To Seduce an Earl (15 page)

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped, taking his discomfort out on her.

She pressed her hand to her cap, holding it in place. “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” He looked down at her, exasperated. “Are you jesting?” He pulled her close as more than one man reached out, as if to touch her and see if she was real. If they dared lay a finger on her, he’d have to kill them, and he didn’t have time to murder hundreds of men.
 

“Of course not, I never jest.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist, practically carrying her down the hall. “Why does that not surprise me?”

Behind them he could hear Rodrick, wrestling John into the corridor. Dandy cock, couldn’t control one man. Grace, hearing them, started to turn, but Alex held her firm, dragging her forward toward those doors where Jensen watched them. “Your carriage is out front?”

“Yes, a hired hack.”

“And you came with him? Lord Rodrick, the man you wish to seduce?”

She stiffened, throwing him a glare. “Shh! Please, lower your voice!”

He gave her his cheeky grin, even though inside his stomach churned. That dandy? That bastard was the man she so badly wanted? She couldn’t be attracted to him, could she? Please, Lord, let it only be for the money.

“Out the back, if you please, Sir,” a butler appeared, nervously shooing them down a side hall.

Alex rolled his eyes heavenward. Amazing, they’d seen more vile things than Satan himself, yet one titled woman in the building threw the establishment into chaos. Alex jerked Grace left, down a narrow hall. He glanced back. Wavers was blocked by the earl and John. Taking an impossibly long time to stumble down the hall, four men each holding one of John’s limbs. Bumbling buffoons, but he supposed he should be grateful since they were keeping Wavers at bay.

“Wait!” Grace pulled back, attempting to turn. “John and Lord Rodrick.”

“They’ll be along shortly, I’m sure.”

Alex dampened down his amusement and pulled Grace closer, heading down the dimly lit corridor. At the end of the hall, the door stood unguarded. Perhaps Ophelia’s men had left their post to uncover the cause of commotion. It didn’t matter; all that mattered was the doors were unguarded.

“Alex,” Grace breathed heavily beside him. “I want to apologize for the incident this morning.”

Surprised, his steps slowed. No one had apologized to him in years. He wasn’t sure how to feel. Heat shot to his cheeks, and at the same time his heart squeezed painfully.
 

“You don’t have to…”

Two men turned the corner, heading directly toward them. “Keep your head down,” Alex warned.

Grace dropped her gaze to the floor as the men stumbled toward them.

Off balance, one bumped into Grace. Her cap fell backward, slipping from her head and revealing those lovely auburn locks. She gasped, reaching out, but it was too late. The garment lay upon the carpet like a dead cat.

“What’s this?” One of the men exclaimed and gave a low whistle. “A beauty, she is. You’re going to share, aren’t you?” His friend laughed at the jest.

Growling low in his throat, Alex shoved Grace behind him. “No, I’m not…”

One of the men shifted, stepping into the light of the wall sconce. Blue eyes, brown hair given to curl slightly. Familiar in some way…

The blond haired man next to him waved his hand dismissively. “Oh leave off Demitri, she’s taken.”

Demitri
. The walls faded. The room faded. The name sent Alex spinning backwards in time.

A little boy raced after him.
“Alex, Alex, wait for me!”

“Next time, Demitri, I promise.”

Alex squeezed his eyes shut, emotion roiling through him, clentching at his gut in a sickening churn. He couldn’t breathe, think, move. He wanted to die.

“Alex?” The plea in Grace’s voice tore at him, awoke him from a dream.

He knew it would happen one day. He thought he’d be prepared. He wasn’t. Slowly, Alex lifted his lashes and stared into the blue eyes of his brother.
 

Chapter 8

“Alex?” Grace knelt and snatched up her cap, pressing it firmly atop her head. Not that the hat mattered; word that she was a lady was spreading like cholera through the building. But that was the least of her worries.

Alex was acting strangely. All color had fled from his face and his eyes glistened with an odd intensity that worried and frightened her. The pure happiness she’d experienced when first seeing him began to dissipate. She rested her hand on his forearm, his muscles tense under her touch. “Alex? Are you well?”
 

“Do I know you?” the man named Demitri asked at the same time.

But he wasn’t speaking to her. No, his gaze was focused on Alex. Alex, who was looking anything but pleased to have his attention. Grace glanced uneasily between the two. It was impossible to ignore the odd anxiety that pulsed between the men. As much as Grace wanted to dismiss the idea, she could not deny there was something familiar about Demitri; the way he moved, that small line that creased the area between his brows, and the way he tilted his head to the side as if confused. Was it merely a trick of the dim light coming from the gas lamps above?

Alex shook his head. “No. You don’t know me.” He latched onto Grace’s hand, his grip tight, too tight. “Come, we need to leave.”

“Alex,” Grace tripped beside him, trying to keep up with his fast pace. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

His face was blank, admitting nothing. But it was obvious something was wrong. She’d seen the bleakness hovering in his eyes. What had happened to upset him so? She glanced back. Demitri still stood there, still stared after them, although his friend was doing his best to gain his attention. Then they turned a corner and Demitri was gone.

Grace looked up at Alex. His gaze was focused determinedly ahead, as if he had something to accomplish and nothing would get in his way. She could admit the moment she’d seen him standing in the doorway, looking so arrogant, so charming, so handsome, the entire world seemed to cease. Her worries had almost vanished. And when he’d pulled her from the room, although she felt the need to protest, a surge of excitement washed over her. This was Alex, the man who made her feel alive, made her forget, for one brief moment, her dreary life. And now something was most definitely wrong.

He paused at the door as if something unseen was keeping him from leaving. Grace ran into his back, her palms flattening to his jacket. A fine jacket. His warmth tingled under her palms, his scent made her dizzy. One thing was certain; he didn’t dress like a whore. There was no gaudy material of lace and satin. Only the finest. She’d feared after this morning in the antiquities shop, she’d never see him again. And now, here they were, together once more. Was it fate, or coincidence?
 

He pushed the door wide and they stumbled down the narrow steps into an alley. The door shut with a thud, closing out the noise and music of the gaming hell. In the narrow corridor they merely stood, gasping so heavily that Alex’s breath formed cold clouds that hung suspended in the air. He wore no overcoat and hat; he’d freeze if he was out long or she’d freeze.

Yet, there was a fine sheen of sweat upon his brow. “Damn.” He looked left, then right, desperately searching for what, she wasn’t sure.

“Well, that was quite the adventure.” At her words he jerked his head toward her, the surprise on his face evident. The surprise quickly gave way, replaced with a hardness that sent her a couple steps back.

He didn’t look right. That charm was gone and in its place someone who seemed dark, desperate. He reminded her of a fox Patience had found years ago. They’d kept the poor beast for months, although he’d never been tamed. Finally they’d released him back into the forest, but instead of darting to freedom, he’d stayed frozen in place for one long moment, as if unsure what to do or how to proceed.
 

“I do thank you,” she added. “But that was—”

“Idiotic?”

She stiffened in surprise. “I don’t know what—”

“You were stupid to come here,” his voice was heavy with disgust.

She dampened down her ire, refusing to fight with him yet again. She was not an idiot. John was the idiot. She was the intelligent one in the family. It was the one thing she possessed and she would not give that up. “I was going to say quite the adventure.”

She stepped back again, this time her foot landed on something soft. A squeak of protest rang out. Startled, Grace jumped. A small dark shadow raced down the alleyway. A rat. Grace shuddered, reluctantly moving closer to Alex.
 

“I assume your fiancé has a coach waiting out front?” His voice still held that bitter edge, making her more than weary.

“He’s not my fiancé…yet.”

When he started down the alley, she tripped after him, skipping over refuse and garbage that she couldn’t identify in the dark; things she didn’t want to identify. The bitter and stale scent of alcohol and vomit hovered in a haze so thick she had to swim through it. She focused on breathing through her mouth, while attempting to match Alex’s long strides. “And yes, it’s out front.”

“Spare a coin?” A lump of material asked, a fist pushing a tin cup toward them.

Grace gasped as a man morphed from the pile of garbage. Alex reached into his pocket and tossed a coin into the cup. It spun around the bottom before settling down with a ting.

“Bless ye, Sire.”

Fascinated, Grace was still watching the man when Alex latched onto her elbow and led her to the street.

“I didn’t realize your kind carried pocket change.” Near their townhome they rarely saw the destitute. Lord, would this be her someday? Begging on the street?

He slid her an annoyed glance. “My kind? Whores, you mean?”

Heat shot to her cheeks even as she refused to be embarrassed. Flustered, she didn’t respond, realizing how he’d taken her question. At times she feared she’d forever offend people. She never seemed to say the right thing.

“We’re given a few coins here and there, just in case.”

In case what?
She was too afraid to ask. Grace frowned as they stepped out into the lane. The street lamps cast a dull, yellow glow that flickered and fought pathetically against the shadows. The thrill of excitement gave way to unease. Grace stepped closer to Alex. A woman in a gaudy red dress leaned against the building, her breasts practically popping from her low neckline.

“Like what ye see?” she said with a wink in Grace’s direction. She fluffed her breasts, attempting to entice them.

Grace ignored the woman, focusing on Alex. “Then why not save your coins and leave? Perhaps find a real position.”

“Yes, it’s so incredibly easy to save my many coins and stroll away,” he said wryly.

Why was he being so difficult? Of course it was easy, he was a man with no children, no wife… he had nothing to keep him there. Surely he could find a respectable position. Unless he didn’t want to. He raked his hand through his hair, his palm pausing at his neck. He seemed unsure, flustered, out of his element.

“Do you want to stay?” Her voice came out high-pitched with outrage, but she was too upset to care. It was the same question she’d asked him at the shop, the same question he’d refused to answer. Her heart paused for one long moment as she waited for his response.

He narrowed his eyes, glaring down at her. “There could be worse things than pleasuring women.”

She stiffened in outrage and dug her heels into the dirt. His words shocked her. Bothered and annoyed her. Yet, at the same time, she didn’t believe a thing he said. She’d looked into the man’s eyes, she’d seen something there…a hunger for more…a sadness that bespoke of longing, a vulnerability. She’d seen the emotion, she was sure.

“Who was that man, Alex?”

He barely glanced her way as he latched onto her arm and jerked her forward. “What man?”

“The man inside. Demitri. You seemed to know him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” When she refused to take another step, he gave in and rested his hands on his narrow hips. “What does your coach look like? I assume your earl took an unmarked vehicle.”

“Why would you assume we took an unmarked vehicle?” she asked. She wasn’t ready to leave. Not this way, not when she might not ever see him again.
 

His lips pulled up into a smirk. “Your earl is the worst kind, a young lord who doesn’t want people to know what he does in secret. He would take an unmarked carriage so he wouldn’t be identified and ruin his reputation. It’s what most men like him do.”

His words certainly disturbed her. “You’re saying he’s done this before?”

He laughed. “You’re more naïve than I thought if you believe your earl doesn’t frequent gaming halls and brothels like most men of his rank. Your fiance has probably had as many female conquests as a…whore.”

He was being intentionally cruel, although why, she wasn’t sure. She pressed her hands to her lower belly. Her stomach churned at the thought of her future husband going to brothels. But then she’d done as much. Surely he wouldn’t after they were married, would he? “It’s common?”