Page 42 of A Raven Reborn

Rosalyn laughed. “You didn’t see him out there, Finch.”

“I didn’t need to see him. I know him.” He waited for her to sit back down. “He cares about you, Rosie, and he’s afraid he may have lost you. He’s angry at himself, and probably the rest of the world, but not you.”

Why did her traitorous heart trip over itself at those words? “He hardly knows me, Finch.”

He tilted his head slightly, and even between his swollen lids, she could see the mirth in his eyes. Warmth climbed up her neck and filled her cheeks. His implication wasn’t wrong, though. Patrick may have only known her for a short time, but he knew her more intimately than anyone else in the world.

“There’s something special about you, Rosie.”

She scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Finch shook his head. “Then answer me this. When he took you from that brothel, why did he bring you home?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “For some reason he felt compelled to save me from that place.”

“Yes,” Finch said, taking a deep breath as if he was explaining something to a child. “But why didn’t he just bring you here?”

“I…” She looked around the room as if she might find an answer to that question written on the walls. “I don’t know,” she said once more.

“To be fair, I’m not sure even he knows the answer to that question.”

“Well,” she said with a bit of a huff. She didn’t know how to feel about these revelations. And, special or not, it didn’t change the reality of their circumstances. “One day he is going to want a proper wife, Finch, and he can’t very well do that if he’s already married to me.”

“And what makes you think you can’t be a proper wife?”

Rosalyn scoffed again. “He’s the son of a marquess, Finch.”

“The second son of a marquess, who obviously doesn’t put much stock in society’s rules.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” she said quietly, picking at her thumbnail. “He didn’t ask me to be a proper wife. He offered to send me away and keep me safe.” She looked up at Finch again. “It’s as if he thinks I’m a china doll,” she said with a shrug.

“He’s not always the quickest bunny in the forest, our Patrick, but he means well.” Finch chuckled. “Give him time, Rosie. He’ll figure it out. And in the meantime, talk to him. Tell him what you want.”

Finch shifted in the bed. “Now, I need to get up and move around a bit, and I’m afraid I’m not dressed for company. Think on what I’ve said, Rosie.”

She nodded and walked to his bedside. “Thank you, Finch,” she said, placing another gentle kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be back to visit with you again soon.”

“I’ll look forward to it!”

* * *

Patrick heard a commotion in the hallway, heavy footfalls, along with a skittering noise and his new young servant’s voice.

“But sir, I don’t believe his lordship is at home.”

“Just leave it, Alfred,” Patrick called down the hall. “He’s the only one who can have rules. The rest of us must simply bend to his wishes.”

When Ash arrived at the door to Patrick’s study, he leaned against the jamb. He rested both of his hands atop his cane, an arrogant brow raised, and one side of his mouth lifted in a smirk.

“His lordship, eh?” Ash said with a chuckle. Patrick merely rolled his eyes.

“What makes you think you’re welcome in my house, Ash?”

“Oh, on the contrary.” He pushed himself away from the doorframe and sauntered over, making himself comfortable in the chair across from Patrick. “I assumed I would not be welcome, but I came anyway.”

“Well then,” Patrick leaned back with a sigh and clasped his hands in his lap. “Say whatever it is you came to say so you can leave.”

“I mostly just came to see if you were drinking so I know if Michael needs to cover you at the club tonight.”

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