Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

S omehow, Gwen had slept right through Daisy’s return in the early hours of the morning. The sun was shining brightly around the edges of the curtains. The blanket covered every inch of Daisy except for her nose. Even her eyes were covered. They’d all gotten good at blocking out the light for their strange sleeping hours. She’d have to readjust to that now that she’d be working nights again.

It was hard to believe she was here again. She was trying her best to reconcile everything that had happened. Until just a few days ago, she had thought herself married. Miserable, but married. She’d thought herself in love with Greg before they’d wed, but the feelings she’d had for him, even then, were nothing compared to what had blossomed with Ash. If she was honest with herself, she’d always wanted Ash, from the day he’d rescued her from the streets. He’d never allowed anything to happen between them and had treated her just like all of the other ladies here. That hadn’t stopped her from trying, though. She’d always been a bit of a flirt with him. She wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. For both of their sakes, she would have to be on her best behavior.

Quietly, she changed into clean clothes, careful to not wake Daisy. Closing the door softly behind her, she went in search of food and tea. Her stomach rumbled loudly in protest at being empty too long.

When Gwen entered the main hall, she was surprised to see Patrick, and even more surprised to see his arms wrapped around a woman, his hands clasping her bottom while he kissed her passionately. Patrick also treated all the ladies respectfully and never crossed any boundaries, so it was strange to see him that way. She wasn’t sure what to do. Part of her brain said to turn back and not interrupt, but the drawing room with the food was on the other side of them. In the end, she just stood there, her eyes darting around awkwardly, trying not to stare at the pair of them.

“Oh!” Patrick said suddenly. “Apologies, I didn’t realize anyone was around.” He stopped then, and really looked at her. “Gwen? What are you doing here?” His brow was furrowed with concern.

Gwen shrugged. “I’m back,” she said quietly.

He walked away from the woman he’d been kissing, hopefully his wife, and approached Gwen. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “I’m just headed to the drawing room in search of some tea and something to put in my stomach.” She turned her lips up in a smile that she hoped was reassuring.

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry to be in the way.” Then, as an afterthought he continued, “Gwen, this is my wife, Rosie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Rosie.” She didn’t seem to be able to muster the strength for another smile, so she simply nodded.

Rosie, on the other hand, beamed at her. “Do you mind if I join you? We’ve just arrived, and you know how train tea is.” She shook her head, making a sarcastic face of disgust and sticking out her tongue. The joke brightened Gwen’s outlook just a bit. Perhaps the company would do her good.

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

Rosie touched her hand to the side of the teapot and her lips scrunched to one side in disapproval. “That won’t do.”

But just then, a housekeeper bustled in with a new pot. “Mrs. Corstairs, you are an angel.”

Gwen’s stomach clenched at the word and she closed her eyes, trying to center herself before she spiraled into uncontrollable grief, once more. She took a deep steadying breath.

“Do you take sugar?”

When she realized Rosie was talking to her, she wrenched her eyes open and tried to focus. “Pardon?”

Rosie smiled kindly. “Never mind. This is definitely a time for sweet tea.”

Gwen tried to return the smile, but it just wouldn’t come.

Rosie prepared their tea and handed one to Gwen. She placed her hand on Gwen’s wrist and crouched in front of her. “I’m sorry for whatever you’re going through.” There was such understanding in her eyes. “If you want to talk about it, I’m happy to listen. Or if you want to pretend nothing is happening, I can do that too.” She squeezed her arm lightly before settling into her own chair.

Tears burst from Gwen’s eyes and she set the cup and saucer on the table with a clatter. Stupid tears. “I’m sorry,” she said as she swept them away. “I didn’t mean to start crying.”

Rosie relocated to sit beside Gwen on the settee. She wrapped an arm around her and pulled her head against her shoulder. “No need to apologize, dear. You cry out all your grief.” She rocked her gently, but Gwen pulled herself together. What if Ash came down and saw her this way? Or what if Patrick saw her and told Ash?

She sniffled and sat back, wiping the remainder of her tears away. “Please don’t tell Ash I was crying.”

Rosie looked taken aback. “Is Ash back?”

Gwen nodded. “We got here last night.”

“And why do you not want him to know you’ve been crying? You realize he’s seen all of us crying, don’t you?”

“Us? Were you a Lady Raven?”

Rosie’s smile returned. “Not exactly, but I did live here for a short time. Why don’t I tell you my story while you drink this.” She handed the tea back to Gwen. “And then, you can share yours.”

Gwen closed her eyes at the overwhelming sweetness of the tea.

Rosie smiled. “I know, but Ella swears it’s good for soothing a troubled soul, so drink up.”

Rosie went on to tell an incredible story about Patrick saving her from a brothel, and then a whole topsy-turvy journey that followed, that included her being rescued by Ash. “So as you can imagine, Ash has seen me at my worst. He’s never judged me for a moment, and he wouldn’t judge you either.”

Gwen let out a long sigh that sounded tortured, even to her own ears. After Rosie had been so candid with everything she’d been through, it felt churlish for Gwen to refuse to share her own story. She decided to tell parts of it, but she would never reveal Ash’s secrets. They were not hers to share. She explained how Ash had found her and the fake marriage she’d been foolish enough to fall for. “Without getting into any of Ash’s personal details, I’ll just say that, even knowing I shouldn’t, I fell in love with him. If he knows that I’m hurting, he’ll blame himself, and I don’t want him to feel guilty.” Gwen ended with a slightly pathetic shrug.

Although Rosie’s eyes held obvious sympathy, there was a hint of mischief there too. “Well, you must be something special. I never thought I’d see the day that someone would break through Ash’s unyielding rules.”

“I didn’t say anything about his rules.” Had she betrayed him even though she’d tried not to?

Rosie smiled reassuringly. “You didn’t have to, dear. But don’t worry, I won’t say anything to him.”

“As you can imagine, I just don’t know quite what to do.”

“Well, for now, you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other. If there's one thing I know about these stubborn men it’s that you can’t convince them to do anything. They just have to figure it out on their own. Until then, anytime you need to get away from this place for a little while, you’re more than welcome to visit me. I’m sure Belle, Michael’s wife, would love to have you, as well.”

“That’s so kind of you.”

By the time Patrick returned to collect Rosie, the evidence of Gwen’s crying had hopefully disappeared. Rosie gave her a hug. “I’ll send Belle to introduce herself. We’re not often both in town at the same time, but one of us is usually around. When you need something, just have the doorman send a note to one of us and we’ll appear.”

“You’re too kind, Rosie.”

“Don’t be silly.” She waved away the sentiment. She squeezed her hands one last time. “Take care of yourself.”

What had she meant when she’d said ‘they just have to figure it out on their own’? Figure what out? Gwen didn’t understand, but she was grateful for the conversation and for Rosie’s kindness. She had assured her multiple times that everything would be alright and things would work themselves out somehow in the end.

Now, if only Gwen could make herself believe that were true.

* * *

Ash was jarred awake by a sudden onslaught of blinding light.

“I had to come check you’re alive,” Fogg said as he threw back the other set of curtains.

Ash groaned. His head throbbed painfully. He seemed to be on his stomach, spread like a starfish across his entire bed, and he didn’t feel a stitch of clothing on his skin. He must have presented quite a sight. “Can you be a little more quiet please?” he whispered.

He heard Fogg’s intake of breath and braced for the loud noises, but none came. Ash flopped his head over on the bed and squinted up at his valet. “What did I say about walking on eggshells?”

“Rough night?” Fogg raised a brow as he appraised the scene Ash presented. Ash huffed a laugh and quickly groaned again as his head protested.

“You might say that.” He’d eventually drunk himself to sleep.

“Well, since I’m not walking on eggshells, might it be because you didn’t have a certain lady warming your bed last night?”

“That wasn’t permission for you to be impertinent.” Ash glared at the man. “I’d ask how you even know about that since you weren’t there, but somehow you always know every bloody thing.”

“It’s not exactly a secret, Ash. Your entire household at Woodburn is aware that she was in your bed every night you stayed there. The difference is, they don’t know how unusual that is for you. As far as they were concerned, she was your mistress. It would have been strange if she hadn’t been in your bed.”

Ash slowly pushed himself upright. He sat on the edge of the bed and scrubbed his hands over his face.

“I’m concerned about you, Ash. You’ve never once had a woman in your bed, the entire time I’ve been in your employ. You go to Woodburn Hall, and you have Gwen in your bed from the first night you arrive?”

“Yes, well, I’m back here now so that’s obviously not going to happen again. Now please tell me you brought coffee.”

“Of course I did,” he said, pouring a cup and handing it to him.

Ash took the cup and breathed in the wonderful aroma. “I could kiss you.”

Fogg grimaced. “I’d rather you didn’t, if it’s all the same.”

Ash glared at him, but he simply shrugged. “Well how am I supposed to be sure you won’t? Everything seems to be changing with you all of a sudden.”

Ash chuckled and shook his head. “You are an impudent arse, Fogg.”

“Would his lordship like to dress at some point today? It is past one, after all.”

“Christ.” He let out an aggravated sigh and took a large gulp of the hot coffee. “I need you to work your magic, Fogg. If Michael, Patrick, and Giles see me looking like this, they’ll be worse than you with their fretting.”

“I’ll certainly do my best, but I’ve never seen you look quite so…” His words trailed off and he simply tilted his head to the side.

Laughter surprised him. “Thanks, Fogg.” Ash was glad Fogg was back to his usual bantering. He’d feared their relationship might have changed at Woodburn as well.

A short while later, as Fogg was fastening the buttons on his waistcoat, Ash was feeling, and looking, much more himself. “I’m sure this goes without saying, Fogg, but what happened between Gwen and me at Woodburn, stays there. I don’t need that kind of gossip spreading around here.”

Fogg nodded. “It won’t come from me, but I’m afraid those kinds of things have a habit of finding their way about anyway.”

The familiar sensation of self-loathing burned in Ash’s belly. “I’m a bloody fool,” he muttered. He’d been naive believing they could come back to Raven House and everything would be just as it had been before. He’d likely damned Gwen to relentless speculation and gossip. All the ladies knew that he did not interact with them in a manner anything more than friendly and professional. If they learned that Gwen had been intimate with him, it would create all kinds of problems. “Christ.” He plunged a hand into his hair.

“I just straightened that,” Fogg admonished, but then he placed a gentle hand on Ash’s shoulder. “I won’t pretend to know what happened at Woodburn, but I know you, Ash. Whatever occurred, it came from a place of caring and compassion, not from malice.”

“My good intentions will not spare her from the consequences of my actions.”

“There is a way you could put it all to rest, you know.”

Ash dreaded the answer, but asked the question anyway. “How?”

“Marry her.”

Ash scoffed. “And damn her to a lifetime shackled to me? Not a chance. You just focus on finding the bastard who sent her back to me in the first place, so I can send him to hell where he belongs.”

“You know we will.”

An hour later, as Ash stood overlooking his club, his gaze was unfocused. Instead, words continued to play though his head. “Marry her.” And then it would be followed immediately by Gwen’s voice saying, “I don’t think I ever want to marry again.”

It didn’t matter anyway. This is what he was, the owner of a gaming hell. He wasn’t a husband. He wasn’t someone a woman could settle down with and have a family. He didn’t want that life. He didn’t want to risk becoming his father. Although, as the thought settled in his mind, he knew it to be false. After spending only a short time with Maggie, he knew he could never harm any child. Perhaps the belief he’d held his entire life, the fear that he was his father’s son and that the only thing keeping him from doing all the same, horrific things, was his strict set of rules. Perhaps that wasn’t real. Perhaps there was no monster inside of him that he had to keep at bay.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the backdoor closing. Patrick, Michael, and Giles all filed through the curtain onto the gaming floor. Michael looked up at him. “Are you going to join us?”

“Ash!” Giles said in surprise. “I didn’t know you were back!”

Apparently Patrick did know, because he wasn’t surprised to see him. Ash made his way down the stairs. The pain in his leg was finally feeling a little better today, and he didn’t have to rely on his cane as heavily. Michael and Giles brought all four of their drinks from the bar and set them around their usual table.

“Ash isn’t the only one back,” Patrick said as they settled into their seats. “Apparently Gwen arrived with him last night.”

“How do you know that?” Ash asked, trying not to sound accusatory, but failing.

Patrick raised a questioning brow. “I saw her this morning when I came to check in and make sure all was well at Raven House. Was it supposed to be a secret?”

Ash’s heart began to race. “What did she say?”

“Nothing. Not a single explanation.” He looked at Ash. “I’m hoping you can provide that because she didn’t look very happy, and they don’t usually come back after that long away.”

Ash breathed a sigh of relief and hated himself for it. “I think we’re going to need to place her somewhere quickly. Somewhere I can trust she’ll be safe. Do either of you have need of someone at an estate?” He looked at Patrick. “Or perhaps your brother?”

“I’m sure one of us could find room for her,” Patrick replied. “But we’re going to need more of an explanation than that, Ash.”

Ash explained how he’d found her and told them about the abusive fake marriage she’d been in for a year. All three of their faces grew horrified and then angry.

“Where is this piece of garbage?” Michael growled, his hands fisted on top of the table.

“I don’t know yet, but I have good men working on that, and I will take care of him as soon as he’s found.”

“You mean we will take care of him,” Michael said quietly. “These ladies are under all of our protection, Ash. Not just yours.”

“Michael is right,” Patrick added. “But there’s still something you’re not telling us. Why does she need to be placed somewhere? Why not keep her here, where we know she’s safe, and looked after by all of the other ladies, and Sarah? Does she not want to be here?”

Ash closed his eyes, his stomach suddenly churning with nausea. “Because.” He swallowed, steeling himself for what he needed to say. “While we were at Woodburn Hall, she shared my bed.” Ash risked a glance up at his friends, expecting to see derision or anger. Instead, what he saw was shock. Except for Giles, who just looked confused. He hadn’t been around long enough to fully understand the enormity of Ash’s confession.

Patrick was the first one to finally speak. “You’re serious?”

“It’s not likely to be something I’d joke about. Is it?” Ash ripped out the words.

A group of sighs made their way around the table. Ash had a sudden need to justify, to explain his actions.

“Obviously I’m not going to go into any detail with the three of you, but believe me when I say this wasn’t a case of me taking advantage of an employee. I swear nothing like that will ever happen with any of the other ladies. You can still trust me around them.”

Michael threw back his head and laughed.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Ash growled.

Michael shook his head. “Of course you don’t. Ash, none of us thinks you’ve suddenly turned into a debaucher of young women. You’ve spent your entire adult life as sexually repressed as a monk.”

“Michael isn’t wrong, although perhaps a bit tactless in his description.” Patrick threw a disappointed look toward Michael.

Michael held up his hands. “Fair enough. I’m sorry, Ash. I was only being sarcastic. But you must know that after all we’ve been through together, we trust you. Of all of us, you would be the last one to take advantage of any woman, let alone one under your protection.”

Giles raised his hand a bit before speaking, as if he needed permission. “I know I’m the new guy here, and I don’t know anything really, but is being placed quickly in a position somewhere what Gwen wants? I feel like that’s the important question that no one seems to be asking.”

Ash nodded grimly. “The truth is, I don’t know. I don’t see a good alternative, though. I think it would be naive to believe that gossip about what happened with Gwen and me won’t eventually make its way around Raven House. I hadn’t really considered that until Fogg mentioned it this afternoon.” How could he have been so stupid? “Christ!” He slammed his hands on the table, standing so forcefully that his chair tumbled over backwards. He picked up his mostly empty glass from the table and hurled it across the room, unleashing a string of curses.

“Hey,” Patrick said sternly. “I know you’re angry, but don’t wreck the place. We have to open in just a couple of hours. Either pull yourself together or find somewhere else to have your temper tantrum.”

Ash breathed in deeply. As much as he wanted to rage and destroy things, Patrick was right. It wasn’t going to help.

He turned back to the table. “I’m sorry. It’s been a trying few days, and somehow I’ve managed to create a right bloody mess for which Gwen will likely pay the consequences.”

“Well, we are your friends and partners, so sit back down, and together, we’ll figure out how best to move forward.” It was almost amusing to have Patrick be the voice of reason, the one in charge. That was usually Ash, but he was grateful that the others were willing to step up and put him in his place when necessary.

As Ash righted his chair and sat back down, Michael spoke again. “I think Giles is right. You, or one of us, needs to have a conversation with Gwen to find out what it is she wants.”

Ash nodded slowly. “It needs to be me.”