Meant to Bea

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

A stilling hand stopped Race in his attempt to climb out of bed that evening. Shifting further against his side, Bianca placed her head on his chest, her arm slung lazily around his waist.

“Don't go.” She whispered softly against his chest.

Placing an arm around her shoulder, he brushed his lips against the top of her head. “I am here.” He said, even if in that moment, he wanted to be anywhere but here. The very thought made him ashamed, but Race could not help the way he felt —he could not help his weakness. It was difficult to sit there and hold her in his arms and act like he was strong, when all he wanted to do was retreat to a quiet place and cry like he had done when she first told him everything.

Lying beside her, he still felt the pain of hearing her say it. Perhaps the fact that he knew about it in the past, was nothing compared to the fact that she was now aware of it as well. He had hoped she would never remember, or find out.

Overwhelmed by the realisation that she knew, he said the first thing that came to his mind, before disappearing out of the building and into the streets. It had been a long, lonely walk, tears blurring his vision as he forced one foot after the other ahead of him, until it became impossible to keep walking. Then, he hunched down by the foot of a tree, and gave in to his tears.

Even now, his heart still ached, and his eyes still stung with unshed tears.

“I had been drinking that evening,” She exhaled slowly. “I was so furious with the very thought of you spending the entire evening with Carla in a ball... I should not have gone out.”

“It is not your fault.”

She rose her head up slightly, a small frown settling on her face as she searched his eyes. “It isn't?”

He shook his head. “I am at fault as well, I should have been there.”

Her frown deepened. “No one is more at fault as Lord Wilson.”

His heart stopped in that second. Stiffening, “Lord Wilson?”

She nodded, and his heart started pounding again. Only, this time, it was pounding at a rather dangerous speed.

“You saw his face?” He forced the words out of his lips.

“It was dark and I was a bit drunk, but I would never forge—”

Reaching out suddenly, Race pushed Bianca's form off of him, jumped out of the bed, and scrambled for his clothes. He must have left a dozen buttons undone, and he was almost certain that as he hurried out of the door, Bianca was yelling after him, but all Race seemed capable of hearing was the rush of rage that rapidly circulated his system and all he was capable of seeing was the fury that blinded him.

He was in the stable in only a few minutes, and was riding out of the estate in less than a minute, his eyes fixed straight ahead and his mind fixed on nothing else but Lord Wilson.

*

“Camden!” Bianca hurried forward, her arms wrapping around Camden's torso as she buried her face in his firm chest.

“Lady Bianca?”

She tightened her hold around him, certain she couldn't control the tears that fell unrestrained down her cheeks, wetting his waistcoat.

“My lady, please tell me what has you so upset.”

Shaking her head, Camden managed to pry her hands from around him, his hands holding her shoulders captive and helping to steady her.