Gideon stepped into the hall. “Go to her.”
The thought was so ridiculous Alex almost laughed. “You know as well as I that escape is practically impossible. Ophelia would never allow it.”
Gideon shrugged, completely unconcerned. “There’s always a way. I’ll create a diversion while you escape.”
Hope and determination swelled within. Gideon couldn’t be serious. The man wouldn’t truly help him, would he? “How?”
Gideon grinned an evil grin. “Fire works wonders. Just give me ten minutes…”
It was all he needed to hear. Alex was out the door, brushing by Gideon before the man had finished his sentence.
********
Hot one moment, cold the next.
That was how Grace thought of Alex.
He seemed to be attracted to her, yet was constantly pushing her away. Was he purposefully attempting to drive her mad? She closed her bedroom door and leaned against the hard, unforgiving panel. The hearth was cold, but coal was expensive and Mama and Patience needed it more than she.
Her rock and mineral collections sat upon the mantel, the crystal pieces sparkling under the low lamplight. A piece of clear quartz she’d found with Papa while on a walk. A palm sized specimen of dolomite she’d found with her father while on their only visit to Ireland. A fossilized shell Mama had picked up while walking along the beach. A useless collection worth but a pittance, but pieces worth so much more than money.
Only a small lantern glowed softly upon the bedside table, not daring to reach the shadows in the corners. She frowned. Had she forgotten to extinguish the light? She hadn’t remembered lighting a lantern.
Exhausted, she moved across the worn floorboards, floor bare and cold, for the carpet had been sold long ago. Soon they’d run out of objects to trade and then what? At the windows, she nudged aside the curtains and looked out upon the streets of London. Raindrops trailed down the glass. The lanes were empty, the damp cobbles glistening under gas lamps. The weather had kept most at home. Warm, in their beds, or perhaps having lazy, family meals, laughing and chatting over supper. She remembered a past with happy chatter and family adoration. A time before Papa had died.
What would Papa think of Alex? He would like the man. She was sure he would. His tendency to laugh and smile. The way he jested. They’d be friends, if not… well, if not for the fact that Alex worked for Lady Lavender. Would Papa understand the reason for the man’s actions? Would he forgive his transgressions? Perhaps not. Even Papa had had his limits. So why, then, did she find it so easy to forget what Alex did?
She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool glass. Because… because she loved Alex. She could admit that, at least to herself. When a woman was in love, Mama had said, she could overlook many, many things.
How embarrassed she’d been during their first meetings. Ashamed that she could be attracted to such a man. And then… then he had smiled at her and the entire world seemed brighter, life seemed worthwhile. Perhaps she should be ashamed of her feelings, but she wasn’t.
She was attracted to Alex. Desperately. She dreamt of him. She wanted him. Perhaps she would even sell her soul to be with him. She rested her fingertips to the cold glass.
Where was he this eve? Was he with another woman? Just the thought sent a sharp pang of jealousy rippling through her chest…squeezing her heart painfully.
Tears of frustration burned her eyes. Grace bit her lower lip to keep from crying. She wanted Alex for her own. But would he ever want her in the same manner? Would his feelings for her ever supersede his fears of life?
Graced fisted her hands against the glass window. “Damn you, Alex!”
“Such harsh words from such a gentle lady.”
The familiar voice had her gasping in surprise. Grace spun around, her heart hammering with hope. “Alex?”
She searched the room, frantic to find him, praying she wasn’t so desperate that she’d imagined his voice.
A shadow separated from the far corner, a human shape emerging from the darkness. “Please, you must explain why you’re cursing my name.”
He was here! He was truly in her bedchamber! She didn’t care about the how or why, she only cared that he was here now. “Alex, is it truly you?”
She didn’t wait for his response but rushed forward and threw her arms around his neck. His hard body was proof enough that she was not imagining things. His clothing was damp, his skin cold and he smelled of rain and fresh air. She didn’t care that it was completely shocking and inappropriate that he was in her chambers. She didn’t care that he was soaking wet. She didn’t care that she was showing her emotions for a man who might not feel the same.
“I had to see you,” he whispered against her neck, his breath so warm it sent shivers over her skin.
The words melted her insides. She sank into him, closing her eyes and savoring the moment.
“There are so many things I need to tell you,” he continued, his voice almost desperate. But damn it all, she didn’t want to discuss why they couldn’t be together, or why he couldn’t leave Lady Lavender. She merely wanted to feel. Feel him.
“It can wait.”
She didn’t know how he had gotten here, or why. She didn’t care. Grace stood on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his. Alex groaned, sliding his arms around her waist and drawing her even closer. For one long moment they merely kissed. When she parted her lips, his velvety tongue delved into her mouth. A kiss of desperation. A kiss of passion. A kiss of love. She felt that kiss all the way through her body, to her toes and into her soul.
When his hands moved downward to cup her bottom and pull her up against his hard erection, Grace gasped, tearing her mouth from his. How she adored the man! How he made her forget the world. She reached for the buttons on his jacket. She would have him this time, all of him. Blast it, her fingers were too cold and her body trembling too badly to work properly.
“So many things…” he gasped. “I must… need to…”
She finally got the buttons undone and shoved the jacket from his broad shoulders. Eagerly, she pressed her lips to the side of his neck where his pulse beat erratically. He tasted of spicy male, of night air and of rain. Her trembling fingers crawled down the buttons of his linen shirt, eager, so bloody eager.
“Grace, please.”
“What things?” she asked in a breathless whisper. His shirt parted. Grace spread the material wide and slipped her hands up his chest, her fingers tracing the carved muscle, spreading through the crisp, dark hair sprinkled across his torso. So bloody warm under her touch. She’d never get enough of the man.
“Things…such as… Good lord, stop.” He grabbed her wrists, his grip so tight, she paused in surprise. “I can’t think when you’re touching me and I need to think.”
Did he not wish to be intimate? The thought chilled her blood, confused her. Before she could question him further, he took her hand and pulled her toward the chair near the empty fireplace. “Sit.” He gently pushed her down, then grabbed a shawl and tossed it over her shoulders.
Grace tightened her fingers on the fringe of her wrap, and resisted the urge to stand again and demand answers. His face was so serious that he was almost frightening. He did want her, didn’t he? He had come to make amends, hadn’t he?
He raked his hands through his hair in the way he did when he was flustered. “There’s so much I haven’t told you, that I haven’t told anyone.”
“What is it?” Surely nothing he could say would be more shocking than what she already knew about him. Still, Grace couldn’t deny that her nerves were tingling in warning.
“I’m from Russia,” he blurted out.
She nodded. “Yes, I assumed.” Was that why he was so nervous? “Your nationality does not concern me.” Although she had certainly wondered how he had gotten here. But it was his story to tell and she’d always been patient.
He started pacing in front of her, the floorboards squeaking in protest. “I wasn’t always… a whore.”
She nodded again, glancing at the door, worried John would arrive home soon and notice Alex’s heavy footsteps. “Please, Alex, what is it? You’re driving me mad with suspense.”
He stopped and faced her. How she wished she could read his features, but the darkness made it nearly impossible. Still, she didn’t need to read his face to know he was upset. The air practically vibrated with unease.
“My family was related to the Russian royals.”
Grace waited for his laughter.
It never came.
“Dear lord, you’re serious.”
He moved to the cold hearth, resting his hands on the mantel, his back to her. “My mother was English, my father Russian. We fled to England during the war when I was but a boy. We knew very few. My mother’s family was not part of the
ton,
but wealthy famers who kept to the countryside. We hid, here, in London, fearing retribution because we were Russian.”
He paused then and the silence stretched between them. Alex was related to royalty. Why did that not surprise her as much as it should? Instead of shock, Grace felt oddly numb.
“I…I see,” she whispered, knowing she must say something. Alex was related to royalty. It was like some horrible, wretched fairy tale. “But…how are you here, in this situation?”
He swallowed hard, his unease almost tangible, like a wave in the air that trembled and quaked. “Lady Lavender threatened to destroy my family if I didn’t work for her. She would tell the world who we really were. Of course, at the time, the English didn’t particularly care for Russians. Now that I’m older, I realize we could have hidden in the countryside, but as a young lad, I was… frightened.” He paced in front of her. “I was not allowed contact with my parents, not allowed to explain my sudden disappearance. After years I’d had enough. I knew the war was over and assumed we would be safe. That’s when she swore to tell the world what I had been. When she threatened to go after my brother, I knew she had me. And then…then I saw my brother that day at the gaming hell.”
Demitri. She remembered the situation so vividly, for it was one of the first times Alex had shown true emotion. The man had been his brother? So many thoughts tumbled through Grace’s mind, she wasn’t sure which to latch onto. How she hated Lady Lavender. How she wanted to go to her gaudy estate and wrap her very fingers around the woman’s neck.
“And then I met you.” Startled, Grace turned her attention to him once more. Alex knelt before her, his eyes pleading. “Please, Grace. You must believe me. We were in dire circumstances, running out of money…”
She threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, Alex. I’m so sorry.” His entire body seemed to sink into her, as if breathing a huge sigh of relief. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tightly to him.
“You forgive me?” he whispered into her hair.
His heart beat so rapid, so frantic against her chest. “There is nothing to forgive. When I met you, I couldn’t resist your charm. I knew there was something there, underneath it all and I was right. You’re an honorable man.”
He pulled back and cupped the sides of her face. A desperation shone in his eyes that tore at her gut, squeezed at her heart. “You don’t know how much your words mean to me, even if I don’t deserve them.”
“You do!” She pressed a quick kiss to his cold lips. “And your family will think the same.”
He stiffened. Grace resisted the urge to cringe. Had she overstepped? “You do… you do plan to tell them?”
Slowly, he pulled away from her and stood. He suddenly seemed a county away. Without a word, he turned and paced toward the fireplace.
“Alex?”
He paused, his back to her, his shoulders stiff. What was he thinking? Had she ruined everything?
“The war is over, Alex.” She went to him slowly, fearful of frightening him away. She rested her palms on his damp jacket, soaking in the heat radiating from his body. “You need to find your family. You need to tell them the truth. They deserve it. You deserve it.”
He was silent for one long, horrible moment. Grace bit her lower lip, stepping back and giving him space to think. Was she wrong I coaxing him? She could see the little, lost boy in his eyes. Alex needed his family, as she needed hers. But would he trust her enough to listen to her beliefs? Or would he push her away as he’d done before?
He glanced over his shoulder, a shy look of hesitation that tugged at her heart. “And if I do… can you… do you think you could possibly go with me?”
Euphoria and relief mixed in a dizzying combination. Alex wanted her. Alex needed her. Alex respected her opinion. He might not love her, but at the moment it didn’t matter.
The tears she’d been trying to keep at bay slipped one by one down her cheeks. “Alex, whether you go to your family or not, I will always be here for you.”
Chapter 17
How the hell had he ended up here?
Alex’s grip tightened on Grace’s chilled hand. The woman was half his size, yet he drew comfort from her steady presence all the same. She squeezed his fingers, a silent show of support, obviously sensing his reluctance. Of course the fact that he’d been standing on the front stoop for a good ten minutes might have given her a clue.