The Earl Takes All by Lorraine Heath

Author:Lorraine Heath
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-05-01T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

HELL and damnation.

He’d been so lost in desire, so lost in the heat of her, that he’d forgotten he was supposed to be partially deaf. He knew of no other woman who could stir his passions to life as she did. When she had whispered those wicked words, he’d hardened to such an extent that he was unable to think clearly.

And now she knew the truth. He’d been a fool to think he could keep it from her forever. But he certainly hadn’t meant for her to find out like this. Rolling out of bed, he snatched up his clothes, donned trousers, shirt, and boots. Rushing into his bedchamber, he grabbed his coat, shrugged into it, and headed out. He was fairly certain he knew where she was going.

In the cold and the rain. Silly woman. No, not silly. Grieving. Her heart would be breaking, shattered, not only by the death of her husband but the betrayal of his brother. Running through the rain, he cursed himself for not bothering with a hat, but his own discomforts mattered not at all.

The only thing that mattered was Julia. Finding her and doing what he could to lessen her pain. Although he doubted anything he did would accomplish that goal. He’d seen the look of horror on her face, the revulsion. So much had transpired between them that shouldn’t have. He despised himself for his weakness where she was concerned. Imagined she despised him even more.

He found her in the mausoleum, draped over Albert’s vault as her great, heaving sobs echoed through the chamber. He’d never felt so helpless, so lost, when it came to knowing exactly what to do. In dismay, he watched as she slumped to the floor, her weeping lessening in intensity but no less heartbreaking. Never before had he wished so desperately to trade places with his brother. He crouched beside her. “Julia.”

“No,” she rasped. “No. He can’t be gone. He can’t.”

But he was. Forever and always.

Edward settled his coat over her. “You can’t stay out here. You’re soaked to the bone; you’ll catch your death. You must think of Allie.” Gently, he slid his arms beneath her, hefted her against his chest and struggled to his feet.

“I hate you,” she said, her scratchy voice filled with the pain of loss and betrayal.

“I know.” But no more than he hated himself.

The rain pelted him as he fought to shield her from the frigid wind and rain, knowing his coat could only offer so much protection. She was shivering from the cold, the damp, the grief. Why hadn’t he told her sooner? Why had he thought he could live a lie for the next fifty years?

In her bedchamber, he came up short at the sight of Torrie standing by the bed, rubbing her hands together. “I saw her ladyship running out of the manor, you after her. I thought I might be needed when you returned.”

One did not explain oneself to servants. Therefore, after giving Torrie little more

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