Page 15 of A Raven Repents

She was so conflicted. She wanted to hate the man, but paying off her father’s debt was not something he’d had to do. It was incredibly generous, which contradicted every interaction she’d had with him. But what if it wasn’t as it appeared, and he had ulterior motives? Perhaps he’d done it because it gave him the upper hand somehow.

She breathed out a quick sigh. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t like it either, my dear.”

She wanted him to fight, not commiserate. But, at least with his debts paid, he might be able to live a happy life. “Perhaps you can find yourself a lovely wife, then. Someone to keep you company, and darn your socks.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps.”

Her father’s visit only increased her loneliness once he was gone. Tired of staring at the wood-paneled walls, she wandered outside. When she had arrived with her husband, it was dark, and she hadn’t seen any of the surrounding land. From the looks of it, it was vast. Rolling green lawns, edged by thick woods whose leaves were just beginning to turn.

The enormity of the house became even more evident as she meandered around its perimeter. But in the back, she discovered a lovely garden with a pair of benches in its center. She sat, her mind still spinning. It didn’t make any sense. Why had her husband paid her father’s debts? And why had he said it was for her? She hadn’t even asked him to do that. It never occurred to her that he might.

For some reason, the knowledge that he had done something kind, only made her detachment from him feel stronger. He certainly hadn’t hesitated in abandoning her, and very clearly didn’t want anything to do with her. So why had he done it? She shivered. Perhaps from the breeze that ruffled her shawl, or perhaps because she felt more lost than ever.

Lavinia would be coming in a few days. Maybe she would have some kind of insight. If nothing else, her presence would at least help to ease the loneliness.

Chapter

Four

Giles’ life wasn’t exactly as it had been before, but pretty close. He’d spent the last several nights working at The Raven’s Den, and it was nearly perfect, even without his keys. But tonight was his night off, and he was on his way to attend another masquerade. This time he would find an actual widow and make up for being cheated out of the bedsport he’d been looking for the last time.

“I’m glad to see you back, Mr. Henderson.” Lady Hempsted held out a hand and he raised it to his lips.

At least the mothers would keep their distance now that he was married. He whisked the word aside. He couldn’t think about that. Wouldn’t think about her. Not right now.

“Lady Aspenworth is here tonight.” Lady Hempsted raised her brow and pointed to the refreshments table.

“Thank you.” He gave a nod and strode across the room.

“Good evening.” He picked up a lemon tart. “Lady Hempsted’s cook makes delicious tarts. Have you tasted one yet?”

Lady Aspenworth’s lips turned up slowly. “I haven’t had the pleasure. Do you think she’ll mind if we take a pair of them with us?”

“I doubt she’ll even notice. Especially if we exit via the veranda.”

She didn’t hesitate to walk straight out the door. Her laughter floated up to him as she hurried down the steps ahead of him. Her townhouse was just next door, and he’d visited a handful of times before. He followed her inside and into the sitting room.

He held up a tart and she opened her mouth, but as she took a bite, the picture that flashed into his mind was of his wife’s lips. Shame washed through him like acid in his veins. What was he doing? He closed his eyes with a long sigh.

“I’m sorry, Lady Aspenworth.”

“Lady Aspenworth? That definitely means you’ve changed your mind.”

He chuckled cynically. “I’ve just remembered I’m married.”

She placed a hand on his arm. “Your lucky wife will never know how loyal you are.”

“I’m not sure that’s what I’d call it. I am here in your drawing room, feeding you a tart, after all.”

“And what do you suppose she’s up to?”

“Not that,” he said firmly, but she merely raised a brow.

In the days that followed, her words continued to haunt him. Not that he actually believed his wife was having an affair. But he didn’t have any idea what she was up to. He’d just left her there, all alone in a strange house.

Thistle stopped in the middle of tying his tie. “Is something wrong, sir?”