Cross the Ocean Read Free Page B

current mistress, Helena. She missed him. She died a bit each day in his absence. She certainly didn’t love him. Loved the diamonds and the evenings at the theatre but she didn’t love him. What kind of ridicule had Ann been subject to while he paraded Helena to a private box for a play or to a dinner party? He cringed at the thought of the last trip to the theatre he and his mistress had gone to. Helena had drunk a bit too much champagne and was amorous. Amorous was a benign accounting of Helena that night. Although wildly exciting, when Helena opened her dress as she pulled the curtain of their box in the last act of the play, there could have been no doubt what was taking place.
    Sofas rocked and fabric swung as Helena shouted her bliss.
    All the peerage had mistresses, Blake thought to himself. When one is married at a young age to someone one barely knows and could easily be as ugly as sin what did one expect? What did Ann expect? He laughed without humor at himself or perhaps at the flimsy justification for his own excuse.
    Ann was gorgeous. Petite, polite, blond, impeccable lineage. Could he have loved her? Can one will themselves to love? The sex had no spark. Was that his fault or hers? Could she have given more of herself? Could he have? Now she was rolling around with some merchant. Blake could hardly say he was jealous. Maybe angry that someone else had his wife in their bed. Much like being out bid at an auction. Not jealous for the woman. Just angry he hadn’t won.
    Three days after the children left he would’ve given his home for someone, anyone to address him by something other than ‘your grace.’ Benson, Briggs and Mrs. Wickham closed ranks about him and while he understood their good intention, Blake felt as if there wasn’t enough air to draw breath. He went to the stables, had his mare saddled and rode to Anthony’s estate. Maybe Elizabeth will ask me to stay for dinner, he thought. Then she’ll go to bed and Tony and I can drink a bottle of brandy and get stewed. He could stay there if he couldn’t ride. A room was kept ready for him. He even kept a change of clothes there, harkening back to when Tony was a bachelor and their nights together often ended in the wee hours of the morning. Blake smiled and felt better than he had in days.
    As the butler escorted Blake down the hall of Anthony’s home to the drawing room, he heard a loud but feminine … snort. And Elizabeth’s trill laughter in reply. Damn. He remembered. Some cousin of Elizabeth’s from America sent as an escort to another cousin was staying with them. Anthony had described and dreaded the arrival of cousin Gertrude with horror. A spinster remotely connected to Elizabeth’s father’s side, she was big, bold and here for a month. Her arrival had curtailed Anthony’s visits.
    Blake stopped and hissed at the butler. “Think I’ve changed my mind, Jenkins. I don’t want to disturb their company.”
    “Quite the coward, are we, Your Grace. Leave your life-long friend alone with this Amazon from America.” Jenkins stared as he spoke. “In any case they saw you ride up the drive.”
    Jenkins spoke his mind to all, including Anthony and Elizabeth. There’d be no expecting servile behavior.
    “I’m sure you did not miss the opportunity to point out my arrival,” Blake said.
    “Of course not, Your Grace.” The butler paused at the door. “The Duke of Wexford.”
    “Blake,” Anthony nearly shouted and jumped to pump Blake’s hand. “I am so very happy you are here,” Anthony said in Blake’s ear.
    Blake’s eyes widened. Cousin Gertrude was coming to him. She was every inch as tall as he. Anthony made the introductions. She held out her hand. Blake grasped it and bent to place a kiss there and was surprised when she began to shake it, hitting him squarely in the nose. Blake covered his face with his hand.
    “Oh, dear,” Miss Gertrude Finch exclaimed. She threw a look at her cousin Elizabeth.
    “No harm done,”