Chapter 11
He’d left without her.
Rosaline haunted the halls of Hespera House for days, languishing like a ghost denied the paradise promised beyond this life.
The night she’d been caught, she mustered the courage to go back to their room, hoping she’d given him enough time to cool down. Finding their bed empty, she’d sat and waited for him to return…
And woke late the next morning, as alone as she’d ever been.
Rushing into the foyer, she’d noted her luggage was still piled neatly next to the door. Eli’s, however, was gone. No goodbye. No note. No message left with the servants.
The trip was to have taken four days and three nights, and Rosaline decided that when Eli came home, he’d return to a different wife.
Her first order of business was to return everything as she’d vowed to do, arranging the pilfered items just so in the places she’d found them.
Second, she sorted through the rest of her trove, and identified where and to whom each item initially belonged.
It took a bit of doing, but she was able to post almost everything back to the original owner.
Anonymously, of course.
Tertiary, she threw every part of herself into the conquering of this dilemma, setting up a routine that eased her internal suffering.
The thing about taking was, it resolved her misery for long periods of time.
These rituals, the turning on of lights, counting the stairs, counting the brushstrokes in her hair and the seconds in which she cleaned her teeth.
They allowed her to live without taking, but consumed so much of her time.
So much of herself. And the internal pressure release was certainly more short-lived.
It didn’t matter. It was how she’d cull her awful behavior.
Could she show this to him when he returned, this strategy she’d enacted? Did it make her seem more or less mad?
Perhaps he’d put her in an institution. It was what many husbands did when displeased by their wives.
And she’d actually deserve to be there.
Because her obsessive suffering was surely lunacy.
The idea filled her with so much terror, she doubled down on her diligence.
Emmett had been returned from one of those places a pale, sallow shadow of his former self. He refused to speak of what befell him there, but the bleak torment in his eyes when the subject was broached told her enough about what sort of hell it was.
Surely Eli had more compassion for his wife than to lock her away.
Perhaps not for a thief.
Because Rosaline couldn’t face their bed alone, she spent her nights curled up on the sofa in the observatory, watching the winter sky.
Missing him.
It was a strange thing to love such a self-possessed and yet uncouth man.
She couldn’t predict from one moment to the next what societal rules he would revere, and which one’s he’d ignore.
He spoke his mind, and it was often both cutting and insightful.
A cynic was her husband, but an amusing one.
It was difficult to express the exact sense of satisfaction lent by the knowledge that such a toughened man held her in such tender regard.
She thought of how suddenly he’d fall asleep after their lovemaking, swift as a cat next to a fireplace after a bowl of cream.
Rosaline would watch him slide from consciousness to slumber, going visibly lax, in awe of such an ability.
His jaw, most often hard enough to chisel steel from stone would unclench, softening the tight line of his lips to a more sensuous curve. She found the dissonance wildly erotic.
How could she have only known him for three weeks and already feel as if a part of her was missing when they were separated?
Would she ever again get the chance to share his bed? His time?
His life?
She’d learned early that trust took years, sometimes a lifetime, to build and only one moment to break.
But she’d do it. She’d put in the years if that’s what he required.
She waited in the front parlor the entire afternoon that they’d been scheduled to return from Devon, reading the same page of a book for hours without remembering a word.
Practicing the emphatic speech she’d prepared, she would sometimes get up to pace the floor, delivering the words for the kittens to critique. Then to the mirror until she was satisfied.
Then she’d try the book again, until the ticking of the wall clock threatened to drive her over the edge with its taunting.
When the last vestiges of daylight faded without a word or sign of his return, Rosaline snatched up her frockcoat and called over to Cresthaven.
Emmett and Emmaline were the only two alive who knew of her compulsive proclivity, and they’d had to dig within themselves for forgiveness when she’d taken some of their items in the past. They always treated her with sympathy, even though she didn’t miss their worried glances at each other.
They forgave, but neither of them understood.
How could anyone?
Entering through the garden door, she found the house rather quiet, and followed the only sounds she could make out to the main parlor.
There, Commander Carlton Morley, a knight of the realm and perhaps one of the most dignified and powerful men in the city, sat cross-legged on the rug arranging blocks with his year-old twins, Charlotte and Caroline.
Happening upon the tableau had bloomed an ache deep in her womb.
In her experience, Morley’s only concession to indolence was rolling his sleeves to the elbows in the summer.
But tonight, he’d abandoned his shoes and his vest, thrilling his twin daughters with silly smiles and rich laughter, those ice shards he had for eyes having melted into pools of brilliant love.
“Rosaline,” he greeted warmly as she left the shadow of the doorway. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I’m sorry to intrude. I was hoping to find Emmaline.”
Picking up Caroline, he held her above his face as she squealed with glee.
“I’ve been abandoned tonight, I’m afraid, as Emma and Pru took pity on Emmett and tagged along while Lucy dragged him to a lecture on lepidopterology, poor chap.
” Lowering his child, he made a rude noise against her belly, which caused her to squeal with glee.
“Butterflies are boring. Aren’t they, darling?
Yes, they are. I’d much rather spend an evening with these beauties. ”
In reply to her father’s adoration, Caroline sneezed into his open mouth.
Making a face, he set her next to her sister and wiped his features with a handkerchief. “Though I’ll admit the society is a bit less sophisticated and quite likely to start randomly leaking from a myriad of places.”
A yearning, yawning sadness banded around her ribs as she greeted her nieces with sloppy kisses and a stroke of each downy cheek. How blessed Prudence was in her match. Men rarely looked after their own children, leaving it largely to the mother or nannies.
What sort of father would Eli make? Heavy-handed like her own? Or soft-hearted like Morley?
“You’ve not heard from Eli, have you?” she queried with false tranquility. “He was supposed to return from Devon early this afternoon, and I’ve not heard from him yet. I was wondering if I should worry.”
“I thought you’d gone with him to Devon, or I would have looked in on you.” Morley sent her an apologetic look, and she wondered if anyone else had brothers as dear as hers.
“No need. I was feeling under the weather, so it was decided I should stay and rest. I’d not have made good company.”
Morley nodded. “You do seem a bit pale, should I send for a doctor?”
“No, I’m much improved, thank you.”
“I’m surprised Eli wouldn’t stop at home to check on your well-being before taking himself off to Northwalk Hall.” His fair brows drew together in an expression of vague disapproval.
“What is at Northwalk Hall?”
“The antiquities auction, did he not mention?” He looked at her askance.
“I must have forgotten,” she rushed. “I’m not familiar with Northwalk Hall.”
“Well, the auction used to be elsewhere, but the manse was recently lost to a fire, so this year Dorian and Farrah Blackwell have offered to host it in their grand ballroom.”
“I thought you were friends with Blackwell and the Countess Northwalk,” she remembered.
A wry smile quirked at his ever-smooth jaw.
“Apparently, several black-market figures will be in attendance, and so a man in my profession is not entirely welcome. Not that I much mind missing it. I’m in no mood for parties what with this wedding looming over us.
” Blinking away an errant frustration, he turned to give her his full attention.
“It surprises me Eli would attend an event with such people, given how…strong his feelings are regarding thieves.”
His expression turned rueful as he locked his hands behind his back. “Well, he knows I spent my adolescence as a petty thief and still signed a contract with me. As far as Eli is concerned, business is business, and everyone is a crook. I think he only takes it personally, when it’s personal.”
“So I’ve gathered,” she murmured.
“And this time, it’s personal.”
Her eyes searched his features, unable to cover her surprise. “It is?”
“Surely he’s told you about how the Anatolian Sapphire was stolen from him by his business partner.”
“He mentioned it.”
“Well, rumor has it the gem will be on the premises.” Morley’s mouth suddenly flattened to a grim line.
“Now I’m wondering if Eli is there to confront the owner, dispute the provenance, or buy it for a second time at great expense.
I hope it’s the latter. Blackwell’s men are notoriously dangerous.
” He turned to her, as if remembering he’d spoken out of turn.
“Not to worry, though. Eli’s as tough as a buffalo hide and he’s one of the cleverest men I know when he cares to be. I shouldn’t be worried at all.”
Rosaline shook her head, trying not to let her despondency show. Eli would spend an evening with black market figures and notorious gangsters such as Dorian Blackwell, the Black Heart of Ben Moor. And yet, he could not stand her presence long enough for her to truly apologize.
When it came to his list of importance, she was understandably below a famous sapphire the size of a baby’s fist.
“Anything I can do for you?” he offered. “Anything specific you are looking for?”
“No. Just in search of a sister, actually… Female complaints.” She put a hand to her womb, hoping it sold the wrong message.
Morley’s blush advertised that it had. “Oh, well, erm. Pru and Emmaline should be home in an hour or so, should I send them over?”
“That isn’t necessary. Now that I remember where Eli has gone, I think I’m going to have an early night.” Shoulders drooping with a heavy sigh, she picked up the corner of her skirt to turn and show herself out.
“Rosaline.”
“Hmmm?”
She glanced back to find Morley regarding her with undue vigilance. “When I spoke with Eli at our last family dinner here, he was unlike I’d ever seen him. Content. Relaxed. Dare I say, happy. You are better for him than I could have ever imagined.”
“I—I’m glad you think so.” Rosaline did her best to swallow her anxiety. What would he say when Eli spoke to him next? How would she explain her theft to a man of the law?
“What about you?” he asked, uncurling himself from the floor to stand. “Marriage often favors the man and can be—unduly challenging for a woman. How is Eli treating you? Tell me he’s behaving himself.”
“He has been nothing but…deferential with me,” she answered honestly.
“Glad to hear it.” He relaxed into a winsome smile. “He’s a good man, regardless of what he may claim. I know he’s something of a philistine compared to the sort of society you’re used to, but I hope you don’t judge him too harshly for that.”
Rosaline traced the grooves carved into the back of particularly ornate chair. “It’s part of what endears him to me, actually. I find that in each other’s company, it is easy to be…ourselves.”
Or at least most of herself.
If only she could cut that one part out. If she could go to Titus Conleith and submit to his knife and be rid of her demon once and for all.
What she probably needed was an exorcist.
“Are you content with him? Fond of him?” Morley did his best to hide his particular interest in the matters of his friend and his sister-in-law, but he was terrible at doing so.
Rosaline flinched at the question, feeling as if she’d swallowed an entire hive of bees.
“I’m delighted with him.”
“You don’t look delighted,” he noted with skepticism.
“I’m feeling poorly, is all. And…Eli has been gone a few days. I suppose I’m fighting a touch of melancholy.”
He gave a grunt of commiseration. “I am a terrible grouse whenever Pru and I are parted too long. She is the keeper of my happiness, and takes it with her when she goes.”
“That must be how I feel.” Her smile was so brittle, she feared he could see right through it.
“It vexes me that he let you worry.” Morley frowned. “That wasn’t well done of him.”
“Don’t mention it to him,” she requested, putting a beseeching hand on his arm. “He’s not a man accustomed to marriage or family. It’s made him remarkably independent, and I imagine that isn’t an easy tendency to break.”
Carlton patted her hand. “You’re better than he deserves. I think he’ll spend an entire lifetime realizing all the ways. I know I certainly do.”
“Nonsense.” Lifting on her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to his sharp jaw, unable to help but notice the difference in aromas from her husband. The textures of their skin. The hues of their countenance.
She’d always secretly thought Morley was handsome, and hoped to have such a dignified, golden-haired husband someday.
Now, her preferences leaned in exactly the opposite direction. Her lips preferred a rough cheek to his smooth. A headier fragrance than his fresh one. And glinting dark eyes to his iridescent blue.
“Our entire family is unceasingly aware of how lucky we are to have you in our lives,” she assured him. “Have a lovely evening with your girls.”
“Get some rest, Rosaline.” He led her to the door and opened it, ever the unfailing gentleman. “If you’re not feeling better tomorrow, we’ll have a doctor out to look at you.”
“Thank you.”
Rosaline fled back to Hespera House, calling for Hildie as she climbed the steps two at a time… She’d a golden ballgown she’d not yet worn, and Hildie had her in it and worked some magic with her hair in under an hour.
She couldn’t go another night without seeing him. Without putting this thing between them to rest. One way or the other.