His father’s face went from stunned to flushed, his anger almost palpable. “Where the hell have you been?”
This was the father he’d known. His sire had not changed in all these years. For some reason, this realization made him feel somewhat relieved. “You should sit,” Alex said patiently. He’d known all along his father would be his toughest opponent. Things would not go as easy as they had with his mother.
His father stomped toward him, a big bull of a man dressed in black, ballroom attire. They had aged, their positions had bettered, but in reality nothing had changed. His father still couldn’t control his anger and his mother would still cower before the man.
His father’s very footsteps vibrated the floorboards. “Do you know how many times your mother cried herself to sleep at night? Do you know how many months and months we searched for you? Our only consolation was that we thought you to be dead and that was why you had left without a word. And now you show up here, healthy and hale?”
Alex didn’t even flinch, although he noticed Grace’s eyes flashed toward him. The outrage and sympathy he witnessed in her gaze should have made him feel better, it didn’t. She was witnessing his father’s ire, witnessing the life he’d led, the people he’d disappointed. Was there nothing decent he could offer her?
“I did what I had to do,” he said, his voice catching.
His father paused a good five feet from him, his lips lifting into a sneer. “And what was that?” That condescending tone. The same voice he’d used when punishing them as children. That same look of disgust. Only this time Alex did not fear the man. What smirk the old man had on his face would soon be gone. He now had the power to hurt them all beyond measure.
“When I was thirteen a woman approached me. She knew who I was. She knew who you were. She knew everything about our family, including our connection to the royals.” He looked at Grace, it was easier to speak to her as if his parents weren’t in attendance. As much as he wanted to abandon this ridiculous need to speak the truth, he knew there was no turning back now. “She told me she would keep our secrets safe.”
“In exchange for vat?” his father demanded, his accent growing thick.
Alex looked the man directly into his eyes. “In exchange, I would sell my body. I would become a whore.”
His mother gasped. His father grew pale.
“You’re jesting,” his father insisted.
“It’s not true!” His mother surged to her feet, only to waver as if she would faint again. This time Alex didn’t dare go to her side. “No!” She shook her head, tears once more welling in her faded blue eyes, eyes that had once looked at him with love and kindness and now only held horror. “Please tell me it’s not true.”
“Dear God.” His father pressed his hand to his chest. “Net.”
Guilt and shame should have been foremost in his heart. Instead, Alex only felt that odd numbing buzz, as if he was merely witnessing a play that had nothing to do with his life’s story. “I’m sorry, but I did what I thought I had to.”
“You should ‘ave trusted me!” His father roared. “You should ‘ave told me da truth!”
Numbness gave way to anger. Alex surged forward, his hands fisted. Suddenly he was a part of his family again, thrust back into the role of the stubborn, eldest son. “Trust you? You had done nothing for us!” He shoved his finger into his father’s chest. “We were starving, practically destitute and you had done nothing to change that!”
His father’s face grew flushed, his nostrils flaring as he struggled for breath. “You are related to royalty and you have tainted their blood! God willing, you would have died that day.” He turned his back to Alex. “You never should ‘ave returned home. We were better off not knowing.”
The words didn’t pierce his soul. No, Alex had been expecting this to happen. For Grace’s sake he’d hoped for more, but deep down he’d known all along this would be the outcome.
“No,” his mother whimpered, reaching out to him, her pathetic attempt at reconciliation. But she would not protect him. She might have snuck him dinner when he had been sent to his room as a child, but she would never contradict his father.
“You vill ruin vhat little reputation I ‘ave worked so hard to regain,” his father added, as if attempting to offer Alex some lame excuse, the most he would do. He didn’t face his son. No, instead he moved to the fireplace as if disgusted.
But Alex needed no excuses and expected nothing more. He swallowed hard, focusing on the roar of blood to his ears. “No, I won’t ruin your reputation. I will leave, I won’t return. I promise you’ll never see me again.” He turned and that’s when he noticed Grace standing there so still, her face so pale, a marble statue.
Grace. Beautiful, untainted Grace. He reached out and she took his hand, not hesitating. There was no shame on her face, nothing but caring compassion. The frantic need to escape clawed its way through his being.
“Alex, please, don’t run off,” Grace whispered. “Your mother will help him see reason.”
But Alex knew the truth.
Without explanation, he led Grace through the door and into the hall. He couldn’t feel her fingers. He couldn’t feel his feet hitting the marble floor. The lights were an odd blur as if the entire world had grown hazy. Henry, ever the faithful butler, pulled open the front door, no doubt eager to see them gone. For some reason he found that amusing and would have laughed if he could feel his face. It all seemed to happen within the blink of an eye. They were in the house, attempting a reconciliation, the next minute it was over.
“Alex, please!” Grace tugged on his arm as they stepped out onto the front stoop, forcing him to pause there, in the rain.
“Grace, you know nothing about my family,” he finally managed.
The door shut, the lock clicking in place. The sound was like a gunshot through the quiet evening air. The scene had ended.
“You must make them understand—”
Alex started down the steps, there was nothing left for him here. He was oddly resigned to the fact that his life was over.
Grace scampered after him. “They will understand, Alex.”
He paused there on the footpath, the gas lamps casting a heavenly glow through the fog drifting over the cobbled streets. He stopped there and let the cool rain patter against his face, but it would not wash away his sorrow, his pain, his past.
“Why? Why should I try to explain? Why should I try, when he’s right?”
Grace latched onto the lapels of his jacket, her grip almost desperate. “No, Alex. He isn’t right. Don’t you dare give up. I don’t care if society accepts us. I only want you!”
He cupped the side of her face, his heart crumbling, breaking piece by piece because he knew this would be the last time he would see her. “Think of your family and marry your earl.”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “I won’t.”
He lifted his hand, hailing a passing hack. “You will, Grace. Because I don’t love you. I never will. Whores like me are incapable of love.”
Her face went pale, her lower lip trembling. “You don’t mean that.”
Her pain was like a knife to his heart. He didn’t defend his statement; he didn’t try to reason with her. Instead, without looking back, he turned and walked away from Grace and his only chance at life.
Chapter 18
Grace moved numbly into the townhome, closing and bolting the door behind her. The rain had thickened, soaking her clothing and leaving her body as numb as her heart.
He had left her. Perhaps she’d never see him again. She wasn’t shocked by his reaction. She knew how his heart ached. Who wouldn’t after such rejection by one’s family? Alex had been devastated by his father’s harsh words. She’d seen the look in his eyes… that odd blankness that had taken away any life.
How she despised his father! How she despised Lady Lavender! How she even despised Alex’s mother for not confronting her husband.
Grace moved toward the parlor, her footsteps
slow and unhurried. There was no reason to rush. There was no one waiting for her, but she knew the red coals in the parlor hearth might as least still provide some warmth. The butler and one maid they’d managed to retain were abed, the house silent. John, no doubt, was out gambling what little money they had left.
She’d always craved a moment of silence or two, grasping it whenever she could. Now…now it was merely upsetting. The loneliness too heavy.
The parlor door stood open, a yawning rectangle of darkness. Like red demon’s eyes, the coal in the hearth leered at her from across the room. Grace tossed her sodden cloak to the settee and moved toward the fireplace. She had a feeling she would never be warm again. Morose, she sniffed and kicked off her slippers. Where was Alex now? Had he returned to Lady Lavender or had he run off, never to be heard of again like some ancient myth? A memory she would cling to on lonely nights.
Grace hiked up her skirts and pulled off her damp stockings, placing them upon the screen to dry. She would ignore the tears burning her eyes. She had cried enough in the carriage, she would not shed more.
If he had returned to Lady Lavender’s at least she could hunt him down, but would Alex accept her if she came to call? It was selfish of her to wish him there when he hated it so. She reached for her bodice, her fingers cold and trembling. It was impossible to believe that only hours ago he had been in her bedchamber. Her arms fell to her sides as hopelessness washed over her. No, he couldn’t be gone!
“Please, don’t stop on my account.”
The familiar, male voice sent her heart racing, but not for the reason she would have liked. Grace spun around. Rodrick reclined in their wing-backed chair looking for all the world like a man at ease. She pressed her hand to her racing heart, stunned and confused.
“Rodrick, I wasn’t expecting you.”
He smiled, his teeth flashing white in the darkness, much too much like a wolf after a sheep. What was he doing here? Truly, she had no desire to deal with anyone at the moment, especially a spoiled gent. And as much as she liked him, she couldn’t deny that he was spoiled. Rodrick didn’t know struggle or pain. He didn’t understand the constant thoughts of worry that kept a person up at night.
“Yes, well,” he stood, unfolding his tall body. “I wanted to talk to you.”
She glanced around the room, looking for John. Surely he hadn’t come here merely to speak with her. Or was John up to his old tricks and Rodrick needed her help once more?
“Me? How long have you been waiting?”
He shrugged, not pausing until he was close to her…too close. His jacket was gone, hung over the wing-back chair. He wasn’t wet, his body and scent were warm. He had been waiting a good while, but that was no reason for the man to be so comfortable. How very odd he was acting tonight.
Grace crossed her arms over her chest, feeling ill at ease. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing to be alarmed about.” He grasped her shoulders and turned her away from him. “In fact, this is something to celebrate.”
She was stiff, confused by his brazen hold. “Truly?”
“Truly.” His warm fingers were at the back of her neck. With deft movements she suddenly felt her hair come loose, trailing down her back in heavy, damp waves.
Grace gasped, her hands going to her head. “What are you doing?” She spun around to face him, stunned, outraged.
“I thought you’d be more comfortable.” He moved to the fireplace, completely unconcerned. Who did he think he was, coming into her home and touching her so? Had he gone mad? “Grace, we have things to discuss.”
She felt suddenly vulnerable for some odd reason, enclosed in this small place with a man she’d known for years, yet, didn’t really understand.
“The other night in the carriage…”
Grace flushed, remembering the kiss. It all made sense… his comfortableness with her home, his ease with touching her in such a familiar way. Lord, he wasn’t truly going to ask her to marry him now of all times? She couldn’t stomach it!
“We understand each other, Grace.”
He was.
She felt sick. Grace stumbled back, collapsing onto the settee. Everything she had always wanted, everything she needed was being offered on a silver platter. She was getting exactly what she had always wanted, except now… she didn’t want any of it.
He turned to face her, but she couldn’t read his expression. “We do well together, Grace, which is why—”
“No!” Grace surged to her feet. She would find some way to save Mama and Patience, but she couldn’t, wouldn’t marry Rodrick. “I don’t…I’m not in love with you.”
He paused, startled. Lord, she’d done it now. Would he make a scene? Or would he flush with embarrassment and leave immediately? She glanced nervously at the door, realizing just how alone they were.
Then he laughed. A hard, loud laugh that surprised her. “What does love matter?” He started toward her, his gait easy and unhurried. She knew many in the ton didn’t marry for love, but still, coming from him, it seemed strange.
“I assumed…that is… if you don’t love me, why would you want to marry me?” She laughed nervously. “We both know that it can’t be my dowry.”
He paused, his face showing his confusion.
Perhaps he saw marriage as a friendship. Not romantic, but they did get along well enough. Could she marry without love? Could she never see Alex again? The thought swirled deep within her chest and squeezed her heart painfully.
She shook her head, knowing quite well she was ruining everything by denying him. “No, I’m sorry, Rodrick, I can’t marry you.”
He quirked an arrogant brow. “My dear, I never wanted marriage.” He shrugged. “I suppose someday I shall marry, but it won’t be soon. I have no desire to settle into matrimony hell as my parents did.”
“But then…what…” Reality slapped her sharply across the face.
He leaned forward and grinned like he was talking with a silly child who believed in fairy tales. “I don’t want marriage, Grace, but I do want you.”
Shock fled and anger took its place. “You can’t be serious.”
Any mirth faded from his amber eyes. He straightened and stepped back, almost as if offended. “Please, do not try and feign the virginal innocence with me. Who do you think paid for your visits to Lady Lavender?”
Grace went cold. “John—”
“John hasn’t a pence to his name.” He smoothed down the cuffs of his shirt. “The idiot has gambled everything away.”
Grace pressed her hands to her stomach, feeling ill. Rodrick knew about her visits with Alex. The room grew blurry, her mind numb. Rodrick didn’t want her, never had respected her. And John… how much did John know? She wouldn’t be surprised if he knew everything. He’d probably given the man his blessing. “Why? Why do you want me?”
He shrugged, clasping his hands behind his back. “I like you, Grace. You have a fire inside you that is quite attractive. I think we’d do well in bed together and it’s obvious you fancy me.”
“Fancy you?” She shook her head, disgusted.
“You’re attracted to me, Grace, you always have been. When John offered your services three months ago, I admit, I wasn’t sure if you would work well.”
Anger rushed through her being, too much emotion at once. The light seemed to dim, her entire world had come down to one moment. John had sold her. Grace felt dizzy, the room spinning. “I…I can’t.”
Rodrick’s face flushed, his anger palpable. Surely he wouldn’t harm her here, in her own home with her mother upstairs? “John assured me, and I assumed because you had no trouble kissing me in the carriage, that—”
“Marriage!” Grace cried out. “I assumed you wanted marriage!”
He scoffed, an irritating laugh that made him look almost ugly. “No offense, but you should feel quite lucky to become my mistress.”
Was he quite serious? “No offense, but you should be lucky I haven’t hit you by now.”
H
e narrowed his eyes. Any affection toward her was gone, his gaze hard, unrelenting. “So that’s how it will be?”
She didn’t respond. How could she? There was nothing left to say. She’d lost not only Alex, the man she loved, but she’d also lost Rodrick, a man who was supposed to be her friend.
He strolled toward the chair and picked up his jacket. “You realize I own this home?” he stated quite casually.
She shouldn’t have been surprised, yet she was.
Facing her, he smiled a cold smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes, you see John owes me quite a bit of money.”
This couldn’t be good. Grace had a horrible, sinking feeling.
“In fact, he sold me the house just two weeks ago, assuming you’d work off the debt.”
Grace had never been so furious. “Get out.” Her entire body trembled, sweat beading between her shoulder blades as she resisted the urge to slap him. Who was this man she’d supposedly known for years? He was gone, and in his place was the truth… a monster.
He quirked a brow. “Are you sure you wish for me to leave?”
A soft click broke through the tension-filled room. Grace spun around. Patience stood in the doorway, a pistol in hand, a pistol pointed directly at Rodrick.
Grace blanched, resisting the urge to rush forward. “No, Patience!” If her sister shot the man, she’d end up in Newgate.
Rodrick laughed, completely unconcerned. “Fine, then. I’ll leave, but I will be back to stake my claim and very soon indeed.”
He started toward the door, his stroll unhurried, unconcerned. Pistol still pointed at the man, Patience scurried out of his way. When he disappeared into the hall, Grace could finally breathe again.
Neither of them spoke until they heard the front door close.
Patience lowered the pistol, her body visibly shaking.
“Patience.” Grace ran to her sister and threw her arms around her waist, drawing her thin body close. “Oh Patience, what were you thinking?”