“I love games.” Cleopatra affirmed with a gentle smile that made Allina’s face beam with delight.
“I am so glad!” She held onto Cleopatra’s skirt, picking up the material between her fingers and playing with it. “Alexander recently bought me a new spillikins set, would you like to play?” Allina bobbed on her toes with excitement.
“Yes, of course.” Cleopatra smiled as the girl drew her across the room toward the fire, towing her with her skirt.
Allina dropped to her knees by the fire and pulled out a small wooden box, lifting the lid to reveal inside a sparkling new set of ivory spillikins. Cleopatra knelt beside her, looking between the young woman who was preparing the game with childish glee and Alexander who sat in the chair nearby. He was watching her closely, his gray-blue gaze narrowed in thought.
“Here, you go first,” Allina declared, sitting back on her knees.
Cleopatra picked up one of the ivory sticks, trying not to disturb the others, but she tipped one of the others over.
“Oh, I have lost my turn,” Cleopatra smiled as Allina giggled again.
“That means I have two goes!” Allina picked up two of the sticks with happiness.
“Alexander, would you like a turn?” Cleopatra looked up to him, still frowning in curiosity.
“My brother is too good at this game.” Allina laughed again as she waved at Cleopatra to have her turn. “You do not want him to play or we will definitely lose.” Cleopatra picked up her stick as the new revelation hit home.
Brother–
“We could play something that I am not so good at,” Alexander smiled, it was a genuine smile, soft and full. Cleopatra admired it, and the curve of his cheeks. “Where are those new cards I bought for you?”
“They are in my room. I will go get them.” Allina jumped to her feet and hurried to her room, skipping all the way.
Cleopatra watched as the girl’s hair tied with a ribbon bobbed behind her. When she was out of sight, Cleopatra turned her eyes back to Alexander.
“Your sister?” she whispered, unsure what else to say.
“Yes,” Alexander whispered back. “She is wonderful, but she will always be like this.”
Cleopatra smiled softly, her eyes turning to the door where Allina had just disappeared through.
“There is an innocence to a life like this.”
“That there is,” Alexander nodded as he leaned down to the floor and picked up one of the spillikins ivory sticks, skillfully avoiding disturbing any of the others.
“You are good at this game.”
“I am the best.” He smiled as he placed the stick with her own pile. “Cleopatra, this is where I was the day Robert died.”
The news stunned her. She was still processing the new information when Allina returned with the cards in her hands.
“What shall we play?” She knelt on a chair by a table, bundling her petticoats around her ankles as a child would.
“How about Pope Joan?” Alexander asked as he stood to his feet and offered a hand to Cleopatra to help her to her feet, she took it willingly.
“I do not like Pope Joan,” Allina complained and stuck her bottom lip out. “It is too complicated. How about fish?”
“Sounds perfect, Sweetheart,” Alexander led Cleopatra over to the table and pulled out a chair for her to sit. Cleopatra watched him as he moved away, observing the gentle touch he gave to his sister’s shoulder, one of love.
They played fish for what felt like an hour as Cleopatra’s mind whirred with thoughts, constantly glancing between the two people with her and paying them much more attention than she was giving to the game. Allina’s playful mind was not much older than that of John’s. She loved her games and spoke at length of things a child would. She was loving of her brother, but she also possessed a great love of teasing him.
Cleopatra liked her very much indeed.
Alexander explained how he came to see Allina every day. The truth with which he spoke and the love he clearly bore for his sister persuaded Cleopatra completely that he was telling the truth when he had said he was with Allina the day Robert died.
For a portion of the game, Cleopatra observed every move Alexander made. She admired his gentlemanly manners and his sweetness toward Allina. She appraised his handsome looks and the care with which he ensured Allina had enough food and drink when refreshments were brought by Mrs. Webb.
Cleopatra clutched her stomach amid her admiration, realizing how wrong she had been.
Alexander is not Robert’s killer after all. Now, I can be certain.
“Must she stay in the west wing?” Cleopatra asked as she and Alexander returned to their rooms. He was carrying a single candle to light their way.
“It is her favorite place in the Manor. Though ordinarily she has free rein of the entire Manor and gardens, I will admit…” he hesitated, urging her to look at him and observe the discomfort in his handsome features. “I encouraged the idea she should be limited to the west wing when you and John moved in.”
“She is a delight, Alexander. She never needed to be confined there. Did you truly think I would not like her?” She placed a hand on Alexander’s elbow, feeling pain in her stomach when he would not return her gaze directly.
“It was…a fear I had. Not because I thought you capable of being cruel to her, but because I know what others think.” He nodded and resumed their walk down the corridor, casting their steps in amber light. “I know the ton. I know how they think. They would belittle her, gossip about her.”
Cleopatra wished she could say they would not, but she knew enough of the ton to know it was true.
“I could never subject her to that,” Alexander shook his head with fortitude. “As you said, she is an innocent. I could not willingly place her in harm’s way of their gossip.”
“So, you keep her here to protect her.”
“I do. She is happy. That is what matters most to me.” He smiled again; his eyes settled down the corridor on Cleopatra’s door. “When you and John moved in, if I had not kept her hidden it would be allowing someone else to know of her. My fear of people gossiping of her won that argument.”
“I guess I have not exactly given you reason to trust me with your secrets,” she teased, relieved when he laughed.
“I suppose not. You did plaster my last secret across the front of one of the most popular newspapers in London.”
“I suppose I should apologize for that.”
“Apology accepted,” he stopped by her door and offered her the candle. “But you understand why I still kept Allina a secret?”
“I do,” Cleopatra took the candle from him, allowing their fingers to brush slightly. It elicited the same excitement in her she had felt the evening before when they had shared a bed, but this time, he flinched, looking away from her again. “She will never…” she struggled for the right words, “her mind will always be–”
“As it is now, yes.” Alexander nodded, placing his hands behind his back. “She has the mind of a child. She finds amusement in the small things in life and cannot handle the big things. That is why I do not bring them to her door.”
“In a way, I envy her,” Cleopatra smiled as she twisted the candle in her hand.
“You do? Why?” Alexander looked down at her. His eyes were almost green in the candlelight.
“She has an excuse to avoid the horrors of this world. Would you not wish to avoid them too if you could?”
“Yes, I see your meaning,” he smiled at the thought then nodded to her door. “Good night, Cleopatra. I will leave you to your sleep. Tomorrow, I give you my word. I will search as hard for John just as I would for Allina.”
“Thank you. Good night, Alexander.” She watched as he turned away and retreated back down the corridor, disappearing from the aura of the candlelight and into the darkness.
How could I have been so wrong about him?
Realizing how much she had misunderstood him, her feet hesitated beneath her. She took a step down the corridor as tho
ugh to follow him and then one back toward her door, debating which way to go.
Chapter Twenty
Cleopatra turned to her bedroom door and stepped inside, still debating whether she should have decided to follow Alexander instead. She undressed quickly, covering herself with her lace nightgown and sat at the dressing table to brush out her hair, where Alexander had brushed her hair the night before.
She ached, missing John with every part of her being. Disappointment filled her with the thought that John could truly run away. Not just from this Manor, but from her. The thought tormented her as she prepared for bed and climbed beneath the covers, blowing out the single candle that kept her company.
In the moonlight that seeped through the window, she laid in the bed with her eyes wide open, unable to sleep. She tossed and turned, too busy with the thoughts in her mind.
Part of her debated where John could be, thinking through every memory she had of him, the different places where they had visited together.
The other part of her kept returning to Alexander. The love he had shown for his sister and his dedication to protecting her was overwhelming. It called her mind back to the carriage ride together earlier that day, where had offered her to continue their marriage of convenience as she saw fit. How she could retreat from Larson Manor if she wished to.
What if I do not want to?
She rolled over in bed again, returning her mind to thoughts of John. The idea that pick pocketers and thieves could have found him forced her to sit up in bed and abandon sleep completely.
The sharpness of the moonlight brought clarity to her thoughts.
I cannot sleep yet.
Cleopatra knew it was a daring thing to do. Perhaps it would not even be welcome, but she did not care anymore. She had to see him. She could not go to sleep without speaking to him.
She knocked on Alexander’s door and waited for him to answer.
“Enter.”
She opened the door slightly and peered inside, surprised to find Alexander was not in his bed but sat in a window seat. With his back against the wall, his elbow resting on the windowsill and his feet resting on the bench, he was wearing just his open shirt and his trousers, his face cast in the white moonlight.
His face twitched with surprise seeing her in the doorway.
“You cannot sleep either?” she asked as she stepped in and closed the door behind her.
“No,” he shook his head, “too much on my mind.”
“Me too.” She walked toward him, moving from the shadows to the moonlight.
The smallest of smiles tweaked his lips.
“I thought you had had enough of me for one day.”
“It is not that.” She moved to his side and pointed at the bench. “May I?”
He nodded and pulled his legs back a little, allowing her to sit within the alcove opposite him, her back against the wall and her face turned to his.
“You look tired,” he leaned into his hand on the windowsill.
“I am, but sleep will not come. John…” she paused, searching for the right words, “he…”
“You cannot escape thinking of him.”
“Just so,” she nodded, and moved her eyes down on her hands, struggling with the feelings warring within her. “Until this moment I thought the most painful moment of my life was having to tell John that Robert had died.”
“How did he take it?” Alexander’s voice was deep, almost a whisper.
“It was difficult to explain,” she shrugged and raised her eyes, seeing he was watching her closely. “He’s still so young. Having to explain Robert was not going to come back was just…almost an impossible task.”
“When did your father die?”
“Five years ago.” She wiggled in the seat, trying to get comfortable. “He died in battle.”
“He was a Navy General?”
“Yes, that’s right,” she swallowed, trying to ignore the feelings that came to the surface. The longing, the pain, the fear. “John was so young at the time; it did not even need explaining. One day Father was there, the next he was not.”
“What of your Mother? How did she die?” Alexander rested his head back on the wall behind him, still watching her.
“Giving birth to John.”
“Dear God.” Alexander shook his head with the smallest of laughs, it was a scoff as though at life itself. “You have been plagued with one disaster after another.”
“Hm,” she nodded, thinking about what words to offer on this thought.
“I understand even more what you mean now, about Allina.” He smiled, looking out of the window. “She is able to escape the world’s darkness.”
Cleopatra looked down at the wedding ring on her finger, with the Egyptian motif. She twisted it around on her finger, watching the diamonds glint in the moonlight.
“Tell me something else,” Alexander’s soft voice urged her to look up again.
“Something else?”
“Anything about yourself.”
She returned his smile and re-adjusted in her seat again, preparing to speak of secrets she did not tell anyone.
“I loved my Mother and Father dearly. After she died, my Father was keen that we should always be able to protect ourselves. He taught me how to shoot and fence.”
“You can handle a sword?” he smiled at the idea.
“A little, but I am better with a pistol.”
“I shall have to test your skills some time,” he winked with mischief, causing her to laugh.
“Sounds like an enjoyable challenge.” Her smile disappeared, “After my Father’s death, Robert struggled. He chose not to go into the Army after all. He said he did it to stay and look out for me, but–”
“But you do not believe him? Why not?”
“I believe Robert loved me dearly, of course, I do.” She saw Alexander was watching her closely; his brow bore the slightest dimple of a frown, she wanted to brush it away. “But his preference for the gaming halls has since shown what his true reasons were for staying in London.”
“Ah, I am sorry, Cleopatra, but Robert’s reputation was a poor one. You are aware of that?”
“Much more so now,” she nodded, trying to ignore the pain such a fact caused. “My brother’s propensity for gambling was not our only problem.”
“What else was there? You have surely had enough poor luck for one person to bear.”
“This is not about luck. It is about me.” At her declaration, Alexander’s eyebrows raised. “Robert was keen to see me married. I was of age, of course, it would be natural, but he had some…difficulty.”
“I realize I am biased on this subject, but for what reason could it be difficult?” He tilted his head to the side, causing the moonlight to make his gray-blue eyes silver.
Cleopatra was distracted for a minute, too busy admiring the illusion of color before she shook herself free of the mesmerizing hold.
“I think you are being kind,” she looked away from his silvery eyes. “You know as well as any I am hardly the ‘submissive’ wife many men desire.”
“Men do not want a submissive wife,” he scoffed at the idea.
“No? I was told that they did on a daily basis.” She turned her eyes out of the window, twisting to see the garden bathed in white moonlight. “Robert said I was too assertive, too bold and too brazen to be what a man wanted.”
“I have many objections I could make against such an argument, but I thought you were betrothed at one point?”
“I was. To Mr. Charles Brockenhurst. He was a friend of Robert’s. I do believe my brother introduced us as his one last desperate hope. Yet when Robert died and my dowry disappeared with him,” she rubbed her shoulders, trying to warm the sudden chill that took hold of her, “Brockenhurst’s proposal vanished with it. Proving his affection was far more bound to the money than to me.”
“Did you like him?” Alexander frowned, as though with suspicion.
“He was a decent man.”
“I
have met Mr. Brockenhurst a few times. He is too mild mannered for you. You need someone who will argue with you. He would merely run from you.”
“You argue with me,” she laughed, looking back to him.
“That is certainly a fun part of our relationship,” he laughed too. “Here, you are cold.” He stood to his feet and reached for a dressing gown. Long and patterned with deep russet triangles and circles, he handed it to her. “This will keep you warm.”
In Temptation and Damnation with the Earl: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 16
