Lost to the Night (The Brotherhood Series, Book 1) (6 page)

The Earl of Hale had sketched the most beautiful portrait of her. She was sitting on the bank of a river filled with water lilies, the reflection of the moon shimmering on its mirrored surface. She wore a sleeveless dress, her hair cascading in ripples over bare shoulders. He’d captured her unusually wide eyes to perfection, although her lips appeared fuller, more sensual. There was something magical about the scene, something ethereal.

Evelyn swung around to look at him but could find no words to express the strange feeling that consumed her.

The earl stood and stared in a moment of frozen stasis, yet she sensed his embarrassment. For the first time since meeting him, she thought she saw something more than frustration and irritation flashing in his eyes.

She had no notion how long they stood in stupefied silence, staring deep into each other’s eyes. But a loud rap on the door broke the spell.

The door opened a fraction, and Mrs. Shaw popped her head around. “Forgive me, my lord, but Mr. Sutherby has arrived.”

His anger surfaced immediately. “Well, he can bloody well wait. I told him to come at five. Is the man so stupid he cannot read?”

“I’ve put them in the drawing room. What with it being so overcast today, it will be the most suitable place.”

“Them?”

“The gentleman’s brought his sister with him.”

The earl dragged the palm of his hand down his face and cursed again. “We’ll be along in a moment.”

Mrs. Shaw left them, and the earl nodded to the easel. “I often sketch when I’ve nothing else better to do,” he said, his tone frosty.

Evelyn suppressed a smile. Nothing he could say could demean the effort it had taken to capture her likeness or the fact that he had chosen her as his subject. This tortured, complicated man was certainly an enigma.

Evelyn walked towards the door. She stopped in front of him and placed her hand lightly on his sleeve. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “So beautiful it makes me want to cry.”

He swallowed visibly before replacing his mask of indifference. “I’m not the sort who enjoys displays of sentimentality. But rest assured, the kindest, most handsome man in all of England has come to your rescue.”

Evelyn pulled her hand away, but the frisson of excitement the connection stirred still coursed through her body. “People are not always what they seem, my lord,” she said. “I’ve heard it said that the coldest of men often hide the biggest heart.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Miss Bromwell. The coldest men often have no heart.”

Chapter 6

Evelyn’s heart pounded in her chest as she walked across the hall towards the drawing room. The inevitable day had come. The day when she would have to confront her feelings for Mr. Sutherby. Although she believed the rapid beating had more to do with the Earl of Hale’s hot palm, placed lightly at the small of her back to guide her towards the desired room. Even when his hand fell to his side, she could feel the imprint searing her skin like a branding iron.

“My dear, Miss Bromwell.” Mr. Sutherby jumped from his seat as though the padding was on fire, his mop of fair hair falling forward as he rushed to take her hands in his. He brought them to his mouth and brushed his clammy lips across her bare skin. “You look so weak, so frightfully pale. What a horrendous time you’ve had. We’ve been so worried, haven’t we, Charlotte?”

“Indeed, we have hardly slept a wink,” said the golden-haired beauty coming to stand at his side.

Dressed impeccably in a fashionable fawn silk gown and tucker, Charlotte Sutherby made Evelyn feel positively frumpish in her plain muslin dress. Vanity was a trait she despised yet she suddenly wished she’d spent more time on her appearance.

“Allow me to introduce my sister, Charlotte.” Mr. Sutherby gestured to the lady as she offered a demure curtsy.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Evelyn said, “If only our first meeting could have been under less harrowing circumstances.”

“When we heard what had happened to you, Miss Bromwell, we were aghast,” Charlotte said clutching her hands to her chest.

Evelyn could feel the earl’s penetrating gaze boring into her back. Hostility hung in the air like a guillotine, waiting for the opportune moment to come crashing down on its victim.

“Please, you must call me Evelyn,” she said, dismissing the earl’s sudden intake of breath. “Allow me to introduce you both to our generous host, the Earl of Hale.”

The Sutherby siblings’ respectful greeting was met with a frown severe enough to silence a pack of howling dogs.

“When I gave instructions to call at five, I meant it,” the earl said sharply. “I cannot abide shoddy manners.”

Mr. Sutherby’s sky-blue eyes flashed with surprise and Miss Sutherby’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she stepped forward.

“Surely you can forgive this one misdemeanour, my lord.” She batted her lashes in such a salacious manner that Evelyn felt a tiny stab of jealousy upon anticipating the earl’s excited reaction.

“No, I’m afraid I can’t,” he said, oblivious to the woman’s charms. “When I invite someone to my home, I expect them to pay me the respect of arriving on time.”

Mrs. Shaw was right. The earl seemed determined to ensure they never called upon him again.

Rather than challenge the earl by using the unfortunate accident as an excuse, Mr. Sutherby offered his usual affable smile. “You’re right. Forgive our rudeness, my lord. It will not happen again.”

The earl inclined his head in response. “I should think not, as you’ll have no need to call again.”

An uncomfortable silence ensued and Evelyn turned to the earl and whispered through gritted teeth, “Are you going to offer them tea?”

He shrugged in response. “I don’t drink tea,” he said loud enough for them to hear. “This is not a social call, which is the only reason I’ve let them stay.”

Evelyn waited for Mr. Sutherby to challenge the earl for his coarse manner and for showing his sister such disrespect, but the man said nothing. Timidity was not a quality she desired in anyone, let alone a man destined to be her husband. No lady could possibly be happy on the arm of a coward.

“There is no need to be so rude,” Evelyn said determined to defend them. “You know why they’re here. And I’m certain they have no intention of ever daring to turn up uninvited.”

His gaze searched her face and his mouth curled up in response. “Then they may sit while Mrs. Shaw prepares your aunt for the journey.”

Mr. Sutherby should have told him to go to the devil. He should have stormed out to wait for her in his carriage. Instead, both brother and sister sat down near the window and began conversing about the appalling weather. Evelyn sat with them and relayed details of the accident while the earl sat in the farthest corner of the room, shrouded in the shadows.

Evelyn tried to concentrate on the conversation, but her attention was drawn to the brooding figure in the corner. Surprisingly, she found she preferred his scathing honesty to Mr. Sutherby’s placid temperament. The gentlemen were equally as handsome. However, the earl’s features were more rugged, more intriguing, reflecting the mysteriousness of the night, as opposed to Mr. Sutherby’s sunny disposition.

You don’t love him.

The words drifted through her mind without provocation and no matter how hard she tried she could not dismiss them. Whenever Mr. Sutherby spoke, they popped into her head again, and she felt relieved when Mrs. Shaw entered to say her aunt was ready to depart.

Their luggage had been loaded, and Aunt Beatrice helped up into the carriage. The Sutherbys thanked the earl for his hospitality, but his cold reply sent them scurrying into their conveyance like mice fleeing a cat’s claws.

“Thank you for helping my aunt,” Evelyn said. The earl refused to see her to the door, and so they hung back in the dark hallway. “I’m sorry if I made you feel that you had no other choice.”

“I do not dwell on the past. It is done with, forgotten.” He stepped closer, took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and stared into her eyes. “You may despise my blunt approach, but honesty delivers a short, sharp blow. To live a lie causes a constant pain that lasts a lifetime. Remember those words when you listen to what your kind, affable gentleman has to say.”

How did he know what she was thinking? How was he so perceptive to her needs? How was he able to see into her soul and understand her fears and doubts? She had an urge to reach out to him, too, to offer comfort. But she wouldn’t know where to begin.

Without another word — without a parting greeting or a promise to meet again — he dropped his hand and walked away from her, his sudden absence creating an empty feeling she could not explain.

Mrs. Shaw was standing near the carriage door, waiting to wave them off. “Now, you mind how you go,” she said. “I’ve packed a tincture for your aunt that should help take down the swelling. Just a spoonful before bed should suffice, and she’ll be as sturdy as a butcher’s block in no time.”

Evelyn hugged the old woman. “He’s lucky to have you,” she said nodding towards the house. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for us.”

Mrs. Shaw batted Evelyn’s arm. “You’ll be making an old woman sob on the doorstep if you carry on like that.”

Evelyn smiled and moved to open the carriage door. She stopped and turned back to the housekeeper. “I know his title, but what’s his name? He never told us and he’s not the sort of man one asks.”

Mrs. Shaw returned her smile and then peeked back over her shoulder. “It’s Alexander Cole.”

Alexander Cole.

The name sounded familiar to her. A warm feeling flooded her chest as she repeated the words and she wondered what it would be like to be on such intimate terms with him that his given name would fall so gently from her lips.

Evelyn glanced up at the array of windows covering the facade, sensing his presence lingering in the shadows but seeing nothing. Despite everything he said and did, she felt comfortable at Stony Cross. Her mind was engaged with fanciful notions of tending the garden, of restoring it to its former glory. In her dreams, the sound of laughter and gaiety would echo through the cold, dark passages and Alexander Cole would smile not frown.

With a loud snort, she shook her head. Perhaps the accident had left her brain swollen, too tender. Perhaps she was desperately trying to cling onto any other thought rather than one involving her betrothal to Mr. Sutherby.

Alexander stood away from the window. As he listened to the sound of the carriage rattling down the drive, he tried to come to terms with the range of conflicting emotions plaguing him.

The first, most shocking discovery was that he wanted Miss Bromwell to stay.

Perhaps it had something to do with his mistrust of the Sutherbys. They appeared exactly as Miss Bromwell described: kind, friendly, well-mannered. Yet he had picked up threads of their thoughts, small fragments of feeling suggesting a discord between their words and their motives. In that respect, Charlotte Sutherby reminded him of the golden-haired devil who’d lured him away from the tavern. Even when Miss Sutherby flashed a coy smile and attempted to soothe him with her pretty eyes, he felt disdain burn in his belly.

He felt the same way about her brother. He couldn’t imagine the fiery-tempered Miss Bromwell being happy with a man like Mr. Sutherby. Maybe it was the reason his mind roused murderous thoughts when the gentleman brought Miss Bromwell’s bare hands to his lips.

Luckily, he’d fed his craving. Still, he contemplated ripping out their throats with his teeth even though the thought of drinking their tainted blood made him nauseous.

The next surge of emotion occurred when he’d heard her name — Evelyn — though he preferred to think of her as Eve. A daughter of God lured into sin by the Devil’s own beast. The thought conjured a series of lascivious images to flood his mind; her soft breasts squashed against his chest, her tongue dancing dangerously with his. Indeed, for the first time in two years, his cock had grown so hard he almost felt human, and he’d been forced to sit as far away from her in a bid to dampen his desire.

That thought led to another emotion, one far more damning — he actually cared what happened to her. It was the only logical conclusion he could draw from the tight feeling in his chest, from the stone-like lump in his throat. He’d thought all human emotions lost to him, buried beneath a solid block of ice. But he’d sensed the cracks appearing, felt the plates shift under his feet.

Perhaps Miss Bromwell was to be his salvation.

Although she truly would despise him when she knew what he was.

Mrs. Shaw’s discreet cough disturbed him.

“They’ve gone, my lord,” she said hovering at his side, “and Peter has followed them down to lock the gates. There’ll be no more disturbances.”

Alexander turned to face her and raised a brow. He had known the woman his whole life and knew there was something hanging on the tip of her tongue waiting for permission to burst out.

“You may say what you will, but do not expect a reply.”

She pursed her lips and then took a deep breath. “I know what you say about being in company, but you’ve spent a day with Miss Bromwell and survived. I’m sure if you started going about in society you could control your urges.”