Lori Brighton - [The Seduction 02] (33 page)

“A…baby?” His voice came out raspy, his eyes wide and haunted.

Her smile fell. Not exactly the reaction one wanted from a husband. She nodded. For a long, tense moment, neither of them said a word. The only sound was the crackle of the fireplace, the roar of blood pounding in her ears. A soft knock sounded on the door, startling them both.

“My lord,” Will called out. “We found him.”

Elizabeth wasn’t sure who “he” was, but the man must have been important, because the shocked look on Gideon’s face turned into one of pure rage. She didn’t have time to question him, for Gideon was already heading toward the door.

“Gideon?”

“I can’t talk about this right now,” he muttered.

He was out the door before she had time to call him back. For one long moment Elizabeth merely stood there, stunned. What could be more important than a baby? A shiver of unease spurred her forward. Desperate, Elizabeth scooped up her skirts and raced after the man who was her husband.

She spotted his broad back just ahead with Will at his side. “Gideon, who did you find?”

“No one.”

He turned a corner, disappearing from sight, but Will was slower. Elizabeth reached the lad and sank her fingers into his brown jacket, jerking him to a stop. “Will,” Elizabeth snapped. “Who?”

Will paused but glanced toward Gideon like a puppy longing for its master. She sighed, annoyed. The boy had already tossed her aside for the manly lord of the house. She should have been highly offended, and a part of her was, but she was also reluctantly relieved they had accepted Gideon so readily.

“Who, Will?” She left no room for argument in the tone of her voice.

He rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing. “The man who shot at you.”

Elizabeth shook her head, confused. “I thought he was imprisoned?”

“He is, but we found his friend, the one who worked with the dowager.”

“Will,” Gideon’s voice snapped out, echoing down the hall, and like a good little lapdog, Will raced after the man, leaving Elizabeth standing there worried and stunned.

Gideon had been looking for the man? He did care. He’d been trying to protect them all along. Oh God, if he would have murdered the dowager without conscience, he’d have no qualms about killing his man. Elizabeth hiked up her skirts and raced after them.

She could hear the shouted curse words of a man irate as she rounded the corner and headed into the entryway. Two footmen were doing their hardest to hold onto a disheveled lad who seemed vaguely familiar. Had she seen the young man in town? Elizabeth paused near the railing of the staircase. His speech was slurred, his hair mussed. Although his cheeks were still round with youth, he was old enough to be considered a man.

His heated gaze found her. “Bitch!”

She stiffened, startled by his hatred.

“She’s the reason Lord Collins fired me!”

Her husband had fired this man? “I don’t…” Suddenly, it came surging back. Over a year ago she’d caught him taking advantage of a maid who had most assuredly not appreciated his slobbery kisses and roaming hands. Oh God, he’d been more than happy to assist the dowager in planning her demise, it was his way to get revenge.

“Mr. Miller,” Elizabeth whispered.

“She’s the bitch!”

“Silence,” Gideon demanded, and the man fell quiet because everyone listened to Gideon. The entire household paused, from the footmen holding him to the housemaids peeking from the rooms. Nervous anticipation was thick in the air. “Who hired you?”

“Not bloody well tellin’ ye anything.” Mr. Miller glared at Gideon, but Elizabeth didn’t miss the flicker of unease in his dark gaze. She had a feeling things would not go well for him, and he seemed to agree.

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.

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.