by Adele Clee
“Is there something you wish to discuss?” Evelyn asked, desperate to bring an end to the matter. Of course, she would need to explain her decision to her aunt, who had already expressed her approval of the match.
“You know me so well, Miss Bromwell, I believe you can read my thoughts. It’s such a comfort when one finds the person who is their match, their intellectual equal. A person who can make life’s journey all the more pleasurable.”
“I do not believe intelligence should be the deciding factor when it comes to matrimony, Mr. Sutherby. We must follow our heart, not our mind. It is the only way to be true to ourselves.” She pictured Alexander Cole’s handsome face, knowing that her soul sang only to his tune.
Mr. Sutherby gave a contemptuous snort. “The heart is a fickle thing, Miss Bromwell. It leaves us prone to indulge in fanciful notions, to dream of a grand passion and a blissful union.”
Evelyn had felt such a passion and would gladly indulge her heart if only given the chance. “I want all of those things. I am sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Sutherby, but I could not settle for anything less. If I must dream until I am in my dotage, then so be it.”
She felt the gentleman stiffen. There should be no need for him to offer for her now, not when she’d made her position perfectly clear.
As they approached a tall topiary hedge, Charlotte stopped to wait for them. “I hear Lady Westbury has spent a small fortune on an outdoor aviary. Indeed, I believe I can hear them chirping. Perhaps it is through here.”
With some reluctance, Evelyn allowed Mr. Sutherby to escort her through the narrow walkway believing the sooner they pandered to Charlotte’s whims the quicker they could return to the ballroom.
“I’m convinced it is down here,” Charlotte said, running along the gravel path before disappearing around the corner.
When they reached the bottom of the path, Charlotte was nowhere in sight.
“Where on earth has she got to?” Evelyn said. It was not wise for a lady to be lost in the dark on her own.
“Don’t worry about Charlotte,” Mr. Sutherby said. “She can’t be far away. She’ll find her way back to us.”
An uncomfortable sense of foreboding settled in Evelyn’s chest. “Perhaps we should head back the way we came,” she said moving to walk in front.
But Mr. Sutherby grabbed her by her wrist and swung her back around to face him. “Let’s try this way,” he said pulling her further along the path.
Evelyn tried to yank her arm free, but the gentleman was much stronger than she expected. “Mr. Sutherby. Will you please let go of my arm.”
“Don’t play the coy little miss. You have been teasing me from the moment we entered the garden, with all your dreams of a passionate union.” He stopped and pulled her to his chest. “Why wait until your dotage? I am more than happy to indulge you now.”
Alexander sauntered into the ballroom, aware of the whispers and odd glances as those who were absent from Lord Melbury’s soiree were informed of the latest gossip.
He had decided not to attend. The workings of his rational mind knew there was no hope of a union with Evelyn Bromwell. No lady would choose to live with a monster. A lady wanted marriage, children, and picnics in the park under the midday sun. She did not want to roam about in the darkness like an empty soul lost to the night. The curse thrust upon him would plague him for all eternity. And he would never be free to indulge in his passion for Evelyn Bromwell.
Yet still he’d come.
He could not deny the burning in his chest when she entered his thoughts. He could not stop his body responding from the mere sound of her voice. The raging passion that writhed inside him could not be tempered. For his own sanity, he had no choice but to follow his heart.
What did he have to lose?
“Hale. Over here.”
Alexander glanced around the outskirts of the packed ballroom. Elliot Markham was propped up against the wall, his arms folded across his chest as he raised his chin to beckon Alexander over.
“On your own tonight?” Alexander asked. “Or is Devlin busy taking advantage of a married lady’s generosity?”
“No. The idiot is dancing.” With his mouth forming a scowl, Elliot nodded to the dance floor. “Look at him, prancing about like the fool of the fair. Next, he’ll be waving bright ribbons and handing out trinkets.”
The corners of Alexander’s mouth twitched in amusement. “Why should that be a problem?”
“He is dancing with Cassandra Reed,” Elliot sighed, “Lady Westbury’s virgin niece. As soon as he saw her, his eyes swelled to the size of billiard balls. I’m surprised they’re not mopping up the floor from his excessive salivating.”
“I have some sympathy. Drooling is something I’m learning to live with.”
Elliot straightened. “Ah, you refer to the delightful Miss Bromwell. Am I the only brother who feels nauseous at the thought of bedding a virgin?”
“Judging by the lecherous smile on Devlin’s face, I’d say yes.”
Elliot stepped closer and whispered, “I swear, if he drinks from her I’ll rip his throat right out.”
Alexander jerked his head, surprised at Elliot’s volatile reaction. Although it felt good to talk so openly about something he’d considered so despicable. It almost made him feel human.
“You believe he would?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been left to clean up his mess.”
Alexander inhaled sharply. “Devlin’s killed someone?”
“No,” Elliot replied shaking his head. “Of course not. But let’s just say he likes the taste of virgin blood. He said it tastes clean, untainted, like drinking water from a mountain stream as opposed to the sludge found in the Thames. I think it’s all in his head. He’s convinced himself it’s the blood, but I believe he still dreams of his youth, of frolicking with debutantes in the hope of finding true love.”
Alexander’s thoughts flashed to Miss Bromwell, and he scoured the sea of heads in the hope of spotting her. Strangely, he had no desire to drink from her. What he felt for her went beyond the need for personal gratification.
“Your Miss Bromwell is taking a turn about the garden with her companions,” Elliot said with a smirk. “I assume that’s who you’re looking for.”
Alexander glanced at the terrace doors. “Is it so obvious?”
Elliot patted him on the back. “You forget, I can feel the passion emanating from you. You feel deeply for her, that much is obvious.”
“Regardless of my feelings, the situation is hopeless,” Alexander replied with a frustrated sigh.
“Which is why I chose an uncomplicated life, a life without any emotional attachment. It is unrealistic to hope that any woman would accept us for what we are.”
While he acknowledged the logic in Elliot’s words, his heart fought desperately against the possibility that Evelyn would turn away from him if she knew. “I used to believe that. To an extent, I still do. But I’ve come here tonight in the hope I’m wrong.”
“Then I wish you luck, my friend, as you’re going to need a barrow full of it.” Elliot nodded beyond Alexander’s shoulder. “Here comes your lady now.”
Alexander turned to see Charlotte Sutherby hurry through the terrace doors into the ballroom. He held his breath while he waited for a glimpse of Evelyn’s wide eyes and pretty pout, his heart beating erratically as excitement thrummed through his veins.
But Miss Sutherby was alone.
“You’re sure Miss Bromwell went out walking with that lady?” Alexander said tapping Elliot on the arm to focus his attention.
Elliot narrowed his gaze. “Yes. She went out with her and a fair-haired gentleman. They’ve probably just fallen behind.”
Alexander stood in frozen silence, each passing second feeling more like an hour. “I’m going out to find her.”
“Ah, you fear she’s interested in the other gentleman,” Elliot said with a chuckle.
“It is not a laughing matter. I do not trust Mr. Su
therby. There’s something shifty about him. He intends to make Miss Bromwell an offer of marriage. What if he refused to take no for an answer?”
“What if she said yes and you stumble upon a lovers tryst?”
Anger sprang forth, roused from its dark, dank lair. “Damn you,” Alexander whispered through gritted teeth resisting the urge to throttle someone, anyone. “Miss Bromwell will not accept him. Something is wrong. I sense it.”
Without another word, he turned on his heels and marched away, pushing through the crowd until he reached the terrace. One quick scan of the empty lawn confirmed his fear. Miss Bromwell must be in a secluded area of the garden.
Had she gone of her own volition?
Or did Sutherby have more sinister intentions in mind?
Chapter 14
Alexander charged out into the night, his mind too chaotic to pick up any lingering trace of Evelyn’s emotional imprint.
“Damnation,” Elliot shouted, skidding across the grass behind him. “Wait for me.”
“I don’t need you to come.”
“You’re in the mind for murder,” Elliot said keeping up with Alexander’s long strides. “Someone needs to be in control if we are to protect the secret of the brotherhood.”
“I don’t give a damn about the bloody brotherhood. If Sutherby hurts her in any —”
Alexander.
The word wrenched at his heart.
The silent plea forced him to come to an abrupt halt and survey his surroundings. There was no sign of anyone in the garden, but he felt a tug deep in his core drawing him to the tall hedge. The dark pathway beyond beckoned him to enter.
Elliot stopped at his side. “I heard it, too. It came from inside that topiary tunnel.”
As soon as Alexander crossed the entrance, fear enveloped him like a curtain of cobwebs, clinging to his chest and shoulders, his body jerking back in response.
“They’re definitely in here,” Elliot said, “I can hear voices, someone struggling.”
Alexander gulped a breath as he raced along the narrow walkway. The path branched both left and right. Instinctively, he felt compelled to take the route to the left.
“Get the hell off me! What’s wrong with you?”
Evelyn’s desperate curse ignited the anger simmering in his belly.
“Come now. You’ve been playing games with me for weeks,” Sutherby said.
Elliot gripped Alexander’s shoulder. “Don’t do anything foolish,” he whispered as they spotted Sutherby pinning Evelyn against the hedge.
“Get your bloody hands off her,” Alexander roared, tearing along the path.
As though chastising a disobedient pup, he grabbed Sutherby by the collar of his coat, thrust him high in the air before throwing him to the ground. With legs and arms flailing, Sutherby covered his head with his hands as Alexander yanked him back to his feet.
“Wait. Don’t hit me. It’s not what it seems. We are betrothed.”
Alexander froze, his clenched fist suspended in midair as his chest felt empty and hollow.
“We are not betrothed,” Evelyn said rushing to his side. “I’ve made it clear I do not want to marry him, but he will not accept it.”
“But your aunt has already approved the match,” Sutherby said. “She said you were in agreement.”
“Then she misled you.”
“But you said you had dreams of a grand passion and a blissful union.”
“I was not talking about you.”
Elliot gave a discreet cough.
“You mean you’re talking about him?” Sutherby’s gaze shot to Alexander, his twisted face showing his disdain. “Why, I should call the gentleman out for stealing another man’s betrothed.”
Evelyn gave an exasperated sigh. “How many times must I say it? We are not betrothed, Mr. Sutherby.”
“Call me out?” Alexander echoed gripping Sutherby by the lapels of his coat. “I could just save myself the bother.” His teeth began to ache, and he flexed his jaw. The dull throbbing would escalate until he’d pierced skin and drawn blood. “I could just throttle the life out of you here and now.”
Elliot muttered a curse. “It is just a simple misunderstanding,” he said, his tone revealing an element of panic. He placed his hand on Alexander’s arm, the grip firm, unyielding. “Let me escort Mr. Sutherby back to the ballroom. He’ll not trouble anyone again, and I’m sure Miss Bromwell does not wish to see such a violent display.”
Alexander glanced to his right; Evelyn’s eyes were wide, a little fearful.
“If you want to live to see dawn,” Alexander said releasing Sutherby, “I suggest you go with Lord Markham.”
“Then I’m taking Miss Bromwell with me,” Sutherby blurted as he craned his neck and straightened his coat.
A growl resonated from the back of Alexander’s throat. “Miss Bromwell is staying with me.”
“I don’t th-think that’s for you to decide,” Sutherby stuttered.
Elliot stepped in front of Alexander and took Mr. Sutherby’s arm. “I think you want to come with me. I think you want to return to the ballroom. We will return now.”
Mr. Sutherby’s eyes glazed over and without another word he complied with Markham’s request. As he stepped past Alexander, he said, “I think I should return to the ballroom, but it is not the end of the matter. I will not relinquish my claim so easily.”
“Your claim?” Evelyn cried. “I am no man’s property, sir, and you’ll do well to remember it.”
Alexander could feel his anger rising again.
“Not here,” Elliot whispered leaning closer. “Not now. I fear the gentleman may make a scene to force the lady’s hand. You must see Miss Bromwell home, and I will speak to her aunt. I’m convinced she’ll be happy to know you were here to intervene. Call on me later, as there is something we need to discuss.” He nodded his head to indicate he was referring to Mr. Sutherby.
“Very well. I shall call as soon as I’ve seen Miss Bromwell safely to her door.”
Alexander watched them walk away, aware that Evelyn hovered at his shoulder.
They were alone once again, and his body responded instantly. In his mind, he imagined pushing her up against the hedge, devouring her mouth, thrusting inside her sweet core as she wrapped her legs around him. The need to have her felt like a loud drum beating through his veins, the tempo increasing with every breath.
“I called you, and you came,” she said placing her hand on his arm. “How did you know where to find me?”
He could not turn to face her. He would not behave like a scoundrel and force himself on her as Sutherby had done.
“Lord Markham noticed you’d not returned to the ballroom. It was the only logical place to look,” he said, covering her hand and moving it to the crook of his arm. “Let me escort you home.”
“Are you angry with me?”
“No.”
“Tell me you don’t believe what Mr. Sutherby said. It’s utter nonsense. I have never agreed to a betrothal. I would never have kissed you had there been a prior arrangement.”
“I know.”
Why did she have to mention kissing? He was struggling to partake in even the simplest conversation.
They strode across the grass and out through the gate leading to the mews.
“It’s best we don’t go back to get your cape. Will you be warm enough if we walk?”
“What in these slippers? Can’t we just hail a hackney?”
He glanced down at her feet and shook his head. “I never ride in a closed carriage. I never ride in any form of carriage. Where do you live?”
“Duke Street. But we can access the garden from Great Ryder Street. It will be more discreet. I can show you the way. It’s not far.”
“I know the way, but I’ll take a detour along the quieter streets. Would you like my coat?”
“No, thank you. I’m perfectly fine. It’s quite warm tonight.”
They walked along in silence, the air about them still buzzing with
restrained desire. It felt uncomfortable. The muscles in his shoulders were stiff, tense. His heartbeat was so erratic he could feel it pumping in his throat.
“We must hurry,” he said quickening his pace, the need to protect her his only concern.
“Why don’t you ride in a carriage?” she asked, sounding a little breathless. Her fingers flexed over the muscle in his arm, sending a pulse of energy shooting down to his groin. “I assume an earl would have more than one.”
The question threw him off kilter. What the hell was he supposed to say? Stepping into the carriage in Bavaria was akin to stepping through the gateway to Hell.
“I experienced a rather horrendous event in a carriage. I prefer to avoid them for fear of being hounded by the memory.”
Her fingers dug into his arm. “Was it the accident you had a few years ago? Is it why people assumed you were disfigured?”
Fragments of distorted images flashed into his mind. “Do you mind if we talk about something else?”
He could feel her gaze searching his face, drifting down over his chest. “Why did you come to the ball tonight?”
Damnation. Why did she persist in asking awkward questions?
“You forgot your gloves. You threw them on the floor in the orangery, and I thought you might be in need of them.”
She laughed, the sound soft and enchanting. “Why must you always skirt around the truth? Are you afraid to be honest with me?”
He turned to meet her gaze, his stomach lurching at the sight of her bright eyes and warm smile. “What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you that all I can think about is kissing you? That I dream of covering your body with mine. That just being near you heals my damaged soul.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “Tell me what is in your heart, Alexander. I want to know everything.”
Everything? How could he tell her his darkest secret, his worst nightmare? She would never look at him in the same way again. Those pretty blue eyes would lose their lustrous quality, a black cloud of fear and loathing obscuring their brilliance.
“Is it not enough to know that I want you?”
