“Maybe there’s a reason for that.”
“Not one that makes any sense to me. After all, there are clerks and shopkeepers, servants even, who need a place to go without wasting precious time travelling to other parts of Town. And who knows? If the entertainment’s right, we might even draw a few toffs. In any case, I want your help setting it up. You’re the only person I can think of beside myself who knows what it takes to run a place like this while also having the skill required to straddle both worlds.”
“Guthrie, I…” Blayne sighed. “Ye ken I’m trying to get out of London. Away from all this.”
“And yet you’re still here.”
“Aye.” It didn’t seem like he was going anywhere anytime soon. “I just dinnae think I can run a tavern for ye on Oxford Street. The risk of me getting recognized is much greater there than it is here.”
“And yet you took that risk for Miss Russell.”
“I shouldnae have done so,” Blayne said, his heart starting to struggle at the memory of the evening they’d shared at the Coventry ball and what it had led to. “It was foolish.”
“Are you sure about that?’
The question caused an instant flare of anger, hot and sharp, to spear him. “Yes, damn it. Lady Warwick said I looked familiar – that I reminded her of someone she’d met in her youth. And while I didnae stay to hear the entire name of the man she wished to liken me to, I heard enough to know it was my father.”
“That’s hardly enough to start any speculations or rumors. Certainly not to have you chased down by the law.”
“It’s a start.” He gave Guthrie a firm look. “If I’m smart, I’ll steer clear of anyone who might be able to spot the connection from now on.”
“That might prove harder than you think if you’re still intent on winning Miss Russell. After all, she’s firmly rooted in that world.”
“Ye’ve got it all wrong. I was merely trying to help her and…” He shook his head. “She and I are just…”
Guthrie tilted his head. “Just what, Blayne?”
“Nothing.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I dinnae even ken why we’re talking about her.”
There was a long moment of silence, then Guthrie said, “I didn’t think I was good enough for Regina either. In fact, I was convinced we’d never be able to have a future together. She was an earl’s daughter after all.”
“Yes, but ye were more than a criminal.”
“And so are you.”
“No. I’m not. My soul is more tainted than yers will ever be.”
“You were just a lad.”
“That’s not an excuse.” Blayne closed his eyes and forced out an agonized breath. “I’ve been looking over my shoulder all these years, afraid to accept my punishment. But maybe this is it. God knows a life without Charlotte will be the living hell I deserve.”
“You’re in love with her then.”
Blayne opened his eyes, met Guthrie’s, and decided to face the truth. “I dinnae ken when it happened, or how.”
“It does tend to catch one by surprise,” Guthrie mused.
A knock sounded at the door and Blayne called for whoever it was to enter.
It was Claus. “My apologies for the interruption, but I thought you’d want to know that Daisy is here.”
A prickly sensation swept up the back of Blayne’s neck. Stomach contracting and muscles tightening with anticipation, he stood. “Show her in.”
Claus stepped aside and motioned for Charlotte’s maid to enter. Her eyes widened when she spotted Guthrie – just enough to convey recognition – before landing on Blayne. Setting her jaw, she pushed her spine into rigid straightness, and approached him with determination.
“My mistress has asked me to give you this.” Daisy handed him a letter.
With rising dread, Blayne stared at her outstretched hand and the folded piece of paper she held. His name was written upon it with elegant penmanship. His heart thudded against the confines of his ribs as he slowly reached out and took it. Holding the letter between his hands, he let his thumb stroke across Charlotte’s seal. An involuntary smile caught the edge of his lips. The imprint in the blob of crimson wax depicted a quill. How appropriate.
Steeling himself, he tore the seal and unfolded the paper. Something fell out and floated toward the floor. Blayne crouched to pick it up, unease expanding within him at the sight of a promise note worth forty pounds. An unpleasant taste filled his mouth as he straightened himself and proceeded to read the few lines Charlotte had written.
My dearest Blayne,
An unexpected complication has kept me from our meeting this morning. I apologize for not being able to inform you of it sooner. Enclosed herein are the funds I owe you. Since there is no guarantee for when we shall meet again, I thought it best to have them delivered forthwith in case you need them.
As one last request, I ask that you do what you can to help me reacquire the rights to my book so I can receive payment.
Affectionately yours,
Charlotte W. Russell
Everything inside Blayne revolted at the words and what they suggested. Drawing breath became a challenge. He couldn’t seem to get the air past the knot in his throat. A mixture of pain and anger assailed him. Her business-like words were like a betrayal – a denial of what they’d shared. The money she added was a goddamn insult.
He picked the promise note up and handed it to Daisy. “I dinnae want this.”
“Miss Russell said you might refuse and that I should insist.”
“Insisting willnae do any good.” He shoved it into her hand and curled her fingers roughly around it. “Take it. Spend it on yerself if ye’re too afraid to tell her I wouldnae accept it.”
“I…I…I’m terribly sorry,” Daisy sputtered.
“Are ye really,” Blayne seethed while towering over the much smaller woman. Her expression was stricken, her body rigid as she began backing away.
“Blayne,” Claus warned as he moved close to Daisy. “You’re frightening her.”
“Good.” He glared at the maid as if she were the one who’d just taken an axe to his heart. “Ye need to leave. Right now. Go. And dinnae ever come back.”
Daisy didn’t budge. Instead she held his gaze like some martyr facing down a fire-breathing dragon.
“I said, get out,” he roared, unleashing the tension that had been building inside him since he’d been turned away from Charlotte’s house.
Daisy flinched, but to Blayne’s amazement, she held her ground.
“That’s enough,” Claus said, his face etched in hard lines. Placing one arm around Daisy’s shoulders he drew her against his side. “It’s all right. He’ll settle down in a moment or two.”
The hell he would.
“May I see that letter?” The softly spoken words of calm came from Guthrie.
Blayne turned toward him, bringing the vibrantly clad man into his line of vision. For a moment, he’d quite forgotten his presence. Blayne gave him the letter. Fists clenched until his palms burned, he watched while the other man read.
“She obviously cares for you.”