouge. Ash had saved her from a terrible fate, and Patrick had been too caught up in his own self-pity to even consider that possibility.

Patrick blew out a long breath. “I suppose you owe me a wallop.” He managed to at least look Ash in the eye.

“Indeed I do.” Ash nodded and sat back down, folding his arms once more. It was a measure of their friendship that they never had to say I’m sorry. They just knew. Of course Ash had been on Patrick’s side. He always would be.

“Drink?” Patrick lifted the decanter and then remembered he was supposed to be sobering up and set it back down. Ash was drumming his fingers impatiently on his bicep.

“Alright.” Patrick let out a long sigh. Without getting into details, he told Ash about Rosie’s past and why he had offered marriage. It sounded perfectly reasonable to him, but Ash was laughing by the time he finished.

“I’m glad you find so much joy in my misery.” He swallowed the last of the brandy that was in his glass.

“I had no idea you were so clueless, Patrick. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She obviously cares for you.”

“Oh really? Then why, pray tell, did she decide working in a brothel was preferable to becoming my wife?”

“Perhaps because you didn’t offer her the opportunity to be your wife. Instead, you said you’d ship her off to live as a recluse at one of your country estates. Does that sound like a life you’d want to live?”

“I’m just trying to keep her safe.”

“Well, you have what you want, then. You know how seriously I take the safety and welfare of the Lady Ravens.”

“No!” He stood up so fast, his chair tipped over behind him as he slammed his palms down on the desk. “She will not be a Lady Raven!” The thought of her on display in his club for every man in there to ogle made fury erupt within him.

Ash merely raised his brow. “I don’t believe that is your decision to make.”

Patrick tried to sit back down, but the chair was not there, so he landed hard on his backside on the floor. He cursed loudly as a bark of laughter erupted on the opposite side of the desk. Grabbing the empty tumbler from the desktop, he threw it at Ash, but it landed across the room where it shattered.

“Are we having a tantrum?” Ash’s laughter continued. Yes, he was having a tantrum. He got slowly to his feet and righted the chair. Holding onto its arms, he took in a deep breath and held it, allowing his anger and frustration to diminish.

Seating himself, he looked at Ash, who’d managed to get his laughing mostly under control now and was simply smiling.

“What would you recommend I do, then?” he asked in earnest.

Ash’s smile slowly morphed into one of pity. Apparently, the answer was an obvious one.

“Please, Ash. I’m putting my pride aside right now and asking for your help. Do you have to make me feel like a simpleton in the process?”

“Look,” he said, more serious now. “I don’t have all the answers. God knows I’m no expert when it comes to relationships. I think you should have just brought her to Raven House in the first place and then we wouldn’t be here right now.” He shrugged and clasped his hands in his lap. “But since you didn’t, and we are here, perhaps you should stop trying to save her, and try wooing her instead?”

It sounded like great advice, and would have been, if he wasn’t also trying to protect Rosie from his own lustful advances. Wooing her wouldn’t take away the things that happened in her past. It wouldn’t make being intimate with him any less difficult. He had to do something to at least get her talking to him again, and then he’d figure out a way to keep her safe.

ChapterFifteen

Rosie made her way back to Daisy’s room. She closed the door softly, trying her best not to wake her. Pulling A Christmas Carol from within her makeshift parcel, she held it to her nose and breathed in deeply. It smelled like Patrick. Well, it smelled like his flat, anyway. And its pages were even imbued with the barest hint of brandy. How could she miss him so much when he'd been in her life such a short time? She held the book tightly against her chest as she lowered herself into the chair in front of the fireplace. A single tear dripped from the corner of her eye, but then a flood of tears quickly followed, and a cascade flowed, like twin rivers, down her cheeks.

It wasn’t all about Patrick, though. Rosalyn felt so lost. Even as the tears began to slow, her heart pounded inside her chest. What if she had made a mistake leaving Patrick?

“He’s not worth it, love.” Daisy sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed. She rubbed her eyes and yawned loudly.

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