Slave to the Night (The Brotherhood Series, Book 2) (8 page)

Grace felt a little overwhelmed by their generous hospitality. She turned to Lord Markham, her heart lurching as she didn't know when she would see him again. "Will you be here when I return?"

Before he could answer, Lady Hale blurted, "Of course he'll be here. Won't you Elliot? He has nothing to rush home for. Besides, Alexander wants him to stay."

Lord Hale looked up at his wife. "I do?" When she widened her eyes and nodded vigorously, he added. "Yes, I do. I'll get us a drink, Elliot. I think we both need one."

Lady Hale walked over and kissed her husband on the cheek. With a warm smile, he took her hand, caressed her palm with his thumb. "We won't be long. Elliot will keep you company."

As a couple, they were openly affectionate. Even if they had never spoken a word, their love lit up the room. It was a stark contrast to the way she had felt with Henry and she struggled to suppress the melancholic mood taking hold.

Grace followed the lady up the stairs and to a door on the right. "I thought you might like this room. I've always found that yellow lifts the spirits."

From the pale lemon hangings to the deep gold walls, the room radiated a cheerful warmth that Grace found welcoming. "It's a beautiful room. I am so grateful to you for letting me stay."

Lady Hale sat down on the bed and patted the coverlet next to her. "Please, sit and tell me all about your sister."

Grace repeated everything she had told Lord Markham. After numerous attempts trying to call her Lady Hale, Grace finally conceded and agreed to call her Evelyn. Instinct told her she could trust Evelyn, and there was no point trying to present Caroline in a more favourable light.

"I understand your concern, Grace. I'm sure your sister would not have intentionally left you alone in the city. Elliot is an honourable man and will help you in any way he can."

"No doubt, he feels obliged to help. I never really gave him much choice in the matter."

"Elliot is not a man who bows to obligation. Whatever he has done, he has done because he wants to." Evelyn placed her hand on Grace's arm. "His illness has hardened his heart. But underneath he is a good man."

"I must confess when I pulled back the drapes … when I first saw his face …" Grace swallowed as she recalled the shocking vision. "Had it not been for the fact he desperately needed me, I think I would have run away."

Evelyn sighed. "But thankfully you didn't. Elliot has been kind enough to help you and in return, you will help him."

"Help him?" She had no idea how to treat such an affliction. "I don't understand. I am not a doctor and know nothing of medicine."

Evelyn smiled. "I am not referring to his illness. Elliot believes he is incapable of caring for others, which is not the case at all. He needs a friend who can accept him for what he is, who will not judge him based on his strange affliction."

Grace recalled the lord's amorous words. "I think his idea of friendship is vastly different to mine."

Evelyn offered her a knowing smile.

"It's just that he knows of no other way to express himself. He is used to hiding in the dark. To him, it represents the absence of light, the loss of all that is good in him. Be his friend, Grace. He will fight it but show him it is what's in the heart that matters."

Grace did feel a burning need to offer the lord some comfort. But it would be on her terms. "Finding Caroline must be my priority. If Lord Markham continues to assist me, then I will consider all you have said."

"Excellent," Evelyn beamed. "Let us return to the gentlemen. We will break with convention and tell Mrs. Anderson we'll eat in the parlour."

As they walked back into the parlour, Grace's attention was drawn to the empty sofa.

Evelyn looked about the room as Lord Hale stood. "Are you alone?" she asked with a hint of surprise.

Lord Hale cleared his throat. "Elliot offered his apologies. He has a prior engagement and has taken his leave. He asked me to tell you, Mrs. Denton, that he will make some enquiries whilst out in the hope of finding your sister."

"What could be more important than his engagement here?" Evelyn sounded most put out.

"Erm … Lady Fortescue's ball. I believe he agreed to accompany Leo."

Grace suppressed her disappointment. She was familiar with the distraction techniques of men. Avoidance was by far the simplest way of dealing with any emotion.

Grace turned to Evelyn. "Would you mind if I went upstairs for a while?"

"Of course not. Would you like Mrs. Anderson to bring your dinner up to you?"

Grace forced a smile. "If it's no trouble."

"It's no trouble at all. And if you need anything more don't hesitate to ask."

As she climbed the stairs to her room, her thoughts were drawn back to her rogue of a dead husband. No one had spoken up for her. No one had come to her aid. She had been pushed and cajoled into a situation that had brought nothing but heartache.

Caroline had acted selfishly — Grace refused to let bitterness cloud her judgement and behave the same way.

Henry had acted abominably — never again would she be ignored by a man or be treated as a worthless object, someone unworthy, inferior.

If Elliot Markham expected her to sit at home with her embroidery frame and wait for news, then he was sorely mistaken.

Chapter 7

"I want to hear it all," Leo said as they stared nonchalantly at the hordes of happy couples dancing. "Caroline Rosemond, who would have thought." He gave a drawn-out whistle. "And you said nothing could tempt you to accept an offer from such a celebrated courtesan."

"Nothing did," Elliot remarked cryptically, offering Lady Fortescue a respectful nod as she sauntered by.

For some unfathomable reason, he was tired of their usual antics. Looking for the next conquest had lost its appeal. Leo pointed out a few ladies alerting them to their availability by tapping their fans to their hearts. The irony of the gesture was not lost on him and brought to mind Grace Denton's insistence that lust without sentiment left her cold.

"You should avoid the ones with wigs and powdered faces," Elliot said with some amusement, "as you're sure to find nothing but frogs and toads beneath."

Leo raised a curious brow. "You're in a strange mood this evening." When Elliot didn't bother to reply, he added, "Well. Are you going to tell me why you took Miss Rosemond into your home? Why you have broken two of the rules you so rigidly observe."

"I did not break them both," Elliot said with a sigh. "The lady you saw was not Caroline Rosemond." He did not give Leo a chance to show his surprise as in a stern tone he added, "You're not to say a word of it to anyone. As a brother, I am asking for your discretion in the matter."

"Of course. Although I fear you were either in your cups or may be in dire need of spectacles."

Just as there were similarities between the sisters, the differences were just as striking. As her name suggested, Grace possessed a natural elegance. Everything about Caroline was contrived. Grace's inner beauty shone through, whereas Caroline radiated nothing but conceit.

"The lady you met was Mrs. Denton, Caroline's sister. Miss Rosemond has not been seen for a few days. There's a fear something untoward has occurred."

As expected, Leo made an odd puffing noise. "She's probably off on some jaunt with her latest beau, lounging naked in front of a warm fire whilst being fed exotic fruit. Or perhaps she's in Brighton, frolicking in a bathing machine. But what has it all got to do with you?"

Leo's attention drifted to the luscious lady with honey-gold hair who walked past and brushed seductively against him. The obvious advance would usually rouse Elliot's amusement, and he'd make a merry quip in response. Yet tonight he could not shake the feeling of disdain.

He had left Alexander's house in haste. The need to spend a few uncomplicated hours, where he could ignore the range of newly awakened emotions flooding his mind and body, had proved futile. Talking about Grace Denton caused memories of their stimulating conversation in the carriage to resurface. In comparison, everything else felt so miserably dull and predictable.

"Caroline Rosemond wrote something about me in her diary," Elliot replied, tapping Leo on the arm to refocus his attention. "She'd mentioned meeting a Markham, although Grace believes it may be short for something else."

"Grace?"

"I mean Mrs. Denton."

"I assume if she stayed the night with you then there is no Mr. Denton."

"She's a widow."

Leo placed his hand on Elliot's shoulder. "And so now you've sampled her wares you're out on the hunt once more."

Anger ignited, the sudden burst of fury causing him to knock Leo's hand away. "Do not speak of her in such base terms. It is nothing like that. She's a friend who needs my help."

Leo took an unsteady step back, his bottom lip practically hitting the floor.

"Close your mouth," Elliot continued in a calmer tone. "Else you'll be gagging on powder and perfume for a month."

"I'm just surprised that's all. I've never known you speak so highly of any woman. Let alone one you've only known for a day."

Was it really only a day?

If he were openly courting her, the quality of time they'd spent together in the last twenty-four hours would equate to months. He did feel a strange connection to her. Perhaps because she wasn't fawning over him. Perhaps because she had rejected his advances. His mind started drifting then.

What would it take for her to succumb to his charms?

If only he could break through her rigid defences. Mr. Denton's skill in the bedchamber must have been terribly poor indeed. Else why would she believe that pleasure had more to do with emotion as opposed to how one used the relevant parts of their anatomy. It wouldn't take much to prove her wrong. Elliot knew a trick that would curl her toes and have her begging for release.

Damn it. The thought caused his cock to pulse and throb.

Perhaps if he satisfied his needs with one of the ladies currently flashing him a generous eyeful of their bosom, he might succeed in banishing all lustful dreams of Grace Denton. Clutching to the merits of that idea, he scanned the room.

No one roused his interest.

"I assumed Alexander would want to spend the night alone with his bride," Leo continued. "I know how he detests being out in Society."

Elliot shook his head and tried to focus on the conversation. "I did not bother to ask if he wished to attend. Besides, a ballroom is the last place he would choose to be, particularly when he is so besotted with Evelyn." He decided not to mention the fact they were entertaining a guest. "He's probably cuddled up on the chaise, reciting poetry and exchanging endearments, amongst other things."

A sharp pang of guilt hit him in the chest for leaving Grace Denton alone with the amorous couple.

"No, he's not," Leo said with a chuckle. "He's over there."

Leo pointed to the opposite side of the ballroom. Elliot raised his chin and narrowed his gaze in an attempt to gain an optimum view.

"Don't be ridiculous. That can't be him," Elliot said, convinced there must be some mistake. Yes, the gentleman had broad shoulders and dark hair, but he suspected they would both chuckle with amusement when he turned around to reveal he was older or wore spectacles or had some absurd feature that set him apart.

"I swear to you, that is Alexander. I saw him walk in."

The gentleman in question turned and scoured the room, his hard stare locking with Elliot's curious gaze. It took a moment for Elliot's brain to process the familiar vision before him.

Shock quickly replaced denial and then a deep sense of foreboding took hold. Without saying a word to Leo, Elliot pushed through the crowd, eager to discover the reason for Alexander's attendance.

On witnessing his approach, Alexander took a few steps towards him.

"You never mentioned you'd be here this evening," Elliot said, even more surprised to discover Evelyn standing at his side. He glanced over her shoulder, relieved to find they were alone. "I assume Mrs. Denton has settled in?"

Having the advantage of being a few inches taller, Alexander glared down at him. "Do not speak to me of Mrs. Denton," he said through clenched teeth. "That woman has ruined my entire evening."

Evelyn threaded her arm through her husband's and hugged it. "Oh, don't say that. It wouldn't do if all the nights were the same."

Alexander snorted. "It would do perfectly well for me."

"When will we next have an opportunity to waltz or listen to such a marvellous orchestra? And there may be no orangery here, but I hear Lady Fortescue has a wonderful hothouse."

Elliot grinned. "There are not many gentlemen who are happy to admit to their love of flowers."

"You're not remotely funny," Alexander replied. "Next time you leave us to tend to one of your flock, at least have the decency to inform us that we're harbouring a cunning wolf in the guise of a sweet little lamb."

"Well, I like her," Evelyn interjected. "I admire her tenacity and think she's incredibly brave."