Baron of Blasphemy (Lords of Scandal 12)

It was the truth.

Chad swallowed. He had to tell Abigail how he felt because, deep down, he was damn lucky to be part of that love.

Chapter Sixteen

Back in their room, Abigail sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the far wall. She’d been like that for at least five minutes, Chad realized.

It wasn’t every day a person found out her father, believed dead, was alive and well.

And a selfish bastard.

That was Chad’s official stance on the matter, which made him wonder how the man had created such amazing daughters.

He looked at the woman who’d become his wife. The one who’d stood up to the man she’d idolized to protect her sisters.

Had he ever thought her silly or spoiled? She was amazingly resilient, loyal, fierce, and hurting terribly in this moment.

He climbed into the other side of the bed and rolled over to cradle her lower back against his abdomen. Then, one at a time, he pulled the pins from her hair. As the luxurious locks released, they fell and brushed his shoulders, arm, and side. He leaned up to kiss her back through the silky strands. “Abigail. My princess.”

She looked back at him. “You haven’t called me Princess in ages. What have I done to deserve your ire?”

“Not ire.” He smiled at her, reaching up to stroke her cheek.

“My sisters think I’m spoiled too. They actually think that my father gave me whatever I wanted. They don’t call me Princess, but I know you meant the same as them when you used that name.”

He sat up, pulling her into his arms. She was stiff and he frowned. “I will confess to meaning the words then, but now, I see it differently. You are a woman who is as stunningly beautiful as she is strong.”

She gave a nod, her cheek pressing to his. “Thank you for all your help this evening.”

“Of course.” Chad cupped her face in his hands. “You’re my wife. It’s my duty to stand next to you, no matter what.”

He saw her eyes shudder, pain pulling at the corners as her mouth turned down into a frown. “Your duty.”

He winced. He hadn’t meant it like that. He was bad at sharing feelings. He hugged her tight, willing her to relax in his arms. “What will you tell your sisters?”

“The truth,” she murmured. “I’m just deciding how. Do I send a letter? If so, where? Do I return to London and wait for them?”

He shook his head. “Not London.”

She pulled back then, her brow crinkling. “My father has returned, and he’s eliminated the head of the operation, or so he says.”

“The local criminals could still be at large. We have to be careful, yet.”

She pulled back, sliding from his embrace. “Right. You provide protection, and in return you get my dowry.”

A prickling moved along his skin. “That is the way in every marriage in our class. Marriage is always an exchange.”

She rubbed her arms, looking away. “It’s so…cold.”

He tried to reach for her, but she pulled further away. “It’s not.” He drew in a breath. He wanted to tell her that he’d never felt anything warmer in his life. But as she pulled away, he didn’t know how to say the words. He scrubbed his neck. “I would lay my life down for yours.”

Her head snapped up then, and she tilted her head as she stared at him. Tentatively, her hand reached up and touched his cheek. “Forgive me. I’m being petulant. It’s just that…”

“What?” he asked, brushing her hair back from her shoulder.

“I thought my father loved us. And maybe he does but…” She tapered off. “He loves the business he’s built far more. It’s a selfish love.” Her head dipped.

He pulled her close again, and this time she allowed him, melting into his arms. As her cheek nuzzled into the hollow of his neck, he felt wetness hit his bare shoulder. He lay back with her still on his chest. “What you need is some sleep.”