Your Darkest Dream (Blackwood & Friends #2)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Four

There was not butler or footman to greet her or announce her arrival at Rothford House... she did not really expect there to be. Rawdon would have been as careful administering this meeting as she had been- if matters needed to be taken to trial, the less witnesses the better.

However, the Earl of Rothford had been waiting for her arrival and the door was pulled open before she had ever summited the stairs of the front of the house. She couldn't make out much given the lack of available light, but by the way her skin began to prick and crawl with awareness of him, she was certain he had caused it.

As she stepped across the threshold, and the door shut implacably behind her, Blanche knew that with it her fate was sealed after that moment. She valiantly ignored the tremors that began to warp her limbs as the memories of the previous evening she had been subjected to within the house tumbled forward and threatened to buckle her in half. It was with a cold vengeance that she forced her face not to betray the terror she felt ripping through her as she turned to face Rawdon.

He was immaculately attired in a flawless claret evening coat and dark trousers. He cut an intimidating figure with his flaxen haired beauty, the sheer height and strength he projected in comparison to her, yet she was pleased to note the faded yellow-edged, purpled bruising that lingered on the bridge of his nose and the left socket of his eye. There was also a compress wrapped around the hand she had stabbed so brutally with a letter opener and Blanche almost smirked at that. The injuries she had caused him and the evidence of their impact instilled a smidgen of indulgent pride to trickle through her and she only just managed to stifle the knowing grin that threatened to tilt her lips up.

However, his sheer presence alone was enough to diminish any sense of confidence as his eyes, so vividly blue and bright, raked up her form with a possession that unnerved her. She coordinated this, she kept reminding herself, the gown that fit too tight and clung too voluptuously to her every curve. The evidence of his gaze lingering over the parts of her that made her stomach lurch was as it should be. For now, at least, it was going according to plan.

"We have business to conduct, you and I," he began as a means of greeting and there was a low tone to his voice that spoke of words that had been carefully placed beforehand, "so we will continue this meeting in my study upstairs."

Blanche deigned not to respond and instead allowed him to guide her up the shadowed stairwell, the very same stairwell she had fled up six nights prior for her very life, her footsteps heavy against them. Her shoes were not slippers this evening but rather the heavier walking boots she utilized during her promenades or when she had been hiking through the woodlands of Northwick with Nate- they were sturdy, the soles leathered and durable to endure traction on smoother surfaces. Blanche knew better than most how attention to the smaller details could save a life, which is why her blood ran cold when Rawdon said, "I have a few stipulated changes that need to be amended to your little contract."

She almost stumbled on a step and realigned her focus entirely. It mattered not what the contract stated so long as she could convince him to sign it... but if there were changes that he insisted needed adding... Blanche endeavoured not to look at him askance and instead focused on her footing, ensuring she was at the very final step before she dared to respond. "Changes, my lord? I believed the conditions quite fair."

Rawdon pressed a hand to the small of her back and began to nudge her with gentle insistence towards the doors of his study. Blanche fought off the urge to bow her spine away from his touch. "A few stipulations," he added coldly, "as assurances you won't run off to a Bow Street constable, magistrate, or your intended as soon as this transaction has reached its conclusion."