“Miss, truly I am. There has been a mistake.”
Alex thought he was surprisingly calm, for one who had been caught in the act. “We will let the authorities sort that out, sir. Kindly do not move.”
“Alex,” Joshua called behind her. “Alex, put that away.”
“Joshua, this man claims he is Lord Heatherly. Will you please dispose of him?” she requested, confident in his skills.
Joshua came behind her and slid the pistol from her trigger-ready grip. “Alex.” He lowered the gun. “This is the man I wanted you to meet. This is Lord Heatherly.”
Alex shook her head, but he confirmed.
“The other was the imposter. I stayed in London to check it out.”
“Why did you not tell me?”
“I intended to.”
“Why not this morning?”
“You had other things on your mind,” he argued.
Alex turned around slowly, the full horror of the situation sinking in as she took in Emma’s white face, along with the Earl of Stonewood’s very stony face as he joined them. “Oh, no.” Several other guests surrounded them, curious. “I thought Emma was in danger,” she pleaded to the earl, knowing his was the only opinion that mattered in that moment.
“If I’m not mistaken, you nearly knocked Lady Wimbleton to her death, leapt ungainly from the staircase, exposed all my guests to your underskirts, and now threaten a peer of the realm.”
Emma gasped in what Alex made out to be unspeakable shock at the quick summary of her recent antics. “Alex. No.” She seemed to beg for a denial.
Alex winced sorrowfully and watched as the real Lord Heatherly helped her friend to sit.
“As for the underskirt,” Colin offered, “it was by no means an entirely terrible vision.”
Emma, Joshua, and Marcus turned to him appalled.
“Not helping, Colin.” The earl’s voice was tight with disapproval.
“I’m just pointing out that no real harm has been done. Lord Heatherly is aware that Miss Stafford was tricked by an imposter posing as him.”
“And you all brought this into my home. Unthinking? On this occasion?”
Alex did not think the heat of her skin could get any hotter. “My lord, I am so sorry.” She stepped toward her friend, who held a hand up for space. “Emma, I am so sorry.”
“I know,” Emma breathed out, soft and cheerless.
As if matters could not get worse, Aunt Maggie and Stephen joined them with more news. “Alex,” Stephen spoke urgently. “We have to go.”
Alex nodded. It seemed like the best idea.
He added, “There was a robbery at Aunt Maggie’s. Some injuries.”
Alex was torn, but Emma just said, “Go.”
Alex looked to Lady Matilda for assistance. The elder woman nodded to confirm that she would stay with Emma—relieved no doubt to have Alex far away. Lord Merriton, Lord Heatherly, and Joshua would escort them to her aunt’s home and investigate the situation. Rather than reenter the ballroom, the small party skirted Stonewood Manor and disappeared into the night.
Her aunt leaned toward her. “I hope you have a good explanation for tonight, Alex dear. And a tight dress preventing blood flow to your brain, thus hindering good judgment, is not going to be sufficient.”
Disgraced, Alex thought. Completely and perfectly disgraced. And entirely her fault.
It was nearly dawn when the authorities left and the servants were put at ease. Maggie’s butler, Kendall, had a lump on his head the size of a plum, but the doctor thought he would survive.
Alex’s study area and the library had been torn apart, as had her bedroom. The intruders didn’t find the map, though Alex guessed they had walked over it a dozen times in the study, never noticing. Even now, her friends did not think it amiss in the room. The astrolabe she had hidden in the secret bottom of a heavy statue. She secured it around her neck with relief.
The intruders had found her journal, though. It contained all the secrets her family had tried to protect regarding her connection to the prophecy. At least the ones she knew, including her connection to Prince Kelile and every symbol on the map that she had diligently researched. There had also been a number of private entries recalling dreams and some personal notes regarding the duke. The humiliation of having that read by strangers was nothing short of unbearable, though in truth the least of her worries.
Alex changed and joined Joshua, Lord Merriton, Lord Heatherly, and her brother. A servant brought breakfast, tea, and coffee for everyone. Joshua gave her an expectant look. If he thought she was going to share her losses and worries with him, he was mistaken. Tonight had shown her reality as it really was. She would never fit into this world. And certainly not into his life.
“Thank you, gentlemen, for your assistance with the magistrate. My aunt is in bed, but also sends her deepest thanks.”
“You have your necklace?” Joshua asked.
“Yes.” She gave no other response than to touch her medallion.
Lord Heatherly wandered the study where they gathered, collecting and stacking books left in disarray by the intruders. He was young, wiry framed, and not unattractive. She’d had no time to observe him earlier, when she’d been focused on blowing his head off. Not that she would have, but now that she had a moment to study him more clearly, she noted eyes that calculated and observed so as not to miss anything, matched with a manner that was meant to put one at ease, as if nothing were amiss. A dangerous combination.
He thumbed through a book. “Does your aunt have children?”
“No,” Alex replied. “Why?”
“No reason.” Heatherly answered in a way that told her there was definitely a reason. He handed her the thick volume. “This one. A rare piece. Your thieves were remiss in not taking it, if in fact they were searching for a bit of history.”
“Creation Myths?”
He nodded. “Do you know the story of Lilith?”
“A little. I came across her in some reading.” Alex didn’t mention it was research on mermaids.
“Who is she?” Merriton asked.
“Some believe the first wife of Adam,” Heatherly explained. “One of the oldest myths in civilization. She is often represented as a beautiful woman waist up, and a serpent waist down. A bit mermaidlike. Some call her the first siren. Enticing men to abandon themselves to become something new. To rebel against their spiritual nature, and embrace their physical nature. Some say she became the bride of Satan, abandoning Adam in favor of equality.”
“Why are you sharing this, Lord Heatherly?”
“Sorry, Miss Stafford. I thought it obvious.”
He had the attention of everyone in on the room. “That necklace you wear. Not so old in comparison to the beginning of time, but an antique, 200 to 400 B.C. perhaps. The symbol on it, as you must have noticed, matches the symbol on your carpet, which I note is fairly new by comparison.”
Everyone looked at the carpet. Everyone but Alex. She knew he didn’t mean her aunt’s carpet, but the smaller one by the desk, under her chair. She didn’t say anything, uncertain as to the trustworthiness of the man. She covered her astrolabe with her hand, as if to protect it from him.
“That symbol on your astrolabe, Miss Stafford, is the ancient symbol for Lilith.”
Alex went cold. “What does it mean?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Nothing. Many people worship ancient gods. A follower of Lilith could have made that astrolabe, invoking her protection perhaps over their travels.”
Stephen was confused, as Alex knew he had a right to be. “But Alex has had that necklace since birth.” He turned to his sister. “What is this carpet?”
Alex went to the desk and brought out the carpet for them to view.
“Alex, you had it in plain site?” Joshua looked at her as though she was insane.
“And it has proven to be the safest place.”
“When did you get this?” Stephen asked.
“A while ago,” she
temporized, unwilling to share the truth just yet, and risk her brother’s trust and affection. “Lord Heatherly, would you know any more about Lilith, and could you tell me why anyone would be obsessed with collecting relics and information relating to her?”
Heatherly bent to the tapestry, examining. “This is an interpretation of the myth in some way. I’m not sure what all the symbols mean.” He looked up. “At one point, Lilith came back to Adam and had an affair. She begot two daughters and shared her part of the earth equally between them.”
“Only one sister was not satisfied,” Alex said, recalling Paxton’s tale.
“Yes. She waged war, conquering all in her path, collecting treasure and power until her realm was stronger than her sister’s—but still her sister would not fall. Determined, the evil sister—if we can call her that—cried out to Lilith’s husband during a great battle, and begged his assistance.”
“She called upon Satan?” Alex asked.
“Well, if indeed, all that is true, Miss Stafford. It’s really just a morality tale.”
She nodded. “Please continue.”
“The dark one aided her—in exchange for her first child. She agreed, conquered her sister, enjoyed a short reign of power, peace, and prosperity, then made the mistake of falling in love.”
“Mistake?” Alex’s stomach turned.
“She had a child, Miss Stafford. A beautiful child who was gifted in every way.”
“But she had to give it back.”
“Exactly,” Heatherly continued. “The queen begged a reprieve, offering all the treasures she had attained, but it was not to be.”
Alex added, “So she took another woman’s child and sacrificed it instead.”
“Not just any woman, Miss Stafford. Her sister’s child.”
“Her sister’s? She destroyed her sister’s realm and her child?”
He nodded. “When the child was sacrificed, its mother died of heartache, causing Lilith to return from her days of untamed promiscuity to see what had happened to the paradise that she left. Upon finding the truth, she sang a violent song so powerful that the earth and waves vibrated, rising up, and flooding the entire empire with everyone in it, spare a few to tell the tale.
“Some say the siren’s song heard at sea is not meant to destroy unwary sailors. It is merely Lilith’s lament over her lost daughters. Others say it is her revenge against Satan, calling him to engage in a final battle. A battle that all agree would be an apocalypse of sorts.”
“The end of days?”
“As we know them,” Heatherly said.
“I still don’t understand,” Stephen asked. “Why would anyone care about this? Is this why Paxton is still after us?”
Alex turned away, unable to face him, but answered best she could. “Treasure, Stephen. I think Paxton believes he can find this lost kingdom, and the wealth it contains.”
“It’s a myth. Surely no one would believe any of this?”
There was silence in the room.
“Alex? You don’t believe this?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, Stephen. What matters is that Paxton believes it, and that makes him dangerous.”
“Then give him what he wants. It’s not worth it.”
“I can’t.” Alex said it quietly, but with certainty.
Stephen turned to her.
“Whatever it is,” she explained, “I am too connected to it. And so was our mother. I need to find out why this has all happened. To make sense of it somehow. If I can’t do that, then at least I can stop the wrong people from getting their hands on anything until I am sure it’s safe. I’ve failed at so many things … I need to do this. I’m sorry. But I will stop Paxton. I promise.”
“That’s madness,” Joshua countered.
“I have to agree with Worthington, Miss Stafford,” Lord Merriton said.
Alex turned to the men. “I think this has been enough for one night. Your Grace, if I may have a moment privately before you leave?”
Stephen scowled, his curiosity still not satisfied, but he nodded reluctantly when he realized she was not going to discuss this any further tonight and he left with everyone but Joshua.
Alex ran a hand over the carpet, pretending to study it, seeking a moment to gather herself.
Joshua came to her. Too close. She stepped to the other side of the desk. He frowned at that action, but she needed something between them before she could do what she needed to do.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m leaving England.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“As soon as arrangements can be made,” she continued, ignoring him.
“Under what protection, I’d like to know?”
Alex swallowed. He inquired like he had a right to know. As if his protection was the only she was allowed. And as if she needed it.
“I can’t remain here at Lilyfield and put my aunt or her people in any further danger.”
“Agreed,” he said, surprising her.
He took a pace closer, and Alex put up a hand to stop him. “Please! Please just let me finish. I understand what you are doing.” He came around the desk, unrelenting, and a tingle of desire shot up her arms—a desire to lean in and trust him and let him take care of everything, a desire to simply be with him in every way possible. All of which was impossible. She circled the desk again to get away.
“What you think can never be,” she explained.
“You’re wrong.”
“We are too different. I’m too different.” She knew it, but it still hurt to say it to him. To make him see who she really was … and let her go. Because if he didn’t, she didn’t think that she could.
“Different is good.”
She shook her head. “The Earl of Stonewood will hate me after tonight. And how long would it take before the rest of your friends turned against you because of me?”
“You’re mistaken, Alex.”
“I’m not! Joshua, I had only to get through one night. And I ruined it. For everyone.”
“Because you took matters into your own hands instead of getting help first. But you’ll learn.”
She laughed, but it was with moisture burning her eyes. His words only proved that he did not know her yet. “I did send Lady Matilda to find you. But you would have had me wait?”
“Alex, I only ask that you not risk your life carelessly.”
“I don’t.” She didn’t. But everyone had risked their lives for her. She had so much to make up for. Her mother. Her father. They all had made sure she was protected. If the one thing she was meant to do was protect the map, then she would do it. And if part of that meant she had to stop Paxton, then that was best done alone—without risking the loss of anymore loved ones. Joshua would never understand that.
“Please understand. I can’t be what you want. In the end, I would just disappoint you.” She turned away from him. “And that would be more unbearable than this is now.” She gathered her composure and turned back to him, offering a hand of farewell. “I only wanted to thank you for your friendship toward me and Stephen.”
He didn’t take the hand. In two strides he was in front of her, staring at the hand as if thunderstruck. She hadn’t ever seen him truly angry before. It was upsetting. She had not meant to cause this. She didn’t want their farewell to end in disagreement. After a moment she dropped her hand and folded both in front of her, unsure how to deal with him.
“And you know what I want?” he asked, his voice tight with control.
“Yes.” Alex’s temper flared. He didn’t have to make this so difficult. “You want to marry a proper lady who will be your duchess, bear your many offspring, help you renovate Worthington Park to its former glory, and be the perfect companion to the perfect English lord.”
“I’m flattered you think that I am so perfect.”
“You’re not,” she said, sharp and instant. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t want perfection. I, on the other hand, have responsibilities
to my family, and to Stafford Shipping. With Paxton in the mix, there is really no room for a frivolous affair with an English noble whose desires are at odds with my own. I am very flattered by your attention, but it could never work out.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and she held herself stiffly, turning her head away, knowing that to fight his superior strength would be a mistake.
“Look at me!”
When she didn’t, he shook her and repeated the words. “You don’t know a damn thing about what I want,” he hissed.
“Was I wrong?”
He hesitated, and in that hesitation, her heart dropped another inch, and she closed her eyes in defeat, all the while knowing she was doing the right thing.
His grip squeezed her arms a degree more, demanding her attention. She did not think her heart could take much more of doing the right thing. It hurt to look into those fierce blue eyes, but she made herself do it. There would be time for regrets later.
“You were not entirely wrong. I do want a duchess. And children. And to share a home with a woman who is my perfect mate. Not perfect, Alex. My perfect mate. There’s a difference.”
“I hope you find her,” Alex parried, struggling to present a polite and uninterested demeanor. She must have succeeded. He shook his head with a bitter nod of acceptance, thrusting her away. She stumbled backward slightly, not fighting his wrath. She welcomed it. It was much easier to deal with. He moved away, toward the desk, as if needing to give himself distance in order to fight the temptation to strike her.
“We are not different, Alex. That’s why I understand exactly what you’re doing. And I admire you for it.”
Alex looked at him, her first sense of uncertainty creeping in. Her stomach curled for one instant of hope.
“But,” he paused, taking his time to study her. “It would be a mistake to care for someone who has so little sense of her own self-worth that she cannot accept help.” He scrutinized the map on her desk and long fingers curled tightly around one corner of it, as if he would destroy it himself. She instinctively moved away from the violence etched on his face.
“You do leave a path of death and destruction, Alex.” He pulled the carpet from the desk and threw it on the floor separating them. “Only you can change that.”
Siren's Song Page 18
