And now she was trapped on a boat with two brothers who hated her. Surely she was dragging them all to London for more unhappiness. Hektor and Georgios were sure to hate stuffy English schools, and Zeus only knew what unholy torment her husband had planned upon her return. She was miserable, and she was dragging everyone down with her.
This had been an awful idea from its conception.
~~~***~~~
Why was every single house in Greece on a hill? It was a beautiful place and Christian had no trouble whatsoever in seeing why Thea had missed the islands so much, but none of these hills ever went down. Up, up, up. They should have hired one of the donkeys at the dock.
“Come on, Luce, don’t lag so far behind,” Christian called over his shoulder. Trudging seemed to be the only task his daughter did not do with boundless enthusiasm. “Not much further.”
Along the main road and turn at the church. Turn again at the big tree. Giant white house on the hill. The directions seemed simple enough even when given in halting English by a food vendor at the pier when asked for the Viscount’s house. The man didn’t know if the family was at home, but that was the only place Christian could think of to start.
The countryside itself was a rolling landscape, taupe and sage green, broken up by stunning flowering bushes and succulents which appeared as if by magic to flash dazzling color on the earth. Each time they reached the summit of a hill the view below was breathtaking. He’d never seen such brilliant blue. Cerulean blue. He’d heard of oceans of such clarity a man could see to the bottom, see every fish and plant, but he’d never experienced it himself.
When he and Lucy finally crested the hill, which was more like a mountain, the house came into view. A massive square structure squatted at the top, white washed walls in what Christian recognized as the Mediterranean style, but with a huge blue dome in the center. A bright pink vine scaled the archway into the garden and wound its way over the exterior, its long ropey tendrils holding fast to the block until it reached the tiled roof.
He imagined a warm summer evening lounging on the upper veranda, the sweet scent of the flowers mingling with the salty dampness of the ocean wafting over him on a soft breeze, the sun sinking into the bluest water. It was quiet like the English countryside, but that was the only thing about the place that reminded him of home at all. There was no traffic noise, no filthy soot cloud hanging over the city. Not even the countryside of his farm was as calming.
He might be in love with Greece.
“Pretty,” Lucy said when she caught up to him. “Is this her house?”
He looked at his daughter out of the corner of his eye. “No, I think it’s that one on the hill.” He pointed to a house some distance away atop a small mountain.
Lucy tossed her head back and whined. “That’s too far.” She threw herself on a boulder next to the road with great dramatic flair. “You go ahead. I’ll wait here.”
“I’m teasing. This is the one.”
Somehow she managed to drag herself to her feet with almost as much drama as before, grumbling the entire time and giving him a hateful glare. “I thought the donkey was precious. Why didn’t the man say how far it was? Can we stop here and rest?”
Christian tuned her out and took in the estate. A long drive led to the front of the house, the magnificent façade spanned wide across a manicured meadow just this side of tamed. Behind the manse, the meadow stretched onward towards the rolling hills on the right and the sea on the left. A herd of horses grazed.
A polite rap on the door brought no one. Christian knocked with more force. A house this big, where could all the servants be? He used his fist the third time and banged hard against the wood. “Hallo,” he called out. Christian peeked in the window and saw that the furniture was covered with sheets. Was the house closed? Where was Thea if her house was closed?
Lucy had found a bench and was lying on it with the crook of her elbow over her face. Christian rolled his eyes. He left her there and followed the driveway until it rounded the house. Once Christian was clear of the house he saw the meadow held a training ring and several paddocks. Along with the four horses he’d seen, there were also two foals. A man he hadn’t noticed before was out in the field with the horses.
“Ho, there,” he called as soon as he was in flagging distance. He waved his arm in a friendly manner. The man was dressed in workman’s clothes and had a cap pulled low over his forehead. He turned to fully face Christian as he tromped his way through the scrubby grass, but he did not return the salute. Perhaps he doesn’t speak English. “Good morning.”
The man nodded which still didn’t clarify whether he spoke English or not. He was unusually tall, over six-feet. Christian rarely encountered men as tall as he was.
He charged ahead. “Is this the home of Viscount Ashbrook?”
The man shook his head. Either he understood English or he simply preferred non-verbal communication.
“Hell.” If this wasn’t the house, maybe it really was the one on that further hill. He had no idea how he was going to convince Lucy to climb up there. Perhaps he could hire one of this fellow’s horses. “Can you give me directions to Ashbrook’s? Is it that the one?” Christian pointed to the far away shape.
“Ashbrook is dead. He doesn’t have a house anymore.” So English it was, spoken in an accent exactly like Thea’s.
“Was this his house then?”
Another nod.
Thank God. “I’m looking for Miss Ashbrook. Is she at home?”
The man’s lips pressed into a line even grimmer than before, if that was possible. “Why?”
Christian was tired and thirsty but maintained an affable smile. “She and I have business.”
He couldn’t be certain but it seemed as though the other man’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of business?”
“Private business.”
The man’s hands went to his hips. “Then I don’t know if she’s at home.”
“Is there someone else with whom I can inquire? A butler perhaps.”
“No.”
“No, there is no one else, or no, there isn’t a butler?” He inhaled through his nose in an effort to calm himself. Getting angry was not going to convince the taciturn man to help him and at this point there was no one else. “The house seems closed up, but I must speak with Miss Ashbrook. I’ve traveled very far and time is of the essence.”
“Who are you?”
“I am the Duke of Morewether of London, England, and you are?”
“What business do you have with Miss Ashbrook?”
Christian’s temper was running short. “Who are you?” he repeated and wiped the smile from his face.
They measured each other’s resolve for several tense moments, then finally the man spoke. “I am Alexios.”
“Do you work for Miss Ashbrook’s family?”
“No.” The man’s eyes definitely narrowed. “Now tell me what you want with Althea or I’ll have you removed from the property.”
Christian didn’t like the idea of this man referring to his wife with such familiarity. When did this conversation veer so far out of hand? All he wanted was to find his wife and instead he was dealing with a volatile Greek, and he was in no mood. “I’d like to see that since there’s no one here but you.”
Alexios removed his cap and shoved it in the back waistband of his trousers. He was a handsome man in a swarthy sense, very Mediterranean. He also looked remarkably like Christian’s wife, only his skin was darker from days in the sun. It was the eyes though, that gave him away. Any person with remarkable blue-gray eyes as striking as Thea’s would have to be related to her in some fashion.
Christian let his smile slide back in place and the frown melt away. “Ah, you must be one of her brothers.” Again he extended a hand this time as a peace offering.
His hand was ignored. “You have until I count to five to tell me who you are, sir.”
Christian understood overprotective brothers. He was one himself. He allowed h
is hand to drop back at his side. “I’m her husband.”
Alexios didn’t count to five before his heavy fist swung. Christian didn’t remember anything after the grass came up to meet his face.
Chapter Twenty-six
It turned out only the public rooms in the Viscount’s house were closed. The family rooms were well lived in, especially the old Viscount’s study where Christian was nursing a sore eye and a glass of whiskey.
“Is it turning color yet?” he asked his attacker.
Alexios quirked an eyebrow and gave a one shoulder shrug. “It’s red.”
“It’ll be black and blue before dinner.” Christian probed at the flesh and bone with gentle fingertips. The man had a mean cross. Christian had only been out for a second. He’d never lost consciousness before; not during the countless fights and scrapes he’d been in during his youth and not when he sparred for exercise at Gentlemen Jim’s. He’d had a reputation as one willing to tussle at the slightest provocation and that came with the guarantee that Christian never went down.
He only received a mute Greek glare in response. Alexios had extended a hand and yanked Christian off the ground when he’d come to. Then, he wordlessly made for the house. Christian followed not knowing what else to do with himself. The glass of liquor had been offered, and he’d collapsed on the leather sofa. They’d passed the last twenty minutes or so in relative silence. Christian contemplating the million questions he had for Thea’s brother, and he assumed the man had as many questions for him as well.
“Oh hell!” Christian leapt from the cushions and ran towards the front of the house. He wrenched open the front door. Thank heaven; she was still lying on the bench. “Lucy, you can come inside.”
Her eyes grew wide with excitement. “Oooh. Did you crack the house?”
“What? No. Just come inside.” What an imagination his child had. He blamed her mother.
“What happened to your eye?”
“Thea’s brother happened to it.”
“I missed all the excitement?” Lucy stamped her foot even as she followed him back to the study. “That always happens.”
As soon as they entered the study, Alexios stood from the chair behind the desk. Except for clouting brothers-in-law it seemed the Greek had good manners. Christian indicated Lucy. “This is my daughter, Miss Lucille …” And then he stumbled on her last name. If he was claiming her, she ought to have his name, oughtn’t she?
Lucy filled the silence. “Clarke.”
“No, Belling,” he amended.
Alexios reached for her hand. “Your father doesn’t know your name?”
“We just met.” Lucy informed him. “I’m a bastard too.”
“Lucy.” Christian exclaimed. He indicated she should take a seat and joined her.
“Trying to keep her a secret, eh?” Alexios gave him a look of disdain.
“No.”
“You still haven’t said what you’re doing here?” Alexios asked again.
“I’m here to fetch my wife.” Sort, simple and to the point. Alexios didn’t need any more information than that.
“She’s not here.”
“That is obvious. If you tell me where she is, we’ll be on our way.”
“She left yesterday with our younger brothers.”
Christian’s stomach filled with dread. “Left where?”
Alexios leaned back in the chair, a look of satisfaction replacing the animosity. “For London.”
Christian jumped to his feet. “Bloody hell. If you’re lying to me, I’ll —”
“You’ll what?” Alexios remained seated, his glass of whisky resting easily on the arm of the chair. “What are you hoping to accomplish here? I doubt that if Thea’d still been here, she’d have spoken to you anyway. She was fiercely angry at you.”
He paced the length of the room, stopping long enough to refill his glass. “Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.”
Lucy poured herself a cup of tea when the tray arrived. She added an eye-popping five sugars. “He was going to sing her a song I wrote.”
“Lucy, you’re not helping.” What would it take for his daughter to stop trying to fix his life?
“It was a good song, if I do say so. He would have sung it eventually.”
“Did you know there are horses out back? Right there in the field. Take the rest of that sugar out there and see the horses.” Christian pointed towards the door and gave her a look that bespoke his frustration.
“I’ll go,” Lucy said and scooped all the sugar into her pocket. “But only because I love horses.”
“God love her,” Christian said after she’d quit the room. He strode to the desk, placed his fists on the wood and leaned in. “What did Thea tell you?” He’d be damned if he’d be intimidated by a no-account weasel and his flimsy desk. He was the bloody Duke of Morewether, and he always got what he wanted. Usually. He had anyway, until the Greeks came into his life.
“She told me she got married. I was shocked. She wasn’t going to London to find a husband.”
Christian snorted. “So she said.”
“I don’t know what happened between you two. She was secretive about it. All I know is she was hurt like I’ve never seen her before.” Alexios took a long drink. “That makes me want to kill you.”
Christian returned the glare with a measured one of his own. “It’s not going to happen today.”
“Just let her go. You can go back to your old life of whoring and making bastards. Thea will get over you faster that way.”
“That’s never going to happen.” He sure as hell hadn’t sailed across the ocean and climbed Mount Olympus only to let her go. “I came here to explain myself to her and, by God, I’m going to do it.”
“What are you going to explain? Why did you drag that poor girl all the way over here? Thea didn’t know about your bastard when she married you did she? She never would have agreed had she known. How did you think you’d keep that secret?”
“Stop calling her my bastard. She’s my daughter.” Christian fought the urge to crawl over the desk and throttle the man. “Besides, I didn’t bring her, she stowed away on board. I only found her after we’d sailed.”
“How damn inconvenient.”
“Yes,” Christian paused. “And no.”
The child chattered incessantly. She was nosey and opinionated and maddening. And he loved her. Loved her enthusiasm, ready laugh and desire to help him in any way she was able. Somewhere around Sardinia it had come to him, not like the crack of thunder when he’d fallen for Thea, heavy and daring and powerful. Loving Lucy had sneaked up on him and folded around him like an envelope, encompassing him in the simplicity of it. Before he’d left, he’d vowed to claim her, but now he didn’t want to let Lucy go.
“That’s what it was, though? Wasn’t it? Thea found out about your ba — daughter
Christian ignored the question. “One day? I missed her by one day?”
“Did you know about her brothers when you kept, what was her name? Lucille? When you kept Lucille a secret? You had to know how she’d feel about that, don’t you? Or did you not care?” Alexios rose from the desk chair, once again meeting Christian eye for eye. Alexios leaned forward, his fists on the desk as well, matching Christian’s stance. “You didn’t care did you? You titled English thinking you’re better than everyone else.”
“I didn’t have any secrets.” Christian growled the words, anger raising his blood pressure. “And I did know how she felt. I helped her get her brothers into a good school.” She would have managed eventually, but his interference definitely paved the way much faster.
“How very … magnanimous of you.” Alexios inched closer.
Christian had no reply. Alexios was predisposed to despise him, and he had no doubt anything he did or said was going to change that.
Alexios’s eyes narrowed, and then he poked too hard. “So you did her a favor because you thought that would get you under her skirts. What then, she forced you to marry her?”
<
br /> White-hot fury lanced across Christian’s chest. He did fly over the desk that time. Fully intent on giving Alexios the beating he deserved, Christian was shocked when another hard punch to the stomach knocked the wind out of him, and he found himself on the floor, a booted foot on his chest.
“You leave my sister alone.” Alexios’s voice was hard and low with menace.
“I can’t,” Christian said. Shocked at being bested yet again, he heaved in a breath.
“Is it your pride? No one has to know what happened here. Go home and give her a wide berth. Based on what she’s told me, it’s what everyone will expect from a dog like you anyway. I swear to all the Gods, I’ll make your life miserable if you hurt her again.”
The pointed end of a fire poker appeared at Alexios’s throat. Christian couldn’t see her from his vantage point on the floor, but Lucy’s voice came from somewhere atop the desk. “Get off my papa.”
Alexios laughed then, but he took his foot off his chest. Christian rolled over and made it to his knees, then his feet. Lucy climbed down to meet him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
Christian kissed the top of her head. “I’ll never leave Thea alone.” He told Alexios. “I can’t. I’ll chase her to the end of the Earth.”
For a moment his brother-in-law looked defeated. “Why? Leave her be. She deserves better than the likes of you.”
“No doubt.” Being clobbered twice in one day by a man a good ten years younger than him was a sobering thing. Christian suddenly felt old and tired, more than his thirty-two pampered years should allow. “But she’s my wife, and I love her. I need her.” He glanced at the flaxen hair of his daughter. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’m working to make amends.”
Alexios stared at him long and hard, hands on his hips. Christian still struggling to catch his breath, bore the weight of his gaze patiently. Finally, Alexios looked away, his shoulders lower than before, his anger subdued. “Sit. Let me get a poultice for your eye.”
The Duke of Morewether’s Secret Page 21
