Married to a Rogue by Donna Lea Simpson

Author:Donna Lea Simpson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Beyond the Page
Published: 2014-07-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Going to Belle after seeing Emily retreating to the conservatory with Marchant had been a mistake, Baxter decided as he let himself out of her town house and strode down the quiet damp street. He breathed deeply, aware of a change in the quality of the air around him. There had been rain, and the air, for once, smelled fresh, cleansed of the day-to-day odors of garbage and horses and human waste, all mixed with the ever-present smell of the Thames.

His boot heels struck the cobbles with a thunk thunk as he walked. He needed to think and walked aimlessly at first, glad he had dismissed his carriage after arriving at Belle’s. This was the same time of night as when he had been attacked, but that had been in a much nastier part of town, where his attacker would be more likely to escape notice. If he confined his walk to the better area, he should be all right. He strolled on and wondered, what was he going to do?

Belle had been, as always, pathetically glad to see him and eager to offer her sexual services to relieve his tension and disappointment. But God help him, he could not do it. And it was not just determination this time, not just keeping to his good intentions. He now knew that he wished he was with Emily, that he wished they had never separated. If they hadn’t, there never would have been a Belle in his life, for he had been faithful to his wife until the moment the separation agreement was signed. And now even rage and humiliation had not been enough to make lovemaking with another woman palatable.

He wanted no one else but Emily, his sweet, adored wife, the mate of his body and his mind and his soul. But it seemed that it was too late for him and Emily.

He walked through the quiet neighborhoods. In front of one stately manor, a carriage drew up and footmen emerged from the house, silently padding on soft-soled shoes down the steps and to the carriage. With the aid of the groom and tiger, the footmen pulled and tugged at a corpulent reveler, finally getting him out of the carriage and carrying him up the steps. There had not been a single word or command among the men as they worked, and their expressions were carefully blank, but Baxter found the scene ludicrous and walked away shaking his head.

How many souls in the city of London would repeat that same scene tonight and every night of the season? How many men and women went about their usual routine, never wondering what they were doing or why, or whether there was a better way?

Like him. He had reacted to his separation from Emily by throwing himself into much the same lifestyle—drinking, gaming, whoring—at least until his work took him to the Continent. But now there was no excuse. What did he want from life? He frowned and pondered and kicked at an errant stone as he strolled the streets.

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