The driver shot him a look filled with blame he had no idea Dair richly deserved as he walked to the driver’s side door.
And Dair stood there, powerless, as the man got behind the wheel, Blake stared steadfastly forward, and they drove away.
Chapter 21
Cathy and Heathcliff
Blake
* * *
Since I was lying in the dark in my bed at The Edinburgh Grand, I saw the light coming out from under my phone where it sat screen down on the nightstand.
In order to further torture myself, like I’d done all the other times this happened, I reached out, took hold of it, turned it to me and stared at the notification that shared Dair was calling.
I did this until it went away.
I continued to stare at my phone until the notification came up that I had a voicemail.
That was voicemail three.
I had six texts from him too.
None of them I’d listened to.
None of them I’d read.
I needed to book train passage down to England.
Or a flight.
I didn’t.
I put the phone back to my nightstand, face down, turned my back to it, curled my knees to my chest, held them there with my arms and stared into the dark.
Feeling nothing.
Two days later, I sat behind the baronial desk in the study of Treverton, the one where possibly thirteen Marquesses of Norton sat before me, and I watched Christine bustle in.
I’d texted her I wanted to chat.
She had a smile pinned to her face and worry in her eyes as she came to me.
“You good, love?” she asked.
“Peachy,” I lied.
She knew I was lying but sat across from me without saying anything.
“Should I get us some tea?” she offered.
“I need to talk to Alex about this, but I’m thinking about selling the London house,” I announced.
“Oh,” she mumbled.
“It’s my understanding that isn’t a part of the Norton estate I can’t touch.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that, luvvie.”
