Blake cursed, growling in frustration. “I made a mistake. She shouldn’t have to suffer for it.”
Bishop’s lips twisted into a dark smirk. “Didn’t she make that same mistake right along with you? Seems to me she was quite willing, and to her, no mistake was made.”
Blake shot him a sharp look, but Bishop held his gaze. His friend would not back off.
“Mr. Bishop is right,” Mrs. Prune said. “Lady Rosilee is happy with you, just a bit scared. Now you might have gone and run off the best thing that has ever happened to you.”
Ben nodded, while Mrs. Wiggins coughed behind his hand again.
Blake rubbed his temples.
Had she really left? Had he hurt her that much?
“She’s everything I’ve wanted,” Blake admitted, softer now, almost to himself. “Everything I never thought I deserved. And now I’ve ruined it all. She deserves better than me. Better than the name I carry. I can’t give her that.”
Bishop studied him for a long moment, then sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “You’re a fool.” Blake frowned, but the man continued before he could speak. “You think denying her marriage is protecting her? Sparing her from some dark fate because of your bloody title? The truth is, the only thing you’re doing is pushing her away. You think you’re keeping her safe, but you’re just keeping yourself in the past, like a damn coward.”
His words were a blow.
But they were right.
Blake was a damn coward.
He was so deuced scared of taking a wrong step that he didn’t take any at all—not going backwards, neither moving forward.
“You love her,” Mrs. Prune said. “Anyone can see that. You wouldn’t be this torn up if you didn’t. And maybe she’s the light you need, the one that’ll make you see you’re not your father. Because, my dear, everyone else already knows.”
Blake turned away, jaw tight. The words hit harder than they should, because Mrs. Prune wasn’t wrong either. Rosilee had brought light into his life in ways he hadn’t anticipated, in ways he couldn’t control.
And yet... “I didn’t want her to pay the price for my past.”
Bishop sighed, his voice dropping in exasperation. “Maybe let her decide what price she’s willing to pay. She’s a woman, Blake, not a possession you’re trying to protect from the world. She has a mind of her own.”
I know.
He just . . .
Could he let her in, knowing what he carried? What the name Crane would forever mean? But more than that, could he stand to lose her if he didn’t?
Devil take it.Wake up, man.
Rosilee had become everything to him in such a short time—his peace, his desire, his undoing. And now, the very thought of not having her... of letting her go to protect her from the darkness that clung to his name... felt like tearing his soul apart.
Bishop’s voice broke the silence once more, this time softer, understanding. “A maze can trap you if you let it, Blake. But it can also lead you somewhere unexpected. Somewhere good.”
Blake looked up. Mrs. Prune, Mr. Wiggins, and Ben were nodding. His gaze turned to the window that overlooked a section of the garden. Hewasstuck in a maze. He had escaped eighteen years ago with her, but in his heart, he was still there.
But maybe . . . just maybe . . . Rosilee was the way out.
No. There was no maybe about it. She was the way.
His way.
A knock on the door sounded through the halls, and Ben quickly disappeared only to reappear moments later with a note. He handed the folded piece of paper, and Blake went ice cold when he read the contents. It was from Reaper.
Lady Rosilee just arrived at the Lyon’s Den.
Chapter Fifteen
