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“I’ll prepare a carriage if I ht’s back,” she said in a flurry, “We’re going to discuss this I’,” she murmured “…Certainly”

But had it been? As she stors Had Eht? If the inity and siain… could Lawrence do that to her? A shadow deeper than the encroaching night fell across Anne’s face and in that darkness, cast by the double doors before her, she fought the urge to weep It burned strong; she couldn’t think to ignore it, but she had to She reassured herself that there had been a hts and feelings They had shared divinity together in the cabin; they had shared feelings buried deep in one of those silly roht could be real; but for those cold ht as the sun, she had known so real She had known him

How could you be so stupid? Anne asked herself, sing hard as the alternative presented itself Had she been seduced by hi her right into the place that he had wanted her? He had gotten what he wanted - and now he had left

No He couldn’t have She would get to the bottom of this

Chapter Fourteen

“I’ll never share anothe

r night in the same bedchamber as you!”

The words echoed like a pri cry that shattered the unstable peace nestled inside of Lawrence’s mind He heard the exclamation layered not just in his mother’s voice - but now, the phantom sounds that haunted his mind exclaimed their vitriol in the painful and pitched tones of Anne’s voice He need not sleep for the night the horses for a departure fro the dark and muddy trails back to the Duchy of Amhurst, he needed only to close his eyes for his worst fears to come true

He heard the sla of the door; the wave of tears that trailed away into the hills and past the grand wrought-iron gate leading to the front door of A to dream therasping at his feet, he shrunk in his bench-seat in the back of the luxurious carriage, his chest pounding His night that sa limply in his hand a bottle of brandy wickedly-dense with alcohol, the burn of it stinging his throat and the scent of it heavy on his breath There he stood, alone, shaking, his head throbbing in the foyer of the A heavy in the s as the lord looked up the stairs and saw himself

A boy, sitting on the stairs, hiding from his father’s wrath; only his sister’s quietly cooed words calh to stop the tears He had beco women for what they could offer his carnal needs and then tossing thehtmares came back any ti the rising night sky pour di the horses’ harnesses tighter, and his own body lay rubbery and lie seat He wanted to slip into rest, and so he closed his eyes once again

And the painful visions returned

After that day on the stairs, his life had changed forever, but it would not be the last time Mother left, and she did not return for many months; he saw the letters, heard father’s hushed orders to deliverye drivers and every manner of maid and manservant to try to find his wife His sister had taken care of him, raised him in that tiuished in the depths of his study like a rotten tree, rowing portent ofthat he would crawl from his bed after the sun fell and speak with his father, to try to brighten the old man’s spirits

Instead, that night, as he crept towards the study, he heard rage; that sae he had heard erupt froe flowing freely, in loud screams that shuddered the door upon its fra, perhaps an innate sense of curiosity, compelled him to the study; to open the door He had done so surreptitiously, so sneakily and quietly that the door creaked open slowly, al clatters and crashing noises, and when he tiptoed into the darkened doorway of the study, he saw his father, standing before the study’s blazing fireplace, hurling abuse at invisible de about him

“She’s never co a nearly e a suit stained with brown splotches and thick with the scent of brandy, appeared to have cared little for hi his face, his hair rily threw the glass bottle into the fire, feeding the last of its contents to the flahtly alive with the sudden burst of fuel offered Lawrence could spy that his father’s face was gripped not just by the cheek-burning and eye-reddening heat of a deep alcoholic stupor, but also by so he had never seen upon his father’s face - tears His father, to him, had always been a rock; even with his troubles, he had always stood still and strong, the cross-trussed foundation upon which the rest of the Strauss family built itself

Now, he had broken He was crying Loud, anguished sobs rose into the air; Lawrence hopped to the corner, slipping into the shadows behind an ar open Expensive porcelain and glass dishware lay scattered across the floor, but it seemed his father had not finished; with another prirasped at the shelf atop his desk and ripped it fro clatter that forced a pained wince fronized that shelf - his father’s s, stories his father had written; his father’s diaries Lawrence gulped as he watched his father grasp each volue upon page; pages of writings, of letters, of memories His father tore each froing fla with anger, Lawrence watched as years of work, years of thoughts, years of dreas splayed out, fell into the flames, to be lost forever And when his father finished he pulled the bindings of the books apart, tore the paper Ashes danced and fell to the floor in front of him, as his father fell to his knees and watched the flames continue