When his hands moved downward to cup her bottom and pull her up against his hard erection, Grace gasped, tearing her mouth from his. How she adored the man! How he made her forget the world. She reached for the buttons on his jacket. She would have him this time, all of him. Blast it, her fingers were too cold and her body trembling too badly to work properly.
“So many things…” he gasped. “I must… need to…”
She finally got the buttons undone and shoved the jacket from his broad shoulders. Eagerly, she pressed her lips to the side of his neck where his pulse beat erratically. He tasted of spicy male, of night air and of rain. Her trembling fingers crawled down the buttons of his linen shirt, eager, so bloody eager.
“Grace, please.”
“What things?” she asked in a breathless whisper. His shirt parted. Grace spread the material wide and slipped her hands up his chest, her fingers tracing the carved muscle, spreading through the crisp, dark hair sprinkled across his torso. So bloody warm under her touch. She’d never get enough of the man.
“Things…such as… Good lord, stop.” He grabbed her wrists, his grip so tight, she paused in surprise. “I can’t think when you’re touching me and I need to think.”
Did he not wish to be intimate? The thought chilled her blood, confused her. Before she could question him further, he took her hand and pulled her toward the chair near the empty fireplace. “Sit.” He gently pushed her down, then grabbed a shawl and tossed it over her shoulders.
Grace tightened her fingers on the fringe of her wrap, and resisted the urge to stand again and demand answers. His face was so serious that he was almost frightening. He did want her, didn’t he? He had come to make amends, hadn’t he?
He raked his hands through his hair in the way he did when he was flustered. “There’s so much I haven’t told you, that I haven’t told anyone.”
“What is it?” Surely nothing he could say would be more shocking than what she already knew about him. Still, Grace couldn’t deny that her nerves were tingling in warning.
“I’m from Russia,” he blurted out.
She nodded. “Yes, I assumed.” Was that why he was so nervous? “Your nationality does not concern me.” Although she had certainly wondered how he had gotten here. But it was his story to tell and she’d always been patient.
He started pacing in front of her, the floorboards squeaking in protest. “I wasn’t always… a whore.”
She nodded again, glancing at the door, worried John would arrive home soon and notice Alex’s heavy footsteps. “Please, Alex, what is it? You’re driving me mad with suspense.”
He stopped and faced her. How she wished she could read his features, but the darkness made it nearly impossible. Still, she didn’t need to read his face to know he was upset. The air practically vibrated with unease.
“My family was related to the Russian royals.”
Grace waited for his laughter.
It never came.
“Dear lord, you’re serious.”
He moved to the cold hearth, resting his hands on the mantel, his back to her. “My mother was English, my father Russian. We fled to England during the war when I was but a boy. We knew very few. My mother’s family was not part of the ton, but wealthy famers who kept to the countryside. We hid, here, in London, fearing retribution because we were Russian.”
He paused then and the silence stretched between them. Alex was related to royalty. Why did that not surprise her as much as it should? Instead of shock, Grace felt oddly numb.
“I…I see,” she whispered, knowing she must say something. Alex was related to royalty. It was like some horrible, wretched fairy tale. “But…how are you here, in this situation?”
He swallowed hard, his unease almost tangible, like a wave in the air that trembled and quaked. “Lady Lavender threatened to destroy my family if I didn’t work for her. She would tell the world who we really were. Of course, at the time, the English didn’t particularly care for Russians. Now that I’m older, I realize we could have hidden in the countryside, but as a young lad, I was… frightened.” He paced in front of her. “I was not allowed contact with my parents, not allowed to explain my sudden disappearance. After years I’d had enough. I knew the war was over and assumed we would be safe. That’s when she swore to tell the world what I had been. When she threatened to go after my brother, I knew she had me. And then…then I saw my brother that day at the gaming hell.”
Demitri. She remembered the situation so vividly, for it was one of the first times Alex had shown true emotion. The man had been his brother? So many thoughts tumbled through Grace’s mind, she wasn’t sure which to latch onto. How she hated Lady Lavender. How she wanted to go to her gaudy estate and wrap her very fingers around the woman’s neck.
“And then I met you.” Startled, Grace turned her attention to him once more. Alex knelt before her, his eyes pleading. “Please, Grace. You must believe me. We were in dire circumstances, running out of money…”
She threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, Alex. I’m so sorry.” His entire body seemed to sink into her, as if breathing a huge sigh of relief. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tightly to him.
“You forgive me?” he whispered into her hair.
His heart beat so rapid, so frantic against her chest. “There is nothing to forgive. When I met you, I couldn’t resist your charm. I knew there was something there, underneath it all and I was right. You’re an honorable man.”
He pulled back and cupped the sides of her face. A desperation shone in his eyes that tore at her gut, squeezed at her heart. “You don’t know how much your words mean to me, even if I don’t deserve them.”
“You do!” She pressed a quick kiss to his cold lips. “And your family will think the same.”
He stiffened. Grace resisted the urge to cringe. Had she overstepped? “You do… you do plan to tell them?”
Slowly, he pulled away from her and stood. He suddenly seemed a county away. Without a word, he turned and paced toward the fireplace.
“Alex?”
He paused, his back to her, his shoulders stiff. What was he thinking? Had she ruined everything?
“The war is over, Alex.” She went to him slowly, fearful of frightening him away. She rested her palms on his damp jacket, soaking in the heat radiating from his body. “You need to find your family. You need to tell them the truth. They deserve it. You deserve it.”
He was silent for one long, horrible moment. Grace bit her lower lip, stepping back and giving him space to think. Was she wrong I coaxing him? She could see the little, lost boy in his eyes. Alex needed his family, as she needed hers. But would he trust her enough to listen to her beliefs? Or would he push her away as he’d done before?
He glanced over his shoulder, a shy look of hesitation that tugged at her heart. “And if I do… can you… do you think you could possibly go with me?”
Euphoria and relief mixed in a dizzying combination. Alex wanted her. Alex needed her. Alex respected her opinion. He might not love her, but at the moment it didn’t matter.
The tears she’d been trying to keep at bay slipped one by one down her cheeks. “Alex, whether you go to your family or not, I will always be here for you.”
Chapter 17
How the hell had he ended up here?
Alex’s grip tightened on Grace’s chilled hand. The woman was half his size, yet he drew comfort from her steady presence all the same. She squeezed his fingers, a silent show of support, obviously sensing his reluctance. Of course the fact that he’d been standing on the front stoop for a good ten minutes might have given her a clue.
She hadn’t needed to escort him to his parent’s home. But he’d asked her and she hadn’t hesitated to agree. And now they stood in front of a townhouse in a reputable part of London. The paint on the door was not peeling, nor the hedges overgrown, as Grace’s townhome. There wasn’t even a feeling of sadness or loss. It was well kept.
Even a child would s
urmise the family was unconcerned with money. Probably titled. They were not living in poverty. They were not starving. They were not pining for him.
Alex had a feeling this was a horrible, terrible idea.
“You found their address so easily,” he said, more to evade the inevitable than to make conversation.
Grace shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but he knew what she was thinking, the same thing as he. Perhaps he wouldn’t be well received after all. “I knew if they had even stepped foot in society, Lady Maxwell would have heard of them. I promise you, she will be discreet.”
And his parents had been out in society. Apparently his mother was known and respected among the ton. And Dem….Dem was a local rake and favorite among the ladies, a title Alex most likely would have claimed if his life hadn’t been stolen at such a young age. Yet, he held no bitterness. No, because the thought of being married off to some spoiled, titled woman sickened him. He’d gone through years of hell, but perhaps, in the end, if Grace stayed by his side, the pain would be worth it.
He glanced down at Grace, her face half hidden under the rim of her straw bonnet. She was so serene, so lovely as the wind tugged at the loose tendrils framing her features and the glow from the lamps on either side the door kissed her skin. She would stand by his side and perhaps, once he confronted his past, they could have a life. That thought, and only that thought, spurred him forward.
Alex lifted his hand and let his fist fall. The sound thundered through the evening air disrupting the thump of carriage wheels over cobbled lanes. His nerves were on edge. He felt like a damn debutante at her first ball. It could go smashingly, or wretchedly.
They didn’t have to wait long. Moments later Alex heard footsteps from inside the house. He stiffened, his heart slamming wildly in his chest, but he managed to stand his ground. He could feel the frantic pulse at Grace’s wrist and knew she was as nervous as he. The realization calmed him for some reason, knowing that she cared, that she would not abandon him to his fate...
The door opened and a graying butler stood before them, his long face dour, his expression leery. “Yes?”
“Is the family in residence?” he asked, knowing quite well they were.
The man quirked an arrogant brow and Alex had the sudden urge to slam his fist into his face. He should expect such arrogance. He should get used to such show of disrespect. Once the world uncovered what he truly was, no one would look him in the eyes again.
“My lady is not taking callers.” He started to shut the door. Alex shoved his foot inside. In any other instance, he would have found the shocked look on the man’s face amusing.
“I will see my mother.”
“Mother?” The butler paled slightly, yet suspicion also clouded his pale blue eyes. “Sir, I think you have the wrong address.”
Oh how he wished. How he wished he could pretend as if he had no family. How he wished he could merely leave with Grace, never to return. But Grace deserved more and if he could offer her a royal lineage, perhaps he wouldn’t feel so wanting.
“Henry, what is it?” Even years later, the soft, feminine voice was as familiar as his own and suddenly Alex was a child once more. Time seemed to actually stand still for one brief moment.
The butler stepped aside and his mother came into view. The same petite woman, but shockingly older. Her upswept hair, which had once been blonde, was now peppered with gray. Wrinkles that had never been there before lined the areas around her blue eyes. Alex swept his gaze down the rich velvet of her dress, back up to her face, looking for signs that she hadn’t changed.
She was thinner, perhaps life had taken its toll, but she had recovered for she was dressed for a ball. He couldn’t help but notice with some shock, the large blue sapphires that hung from her ears and neck. Love and anger combined. How he’d missed her, yet at the same time the bitter part of him lifted its ugly head. She’d obviously gotten over his disappearance.
“Can we help…” The confusion cleared as did the color in her face. She went pale, her blue eyes growing wide. “Alex?”
He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He hadn’t cried in over a decade, yet felt the sudden urge. “Mother.”
Her head lolled back and she started to sink toward the ground. Alex reached her before she hit the floor. Lord, she was light, so frail. It wasn’t exactly the reaction he’d expected. He cradled her thin body to him, marveling over the difference. He’d been as tall as her when he’d left. Now… now he towered over his mother.
“Where is the sitting room?” Grace demanded of the butler.
“Th...there,” Henry stammered out, pointing down the hall. Alex carried his mother’s still body toward the room, watching her face, praying she recovered. He could hear Grace snapping out orders for smelling salts, a wet washing cloth and warm tea and he thanked God she had escorted him.
What a lovely way of reentering his family’s life. He’d practically killed her. Killed his own mother with his sudden appearance. Or perhaps she had fainted from horror. Damn it all, he should have stayed put.
He placed her gently upon a richly upholstered settee. Still she didn’t move. Seeing her so quiet, so pale, so old, Alex’s reserve wavered. Graced rushed into the room, smelling salts in hand. She knelt beside Alex and reached toward his mother. Her experienced hands did not tremble; Grace had done this before.
“No.” His mother swatted Grace’s hand away. “I’m well enough.”
Startled, Grace pulled back and glanced worriedly at Alex. He barely breathed as he waited for his mother to open her eyes. Her thin lashes lifted, those blue eyes focusing on him, peering deep within his soul, searching for the truth.
“My God, Alex, is it truly you?”
He nodded, unable to say more.
Her gaze traveled his face as if attempting to find something, anything, familiar. “You look… so very different, so grown up. But your eyes… your eyes are the same.” She reached out a thin hand and placed it against the side of his face. Her cold fingers trembled, her eyes filling with tears. “I thought you gone forever. Where have you been?”
Alex resisted the urge to reach out to her, to draw comfort from her presence. “First, tell me that everyone is well,” his voice was gruff with emotion. This was his mother, the woman who had kissed his bruises. The woman who would sneak food into his room when Father said no dinner for some mishap. The woman who gave him life, for God’s sake. So why did he feel as if she was a stranger?
She pushed herself upright, smoothing her skirts down her lap. “Yes, your father, Dem, all of us. We are well.” Tears trembled on her eyelashes before trailing down her pale cheeks.
Her tears confused him, made him uneasy. Had they suffered his absence at all? Or was she merely crying because he’d given her a start?
A maid rushed into the room, the tea service on her tray clattering in her haste. Alex was vaguely aware of Grace pouring, heard her murmured thanks, but he couldn’t look away from his mother. From the wrinkles on her face, the graying of her hair. Perhaps, for some odd reason, he thought time would stand still while he was gone. But life had continued on; his family had loved and lived while he had rotted away.
“A year after you disappeared….” His mother paused and glanced at Grace, as if judging her worth and trustworthiness.
“Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Grace.”
The woman hesitated, then reluctantly nodded. They’d always been a private family, keeping their secrets close. “Very well. The year after you left your father worked out a deal with the British government. He provided information, and in return we were able to stay here, unharmed. We’ve done…quite well.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. It was for nothing. Everything he had done was for nothing. Years of hell. Destroying his reputation.
His hands curled into his thighs, the room becoming a faded reality. If he had held tight for only another year he wouldn’t have had to sell his body and soul. He wouldn’t have ruin
ed his life.
“So you see, we worried for nothing.” His mother gave him a weak smile, then leaned forward, grasping onto his hands and jerking him back into reality. “Oh Alex, please tell me where you have been? Why did you leave? I thought you dead!”
The truth. Alex stumbled to his feet, stepping back and pulling away from her. How could he tell her the truth now? His mother was watching him, expecting answers. Grace was watching him, expecting the truth. But how could he tell his mother what had happened? How could he watch the spark of hope fade from her eyes?
He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments. No, he wouldn’t regret his past. He had done what he had to do for his family and because of that, he had met Grace…the very reason he stood here now. The reason he would humiliate himself and tell his family the truth. The very reason he now wanted a life.
And it would sort itself out and everything would be well, as Grace always seemed to think. Everything could be well now that he was here. Yet, even as he thought the words, he knew nothing could ever be normal again. Even if they forgave him, they would never look at him the same.
“Alex?” His mother’s smile faded.
“My dear,” a gruff, male voice boomed through the room.
Alex jerked around, facing the door.
“Henry said…” His father paused just over the threshold, his voice trailing off as confusion wavered over his features. The man had gained weight in his midsection, his dark hair had thinned and turned gray, but he was still the dour looking brute Alex had known and feared as a child. Instead of the overwhelming emotions he’d felt when seeing his mother, at his father’s appearance Alex felt oddly numb.
“Hello, Father.”
His father took a few stumbling steps forward, for the briefest of moments, his emotions unschooled. “My God, Alex, is that you?”
Alex nodded, his only response. For one long moment not one person said a word. The only sounds where the click of the porcelain clock on the mantel and the crackle of the fire in the hearth. The very world seemed to pause, but life went on quickly enough.