Page 69 of The Devil and the Heiress
She stared at him, unable to believe that Christian had sold the one thing that had meant the most to him, the one thing that had started all of this. Without his love for Blythkirk, and the fire that had nearly destroyed it, he wouldn’t have attempted to run away with her. “Blink if he sold Blythkirk.”
He blinked.
Chapter 25
Lord Lucifer might have the Devil in his eyes, but his heart belonged to Rose, and she planned to keep it safe for all of her days.
V. Lennox,An American and the London Season
Christian grabbed the bar and pulled himself up until his feet left the floor and his chin rose over it. Pushing out the breath he’d been holding, he allowed himself to drop back down in a slow and controlled movement. He repeated the exercise in three sets of ten repetitions until the muscles in his arms, shoulders, and core screamed for mercy. Even then he did one more set to make certain he was good and exhausted.
Physical exertion was the only way he could get to sleep anymore. It couldn’t all be alcohol induced, not when he had full days scheduled and needed a clear head. He had taken to retiring to the gymnasium in the club most nights after the majority of patrons had left for the evening. He would finish his shift on the floor and then come here to relieve his excess energy and frustrations on the equipment. The room had originally been a ballroom. It was large and still boasted the fine wallpaper, moldings, and chandelier that had graced it when Thea had presided over the house.The ring in the corner was where most of their scheduled fights among the patrons and exhibitions occurred. The rest held equipment for exercise.
Sweat dripped from his hair and ran down his back as he let his feet touch the floor, a twinge of pain darting through his ankle.
“Ready now, milord?” Kostas, the attendant, asked, walking over with linen and batting to wrap his hands. Hitting the sandbag was how Christian preferred to end all of his exercise sessions.
“Yes, thank you.” Christian held the batting to his knuckles while Kostas wrapped the linen between his fingers before winding it around the cotton and his hand.
“You simply cannot—my lady, this is not done. We have confidentiality to maintain.” A commotion sounded from outside the open double doors. Christian recognized the voice of the club’s night butler a moment before he heard a feminine voice say in a distinctly American accent, “I do not care for your confidentiality agreement. Had you fetched my husband like I asked, this wouldn’t be necessary.”
Violet! Hand wraps not yet tied off, he hurried to the door just as she rushed into the room. She paused and looked faintly appalled when she saw him. The initial burst of joy he felt turned to caution. Shirtless in breeches and boots, his usual costume for bare-knuckle brawling matches that he had taken to wearing while exercising, he understood how he must look to her. Beastly and unrefined. His true nature. Perhaps it was only right that she saw him like this. There should be no pretending between them, not anymore.
“Is everything all right?” he asked. It was late, and she wasn’t dressed for a ball. He couldn’t fathom what had brought her here at all, much less at this hour. He didn’t dare think that she was here for any sort of reconciliation. He wouldn’t be able to deal with the disappointment when he learned he was wrong. Something must have happened to make her barge into the club.
She appeared to have trouble finding her voice, swallowing several times and looking away only to look back at him. The two other men who had been using the equipment had paused to watch them. “I think so. I must speak with you now, though. Privately.”
Assured that she was well, he began unwrapping his hands. “We can go to my suite.” At her nod of agreement, he handed the wraps off to Kostas and accepted the length of toweling in return. He wiped his face of sweat and shrugged into the dressing gown Kostas held for him.
The butler gave a huff but left them. Without a word, Christian accepted his cane from the attendant before leading her through the empty back rooms to the corridor that led to the second floor, which was where they all kept their personal rooms. The entire time he was aware of her, silent and rigid next to him, her censure a near tangible thing. If he had held any hope that her visit was a conciliatory one, he would have been mistaken. Luckily, he had given up that hope long ago as a fool’s blind faith.
Holding the door open for her, he followed her inside and closed it behind them. It made a deceptively quiet but ominous click. Suddenly, he was afraid to let her talk. Afraid that she would say the very words he knew to be true but had not been able to face this whole time. She wanted a divorce. He could not bring himself to imagine that she wanted anything else, not after her months of silence. If she asked for a divorce, he would be powerless to do anything except give it to her, but not before he shamed himself by falling to his knees and begging her to stay.
“Could I get you something?” He walked to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of water from the chilled pitcher that was left for him each night.
“No, thank you.”
From the corner of his eye he watched her hover, decide to take a seat on the sofa, only to change her mind at the last second and walk to the window. She was as beautifulas he remembered. Her hair shone under the gaslight, and her skin seemed luminous. In profile, he was reminded of how she had looked the day he had asked her father for her hand. The day they had sparred in the entryway outside her music room. Christ, what a fool he had been for her. He had loved her even then.
When she turned back to him and caught him watching, he couldn’t look away. She knew he was besotted with her, and he would look his fill until she left him. Her face was rounder, as if the angles had been softened in the time since he had last seen her. He couldn’t be certain, because they were covered by her gown, but the effect seemed to extend to her shoulders, and even her breasts appeared fuller than he remembered. God, he knew every inch of her so well, he actually felt saddened that he had missed these changes. That she was somehow different than she had been with him and he had missed out.
That made him look away. He was mad for her.Madness. It was the only word for the obsession that coursed through him. He would have thought it would have faded with her absence, but it had come roaring back with her return, greedy for all he had missed.
“Why are you here?” His voice was harsher than he meant for it to be.
She approached him, only stopping an arm’s length away. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that she had ventured too close. He took another drink of water to give himself something to do besides grab her.
“I read your essay. I thought it was very good.”
Her approval soothed him like a balm, seeping into the dark places he kept hidden. It was dangerous to allow himself to react to her so, but he couldn’t help it. “Is that why you’ve come? To tell me you approve of my stance?” A stance that would greatly benefit her. Yet even as he thought it, he didn’t care. She approved and that was enough.
“I also read an article about you in theTimes. Itmentioned your speech about children workers and the need to further limit their workday, and also the one about women in factories. I hadn’t known about those, but I very much appreciate your support. I suppose you might not know this, but I have been working with Helena and her charity—”
“I know.” He knew because he soaked up every bit of information about her like a bloody desert thirsty for rain. “I know, Violet.”
Her lips parted in surprise as if she might have had doubts that he was mad when it came to her. “Why did you make those speeches?”
“Because they are just and good causes.”Because they are things you support, because I want to be close to you even if it is by association.God, how low he had fallen.
