He called over his bodyguard. “Spread the word: Mr. McCarthy is planning to marry a divorced woman.”
“Carney…” Leda sounded anxious. “Won’t that make Ablett furious?”
“So what if it does?” Carney replied, unmoved. “The more people who want him, the more trouble they’ll cause for Blanche. He’ll be so busy putting out fires, he won’t have the time or energy to come looking for me.” He took Leda’s hand firmly. “Trust me, I’ll make sure you marry into the McCarthy family.”
“Just focus on getting better and prepare to be a bride.”
With Carney’s reassurance, Leda finally felt at ease. Still, the thought of how fiercely Ablett protected Blanche left her feeling hollow.
…
Inside the car, Ablett sat reading over some documents while Blanche stared out the window. The rain had come out of nowhere, pounding down in sheets.
A gust of wind blew the rain inside.
Ablett reached over to close the window for her, leaning in so close that Blanche caught the faint scent of ink and paper on his clothes. She looked up, meeting his eyes—he was mere inches away.
“Why don’t you tell your parents the truth?” he said softly.
Blanche hated the way lying made her feel—guilty and small.
They both froze for a moment, neither moving. Ablett fixed his gaze on her. “Tell them,” he said, “then what?”
“They’d never agree to us getting married.”
“And then?”
“Then… we’d get a divorce.” Blanche lowered her voice, her guilt clear.
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