“What will you do now, Alex?”
“The sun will be rising soon,” he whispered. “I’ll take you home.”
He hadn’t really answered her question, and she didn’t want to go. She wanted to continue whatever it was they’d started, here, in this decrepit garret. But she wouldn’t beg. No. And she knew, deep down, by stopping, Alex had saved her from a life of heart ache.
********
There’d be hell to pay.
Alex let the curtain fall back into place over the dusty window and sank back into the corner of the hack. He recognized the carriage that followed. Lady Lavender had located him already. But hadn’t he known she would?
He pushed aside thoughts of escape, thoughts of freedom, and focused on Grace sitting so primly across from him. His mind spun, his senses still reeling from that kiss. How he’d wanted to stay in that dreary garret forever and for a brief, insane moment he thought he could. He and Grace, live in a chamber and do nothing but make love. And they’d have babies. Babies with dirty faces and torn clothing. Babies that would cry because they were hungry. He tore his gaze away, unable to look her in the eyes. As if she’d ever have a man like him, a man with no money, no name, no soul.
Besides, within a day Lady Lavender would have hunted him down and forced him to return. She owned him. There was no use in trying to escape, until he found a way to break free from her grasp forever.
Yes, he would pay for running off tonight. God, but it was worth it. For one brief moment he’d experienced freedom. He could still taste her lips, smell her vanilla scent upon his clothing. Those few brief moments with Grace had been worth whatever beating he’d endure.
“Thank you Alex. It was an…adventure.” Grace’s soft voice whispered seductively from across the hired hack. An adventure. The kiss or the fight? Darkness hid her features from view making it impossible to guess the way of her thoughts and how desperately he wanted to know.
“You don’t have to see me home, you know.”
He flexed his fingers, his injured arm throbbing. “Any gentleman would.”
She smiled, her white teeth flashing. “You said you were no gentleman.”
He could no longer resist and shrugged, moving across the carriage to sit beside her. Her warm body pressed intimately to his. She didn’t scoot away, but merely gazed up at him with eyes that shone with lingering with passion. Eyes that reminded him of the intimacy they’d shared, eyes that remembered their kiss.
“I have my moments. Besides,” he looked at her wryly. “You saved my life and all.”
She grinned, a grin that made him want to kiss her all over again. “Yes, true.” He slid his arm around her waist and drew her lush body closer, taking comfort in her presence.
“What are you doing?” she finally protested.
“It’s bloody cold and the first thing you learn in a brothel, is that body heat is the best way to get warm.” He was relieved when she didn’t attempt to argue with his statement. “It was very stupid, you know, what you did.”
“The board?” She tilted her head back and looked up at him.
“Yes.”
She shrugged, not looking the least offended. “I thought to get on with it. You two were taking an awfully long time, dancing as you were.”
He sighed, rubbing his tired eyelids. “We weren’t dancing.” He was more amused than annoyed. Perhaps they both knew their time together was limited. Why argue? He breathed deep the scent of her hair, attempting to memorize the smell. Underneath the stale scent of smoke and whiskey, he could smell that warmth. But there was something else there, a spicy scent…a masculine scent. Him, he realized with a start. She smelled like him. It was an oddly pleasant realization that warmed his heart. She unlatched her jacket and pulled it foreward, tucking the edges around the two of them.
“Sometimes, many times, women must be the voice of reason.”
He chuckled. “Really?”
“Yes. Men,” she said, “tend—”
He took her hand under the jacket, his fingers slipping between hers. Neither of them wore gloves and their palms were intimately close; skin pressed to skin. Her breath came out in sharp little pants that stirred her loose tendrils and tickled his neck.
“Yes?” he prompted, secretly pleased that she’d lost her train of thought because of his touch. “You were saying?”
She shook her head. “That…that men tend to focus on silly pleasures, like gambling, horses, intimacy.”
He rested the side of his face against her hair and soaked in her scent. “I assure you my dear, there are many women who are as interested in sex as there are men.”
He swore he could feel her face flush. The top of her head grew heated. The woman could walk, bold as you please, into a gaming hell dressed as a man, yet if he dared to say the word
sex
, she became a shy wallflower.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Well, men don’t realize how their actions affect their families.”
He frowned, his humor fading. She was obviously speaking from experience. “And your Lord Rodick—”
“Rodrick.”
“Right, your lord Rodick. Is he different?”
She rested her free hand on his chest, playing with the collar of his shirt. Did she even realize her actions? “I don’t know,” she said. “I thought…no, I hoped…but…” She sighed a long, pathetic sigh. “Do you think he gambles often?”
She looked up at him, trusting his answer. Damn it all. She would marry the earl for his money because of a wastrel brother. If not her dear Lord Rodrick, it would be another man just as wretched. So why not just tell her the truth?
“No, I’m sure he only does upon occasion,” he lied.
She smiled. “Thank you, Alex.”
He nodded, a lump of some unidentifiable emotion forming in his throat. The carriage turned a corner and she sank further into his side. They were growing closer to her home, the shacks giving way to townhomes. He wrapped his arm around her waist, the frantic need to keep her with him pounding through his veins. “Tell me something, anything about you that others don’t know.”
She frowned, a small crease hitching between her brows. “Well, on days when I’m feeling rather particularly melancholy, I like to go to the museum.”
He smiled at her admission. No taundry sexuall affair as most women would have admitted to him. A secret pure and simple, yet something scandalous all the same. A woman who liked to
think
?
“And the book, the one you were searching for?”
“Oh, that.” She spread her fingers over his, entwining them together more tightly. It was an action she did without thinking, yet pleased him all the same. “Silly, really. It has to do with buried treasure.”
He smiled, thinking back to his childhood. How many times had he and Dem searched for treasures? “Not so silly,” he whispered.
She looked up at him. “Truly, you don’t think so?”
He brushed his free hand down the side of her face, caressing her soft cheek. “Not at all.”
For one long moment they merely stared at each other. There was a helplessness to her gaze that sent his heart thundering. An unspoken emotion that pulsed between them. The carriage slowed and the connection broke. Grace leaned forward, peeking out the window. “Home.”
She didn’t sound relieved. The carriage drew to a stop, but neither of them moved. He didn’t want her to leave, he didn’t want the night to end. He didn’t want to return to Lady Lavender’s. Yes, the moment he’d stepped from that gaming hell, the thought of freedom had terrified him. But now…knowing what freedom represented…now he felt the panicked need to hold it close, to hold Grace close.
“I should—”
“Yes,” Alex replied in a husky voice, “you should.”
So why did she continue to merely sit there as if she wanted something more from him? Alex’s heart pounded, his body growing warm. She felt it… the inexplicable emotion coursing between them. How desperately he wanted to demand the driver take them to the closest train station. But no, he couldn’t do that to her. She deserved more than he could give. She deserved her earl.
“Alex, I…” She dropped her gaze to his lips.
Tempting. So tempting. She wanted him to kiss her, he could feel it deep within. So why didn’t he? Because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop.
From outside a door opened and shut, shattering the moment.
Alex glanced out the window. Rodrick stood on the front stoop of a stately brick home, like most of the other townhomes in the area. Nice. But little things…over grown bushes, peeling paint…hinted that it was falling into disrepair. It certainly didn’t compare to the mansions he’d lived in back on the continent.
Home.
He hadn’t thought about home in years and he sure as hell wouldn’t now.
“Grace,” Rodrick called out, bounding down the steps.
Alex pulled back, handing Grace her jacket. “Where will you go?” she asked, obviously worried about him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about her concern.
“Back to the estate.”
“But why?” she demanded. “Alex, it’s your chance to—”
“Thank the heavens,” Rodrick exclaimed. “I was just about to send a constable after you. We couldn’t locate your whereabouts, but John said you were in good hands.” He jerked open the carriage door and glared at Alex as if he highly doubted John’s statement. At least this Rodrick had more sense than Grace’s brother.
Grace sighed an exasperated sigh. She didn’t like being treated like a child. “I’m quite well, as you can see.” She leaned forward, allowing Rodrick to help her from the carriage. But the moment her feet hit the ground, she turned toward Alex.
“Grace, you must come in before you catch a chill.” Rodrick took her arm. For some reason the action irritated Alex. Damn it all, he wanted to say something… anything. But thank you for a lovely evening seemed rather ridiculous given the circumstances.
Grace hesitated, her soft eyes searching Alex’s face for what, he wasn’t sure.
“Go. I’m fine.” Alex pulled the door shut and tapped the roof, urging the driver on. He had to leave now before he couldn’t resist her. The image of snatching Grace from the street and taking off in the carriage would torment him the entire drive.
He had to let her go. She didn’t belong with him. No, she belonged here, with men like Rodrick.
“Thank you,” she called out as the carriage jerked to life.
He nodded, his fingers curling into his thighs. “It was nothing.”
She stood in the middle of the street watching him until the carriage turned a corner and he could no longer see her. “It was nothing,” he whispered to himself.
But the punishment he would receive when he returned would say otherwise.
Chapter 10
Alex had been injured. It was only natural that she should check on his health. After all, it was her fault he’d received the knife injury. So yes, it was perfectly natural to drive the hour to Lady Lavender’s Estate and query over his welfare.
So why, then, was she merely standing in the alley with the garbage?
Rodrick had been such a nuisance all morning, asking her questions about Alex. Of course she’d lied, inventing some story about how he was a distant cousin. But when he’d left, he’d still been frowning. He would most likely uncover the truth, but at the time she hadn’t cared. She’d merely wanted him gone.
She’d tried to sleep, but had spent the morning pacing her room until Patience had pleaded with her to stop; the creaking floorboards were driving her mad. By six in the morning, Grace had realized she would never rest until she knew if Alex was well. She wouldn’t have the man die on her. The guilt would be too much.
So with Rodrick gone, John sleeping off his drink, and Patience watching Mama, she’d snuck out just as the sun had crested the horizon and used what little money she’d saved to hire a hack to drive her the hour outside London. The moment she’d smelled those lavender fields, her heart had leapt to life.
All that money spent, time gone… and here she stood, contemplating leaving. Grace adjusted her veil and stepped closer to the back door determined to get on with it. She was surprised by how easy it had been to walk through those gates. Surprised and confused. At times she thought Alex was here against his will, other times he almost seemed as if he enjoyed his position. Who was the true Alex? Only one way to find out.
Before she lost nerve, she let her knuckles fall, then quickly she knocked twice more. Too late to leave now. With a shudder, she stepped back and waited. Moments later the door opened and a maid peeked her freckled face outside.
“Yes, Mum?”
“I need to speak with Alex.”
“Who is it, Izzie?” someone called in a gruff voice.
An old woman pushed the girl aside. Her weathered face showed not the slightest bit of friendliness and Grace had to resist the urge to shrink back.
“Alex, please,” Grace demanded, as if she belonged there in that back alley.
The old woman slowly scanned her form, as if judging her worth. She shook her gray head, apparently finding her lacking. “If ye must see the men, ye have tae go through Lady Lavender. Enter through the front.”