Page 69 of A Flaming Lady's Secret Valentine
Raphael’s swing halted mid-air. “No . . .” he breathed, slowly awakening from his rage. He looked around him at the carnage. His hands and shirt was speckled red. He did not know whose blood coated his knuckles, did not want to know. He scrambled away from Pincher, regarding him with cold fury. “Out,” he ordered once he was on his feet.
This time, Peter was inclined to do as he was told.
It took a long while before Raphael came back to his senses. When he did, his body screamed in pain. He had burst some of his knuckles open on Pincher’s face. Getting up, he plunged his hand into the contents of the kitchen basin.
The water turned red, and he felt around blindly for a dry rag. He wiped his face then wrapped it around his hand. Shrugging off his jacket, he leaned against the wall and slid down to the ground.
He could not have said how long he stayed there, staring into space and contemplating the remnants of his life. He had worked so hard for a sense of security, and in one fell swoop he had lost everything, chief of all his freedom.
All at once he was overcome by a feeling that screamed only,Protect! Run! Survive!Suddenly, Raphael was packing a bag. He was not sure what drove him, whether it was fear of Pincher’s retribution or fear of lashing out against Cecilia. He knew only that he needed to leave and leave fast. He was no good to Cecilia in his state, no good to anyone.
The duke said Raphael was expected in Norwich that afternoon. Once he had cleaned himself up, he could take the carriage into town and then take another andanotheras far as he could go, until finally he could shirk his daemons for good.
Raphael did not hear when the door opened. He did not hear someone tiptoe into the room and whisper, “Egad.” But he saw Edward catch him with his portmanteau and inspect him with dread in his eyes.
“Travers . . . what in God’s name has happened to you?”
Chapter 24
Raphael had spent a lifetime running from his past, yet when Edward had asked to hear the truth of it, he had been powerless to lie. Of course, the story of his rise had only come after Edward’s own revelation, delivered while he struggled to wrap Raphael’s hand in a slightly cleaner tea towel.
“All of this is because of Cecilia, is no tit?” Edward asked. Raphael did not have it in him to be shocked. He sat on the floor watching Edward pace, having completed his work on his hand. “I do not know why I bothered asking. Only my sister could twist your life into a scene fromThe Divine Comedy. It is always the quiet ones.”
Edward hummed disapprovingly and came to a stand. He dragged Raphael up, then picked up the fallen armchair.
“You knew?” Raphael rasped, surprised by the weakness of his voice.
“Of course I knew. The two of you were not exactly discreet about it. Well, not to anyone who knows you. Cecilia started to smile, and you started to brood, and it was only a matter of time before someone connected the dots.” Edward put his hands on his hips. “For the record, you should be glad it was I who got there first. Go on, then. Put me out of my misery.”
Raphael nodded and closed his eyes. Eventhathurt. “If I betrayed your trust, I am sorry.”
Edward laughed. “If?Iffff?You compromised my sister. There is no ‘if’ about it. Though I am sure Cecilia had her part to play from the God-awful way she’s been moping around. Are you carrying on with her still?”
“After this, who can say. She’s betrothed, is she not?”
“Not,” Edward said, and it was the most bittersweet word to have ever been spoken. “I believe my dear father may have jumped the gun, as it were. Radcliff proposed, aye, but Cecilia has yet to give an answer. But you love her?”
“I love her.” The words did little to redeem him, he knew. “She is not. . . This is not a game to me.”
“I should hope not. It is a lot to gamble on a game of love.” Edward stalked around the wrecked living space, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “You are surprisingly calm about all this. I was hoping for more theatrics from you. Though you are not like that, are you? Spoilsport. Are you not going to ask me what I intend to do?”
“What do you intend to do?” Raphael said.
“I intend to make this work for you, one way or another. Like I said earlier, I take care of my friends.”
As he watched Edward begin to tidy up his home, Raphael realised how deeply involved Edward had been in the affair. His constant pressuring him to move abroad . . . had been a safety net for Raphael in case things ended with Cecilia. He had been on their side from the first.
“Your offer . . .” was all Raphael said at first. Edward rolled his eyes as if to say,Well, obviously!“What else have you done?”
“Among other things, setting you up at the masquerade, covering for you with father more times than I can count, the constant bloody chaperoning to make sure Cecilia did not succumb to Radcliff’s pleading . . . I am sure there is more, but it is hard to keep up with all my acts of altruism.”
“Far be it from me to state the obvious, but . . . why? I cannot be your first choice for Cecilia.”
Edward sifted through the linens he had collected from the floor, not bothering to fold them as he shoved them into the drawers. “Now you are just phishing for compliments. You are a good man, Travers. I could not care less about your lack of title. If you make Cecilia happy, that is good enough for me.”
For the first time in his life, Raphael felt the weight of his inadequacy lift from his shoulders.All because of Edward’s scheming.
“It will not be the same for my father, you realise. He will not look twice at any bachelor who is not of the nobility.”
