The Blood of a Baron - K.J. Jackson Page 0,31
inclined his head to his friend. He left Rune by the tree, strolling back to Laney. Slowly, for he needed the moment, needed the clear air away from Laney.
He’d not had a break from her in the last few days and it was playing with his head, with his mind.
Warping all he’d planned to do to her.
He still held the goal in his mind—the revenge he wanted to extract. But he feared he no longer felt it. No longer wanted to see Laney suffer, to crush under the weight of all she’d done to him.
The glimpses of the guilt he’d seen that she held for her actions seven years ago gave him no solace. If anything, he’d had to hold his tongue against comforting her. Against telling her the past didn’t matter.
It did matter.
It mattered so much it was all he’d obsessed on for seven years.
He couldn’t lose it now. Couldn’t be weak.
“Jacobson.”
At his name in the air, Wes’s head swiveled to the right.
Dammit to all hell.
His second cousin peeled away from the group of four men he was walking with, his gold-headed lion-head cane swinging jauntily by his side. The four men stopped, stepping off the lane of crushed limestone, and huddled, pretending disinterest, though their glances kept hopping from Wes to his cousin.
His cousin stopped in front of him, his head inclining toward Wes. “Jacobson.”
“Platford.” The name crossed Wes’s tongue with bitter bile.
“Didn’t know you were in town, cousin,” Platford said.
“Didn’t know you would care one way or another.” Wes looked down at his cousin. The man had never grown into the stature that had marked the men of their lineage for generations. He wasn’t even as tall as Laney.
His cousin smiled, smarmy, the same snake smile that he had perfected at an early age at Platford Abbey in Yorkshire. The smile that had surfaced as he’d tortured defenseless frogs and the little girls at the estate.
“Not so much care, as I would advise you not to be seen in such respectable surroundings.” Platford waved his cane about him. “It’s been seven years and the family name has only just barely recovered from your scandal. Under much consideration and effort by myself, of course.”
Wes’s lips pulled back into a strained line. “Forgive me if I don’t adhere to your advisement. I have, in fact, purchased a house in London some time ago so I’m afraid all your hard work is moot. I will surely sully the family name in short order.”
“You bought a house in London?” Platford’s smarmy smile vanished, his top lip curling on the right side. “Blasted asinine move, Jacobson.”
“Or smart. I’m only a stone’s throw away from the Platford townhouse.” Wes’s head tilted to the side. “Or at least a stone’s throw for me. I imagine you would have to throw the stone three, four times to reach the distance.”
“Find another corner of the world to soil.” Platford’s mouth turned into a full sneer as he slammed the tip of his cane into the grass by Wes’s feet. “The family doesn’t need you, doesn’t want you anywhere in this town, anywhere in their vicinity.”
“The family doesn’t? Why on earth would I care what your pinched-faced mother and your sniveling little brother think of me?”
Platford lifted his cane. “You’ll care because I will crush you, you imbecile. You and everything you’re involved in, you overgrown—”
“Excuse me, Lord Platford.” Laney interrupted his cousin and threaded her left hand along Wes’s elbow just as he was lifting his arm to punch the slimy bastard directly in his smarmy mouth.
She smiled sweetly at Platford. “I do not mean to interrupt, but it has been so very long since I’ve seen you and I wanted to convey my congratulations on the birth of your fifth child. How very pleased you must be.”
Blinking, Platford stuttered away his lost words for a moment before he turned his look onto Laney. His cane fell to his side. “Of course, Lady Helena. Thank you.”
Laney took a step forward—close enough to look down upon the man. “I hope all is well with your—forgive me, but I am never in London and news is slow and oftentimes interrupted on its way to Gruggin Manor. Is this your second or third wife?”
“My third, actually.” Red crept up Platford’s neck, snaking along the outside of his face to his cheeks.
A frown set on Laney’s face as her head angled to the side. “How very tragic for you. I do hope the current Lady Platford and the new addition