To Seduce an Earl (41 page)

Ophelia left the cottage and started through the garden.

Wavers released Grace and moved forward following Lady Lavender like a little lapdog. Grace stumbled outside, tripping down the stoop as they moved through the front garden. He was leaving… leaving her here alone. The future was gone. Raw pain surged through her being. Grace crossed her arms around her waist, wanting to sink to the ground.

Lady Ophelia glanced over her shoulder, her gaze hard as ice. “Kill her.”

Confused, it took Grace a moment to realize the woman was speaking of her. The world seemed to pause as the blood roared to her ears in denial. Alex jerked away from Wavers, his gaze frantic and haunted and that’s when Grace realized she was to be murdered, shot in the very garden they’d hoped to make a home.

Jensen lifted his pistol, the barrel pointed directly at her chest. Everything slowed, yet she couldn’t move, knew she couldn’t protect herself in time. Knew she was going to die.

A shot rang out. Gasping, Grace stumbled back, tripping on her own feet.

“No!” she thought she heard Alex scream.

Off balance, she fell to the ground with a thud, half-hidden behind a rose bush. The entire world seemed to disappear as Grace waited to feel the pain. But nothing came. For a moment she merely lay there upon the ground, staring up at the gray clouds, vaguely aware of shouts and thundering feet. Suddenly Alex hovered over her, his gaze so soft, so warm, that she thought he might be preparing to cry.

“Are you well?” Alex demanded, his voice gruff.

“Y…yes. I believe so.” She blinked, confused. “Was I shot?”

“No, thank God, no,” his voice caught in a show of emotion. Alex collapsed atop her, pressing his lips to hers, the warmth of his breath comforting. “Thank God, no.” His trembling hands traveled her body as if he didn’t quite believe his own words and was looking for a wound. “Thank God,” he murmured once more, his voice catching.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered. Alex slipped his arm around her back and helped her sit upright. “What happened?”

“My… father.”

Shocked, she peeked over his shoulder, attempting to make sense of the situation. Alex’s father stood some ten feet from them, dressed in the finest of suits, looking for all the world like a gentleman, but for the smoking pistol in his hand. Behind him stood three other men, all holding pistols of their own. He had brought his own little army.

Lady Lavender had gone pale, standing as still as a statue in the middle of the garden, that well-kept composure gone. Frozen in time. She looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Perhaps she had.

Alex’s father swallowed hard, emotion playing across the weathered lines of his face. He looked old, down-trodden, so unlike the brusque man she’d met in London. “You vill take your men and leave my son alone.”

Grace’s heart swelled with hope. She reached for Alex’s hand, needing to feel the warmth of his touch. Slowly, Alex wrapped his arm around her waist and helped her to her feet. Jensen was sprawled out upon the grass not ten feet from her. A horrible image indeed. A pool of blood soaked his jacket, his face shiny with perspiration as he attempted to contain his grunts of pain.

Ophelia laughed, a manic laugh, barely acknowledging her injured man. “You think you have any control over me? You lost control twenty years ago. I can destroy you, and you know it.”

Alex’s father’s jaw clenched. “I stood by vhile you vere harmed and for that I vill forever be guilty. But you have ruined my life. The lives of my family. Ve are even.” His father lowered the gun. “You shall keep my son’s former life to yourself and I shall not tell the world who you truly are.”

Startled, Grace studied the woman’s pale face. She no longer laughed. The words stung Lady Lavender, made her quiver with what could only be fear. Had she been right all along, was Lady Lavender from a titled family?

“You’ve already done vhat you came here to do,” his father added. “You’ve destroyed my son’s life. You’ve destroyed us. It’s over.”

Ophelia slid Alex a glance. An odd smile played upon her lips…almost a smirk, as if she realized something he didn’t. A shudder whispered over Grace’s skin. She slid her arm around Alex’s waist and rested her head on his chest, as if she could protect him with her touch.

“You’ll be a happy family now?” Ophelia’s voice sounded odd, almost child-like. The woman was mad, completely and utterly mad.
 

“No. You know as vell as I that can never happen,” his father replied. “Be proud of yourself, for you’ve ruined our lives. You’ve done vhat you accomplished.”

Overcome with despair, Grace turned her face into Alex’s shirt. Nothing would ever be normal between them. But he… he had her… they could be content. They could be utterly happy. They could leave this wretched world behind. If only he’d believe.

“You’ve done everything you can to me,” his father said. “Let my son be.”

Wavers, as quiet as ever, leaned down, helping Jensen to his feet. Even if Lady Lavender didn’t know when to quit, her men did. It seemed wrong, so incredibly wrong that they would get away with what they had done, no true punishment.

“Take them to the carriage,” his father demanded. “See that they don’t return.”

The small army escorted Lady Lavender, Jensen and Wavers through the trees. Not once did Ophelia look back.

“I understand why you did what you did, Alex.” His father’s gaze was on him. “I understand, and I hope you understand why it is that ve can never see you again.”

“No!” Grace cried out.

“Shhh,” Alex whispered, holding her close. “It’s all right.”

She pressed her lips into a firm line and glared at the hateful man before them. How could he treat his son so? The man had the decency to flush and look away.
 

“Any association vould ruin your brother,” his father explained.

Alex nodded. “I understand.”

But Grace didn’t understand at all. Unable to look the man in his dark eyes, she focused on Alex’s lovely face. Alex, so damn honorable, always thinking of others.

“I’ve done horrible things in this life, Alex. I don’t expect you to forgive me.” His father made no move to come closer. “But I hope this vill help.” He pulled a missive from his pocket and set it on the top of their crumbling rock wall. “Please, take it, tis your mother’s vish.”

The man turned, and slowly made his way through the trees, following the others.

“Will they be back, do you think?” Grace asked.

“No. When my father makes a promise, he always sees it through. Ophelia will not return…neither will my father.”

The garden grew silent, so empty, so odd. Only the scent of gunpowder remained, but that too, would soon be gone and once again their roses would overpower the air. Perhaps Ophelia would return, but Grace had a feeling she wouldn’t. Whatever her past might be, it was obvious she wanted no one to uncover her secrets. The emotions that had pumped through her blood receded, leaving her vulnerable and shaking.

“And you,” she whispered. “Can you let her go, can you believe in us? In a future? Will you stay, Alex?”

He pulled her close, hugging her tightly. “I will never leave you again, Gracie.”

For one long moment, as the birds chirped in the trees and the waves roared in the distance, Alex merely held her. She was content to stand there, in his embrace, but Alex needed to see what was in that envelope, know what his father had left him.

“Go on,” she said, pushing away from him.

Pausing only for a moment, Alex finally reached for the envelope. With trembling fingers, he opened the missive. His face was blank, his eyes unreadable. “An inheritance. From my grandfather.”

Slowly, he moved to the door and sank down onto the front stoop, the paper in hand. Grace hadn’t a clue how much it was, nor did she care. She only worried about Alex and his pale face. Slowly, she settled next to him. He lifted his stunned gaze to her. “We won’t be rich, but we won’t starve either. I can support you, your family.”

“Oh, Alex. I never cared about money!” Grace threw her arms around his neck and held him close, so close she felt his heart slam wildly against her own. “I’m here, Alex. I’ll always be here no matter what.”

He cupped the back of her head. “You were right all along,” he whispered into her hair. “I was letting Ophelia control me. I didn’t believe we could have a future. It won’t happen again.”

She pulled back, smiling at him through her tears. “It’s all right, I believed enough for both of us.”

He took her hands in his, his face serious. So serious. “I want you, Grace. I want a life with you, a future.”

The tears she’d been trying desperately to hold back, trailed down her cheeks. “I thought I’d lose you.”

He cupped the sides of her face. “Never again.” There, on the front stoop of their little cottage, with a soft storm breeze whispering through the roses, he leaned down and kissed her. A gentle kiss. A kiss she’d never experience from him before, a kiss of dreams, of hope, of a future.

“There’s something else.” He pulled back, leaving her bewildered and wishing for more.

Tilting the envelope, a golden ring fell onto his palm. Blue sapphire petals formed a flower around a small yellow stone. “My grandmother’s.”

The ring sparkled and shone in what little light managed to pierce the thick clouds. “It’s not much, but they never seemed to need much. Yet… they were happy. So very happy.”

“A forget-me-not flower.” Grace’s lower lip quivered. She couldn’t quite help herself and reached up, slipping her fingers through the windswept locks at his temple. “Tis lovely.”

He looked up at her and the vulnerability in his eyes was almost her undoing. “I have no position in society.”

“I never fit in anyway,” she countered.

Alex took her hand in his. “I have no family.”

“We’ll start our own.”

“I—”

Grace cupped the side of his face, the day’s growth of whiskers erotic against her sensitive palms. “Do you love me?”

“Yes,” he whispered; the sincerity in his gaze warmed her inside and out. “I do love you.”

She smiled as longing and happiness burst through her chest. “Ask me, Alex.”

He slid the ring upon her finger. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she whispered against his mouth.

“Then that’s all I need.”

Epilogue

Afternoon was his favorite time of day. The sun low upon the horizon, spreading brilliant rays of orange and pink through the sky. Waves glistened and sparkled while gulls cried overhead. A time when the household began to settle. Scents of dinner simmering, laughter in the garden, a time of quiet evenings and passionate nights.

Alex leaned against the door frame, his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, Julian in his arms. The boy chewed upon his fist, drool trailing from his chin and soaking Alex’s shoulder. His dark curls wavered on the warm, summer breeze.

“And how does your fist taste today, my dear lad,” he whispered, nuzzling his face against the child’s soft cheek.

Julian giggled, his hazel eyes sparkling.

“Papa!” Hope cried out, skipping toward him through the open gate, her auburn curls bouncing. The excitement in her eyes thrilled him as much as it had when she was a babe. Always happy to see him, his first child had slipped into his heart even before she was born.

He leaned down, lifting her into his arms, a child on either side, he had never felt more content. Hope leaned over and pressed a kiss to Julian’s head and then rested her palm on Alex’s face. With a giggle, she leaned closer and brushed the tip of her nose against his.

“Where is your mother?” he asked, stepping into the garden and searching for Grace.

“She’s visiting Grandmama.”

Alex smiled, ignoring the twinge of sadness that pierced his chest. “I see.”

Every evening Grace lay flowers upon her mother’s grave. The woman had had three years of peace in their cottage, until one evening, while taking a nap, she hadn’t woken. Grace had been grateful that she’d had three years with her mother. Alex had been devastated, wishing that he could have given more time to the softly spoken woman he’d come to care for as a mother. It had been a year now since Grace’s mama had died and the pain was still there, a deep ache they all felt.

“I can leave now, knowing my children are cared for. Knowing my Grace is so happy.”

The last words her mother had spoken to Alex. And although they mourned her, Grace swore she could feel her spirit in the caress of the wind, smell her scent in the flowers that bloomed in the front garden.
 

He was trying. Trying not to focus on the negative. And he was happier than he’d ever been, ever imagined he could be. When Grace told him to look at the beauty of a flower, he looked.
Truly
looked. She’d changed his life for the better and he wouldn’t give up anything, not for his royal title, not for jewels and riches unimaginable.

Grace and Patience came strolling over the hill, smiling and chatting the way only sisters could. Four years later, he still couldn’t look at Grace without wanting to drop to his knees and thank God. The soft roar of the ocean waves in the distance and gulls crying overhead, called out their approval.