To Seduce an Earl (34 page)

Was he quite serious? “No offense, but you should be lucky I haven’t hit you by now.”

He 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?”

“I couldn’t let him ruin you,” her voice was muffled against Grace’s shoulder.

Grace pulled back, looking down into her sister’s upturned face. A pretty face on the verge of becoming beautiful. “He won’t. No one will be ruined. We will find a way out of this situation.”

Patience nodded, giving Grace a wavering smile, but it was obvious even to Grace, her sister didn’t believe the lie.

********

Alex slouched over the scarred, wooden table, staring into the amber ale inside his mug. Two hours later his clothes were still damp from the rain, but he had made no move to stand by the fireplace in the pub. It didn’t matter that it was the only clothing he owned, nor that he had just spent his last pence on his third cup of ale. Nothing mattered.

He had nowhere to go. He had no money. He had nothing.

He deserved nothing. A common whore. Dirty. Without soul. How he wished he could tear the skin from his own body. Be free of his sin. Be free of this life.

He could return to Lady Lavender. Perhaps he would. Yet, he couldn’t seem to stand and leave. Only three other men sat in the place, all slouched, all staring at nothing in particular. All lost.

And he was lost without Grace.

Grace.

How he wanted to go to her. How he wanted her for his own, to make him smile, to make him laugh, to make him believe once more.

Grace.

His hands curled against that worn table. Hardening his heart, he pushed back and stood. He could not ruin her. He wouldn’t. She deserved more than what he could offer and he could offer nothing. He’d been ridiculous to think he’d return to his old life and all would be forgiven.

Alex turned to leave. The fist came out of nowhere. Hard knuckles connected with his chin and propelled him backward. He hit the table, the edge digging painfully into his back. Before he could regain his bearings, hands gripped his shirt and jerked him forward. Two men grabbed his arms, holding him immobile, while another man stood before Alex, wavering in and out of focus like a vague dream. Alex shook his head, fuzzy with an ale induced haze.

“You’ll pay, you scum.”

The familiar voice sent hatred pulsing through his blood.

Rodrick.

Alex growled low in his throat and focused on the dandy he despised. Anger like he’d never known poured through him, simmering, bubbling in his veins. He might not be able to punish Ophelia or his parents, but he sure as hell could do some damage to this arse. Alex jerked forward, freeing his right arm. With a quick jab he slammed his fist into Rodrick’s gut.

The man stumbled back, gasping for breath.
 

“He’s a fighter,” John said, stepping into view. The bastard was hiding behind Rodrick. “You stay away from my sister,” John said, but in his eyes, Alex saw the truth. The man was scared. Alex shoved his hand into the man’s chest, sending him flying back into the table. John cried out, stumbling to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs.

Alex didn’t have time to gloat. Firm fingers bit into his biceps, jerking his arms behind his back. Alex growled, struggling to regain his freedom. None of the few patrons offered any help. Most didn’t even look up from their mugs. The owner was worse, glancing away when Alex met his gaze.

“I’ll kill you,” Alex growled, meaning every word.

A burlap bag was thrown over his head, musty and dirty from use. Rough rope was twisted around his wrists, pulling his arms painfully behind his back.

“Outside with ye,” the pub owner finally growled.

Rodrick’s men jerked him forward. Alex stumbled and would have fallen to his knees if they hadn’t been holding him upright. Shuffling, he forced his instincts to become alert. How many were there?

“We’ll be seen,” John grumbled from somewhere ahead.

“Don’t be an idiot. No one will interfere,” Rodrick snapped back.
 

Rodrick, John, and the two dragging him forward. Cold air hit his exposed hands and he could hear the muffled sound of carriages on cobbled stone. They were outside, but no one in this part of town would assist him. They would not get involved, especially since Rodrick was obviously a lord.

From somewhere near a horse snorted. Hands shoved him forward. Alex was tossed into what he assumed was a carriage. He fell to the floor with a muffled grunt. Someone climbed in beside him. Rodrick, for he could smell his sandalwood cologne. Alex’s legs were shoved inside, the door closed with a thump. It all happened within moments. Before he could react, the carriage jerked forward.
 

For a heartbeat, he merely lay there, his breathing harsh and warm against the rough bag. Suddenly, hands gripped his upper arms and jerked him up onto a soft seat. Alex sat stiffly, waiting. He knew there were others in the carriage with him for he could hear their breathing, but wasn’t sure how many.

“We have something to discuss,” Rodrick said from across the carriage.

Alex’s lips lifted into a snarl. How he wanted to kill the man.

“You were hired to do a job,” the dandy continued. “And that was to prepare Grace… for me. Somewhere along the way, you seemed to think you could actually have her as your own. I don’t know if you’re toying with her, or if you’re serious, but it will end now.”

Had Rodrick sent Grace to Lady Lavender’s? Someone grunted beside him. Someone smelling of stale beer and regret.

John, Grace’s stepbrother, most likely.

“And what if I tell you to fuck off?” Alex hissed. His voice was muffled, but he knew they heard him all the same.

There was a soft rustle as someone moved. Fingers gripped the burlap sack and jerked it from his head, pulling his hair in the process. Alex glared at Rodrick, aware that John sat cowering in the corner next to him.

Rodrick dropped the sack to the floor. “Do you think anyone will notice if you disappear?”

Alex didn’t respond. He knew where Rodrick was headed with his statement and he wouldn’t take the bait.
 

“Perhaps your Lady Ophelia might take up the search for a day or two, but your disappearance would not alarm Scotland Yard.”

Rodrick leaned forward, a smirk marring his face. Alex couldn’t quite help himself. With a growl, he jerked his head forward, slamming his forehead against the man’s nose.

“Shite!” Rodrick cried out, falling back.

“Lord,” John muttered, tapping on the roof of the carriage with frantic movements.

The vehicle slowed, but Alex was barely aware, he was taking too much glee in the site of blood running down Rodrick’s lips and chin. The carriage stopped and the door was ripped open.

John was the first to leave, stumbling outside as if his coattails were on fire. Rodrick, who had managed to find a handkerchief and was holding it to his injured nose, followed. Left without assistance, Alex hopped outside, grinning for the first time that night. John lifted his arm, a pistol clenched in his hands. Alex kept his grin in place, not daring to show weakness. The idiot was trembling so hard, Alex wouldn’t be surprised if he shot him by accident.

“You will leave Grace alone,” Rodrick demanded, his voice muffled behind the handkerchief.

“Why, will you marry her?” Alex jeered. “Live happily ever after?”

John shifted, glancing at the ground. Certainly a suspicious movement. What were they up to?

Rodrick snarled. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Alex jerked his gaze from John to Rodrick. Something was wrong, horribly wrong. His gaze went to John once more. “He is going to marry your sister, isn’t he?”

“Rodrick doesn’t wish to marry,” John mumbled.
 

But by the way the man was avoiding his gaze, Alex knew there was more to the tale. “What does he wish to do then?”

Rodrick grabbed the lapels of Alex’s jacket and jerked him forward. The man’s pretty face was smeared with blood. “Grace will become my mistress. I’ll use her, and she’ll enjoy it and I can thank you for preparing her.”

Alex saw red. He lifted his knee, hitting Rodrick between the legs. Rodrick gasped and stumbled back into a rock wall. Frantic, Alex turned toward John.

“You’ll do this? Allow your sister to be used?”

“Fuck off,” John muttered.

Alex gritted his teeth. He’d kill them. He’d kill them both.

Surely Grace hadn’t agreed to this. Yet… yet he knew Grace would do anything for her mother and sister. No, he wouldn’t allow her to sell herself as he had. He’d kill her brother and Rodrick first, even if it meant he’d hang in prison.

“You will stay away from my mistress.” Rodrick shoved his fist into Alex’s gut. Pain rippled through his body, adding coal to his anger. Alex stumbled back. John grabbed his arms, holding him immobile as Alex gasped for air.

Finding courage now that Alex was immobile, Rodrick stepped closer, smirking. “Shall we mess up those pretty-boy features of yours?”

Alex hadn’t time to prepare. The man hit him in the face, the knuckles connecting with the area under his eye so hard, Alex heard the skin split. His head jerked back, hitting John in the chin. The sting gave way to wet warmth as blood dripped down his cheek.

“Now for the nose.”

“You’ll stop now, or you’ll regret it,
my lord,
” James’ familiar voice was surprising and welcome. John’s hold loosened.

Rodrick narrowed his eyes, studying his opponent as James strolled from the shadows and into the light of the streetlamp. He was dressed just as richly as Rodrick and Alex knew the man was trying to decipher James’ identity. Perhaps Rodrick wouldn’t fear James, but he would fear Ophelia’s men who stood behind him.
 

“Well, well.” Rodrick quirked a brow. “You have friends. How sweet.”

“Friends who know how to fight, friends who own pistols,” James said.

As grateful as Alex was, he knew James wasn’t there to help, merely to protect Lady Lavender’s property. John dropped his hold completely and stepped away. The coward knew when to flee. He didn’t even look back as he jumped into the carriage.

Rodrick glared at Alex, weighing his choices. “Stay away from her.”

“Sod off,” Alex muttered.

He hesitated as if he wanted to say more, but instead he strolled to the carriage an easy gait that belied the fear he’d seen in the dandy’s eyes.

“She sent you to find her property,” Alex said, watching the carriage as it jerked to life and disappeared around the corner. With Rodrick’s absence, he had to focus his anger somewhere and James would make a lovely target.
 

James reached forward, using a knife to cut Alex’s biddings. “She was worried.”

Alex released a harsh laugh and slumped back against the brick wall of a building. How had his life become so utterly ridiculous? If he returned to Lady Lavender he would die a slow, torturous death, his soul crumbling from the inside. Yet, why leave when he had nothing? Was nothing? He slid down the wall until his arse hit the dirt. He felt numb, cold, alone.