Lost to the Night (The Brotherhood Series, Book 1) (19 page)

“You were not to know,” Evelyn said sitting down opposite her aunt, desperate to tuck into the plate of eggs and bacon. “Mr. Sutherby fooled us all.”

“He certainly did,” she replied with a firm nod. “There’s warm toast in the rack.”

Evelyn took a piece and covered it with a thin layer of butter. “I wonder if Mr. Sutherby told Charlotte what happened last night.”

“Lord Markham took her to one side and informed her that her brother needed to leave. I assume she’d be mortified if she knew of his sinful urges and lustful cravings. Such a quiet, elegant young lady.”

“I don’t suppose she’ll be pleased when she discovers we’re no longer destined to be sisters. She’s talked of nothing else all week.”

“Yes. She did seem desperate to see her brother wed.” Aunt Beatrice patted Evelyn’s hand. “I hope you’re not too disappointed. I had hoped to see you happy and settled but …”

“There’s plenty of time,” Evelyn said, trying not to show her relief at having an excuse to refuse the match. “I have a few years before I’ll be considered unmarriageable.”

“I just don’t like to see you upset.”

“I’m fine.” Fine didn’t even begin to describe how wonderful she felt.

“Never mind. Our trip to India will take your mind off it and give you something else to focus on. You never know, you may meet a wealthy merchant who’s desperate for an English wife.”

Evelyn practically choked on her tea. “Our trip to India?”

“I knew you’d be surprised,” her aunt said clasping her hands to her chest. “Mr. Hartwood has asked me to marry him. He wants us to go to India, only for six months or so. Can you believe it? After all these years. Your mother always said I should have married Mr. Hartwood, but we were young, and our parents did not approve.”

“You’re to be married?”

“Yes,” her aunt beamed. “You have no idea what went through my mind as I lay dying in the wreckage. I thought of all the things I would miss, thought of all the things I’d regret. It forced me to accept what I have spent years denying.”

Evelyn struggled with a range of conflicting emotions. “That’s wonderful, Aunt Bea. I’m so happy for you,” she said feigning a smile. The muscles in her stomach twisted into painful knots, and she felt nauseous and light-headed at the prospect of leaving Alexander. “Isn’t it a little sudden though?”

“Sudden,” her aunt repeated as her eyes widened. “I have always loved Mr. Hartwood and have waited more than thirty years for a second chance at happiness.”

Happiness? What of her happiness? Was this to be the end of everything?

“Are you sure you want to leave your home?” Evelyn hoped her words sounded sincere, hoped her concerns sounded genuine. It took all her effort not to jump from the chair and shout and scream at her aunt for her selfishness. Although it was wrong of her to feel that way. Her aunt had been her guardian for the last five years and had always put her needs first.

“That reminds me. I’m to meet Mr. Hartwood this afternoon. He is taking me to see an exhibition of
Camellia Japonica
at Vauxhall. The Chandler and Buckingham Nursery are desperate to show their exotic flowers now they’re in full bloom. You’re welcome to join us. We’ll be back in plenty of time to take supper with Lord Hale.”

“Supper? Lord Hale is coming for supper?”

Could the day hold any more surprises?

She’d have to wait another twelve hours to see him again. Although at the present moment, twelve hours was a mere trifle when compared to being separated by thousands of miles.

“I invited him last night. It’s the least we can do after he took the trouble to escort you home and in such a discreet manner.” Her aunt took a sip of her tea. “I must say he does seem somewhat protective of you. There are not many gentlemen who would act so selflessly. I believe he is of a mind to wed and thinks you a possible match.”

An array of heavenly images flashed through Evelyn’s mind, pictures of wedded bliss. They were running around the fountain at Stony Cross, laughing and flicking water over one another. They were lying on the lush green lawn surrounded by vibrant rose blooms, his body pressing down on hers as they frolicked under the heat of the midday sun.

Evelyn swallowed deeply.

She’d always professed to be a realist. Yet now her mind was possessed by romantic visions, her heart plagued by fantasies of everlasting love.

“I think your own excitement has affected your judgement, Aunt Bea. Lord Hale is far too complex a man to be defined by the usual modes of conduct.” She wiped her mouth with her napkin and stood up. “I think I’ll go and read some more before I take my bath.”

“Are you coming to Vauxhall? It would give you a chance to get to know Mr. Hartwood a little better.”

“Thank you, but I think I’ll stay here. Perhaps you should invite Mr. Hartwood to dinner tomorrow.”

“What a wonderful idea.” Aunt Beatrice’s smile faded. “I hope you’re not coming down with a chill after being outdoors for so long last night. No doubt, a good soak in a warm bath tub will do you a power of good.”

“I’m sure it will.” To be held tightly against a warm chest would serve her better, Evelyn thought, as she left the room.

So much for a soak in a hot bath. The water was cold by the time Katie came back in, and Evelyn wished she’d bathed in a chemise.

“Sorry, miss, I know I was supposed to bring the kettle, but there’s a letter come for you,” the maid said from behind the screen. “The boy wouldn’t hand it over, not until we’d given him something to eat. He ate two whole servings of Mrs. Anderson’s broth and still I had to grab it from his mucky fingers.”

Katie’s hand appeared around the screen, waving a linen towel for Evelyn to dry her hands before offering the letter.

Evelyn resisted the urge to snatch it from her grasp. Despite her tummy performing somersaults, she turned it over but found no evidence of Alexander’s seal pressed into the wax. Not that she’d expected to see it. It would be unwise to reveal his identity when sending such a private missive.

“Did the boy say who sent it?”

“No, miss. Just that a gentleman paid him to deliver it. A nabob he said.”

Her stomach flipped over again as she broke the seal.

Evelyn scanned the elegant script, her eyes racing to the bottom and widening when she noticed it had been signed with one strong, masculine word: Hale. With her heart all aflutter she began to read the contents.

I hope this letter finds you well after the incident in the garden …

Incident! The word sounded so cold and unfeeling. Had he not felt the same burning desire? Could he not have thought of a better way to express it? Perhaps he struggled to convey what he felt in his heart or feared someone else might read it. Thankfully, his tone improved as she read on.

I know how you like to walk outside in the moonlight …

Now he was teasing her.

Perhaps you would care to join me at the Forbes’ exhibition. The gallery is displaying an assortment of paintings and the theme is ‘moonlight’ …

It was rather a romantic gesture, and so she could forgive him for his
earlier mishap.

We shall have the gallery to ourselves and may peruse them at our leisure. Discretion is, of course, paramount. I shall send a carriage for you at three. Wait on the corner of Ryder and Bury Street.

No doubt, he would be waiting inside the exhibition. He must have paid Forbes handsomely for the privilege, and it put into question her earlier assumption that he was debt-ridden. He obviously still kept a carriage in Town despite insisting he never rode in one.

“The boy’s waiting for your reply, miss,” Katie said disturbing her reverie.

“Oh, yes.” She glanced down at the water. It would take her an age to get dry. “Just tell the boy that I am in agreement. There’s no need to say anything more.”

“Very well, miss,” the maid said, and Evelyn heard her pad across the floor and leave the room.

Evelyn read the letter again. Had she not been so wet, she would have hugged it to her chest. At least, she would not have to wait until supper to see him and being alone with him would mean more sinful gazes and amorous kisses.

Katie came back to help her out of the tub, and once she was dry, she popped on a wrapper.

“Your aunt said she’s leaving at one and will have luncheon out. Will you be coming down to eat or shall I bring something up?”

That would leave Evelyn two hours to get ready before Alexander’s carriage came. She could say she was going to read in the garden. No one would bother to check on her.

“No. After such a filling breakfast, I couldn’t manage anything else to eat.” Besides, nerves had caused her to lose her appetite.

“Well, just ring if you change your mind.”

“I might go out into the garden to read. It’s such a nice day. I’ll wear a long-sleeved walking dress just in case it gets a bit cold.”

The maid didn’t question her choice, and Evelyn didn’t mention wearing the yellow Spencer.

Just before three o’clock, she went out into the garden with both her book and a blanket in hand. The blanket served to disguise her jacket, and she draped it over her arm until she reached the cherry tree.

Memories of their illicit encounters came flooding back. The image of Alexander sitting beneath the tree caused desire to unfurl. If she closed her eyes, she could smell his earthy, masculine scent. She could hear his ragged breath and almost feel it breezing against her skin. The combination only served to heighten the need to see him, to touch him and she practically
threw the blanket and book on the ground in order to fasten her jacket.

Checking over her shoulder, she snuck out through the mews and hurried along the pavement towards the unmarked carriage waiting near the corner of Bury Street.

Upon witnessing her approach, the coachman lowered his head. “Are you here for the Earl of Hale?” he said, jowls of fatty flesh wobbling as he spoke.

Evelyn nodded, and the man climbed down, his heavy frame blocking her entrance as he opened the carriage door and lowered the steps. Moving to the right, he held his hand out and gestured inside.

The carriage blinds had been drawn and so the interior appeared darker than she was expecting. It was then that she noticed the pair of black Hessian boots.

“Alexander?” she said mounting the last step and ducking through the door. “I thought you said you refused to … omph!”

The coachman pushed her inside, threw up the steps and slammed the door.

“Alexander. What on earth is going on?”

Evelyn felt a hand at her elbow as the occupant helped her to her seat. The carriage lurched forward, and the gentleman raised the blind before removing his top hat.

“Forgive my heavy-handedness, Miss Bromwell, but I’m afraid you left me with no other choice.”

“Mr. Sutherby!” Evelyn gasped.

Chapter 20

Alexander rode through the streets as though the buildings were about to come crashing down around him. Carriages swerved to avoid him; the irate curses and loud jeering did not deter him from his course and he almost trampled straight over a man pushing his knife-sharpening cart.

Please hurry, Alexander! Please find me.

The words echoed through his mind once more, rebounding back to cause a sharp pain in his heart. The plea sounded desperate, yet oddly calm and he didn’t know what the hell to make of it. Beads of perspiration trickled down his brow. Every muscle in his body felt hard, pulled taut. Panic flared again, restricting his airways as he struggled to shake the feeling that something disastrous had happened.

Fearing there was no time to ride round to the mews, he tethered his horse to the railings outside Evelyn’s house and vaulted the few steps leading up to the front door.

His incessant banging produced the desired effect as the butler’s heels clipped at a hurried pace towards the door.

“I need to speak with Miss Bromwell,” he said thrusting his hat at the man as he barged through the door. “I must speak with her now.”

“I’m afraid she is not at home.”

“Who is it, Radley? Who’s there? Is it Evelyn?”

Beatrice Penrose came darting out into the hall. She looked tired and weary. The red marks beneath her lower lids suggested she’d been weeping, and her anxious gaze sent a frisson of fear shooting straight through him.

“Lord Hale,” she gasped rushing forward to take his hand. The overfamiliar gesture confirmed his suspicion. “Tell me my niece is with you. Tell me this has all been a terrible misunderstanding.”

Alexander swallowed deeply as she released her grip, his throat felt dry as he tried to form the words. “You mean, Miss Bromwell is not here?”

Mrs. Penrose shook her head and dabbed at the corner of her eyes with her handkerchief. “No, my lord. She has been missing for hours.”

“Missing? How can she be missing?” he said, his tone revealing his anger and frustration at such utter incompetence.

“One minute she was in the garden reading, the next she was nowhere to be seen. She’s left her book and blanket under the cherry tree and has simply disappeared. We’ve searched the whole house.”