Alexander watched as Cleopatra pulled his dressing gown around her shoulders, trying to ward off the chill of the evening. He returned to his seat opposite her, marveling at the way she smiled at him.
“Thank you.”
She is brave.
This thought kept coming back to him. He had enjoyed hearing of her world and had admired the way she spoke of herself, revealing her secrets to him. He still had so many.
He breathed deeply, resting his elbow back on the windowsill.
Should I tell her?
“Do you wish your betrothal was still in place?” he asked instead, still keen to hear more of her secrets. Her face winced at the thought.
“That is a difficult question to answer.”
“How so?”
“Well,” she looked up to him, “had I married just after Robert’s death, my and John’s financial positions would have been secure. Yet Charles Brockenhurst was not the most interesting of men.”
Alexander laughed warmly at the statement. “He is rather a bore in my own opinion.”
“Yes, I suppose he is,” she giggled. “He was not one for spirited discussions or debates.”
“You would have been very bored as his wife.”
“Yet I have no doubt it would have been a comfortable marriage. Safe, secure–”
“Dull?” Alexander offered with a quirk of his eyebrow.
“Yes, it probably would have been very dull.”
The idea that the Cleopatra before him that he so compared to the formidable Egyptian Queen would have been married to such a man felt a crime to him.
No, she always deserved someone with more passion.
“So, I believe is your turn now.” She looked up to him with a smile.
“My turn?” He folded his arms and returned his gaze to her.
“Tell me something of your past. Of whom you were before I knew you.”
“You wish me to reveal more of my secrets?” He watched as her lips tilted into a new smile.
“Well, you now know all of mine. Do you have many more?”
“There are a few. Some I have never spoken of before.”
“Then I am intrigued.” She wrapped the dressing gown tighter around her body, drawing his eyes down to admire the hint of figure her nightgown offered. He tore his eyes away again, determined to behave.
“You must have known when you sold my story to the newspaper that I spent some of my childhood in a gaming hall?”
“Yes, I did. You are famous for such a childhood, notorious even,” she smiled with mischief. “I believe the Editor even mentioned it in his story in The Gazette.”
“That he did. Well, would you like to know how the son of an Earl ended up spending his childhood in a gaming hall?”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Would you tell me?” Cleopatra asked, feeling her breath heighten at the idea. No one knew what had happened to the Earl as a child. Though many queries had been splashed across the newspapers, it was common knowledge the Earl had not spoken of it.
“First I must extract a promise from you,” Alexander shifted uncomfortably and scratched the back of his neck. “You must promise not to speak of it. To anyone. Not to Allina, not to John. No one can know.”
“I give you my word.” She nodded, seeing there was still a sliver of doubt in his features. She did not blame him for it. Had she been in his shoes and experienced all that had passed between them, she would be just as distrustful. “I already revealed your secrets once. Now I know you, now I know of Allina,” she looked away from him, her thoughts taken by the young woman who was such an innocent. “I could not betray either of you in that way.”
Any harm against him would be indirect harm to the beautiful young woman with such a kind heart now sleeping in the west wing. Cleopatra could not do that to her. That is what she argued to herself, yet there was another certainty in her mind alongside this. She did not want to harm Alexander again.
“Thank you,” he smiled and dropped his hand, breathing deeply as he prepared himself to begin. “Unlike yourself, I was not so fortunate to have a happy relationship with my parents. It was perhaps a little more strained than your own.”
“Were they not loving parents?” Cleopatra frowned as she settled into her seat. The love between her and her own parents had been so natural, so overflowing with kindness, she could not imagine a different existence.
“My father was a kind enough man,” Alexander looked out of the window again to the garden. “He had all of this to run, the Earldom, after all. He was distant, shall we say.”
“That was not quite a yes to my question.”
“No, it was not.” Alexander moved in his seat again, clearly uncomfortable at the conversation. She could tell it would be his habit throughout this discussion. His discomfort for the words would be shown in his fidgeting. “That was not so much the problem, to be honest. Distant was something I could handle. It did not concern me. My Father and my Mother were not the happiest of couples.”
Cleopatra opened her mouth to speak but closed it again, uncertain of what to say.
“They argued daily. Their arguing, it was not like our arguments, Cleopatra.” He shook his head. “They had no passion, no liking for each other. The arguments they had were vile, violent, disgusting, and cruel. They greeted the sunrise with foul words just as they greeted the moon with the same sentiments.”
“Every day?” Cleopatra grappled with the idea. Her parents had borne so much love for one another.
“Every day. No child should have to witness what they said to each other. What they said, I will not share with you. Though some of it I can still recall.”
“That is a long time to remember an argument.”
“So it is, but I will never forget those words.” He raised his eyes to hers again. “In my tenth summer, I remember a particularly awful argument between them. My Father left the Manor afterward. My Sister was being doted on by Mrs. Webb and the staff, they kept her safe, she was still so young. Yet I did not know where my mother had gone.”
He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat.
“I wandered around the Manor, looking for her. When I found her,” he cleared his throat again. “Well, I wish I had never found her. I walked into the drawing room downstairs to see my mother having intimate relations with someone who was not my Father.”
Cleopatra’s mouth went dry at the idea. She looked between Alexander’s pained face and the garden, hoping for inspiration of something to say, but no idea came. In the end, she settled merely for shocking questions.
“She was adulterous? With another man? Who was the man?”
“It is not as simple as that.” Alexander kept his eyes on his hands that were now fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt. “My mother was not just with one man, but two.”
“Two?” Cleopatra repeated in a shocked whisper.
“Two servants,” Alexander nodded, shaking his head with clear animosity. “Fortunately, those servants are no longer a part of this staff. No child should see their mother in such an intimate position with anyone and believe me, I will not describe exactly what I saw, but trust me when I say it was scarring enough.” He adjusted in his seat yet again, moving his shirt around.
“Alexander–” she whispered, still trying to think of something to say.
“The shock of it was too much to handle, so…” he lifted his gaze to find hers, “I ran away from home.”
“You did?” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Proving perhaps there is a similarity between your brother and I, after all. Perhaps it is why I cannot be too angry at him for what is happening now. A lot has changed in his life recently and I would not blame the child for thinking I had stolen his sister away from him.” He rested his head back on the wall. “It seems both John and I run from our problems.”
“Where did you go?” Cleopatra’s thoughts were consumed by John again; her mind created horrid dreams of where he would spend the night – in the doorway
of a shop, in the street near a stable, maybe on the back of a cart, or near a brothel. She closed her eyes, warding off her dreadful imaginings.
“I wandered the streets at first. I became a practical beggar.” He winced at a memory. “I recall eating food off the floor. Any fine clothes I had on my person were quickly stolen, until I was wandering around just a boy in shirt and trousers. I even lost my shoes.”
“Your shoes? What happened to them?”
“I think I swapped them for a loaf of bread.”
“Always a businessman, even then,” she teased, thankful when he betrayed the smallest of smiles at her jest.
“I ended up in one of the worst parts of London. The area known for gaming halls. There the owner of one of the halls found me.” He looked out of the window again, his gaze almost staring at the memory rather than the garden. “His name was Marcus Brooks. Now, I know you have no liking for a gaming hall or their proprietors but believe me in this.”
He held her gaze, urging her to believe him. “He was the very best of men.” She smiled at the assertion. “He was the owner of the Seven Sins.”
“Is that not the gaming hall opposite you?” Cleopatra’s mind shot to the gaming hall on the same street as Alexander’s own.
She had heard much of it in her research of him. Even at night, when she had watched Alexander’s own gaming hall, she had seen the clientele come and go from the Seven Sins across the road. Judging by the women, dressed in little more than nightgowns that wandered up and down the front steps, it was clear to see what kind of an establishment it was.
“That it is. It is owned by his son now,” Alexander fidgeted again. “Marcus Brooks took me under his wing and showed me how to survive. He raised me as though I was his own.”
He folded his arms, trying to call a halt to his constant fidgeting. “I was raised alongside his son, Demian Brooks. Together we learned the trade of the gaming hall and I did my duty by Marcus. I worked hard for him and was paid accordingly.”
“You never desired to return home?” Cleopatra frowned, finding such a possibility hard to believe.
“Part of me did, of course,” Alexander nodded. “As I grew up, I wanted to know what had happened to Allina, how she was. When I left, of course, she was so young that no one had known of her condition. That was a matter for much later. I wanted to know of my Father too when I was gone. Yet if the truth is to be told, then I will confess I had little wish to see my Mother again. I was too young to be able to cope with what I saw her do.”
He breathed deeply, collecting himself. “A few years ago, when I was twenty, the Seven Sins was doing a good trade. I was planning to follow Marcus into the trade if I could ever save up enough money to open my own hall. He loved the idea.” He smiled at the memory. “He said if I worked hard, then one day, I would have a gaming hall to be proud of.
“That year a man walked into the Seven Sins with the express purpose of finding me. He was what you call a private investigator. It turns out my Father had hired him. He was the latest in a long line of other investigators my Father had tried.”
“He never gave up searching for you?” Cleopatra found comfort in that idea and wrapped the dressing gown tighter around her arms.
“Exactly.” Alexander pulled the bottom of the dressing gown, covering her exposed legs to block out the chill. The care with which he had done the action made her smile more. “My Father was ill, dying. My Mother had died some years before, so the investigator begged me to return. I was the heir to all of this, and he said I had a duty to it.” He gestured to the Manor around him.
“So, you returned?”
“There was a part of me was reluctant to go.” He rearranged the bottom of the dressing gown again, ensuring her feet were covered. “But with my Mother gone, there seemed little reason to avoid it. Marcus was also keen for me to return. He said I had been born with a blessing that I had to take it with both hands.
“I agreed to go, but I promised Marcus that one day I would return and open a gaming hall just as he did. That I would create such a place of fun and laughter again,” he laughed at the thought. “He liked that a lot. There are plenty of halls out there with sullied reputations. At the time, the Seven Sins was the only one with a good reputation.”
“That is no longer the case.”
“No, Demian does not keep business as his father would have wished,” Alexander winced at his own words. “I do not quite know why. We were raised together, after all, I always thought he held the same principles as his father.
“Anyway, after my Father’s death, I was determined to protect Allina in any way I could. I took on the Earldom and shielded her, but, of course, I grew bored. It was only natural. So, with some of the money my Father left me, I bought a house on the same street as the Seven Sins and opened the Wicked Souls.”
“Marcus was happy, I take it?” Cleopatra smiled, seeing the genuine pride in Alexander’s features.
“He was overjoyed.” The happiness he bore in his own countenance disappeared. “He died not long after. That was when the Seven Sins went downhill. Demian endorses prostitution, loan sharking, any bad aspect of the gaming hall you can imagine he appears to hold at the Seven Sins. The Wicked Souls will never be that.”
“You talk of the Wicked Souls with such pride, it almost makes me change my mind about gaming halls,” Cleopatra teased, pleased to see a smile leap to his cheeks.
“I will persuade you yet, trust me.” He unfolded his arms, allowing his hands to rest on his thighs. “That is how I came to be where I am. The whole sorry tale.”
A silence fell between them as Cleopatra battled for words.
“I suppose saying I am sorry for what happened to you does not amount to much?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Only a little but thank you.” He moved the dressing gown around her ankles again. “I have never spoken to anyone of what I saw that day I left this Manor.” He looked to the room around him. “Not even Marcus.”
“Then thank you for sharing it with me.” She smiled as he returned his eyes to her. Together they shared that smile, holding it for a minute longer. “You should never have had to see what she did.”
“No, I should not.” He looked away again. “But what has passed, has passed. We should look ahead. That is what Marcus always used to say.”
“That is a good philosophy for life.”
“Yes, a very good philosophy indeed.”
Silence fell between them again. Their legs were resting against each other, creating an intimacy in the quiet. Cleopatra had not noticed when their legs drew together, but now she was aware of it, she could not bring her gaze away from where their legs met.
Alexander sat perfectly still in front of her. The only sound between them was his breathing.
“Thank you,” he murmured through the quiet.
“For what?”
“For saying I can trust you with my secret. Your trust, well…it means a lot.”
“You will always have it.” She kept her eyes on where their legs met.
Quiet fell between them again and for many minutes she listened to his breathing, hearing the rhythm of it through the air.
“I should return to my chamber,” she broke the silence and stood to her feet. The touch of their legs parted, leaving a cold spot against her thigh and calf. Part of her wished to return to the seat, to resume their position. Alexander followed her to stand a moment later. “If we are to sleep tonight and renew our search tomorrow for John, we should both attempt at least a little sleep.”
“Yes, you are right.” He stood beside her, perfectly still though she could feel the air of discomfort coming from him. She wanted to remove it from him, but she could not do anything without knowing the cause.
I should return to sleep. I need my energy to search for John when morning comes.
She searched for some parting words, something that would mean as much as all the secrets that had just passed between them, yet she found none.
“Here,” she removed the dressing gown Alexander had given her from her shoulders and passed it back to him. He took it with both hands; his eyes still silver in the gleam of the moonlight that came from the window beside them.
For a moment, she was enthralled by those eyes again. Too busy admiring their color and the softness with which he looked at her to move away from him very quickly.
“I should go,” she said to herself as much as to him. She lowered her head, dismissing the spell he had cast over her. She turned and walked a few steps away, determined to leave the room when a gentle hand caught the back of her nightgown.
She hovered, perfectly still for a moment, waiting to see what the hand would do.
In Temptation and Damnation with the Earl: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 17
