Letter From a Rake: Destiny Romance (23 page)

BOOK: Letter From a Rake: Destiny Romance
7.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

As David made to step around him, Alex countered his move and the brothers stood toe to toe, angrily eyeing one another.

‘Get out of the way, Alex. If you don’t, I shall beat you to a bloody pulp,’ David replied. The calm in his voice sat on the thin edge of rage.

‘Not until you tell me where you are going and why you left me at the reception,’ Alex replied. ‘You owe me that much, at least.’

David threw the bag down again, this time hitting Alex in the leg.

‘I don’t owe you a thing, you stupid arse. Not content with making a mess of your own life, you decided to ruin mine.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Alex replied.

David sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out again. ‘Let me ask you this: did you mail the letter I wrote for Millie Ashton?’ he asked, in a tone normally reserved for a recalcitrant child.

Alex screwed up his face. ‘Well, yes and . . . no.’

‘What the devil does that mean?’

‘I didn’t send the letter you handed to me – because I had already sent the other letter.’

‘That much I now understand. But what I cannot comprehend is why you didn’t bother to tell me,’ David snapped.

Alex sighed. ‘I found the original letter on the floor while you were asleep. I gave it to a footman to post. By the time you gave me the other letter the following day it was all too late. I reasoned that a passionate letter to Millie was better than a kind sweet one, so I told you a small white lie.’

‘Which unfortunately has turned into a very large problem,’ David ground out.

Alex felt his heart sinking further by the minute. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that the first letter was not meant for Millie Ashton. I sat down to pen a love letter for you, but after a couple of pathetic attempts, I knew I couldn’t do it. So, I had a couple of glasses of whisky and ended up writing a letter to the woman
I love
. A letter in which I poured out my heart.’ He put a hand over his mouth and Alex saw tears form in his brother’s eyes. David shook his head as he fought to keep his composure. ‘I told her how much I love her and the hope I hold for a future with her as my wife. A letter filled with impossible dreams.’

David pinched his thumb and forefinger into the inner corners of his eyes. ‘A letter I addressed, but never signed. A letter I thought had made its way into the fire along with all the other failed attempts.’

‘Oh, David. Oh no,’ Alex whispered. ‘I picked it up off the floor, I thought it was —’

‘NO! You never thought anything, Alex. You just took my letter, sealed it and sent it off without giving it a second thought. And then you had the audacity to lie to me about it,’ David snapped. He drew his hand over his eyes, but when he took it away, more tears quickly replaced those he had wiped away.

‘But the footman I showed the letter to said it was addressed to Millie. That’s why I let him put it in the post,’ Alex pleaded.

‘Did he, Alex? Really? Tell me Alex, what did he say, exactly?’

Alex racked his brains, trying to recall the conversation three weeks earlier. After leaving David sleeping in the chair, he had found the head footman and handed him the letter to put in the morning’s post. The young man had checked it and confirmed the address.

‘Did he tell you it was addressed to a young lady in Mill Street?’ David asked, taking in a deep breath.

‘Yes,’ Alex replied, feeling the ground shifting under him.

David bent down and picked up his bag. ‘You may recall the Earl of Langham and his daughter live on Mill Street, five doors from where the Ashton family live. Clarice was the
lady
the footman was referring to when he read the name on the letter. So you signed my love letter, and then had it sent to the only woman I have ever loved. She now thinks you intend to marry her, and so does most of London society.’

Too stunned to respond, Alex could do nothing except watch, helpless, as David pushed past him. As he opened the front door, David looked back and said. ‘There is nothing you could say right now that would make any difference. As far as I am concerned, you have made this mess, now you can lie in it. If anyone calls for me, I will be at Strathmore House.’

‘But the house is closed up; the staff won’t be expecting any of the family for another couple of weeks,’ Alex stammered, in a vain attempt to stop his brother from leaving.

David nodded his head. ‘Yes, I know, but I would rather sleep under the Holland covers at home than here under the same roof as you. To be honest, the way I am feeling at the moment, the temptation to murder you in your bed is too strong for me to remain. You are on your own from now on, Alex. Good luck with extracting yourself from this bloody disaster; you are going to need it.’

David began to depart through the door, then stopped and marched quickly back to Alex. He brandished a clenched fist in Alex’s face. ‘And before you start to feel sorry for yourself, try standing in my boots for five minutes. Can you possibly begin to comprehend how this is for me? How soul-destroying it was for me to stand there and listen to our friends tell me how wonderful it was that my brother is about to marry the love of my life?’

He turned sharply on his heel, walked all the way through the door this time and slammed it loudly behind him as he went. Alex stood alone in the entrance and stared at the door.

He put his hands to his head. ‘Oh, Alex, you idiot!’ he whispered, sinking to his knees. He wrapped his arms around his body and hugged himself. With eyes tightly shut he rocked back and forth as the whole terrible reality of what he had done threatened to overwhelm him.

Everything now made perfect, horrible sense. Millie hated him for being a miserable two-faced liar. How could he claim to love her when he had declared himself to Clarice? He dare not think how she must have felt when she heard the news about the passionate love letter he had sent to another girl.

‘Is it any wonder she doesn’t want to know me?’ he moaned.

And as for poor Lady Clarice, she thought she was about to become the Marchioness of Brooke. That at least explained the odd encounter he had had with her earlier in the evening. He had supposedly written a wonderful love letter declaring his feelings for her, but instead of calling on her at the first opportunity when he returned to London, he had, to her mind, simply ignored her.

A cold emptiness formed in his stomach when he remembered how he had teased Clarice, and how the poor confused girl had walked away in tears. If she had been another of Lucy’s false friends, he could almost scrape himself a feeble excuse for his behaviour, but he could not in Lady Clarice’s case. Alex was one of only a handful of people David had trusted with the knowledge of his secret love, and now he had completely ruined everything for his brother. If he could not set this right, David would never forgive him.

He let out a cynical laugh. At least he now understood the cryptic comment Mr Ashton had made.

‘How the hell am I going to get out of this?’ he muttered.

He slowly got to his feet and unbuttoned his coat. There was no point in racing out into the night to chase after David; his brother had made it clear the last thing he needed from Alex right now was a heartfelt apology.

Coat in hand, he climbed the stairs and walked into the sitting room. The fire had been well stoked before they left and the room was warm and light in readiness for the Radley brothers to return and share their usual evening nightcap.

After throwing his coat over the back of a padded leather chair, he poured himself a large drink from the whisky decanter on the table beside the chair. He took a large swig of the drink and plopped down into the armchair. Staring into the fire, the enormity of what he had done washed over him, and he felt ever-increasing waves of despair. The anguish was almost too much to bear. With the decanter by his side, he proceeded to quietly drink himself into an unconscious state.

Chapter 18

When Grace arrived early the next morning, she found Millie still fast asleep in bed.

Every morning for weeks now, her mistress had made the trek across to Park Lane, and then all the way up to Oxford Street before returning home. But on this particular morning, nothing could rouse Millie from her bed.

‘Go away,’ was the first response Grace was able to evoke from Millie after several minutes of shaking the blankets. ‘But, Miss, it’s walking time. We are late,’ Grace replied.

Millie threw the covers down from over her face. ‘We are not walking this morning, Grace. I don’t feel very well. Please go downstairs and see what breakfast you can scratch up from Mrs Knowles. I will send for you when I am ready to get dressed. If anyone asks, tell them I am feeling poorly this morning.’ She pulled the blankets back up over face, leaving Grace to shrug her shoulders before leaving the room.

After the door closed, Millie pulled the blankets down to her neck and rolled over to face the window. It might have been heading towards summer, but London was still chilly at daybreak. She leapt out of bed and hurried to her dresser. In the top drawer, tucked inside a small bag, was a piece of paper on which were listed the departure dates of all India-bound ships for the next four months. She ran an eye over the list, wondering which of those ships she would board.

She folded the paper once more and put it securely away. The only thing she was missing was a husband prepared to give up England and take her home.

Climbing back into bed, she decided not to leave the house that morning. The risk of running into a certain young gentleman was too great. He might have made a tactical retreat at the reception, but she was under no illusion that Alex would suddenly give up and leave her alone.

She had managed to deal with him in a crowded ballroom with Charles by her side, but the prospect of encountering him on the street, with only her maid and a footman to protect her, filled her with dread. ‘I don’t know what he thinks he is playing at; he has made it clear he wishes to marry Lady Clarice, so he can forget about trying to make amends with me,’ she said to herself, and snuggled further down in the bed.

The Ashton family had arrived home in the early hours of the morning, they had been among the last to leave the gala reception. Mr Ashton had refused to leave until company staff had found the portrait of him painted just before he left for India and had it hung on a hook by the front door.

‘Stubborn man,’ she muttered under the blankets.

Of course, her father would still have risen from his bed early for work this morning, late night or not.

Millie closed her eyes, and decided she would sleep the morning away. ‘I will walk in the park this afternoon. If Alex comes near me, Charles can make good on his threat to punch him on the nose,’ she murmured, as she went back to sleep.

By late that afternoon, Alex could not decide which Greek tragedy his life resembled the most. If it was
Medea
, then Millie would be perfect in the role of the scorned woman, plotting vengeance against him. ‘I don’t recall Medea having a brother who could box,’ he muttered, as he strolled through the main gate of Hyde Park and joined the other members of the
ton
out for the daily promenade.

With the season now underway, the park was a crush of people all vying to see and be seen by everyone who was anyone. It took a lot of handshakes and polite small talk before he could finally steal away from the crowd and begin looking for Millie.

The instant he spied Lady Clarice and her friends heading in his direction, he turned and made a hurried dash for a cluster of walnut trees. He moved as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself. He did not need a repeat of the awkward encounter from the previous night. He still had no idea what he would say to Clarice now that he knew she had received the love letter.

As soon as he reached the trees, he hid behind a large one. Standing with his back to the tree trunk Alex tried to catch his breath. ‘Definitely the Sword of Damocles,’ he said aloud. ‘One false move and I am surely a dead man.’

‘That can be arranged,’ a voice replied.

He turned and ducked as David swung a half-hearted punch at his head. He was too quick for David to successfully land a punch on him.

David took a spot next to him and leaned against the tree. ‘Come to see how much more damage you can do, or are you content to rest on your laurels?’ he asked.

Alex saw the grey bags under his brother’s eyes. While he had slept the sleep of the inebriated, it was obvious David had found no such rest. ‘Did you get any sleep last night?’ Alex asked.

‘No. As it turns out, Holland covers are not the warmest things to sleep under,’ David replied, with just the right touch of guilt-inducing sarcasm. ‘Have you managed to resolve anything, or are you just here for the flora?’

Alex shook his head. ‘No, I was hoping to see Millie and try to talk to her. So far all I have done is shake hands with half of London and try to avoid your future intended.’

‘Lady Clarice is here?’

‘Who do you think I am hiding from behind this tree? Certainly not the Bishop of London,’ Alex replied. He had slept late, but his black mood had not improved.

David harrumphed. ‘No, but I couldn’t blame you if you did. If his Grace got wind that his favourite nephew might be in the marriage market he would have you and the first unsuspecting girl in front of him bound together as man and wife. Alex poked his head around the side of the tree. Clarice and her gaggle of friends were heading towards the park gates. Finally, he hoped his luck was on the turn.

‘The problem is, I am in the marriage market, but it has to be with the right girl. And unfortunately, at this moment, that particular girl appears to hold a fairly low opinion of me.’

David pushed off from the tree and began to walk away. Alex called out after him, ‘Aren’t you going to stay and help me?’

‘I told you last night, Alex: you are on your own. My days of pulling your sorry backside out of every hole you get into are over,’ David replied, waving his hand in farewell. ‘But if you are looking for the Ashtons, you might want to try over near the rose-bordered lawn.’

He turned and called out over his shoulder. ‘Oh, and by the way, I have stolen Mrs Philips, so you will have to fend for yourself for breakfast.’

Alex’s stomach rumbled as he watched David walk away. He prayed his older brother would turn around and come back. After the mess Alex had made of things, he counted himself lucky that David had bothered to seek him out and exchange a few civil words. With David’s dreams in tatters, Alex certainly didn’t deserve his brother’s good favour.

David joined a group of their mutual friends, and after exchanging greetings, Alex saw him walk with them out of the park and on to Park Lane. David was keeping true to his word – Alex would have to sort this out for himself.

He leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes. ‘Come on, Alex, you can do this, just find Millie and talk to her. Use the old Radley sweet smile and charm; girls have never been able to resist that combination,’ he muttered to himself. He pumped his fist. ‘Come on, Alexander the Great.’ He pushed himself away from the tree and after a quick check of his clothing, and a small prayer, he set off to find Millie.

As he headed towards the lawn, Alex continued to talk to himself in this encouraging manner. By the time he finally reached the other side of the rosebeds, he had convinced himself that he could win Millie over.

He caught sight of her sharing a laugh with Charles and a quartet of well-dressed young men. He bridled, feeling a twinge of something he recognised as jealousy. He had competition.

As he neared the merry gathering, she turned and the smile died on her lips. Their gazes locked together for a moment, before she tore hers away and turned her back on him.

‘What part of “push off” don’t you understand, Brooke?’ Charles Ashton sneered, as he stepped away from the group and stopped dead in front of Alex.

Alex gave a nod. ‘I would like to request a short audience with Miss Ashton. There has been a misunderstanding and I wish to clarify matters with her,’ he replied.

‘The only misunderstanding I am aware of is you thinking that I’m not serious about making good on my threat,’ Charles bit back.

Alex swallowed. ‘No, I understand perfectly well that you are an excellent pugilist and mean to harm me if given half the chance. That said, it does not change the fact that it is imperative for me to speak to your sister, and I will not leave until I have done so,’ he replied as calmly as the precarious situation he was in allowed.

Charles snorted. ‘All right, I shall ask my sister if she will speak with you. But if the answer is no, you must leave her in peace. Agreed?’

‘Agreed.’

Alex hoped Millie knew he would not take no for an answer, but still he was relieved to see Charles walk over to Millie and speak to her. As Charles put the case to his sister, she glanced in Alex’s direction and said in a loud enough voice for him to hear. ‘All right, I shall speak with him. I have a feeling that it is the only way he will get the message and leave me alone. I thought I had made my position perfectly clear last night, but some people obviously need to hear things twice.’

She left the group and walked slowly over to where Alex stood. He gave her what he hoped was his most charming smile, as she approached. Millie just scowled at him.

‘Millie,’ Alex said as she came to a stop several feet away. He bowed. She gave him half a nod in return.

‘Miss Ashton to you, Lord Brooke. You will address me in the correct social manner or this conversation is at an end. Am I clear?’ she snapped. She turned to leave, but as she did Alex reached out and took hold of her arm.

‘How can I call you Miss Ashton, when my nights are filled with thoughts of whispering your name as I look into your eyes?’ he replied.

She laughed and pulled her arm from his grasp. ‘What a silver-tongued snake you are, Lord Brooke. But you can save your lies for your future bride; your words are wasted on me.’

He blinked. This did not sound like the Millie he knew and loved. Something approaching a self-satisfied smile crossed her face.

‘But I came back for you,’ he finally replied. ‘I wasn’t lying to you that night when we kissed. I love you. I want to marry you.’

The smile vanished and Millie shook her head. Her lip quivered as she said in a low, menacing voice, full of venom, ‘Liar.’

He let out a frustrated sigh. ‘I am not lying to you, Millie. I know you didn’t take me seriously when I first told you how I felt, but I promise you I am telling the truth,’ he pleaded.

Millie stiffened and her nostrils flared. ‘As far as I am concerned, Lord Brooke, I think you are incapable of loving anyone other than yourself. You flirt and play games, but you would never seriously put your heart in any form of jeopardy.’

She took a deep breath and continued. ‘I must admit I was shocked and somewhat distressed to discover that you had sent a love letter to Clarice Langham, but of course it makes sense. She is a family friend, someone who can be relied upon to be a solid, uncomplicated wife for you.’

She looked down at her fingers as they twisted the cords of her reticule. ‘Though I think sending her that letter was the cruellest and most selfish thing you could have ever done. Giving her hope like that, all the while knowing that you will dash them to pieces once you are married.’

Alex stared at his boots.

Millie clenched her fists and as Alex raised his head, he saw the look of disdain in her eyes. ‘You don’t have an answer for that? Why am I not surprised that you hadn’t thought about anyone else’s feelings? I don’t suppose you saw Lady Clarice in tears late last evening? No, I expect you were off having fun with some other poor gullible girl.’

Millie bent down and picked up a stone from the driveway. ‘Here is your answer, Lord Brooke,’ she replied as she threw the stone hard at him, hitting him in the chest. He barely felt it; the pain in his heart greater than anything physical she could inflict.

‘You are a cad of the worst kind, Alex Radley,’ she continued, a hint of tears in her voice. ‘I feel nothing but utter pity for Clarice. Her days will be spent living her life at your beck and call, while at night she will lie awake wondering where you are and with whom. It gives me no satisfaction to know that your sister was right about you. She did try to warn me, but did I listen? No, I was like every other foolish girl in London: I allowed you to flirt with me and then fell in love with you. To quote the hymn, “I was blind but now I see.”’

She swallowed and stepped closer to Alex. When they were mere inches apart, she looked up into his face.
Only a fool could mistake her look for anything other than bitter disappointment
, thought Alex miserably. He searched her face and took in the deep blue of her eyes, which shimmered with tears. Her luscious lips, which he had so lovingly kissed, were set in a thin harsh line.

‘I think I have said all I need to at this juncture. As to what you might have to say to me, you can save your breath, because I am not interested.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Good day, Lord Brooke. I hope for your health’s sake you take this as a final warning. In future I shall allow my brother’s fists to do the talking for me.’

She turned and strode back to the small group who stood watching and waiting for her to return. Taking Charles’s arm she led her select group of friends toward the main gate of the park.

Alex shook his head and sighed. His efforts to speak to Millie were getting him nowhere. She didn’t want to hear him out, and if he were honest, apart from asking her forgiveness, he didn’t know what else he could say to her. Telling her the truth was a gamble he was not prepared to make. And then there was the problem of Lady Clarice.

‘There has to be another way,’ he muttered.

With his hands in his pockets he followed Millie and her admirers out of the park. Once they were out on Park Lane, Millie and her friends headed in the direction of the nearby cafés, while Alex crossed over and made his way towards Duke Street.

Other books

Like Sweet Potato Pie by Spinola, Jennifer Rogers
His Black Wings by Astrid Yrigollen
Genesis: Falling Angel by Keily Arnold
Life Is A Foreign Language by Rayne E. Golay