Slave to the Night (The Brotherhood Series, Book 2) (10 page)

Feeling a little bolder she said, "I am using a part of my anatomy coupled with honest sentiment to incite a genuine reaction. What was it that touched you? Was it the feel of my hand or hearing the emotion behind the gesture?"

He swallowed visibly. "Both."

"Well, I think that proves my point, don't you? And I must say, I find you far more appealing when you speak from the heart."

A sinful smile touched his lips. "Perhaps I should try it more often."

Grace nodded. "I think you should."

They simply stared at each other for a moment and she suddenly wondered what it would feel like to be held in his arms, to feel his lips move over hers with genuine affection. Henry Denton had rarely kissed her. Even when inclined, it had amounted to nothing more than a peck on her cheek or the faintest touch to the top of her head.

Anger threatened to flare.

Why did everything always come back to her feelings about Henry?

Perhaps she would never recover from the hurt and betrayal. Was every thought and action to be overshadowed by awful past experiences?

"While your bawdy banter always leaves me cold," she said playfully, pushing all other feelings aside, "your honest reaction leaves me wondering if your skin tastes of sandalwood. If, despite your licentious nature, your lips are capable of moving softly and tenderly."

She could only surmise that her frustration with Henry had caused her to speak so boldly.

"Why spend your time wondering?" His wicked emerald gaze lingered on her lips. "Why not put me to the test? Use me to satisfy your curiosity."

Grace had expected the logical part of her brain to dismiss the idea as ludicrous, yet she found herself intrigued by Elliot Markham.

"I do not think it would do much for your reputation to be seen cavorting with Caroline Rosemond."

"I would not be cavorting with Caroline Rosemond. I would be cavorting with you, Grace. I would be kissing you, sweetly, gently, savouring every single second."

Excitement raced through her. A blazing fire settled hot and heavy between her thighs. The feeling was strange to her. She felt a little dizzy, as though she'd drunk too much punch at Christmas. And she was in danger of becoming lost in the moment.

"Not here," she said, and the words came out more like a gasp.

"Where then?" His chest rose and fell more rapidly as he moistened his lips.

For some obscure reason, she imagined her bed at home in Cobham. Don't think about Henry, she thought, repeating the words over and over in her mind. But he was there again, hot and sweaty, heaving above her as she lay like a cold slab of marble, wanting to cry.

"I can't." She bit down on her trembling lip, aware of his look of confusion.

There was something wrong with her.

She was not like other women.

When he shook his head, she expected him to shout, to berate her for her inadequacy. "We need to get you home," he said, his tone revealing his frustration. "Evelyn and Alexander will be expecting us. We can talk about Evelyn's theory regarding the notes in the diary and decide what we should do next."

Her heart blossomed at his reaction. He had not made her feel awkward or ashamed.

"I need to use the retiring room." It would give her a moment to compose herself.

"I'll wait for you here."

She gave him a weak smile and headed down the hall to the room reserved for ladies to attend to their needs.

The room appeared to be a less formal drawing room; the numerous dressing screens made it seem small and compact. The air was heavy with the sickly sweet smell of a variety of perfumes. She nodded to the two ladies standing in front of the large gilt mirror, only aware of their interest in her when she heard one of them call out her name.

"Miss Rosemond."

Grace groaned inwardly. She was tired of acting, tired of being anything other than herself. But she turned and smiled.

"Good evening," was all she could think to say.

One of the ladies stepped forward, her ebony ringlets framing a petite porcelain-white face. "May I offer my condolences on the terrible circumstance you recently found yourself in." Her tone lacked the sincerity her words conveyed and Grace grew suspicious of her motives. What terrible circumstance was she referring to?

"Thank you," Grace replied, sensing the woman's desperation to reveal all she knew.

"I'm afraid there were a few who witnessed Lord Barrington's poor pugilistic skills." The lady's dark brown eyes scanned her face, focused on the mole on her cheek as if it was a rare artefact in a museum. There was something distrusting about her countenance. Every look was more of an examination, an assessment.

"Hopefully, the gentleman understands I have no wish to entertain him further."

Grace tried to be as vague as possible.

The lady smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. "Lord Barrington is an oaf." She leaned forward and whispered, "But do tell all. I am curious to know of Lord Markham's involvement. Some say he is smitten with you."

"Lord Markham is not the sort of man to keep a lover, as I am sure you're aware." Grace refused to offer anything more. "And
smitten
is a word foreign to his vocabulary."

Grace had no idea how Caroline would react in conversation with women of such quality. Would a courtesan converse with well-bred ladies? In doing so, had she unwittingly revealed her secret?

"If you will excuse me," Grace said and without further comment left the room.

"Are you ready?" Lord Markham took a few steps towards her.

"Just wait a moment. Pretend we are talking about something. I want you to watch the door and tell me who the lady is with the ebony ringlets."

"Why?" A frown marred his brow while his tone carried a hint of concern.

"Perhaps I'm paranoid. Perhaps the events of the last few days have addled my already weary brain. But I believe there is a lady in the retiring room who knows I am not Caroline. I have a feeling she knew so before even speaking to me."

"Well, ladies are far more astute than gentlemen when it comes to noticing such things."

Grace heard the door open behind her and watched Lord Markham take a discreet peek over her shoulder.

"It's Lady Sudley," he continued. "And I do not mean any disrespect when I say this, but a lady of her standing would usually snub the likes of Caroline Rosemond."

"I am not offended," she said with a sigh. "In the last few days, I seem to have grown accustomed to hearing slanderous remarks about my sister. Although I don't suppose they can be called slanderous when they're true."

Lord Markham offered an empathetic smile but did not contradict her. "There is a difference between suspecting you're not Caroline and knowing so. The latter implies some level of involvement."

"We will talk about Evelyn's theory and then decide what to do tomorrow." Tonight, she was done with thinking. She needed a clear head if she was to help Caroline.

He removed his pocket watch and glanced at the time. "I said we would meet Alexander and Evelyn outside. We had better make our apologies and leave."

She allowed him to escort her back to Evelyn's house on Duke Street. In the small confines of his carriage, she was conscious of him sitting in such close proximity, and she felt safe, protected. Evelyn sat next to her husband, smiling as her gaze shifted between them.

But one terrifying thought overshadowed all others.

Her fears had nothing to do with Caroline or Lady Sudley or whatever devious schemes were at work. The closer she became to Lord Markham, the more she knew that Henry Denton's presence still lingered within her. It tainted her blood, contaminated her memories, poisoned her future.

She had to find a way to be free of him.

She had to find a way to cleanse her soul.

Chapter 9

The constant rocking of his carriage on the uneven road did little to settle Elliot's chaotic mind.

He had tried to listen to Grace's thoughts; he had tried to determine what it was that troubled her so deeply. Henry Denton's name had drifted into his mind, accompanied by feelings of anguish, loneliness and pain. The sins of a selfish husband had left a permanent scar, which he feared was still somewhat raw.

In his mind, he imagined putting a comforting arm around her shoulder, drawing her into his chest where it was warm, safe.

Elliot had never claimed to be an honourable man, not when it came to his sexual appetite. Indeed, half of him could think of nothing other than burying himself deep inside Grace Denton. To sate a physical need. To satisfy a curiosity.

Half of him wanted to offer his protection, to ease her fears, make her happy.

That's the part that terrified him, the part he struggled to understand.

Evelyn cleared her throat. "If you're not too tired, we could look through your sister's diary, and I could tell you more about my theory."

"No," Grace said with a sigh. "I'm not tired."

Elliot cast Grace a sideways glance and knew from her demeanour that she was simply being polite. The last few days must have taken their toll. There were times when she appeared so confident, so controlled and determined. But the times when she appeared lost, a little fragile and broken seemed to manifest more frequently as the hours passed.

Of course, she only had a matter of days to uncover the mystery surrounding Caroline Rosemond's disappearance. He did not envy her the task of explaining her sister's demise to her mother.

And he had not helped matters. His negligence had forced her to put herself at risk tonight.

"I think we should focus all our efforts on helping Mrs. Denton discover what has happened to Miss Rosemond," he said with a level of determination he rarely expressed.

Alexander raised a brow. "Then we will need to be open and honest. We will need a structured plan, follow some logical order." He focused his attention on Grace. "Forgive me, but you cannot go barging into ballrooms in the hope someone will unwittingly reveal information."

"I'm sure she only did what she thought best," Elliot said feeling the need to come to her defence. He could berate her for her folly, but he'd be damned if anyone else could.

"Lord Hale is right," Grace said fiddling with her fingers in her lap. "I was angry and frustrated, although the evening wasn't entirely wasted."

The carriage rumbled to a halt outside the house on Duke Street.

"Let's continue our conversation in the parlour," Evelyn added before turning to Grace. "Would you mind if we all examined the diary? I know you allowed me to flick through while Katie dressed your hair, but if you'd rather we—"

"No, it's fine. We need to work together. Finding Caroline is what's important."

There was the faintest trace of resentment in Grace's words, and Elliot wondered if she had spent her whole life pandering to her sister's whims and demands. If they discovered her sister had been gallivanting off on some wild jaunt, Elliot would string her up from a tree on the common and leave her as food for the crows.

As they made their way inside, he put his hand on Alexander's arm causing him to stop abruptly. "You've blood here I assume? I am in need of something soothing to drink."

He inclined his head. "Wait for us in the parlour, Evelyn. We will be but a few minutes."

They moved into the drawing room and Alexander rang the bell. "Is this just about blood?" he asked dubiously. "I have a suspicion it's about Mrs. Denton."

"I do need a drink. And I do need to ask you something. But first let me apologise for leaving Grace alone here. I did not expect it to be such an inconvenience."

"It's not that I didn't want to help you. You must understand, my motives are purely selfish. I enjoy being alone with Evelyn and I get somewhat angry and frustrated when things don't go to plan."

There was a light rap on the door and Mrs. Shaw scuttled in. "Yes, my lord?"

"Could you bring us both some refreshment? We'll drink in here. Thank you, Mrs. Shaw."

"Right you are, my lord." The old woman gave a merry nod and waddled away.

"I understand," Elliot said. "I do not suppose this was how you envisaged spending the first week of married life."

"As always, Evelyn has the right of it. Without your help, we might not be married. So, I promise to stop sulking and to concentrate my efforts in helping Mrs. Denton. Besides, the sooner we solve the mystery, the sooner I can take Evelyn home to Hampshire."

Elliot chuckled. He was beginning to see the attraction of devoting all one's time and effort to one woman, and as Mrs. Shaw returned with their drinks, he said, "How did you feel in the beginning? How did you feel when you first met Evelyn?"

Alexander gestured to the chair, and they both sat down and swallowed a mouthful of blood. "Confused. I concentrated all my efforts on being angry. It was a way of suppressing the need she roused in me. I struggled to fight the attraction. I think you know the rest."

"Was it a purely physical attraction?" He asked because he feared his fascination with Grace went beyond sexual gratification and the thought of navigating unchartered waters unnerved him.