Gideon had him in two steps, gripping the front of his shirt and jerking him forward. She almost felt sorry for the lad. “Your friend disappeared; he’ll never be seen again. You want the same fate for yourself?”
Disappeared? Elizabeth stiffened, her mind roiling. What had happened? She rubbed her aching temples. The worry was inescapable, constantly hovering around her. Would it ever ease?
“Ain’t going to scare me,” the man seethed.
She was so tired of it all—the tension, the anger, the violence. Gideon released his hold and sent the man stumbling back.
“Take him to the back of the house. Bring the instruments we used on his friend.”
Elizabeth slumped onto the staircase railing, her legs giving out as a cold sweat broke across her body. She’d heard stories of torture in the rookeries. Surely Gideon couldn’t do something so horrible. But when she looked at the coldness of his face, she wondered if she really knew him at all.
“Don’t worry,” Will whispered, apparently noticing her unease. “The last man squealed before we even touched him.”
“Gideon,” she whispered, just as they all started toward the back of the house. The maids disappeared, the fun gone.
“What?” Gideon snapped, giving her a dispassionate glance, as if he just couldn’t be bothered with her. After all, he had torturing to do.
She straightened her spine, steeling her resolve. Someone had to be rational here, and she supposed that once again it would have to be her. “What will you do to him?”
“Whatever it takes to get the answers we need.” He started toward the back of the house. Who was this man? It wasn’t the Gideon she knew. She didn’t need answers, damn him. She needed her husband. The kind, caring man she’d briefly known.
She rushed around the stairs. “Gideon, don’t.”
He paused, his back to her.
Don’t become your father, she wanted to say to him, but she didn’t dare. Don’t become that cold, soulless person the world had tried to make him. “Think of the baby,” was all she could manage to say.
He sent her a glare over his shoulder. “Do not make me feel guilty. You knew what you were marrying. A monster, a murderer. A whore. This is me, Elizabeth,” Gideon growled. “If you can’t handle it, then maybe we don’t belong together.”
He turned and strolled out of the house.
She should have been utterly devastated, at the least offended. Instead, only heated anger burned through her pulsing veins.
“Congratulations, Gideon,” she muttered, watching the insufferable man leave. “You could have a wonderful life but you’re doing your utmost to push away the people who love you.”
She saw his shoulders stiffen and his steps falter. Had he heard her?
“That’s right, you bloody bastard! I love you!” she cried out, her voice echoing through the foyer. She didn’t care who heard her. “Does that mean anything to you?”
He didn’t respond, merely continued down the hall, taking her heart and hope with him.
Chapter 19
Alex Weston had never thought to step foot in Lady Lavender’s estate again. Merely seeing the golden façade brought back too many painful memories he had no wish to dwell upon. It would have been easy, so very easy to never think about this place. And he had slowly been letting go of the past, forgetting his time here, praying one morning he would wake and not assume he was still entrapped. Apparently, it wasn’t so easy to outrun your past. He took in a deep breath and briefly closed his eyes, thinking back to two days ago.
“Papa,” Hope’s sweet voice whispered through his memory. “Swim!”
He’d scooped her up and taken her to the beach for their morning dip in the cold waves. How she loved to jump in the water, and although she was barely two, she was swimming like a little fish. He couldn’t imagine his life without her.
Without Grace.
They’d just stepped into the chilly water when his wife had appeared. He’d thought she was going to join them, until he’d gotten a look at her drawn face.
“What is it?”
Grace had looked more than nervous, uneasy. “There’s someone here asking about you.”
He’d known eventually his past would arrive, bells ringing. Still, he’d been irate. Angry that this Mr. Smith had appeared, forcing him to dredge up memories he’d wanted to forget, invading his perfect life with his harsh reality. But he owed Gideon. They’d been planning to escape Lady Lavender’s, and Alex had left him behind. The guilt had eaten at him for two years now.
“Are you well?” Mr. Smith asked from across the hired coach.
“I’m fine,” he replied through gritted teeth, staring at the cracked leather seat across from him, an indecipherable stain next to Mr. Smith. He didn’t look out the windows at the lavender he could smell growing in the fields. The memories were only made worse by the scent. His stomach roiled.
The thought that Hope might one day uncover the truth about his life left him feeling ill and ashamed. And if he hadn’t felt so guilty about leaving James and Gideon behind, he probably wouldn’t have ever been in contact with them again. After all, he didn’t need the reminder of what he’d done; it would be with him forever. Damn his letters. Why had he sent them? Grace said his past wasn’t his fault, and rationally he knew she was right. But at night, when the dreams came, it was harder to believe.
“We’ve arrived,” Mr. Smith said from across the carriage. The man had been watching him warily ever since they’d left the train station, as if he expected Alex to change his mind and flee. And he’d certainly thought about it. After all, why tempt fate when his life was going so perfectly?
The man had shown up on his cottage doorstep, interrupting his docile life. When he’d started questioning him about Lady Lavender, Alex had known it would never be over until he accepted his past as a part of who he had been. Only then could he move forward.
Gideon needed him now. His guilt, combined with Mr. Smith’s insistence, had broken his resolve. As Grace had said, Lady Lavender held no power over him anymore. She was merely a pathetic, sad woman dwelling on revenge.
The carriage stopped and with it, Alex’s heart for a brief moment. Before he could fully prepare himself, the door opened. Mr. Smith stepped out first, as if he knew Alex would need a moment. But there was no need to avoid the inevitable. Alex took in a deep breath and left the carriage, moving directly into the past. It was exactly as he remembered over two years ago.
Hardly anything had changed, from the potted lavender to the crushed gravel drive and the gas lamps flickering alongside the doors. Only he had moved on. But if he had anything to say about it, Gideon would soon be free as well. If only James would see reason. Slowly, he turned and gazed upon the fields of lavender, glowing under the setting sun. How many years had he stared out upon those fields hoping for more? It didn’t feel quite real anymore, or maybe Grace was right and this place, this woman, this memory, no longer held power over him.
“Ready?” Mr. Smith inquired.
“Ready.” Alex moved up the shallow steps and pulled the bell cord.
Mr. Smith paused next to him. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the man. He was quiet, reserved, secretive. But of one thing Alex was sure, he cared about this Mrs. Ashton, whoever she was. He also seemed to think that Gideon cared about her as well, which Alex found rather hard to believe. The Gideon he knew cared about very few. Yet, this Mr. Smith had implied that they would actually marry. That was one marriage he’d love to see take place.
The soft fall of footsteps caught Alex’s attention. He wasn’t surprised to see Wavers, Lady Lavender’s huge henchman, when the door swung wide. The man stood there looking as large and dour as ever. Anger and amusement surged through Alex. He’d felt the beast’s fist more than once. But the flash of surprise and yes, even slight wariness, in Wavers’s gaze was definitely amusing. Then again, the last time they’d seen each other, Jensen, Wavers’s friend and cohort, had been shot.
“
Wavers, my good man,” Alex couldn’t help but taunt. “How are you? Been a long time. How is Jensen?”
The man narrowed his beady eyes and growled.
“We’re here to see Lady Lavender,” Alex commanded. “Do be a good lad and call for her. It’s important.”
For one long moment he didn’t reply. Finally, the man grunted and stepped aside, allowing them entrance. Mr. Smith didn’t hesitate but swept inside like he owned the place, no fear in his steady gaze. Alex followed a little more slowly, hesitantly. As much as he tried to prevent it, the moment his feet hit the marble floor, a cloak of darkness swept over him.
“Wait here,” Wavers said in his thick accent.
Alex glanced around the area. Although his cottage seemed minuscule compared to this place, the mansion felt smaller than he’d remembered. Slowly, Alex turned, taking in the new details. She’d had it redecorated slightly. But the very air was still peppered with desperation and loneliness. And that’s what it was…the men who worked here were usually desperate for some reason. The women were usually lonely. He realized with a start that this estate no longer held any appeal.
“Good God, Alex.”
Surprised to hear the familiar voice, Alex turned toward the parlor. “James.”
Still lean, still smiling, James looked exactly the same. He was one thing that hadn’t changed. There’d been a time when he’d been frustrated at his naïveté. But now, he only felt compassion for the man who trusted Lady Lavender to the point of blindness. He’d tried to talk James into leaving, but the idiot would not believe the woman wished them ill. He’d assumed for years that the three of them were connected in some way. He knew now that he and Gideon were, but how did James fit into their past?
James moved forward, slapping him on the shoulder. “Alex, it’s wonderful to see you.”
Perhaps he’d been wrong all along about James. Maybe they weren’t connected. Lady Lavender had always seemed to favor James. Maybe his being here was merely coincidence, ill luck, fate. “And it’s good to see you as well.” And it was.
“How are Grace and Hope? I do so look forward to your letters.”
His words only made him sad for some reason. Perhaps because he knew that while here, James would never have the family he deserved. “Well. They’re both well.”
Lady Lavender’s office door opened, and quite suddenly there she stood. The entire world disappeared, the earth stood still. At one time, long, long ago he’d thought her the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. But that had been when he was a child and had not known true beauty. It was not golden hair and lavender eyes. It was warmth and hope and kindness. It was brown hair that glowed auburn in the sunlight, and hazel eyes that sparkled with love and laughter.
“It was good seeing you, James.”
The man nodded. He was curious but knew better than to ask questions. With a quick bow, he turned and headed toward the stairs. Alex resisted the urge to call out to the man who had been his friend and beg him to leave with him. He knew it would be useless. Instead, he focused on the woman who had destroyed his childhood. He felt nothing. Not even anger. Grace had been right; she was not worth their hatred. No, instead he saw only a woman embittered by life. A woman who blamed others for her problems. She still dwelled within her self-pity.
“Well, it’s certainly surprising to see you here.” She gave him a smirk, although her eyes remained cold and hard. She was putting on a play, she always had. Sometime long ago, she’d invented the character she now hid behind. “Do come in.”
His instincts flared, his senses on alert, but Alex did not worry the woman would come after him; she’d have too much to lose. Still, with one quick glance, he took in Wavers standing by the fireplace, the open windows facing the east, and the pearl-handled pistol lying upon her desk. Lady Lavender shut the door and with a swoosh of plum-colored skirts, moved toward her desk. Alex took the chair across from her, hoping Mr. Smith, who stood by the closed door, knew enough to watch his back.
She folded her hands demurely upon her desk, close enough to the pistol that she could grab it if need be. So, she wasn’t immune to him after all. “Whatever can I assist you with?”
A cool breeze swept into the room, the air smelling of lavender. He thought he’d escaped the scent. “You can release him, Ophelia.”
She quirked a blonde brow and leaned back in her chair, all ease. She had the upper hand and craved the power. Yes, she’d make him suffer. “Whoever are you speaking of?”
“No games,” Alex snapped. “You know. Release Gideon. He deserves it.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Down to business? Let’s chat first.”
Damn her to hell. He didn’t want to chat but knew he needed to play her game. “Very well.”
“How is your lovely wife? Your adorable daughter?”
Alex stiffened, his heart slamming erratically.
“I see I’ve shocked you.” She stood and moved to the sideboard, pouring a glass of sherry. She’d changed. Her gait was stiff, small creases at the corners of her eyes. In the two years since he’d been gone, the woman had actually aged. “I must read everyone’s letters for safety.” She took a sip. “You didn’t think they would actually receive their missives in secret?”
Of course he’d assumed she would read them, which is why he hadn’t put in anything too personal. Still, the thought of her knowing any details of his family life made him ill. Alex didn’t respond. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.
“Oh, Alex.” She shook her head, laughing again. “You were always so very trusting, and I see you haven’t changed.”
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Mr. Smith shift. Alex knew the man was worried Lady Lavender would spur him into reacting. But Alex wouldn’t attack the bitch. No, by reacting he only gave her control, showed her he cared. He leaned back and crossed his leg over his knee. He could pretend ease as well as her.
“I’m well aware of why you despise me, but why Gideon?”
She smirked, as if knowing the game he played, but there, deep within her eyes, he swore he could see wariness. Had he hit on a nerve?
“Despise you?” She released a wry laugh as she settled behind her desk. “Why, whatever do you mean?”
So she’d play coy? But he had too much heart to blurt out the truth. “Mr. Smith, Wavers,” Alex snapped out. “Leave us.”
Both men hesitated.
Lady Lavender waved her hands dismissively through the air, as if bored. “Oh, do go on, I’ll be quite well alone with Alex. Why, we’re old friends, you know.”
Mr. Smith moved reluctantly into the hall, followed by Wavers, who shut the door behind him. Alone, she did not drop her façade but continued to smile at him like some painted porcelain doll.
“I’ve had two years to think about your past and our connection.” Alex stood and strolled to the windows, gazing out onto the quickly sinking sun. He’d wanted to be home as soon as possible, but it wouldn’t be tonight. Damn, but he missed his family already. He felt tainted being here, as if he’d need to bathe three times, at the least. Nothing would cleanse his soul like Grace’s kiss. Her smile. Her touch.
“You said that my father helped cover the crime.” He turned to face her. “But who actually raped you, Ophelia?”
Her smile turned brittle.
Yes, he’d definitely upset her. One would have assumed he’d find pleasure in bringing her down, but he found no satisfaction in seeing her suffer. “I wasn’t sure, although I had my suspicions. Until Mr. Smith arrived claiming that Gideon’s father was actually titled.”
“Do go on, this is all quite amusing.”
If she hadn’t tried to kill Grace, he might have felt sorry for her. She took another dainty sip, watching him over the rim of her glass. Yes, she smiled, but she could no longer uphold the façade. Her eyes had turned hard as granite.
“Gideon’s father raped you, didn’t he?”
“Well done, Alex. You are quite the Bow Street runner.” Sh
e set her glass upon her desk and stood. “Yes, it was the man, and I’ve done the world a favor by keeping Gideon here. He is and has always been a cad. A rake. A demon, just like his father. Gideon’s sire was a horrible man, and society did not mourn his death.”
“Gideon isn’t his father.”
“Really?” She moved around the desk and strolled across the room, her footfalls muffled by the expensive, thick carpet. “He killed the man, you know. So very Hamlet of him.”
Dear God, Gideon had killed his own father? That’s why Lady Lavender had been able to manipulate him into working for her. He must have had good reason. Had he been protecting himself? “And I’m sure you threatened to tell the constable if he didn’t work for you.”
“It was all so very easy!” She paced to the fireplace and trailed her fingers over the mantel. “You know his sister killed herself?” She clucked her tongue. “One wonders why. What would drive a young, pretty girl to do such a thing?”
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. So much pain in the man’s life, and Alex hadn’t a clue. He felt suddenly guilty as hell, but what else was new? “What are you implying?”
“That I wasn’t the only one whom Gideon’s father hurt.”
The cold, hard Gideon he knew suddenly made sense. His secrets. The way he shunned society, refusing to grow close to anyone. They’d had so much more in common than even he’d realized. Alex certainly knew what it felt like to be ashamed of one’s own father. “I find it hard to believe Gideon would attack and kill his own sire without reason.”
“Of course.” She shrugged as if unconcerned. “They say he was protecting his mother.”
So, then he’d been right. “Gideon is not the same man as his father, just as I am not my father.”
She paused at the windows near him and gazed outside. “Oh, Alex, but he is. You saw the way he treated the women here.”
Frustration set him on edge. “He did what they wanted! What you paid him to do.”
She faced him, glee in her eyes. She was enjoying this. “He’s a bad, bad seed, Alex.”
Lori Brighton - [The Seduction 02] Page 26
