A Proper Scandal (Ravensdale Family Book 2) (38 page)

“What’s wrong? Don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” Minnie snapped.

“Everyone cries, even you, my undefeatable sister. It’s not a weakness.” Grace reached for Minnie’s jittering teacup and placed it onto the table in front of the sofa. She scooted across the sofa to throw her arms around Minnie, who fell against her shoulders and sobbed.

It was strange to fall to pieces in front of another, but oddly, Minnie thought Grace wouldn’t mind. Whereas Minnie would stomp and fuss to get attention, Grace was always the quiet one, steadfast and kind. She would be the one who would stand tall in a crisis, ready to help, and kind enough to love away the hurt. What was so wrong with Minnie? Why couldn’t she be just as adjusted and calm?

“I have made such a mess of things.” She sniffed back her tears, melting under her sister’s kind touch, rubbing circles over her back as if she was a fussy babe.

“Tell me why you think so. We can make it better again.”

“When you say something like that, it reminds me how young you are.”

Was it possible to taste the bitterness of jaded feelings in one’s mouth?

“You aren’t much older than I am.”

There weren’t many years that separated them, only three, but Grace was so innocent of life and the world. Minnie had seen the very worst, at her own hand. “I’ve lived lifetimes over you.”

“Perhaps.”

Minnie brushed away her tears. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so short with you. I’m making a mess of this visit too. I’m not fit to be a proper hostess. It seems that without wine and a group of rowdy actors, I’m out of my depths.”

“Everyone has their strengths. You were always the entertainer. And you’re a fine hostess.”

“And you’re a fine liar,” Minnie leveled with a small laugh. “No, you’re far too kind. I apologize. I’m just…well…”

“You are my sister. A few tears will not ruin that. Try as you might, there’s no pushing me away now. Not when I finally have you back.”

Minnie sat back, rubbing her palms over her face. “Do you forgive me?”

“What is there to forgive? I missed you, but I understand that you had a grand adventure to live. You’re braver than most for leaving as you did…for living for yourself.”

“When did you become so wise?”

“I’ve always been so. I was born with a great mind.” Grace’s spirit made Minnie laugh. “If you need me to say the words, then I will, but there’s no need. I’m simply happy to be here with you now. But you’re not upset over my visit. So what troubles you?”

Minnie opened her mouth to say it, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak his name. She picked up her teacup again. “So tell me, are you ready for your first season?”

“It’s Mr. Marwick, isn’t it?”

Minnie’s throat tightened and the uncomfortable feeling she had been pushing aside rattled her body again, causing her heart to stutter and her hands to tremble. Her thoughts stilled and paused on the axis of one word—Alex.

She took another sip of tea, pausing with her lips around the delicate rim of the cup. She could shatter the fine piece if she bit down, the tension growing her in set jaw. She would not cry.

Would not.

Absolutely not.

“Yes,” Minnie said. It was nothing more than a whisper, but it had been more than she had admitted since Alex walked out. The last she heard of him was the single sentence opening night. If that is what he thought she wanted, then she had done poorly in her return to London. Minnie thought she had overcome her strange boundaries and leaned a little heavier on him. She enjoyed waking up in his bed, having silly conversations over dinner, and being able to kiss him when she wished. It was comfortable and it had felt right. If she had not been so foolish to throw it all away, that is.

“Surely, matters can be repaired between you. A quarrel…”

“I’m a selfish twit, Grace. I always have been. As much as I try, I do not think I can change that about myself.”

“But I know he loves you,” Grace reached for Minnie’s hand. “I’m certain.”

“Please, don’t.” Minnie jumped from the sofa, the ground swaying under her feet.

“I saw the way he looked at you during dinner. I heard the way he held his breath every time you turned to him. He was so proud. You’re his world, Minnie.”

“The man hates me.” Minnie took three short steps, then turned on her heel, pacing as words sped ahead within her. “He took a bullet because of me. Did he mention how he was chased out of Paris too? And thrown in jail. I nearly shut down his theater when I returned to London. I was too scandalous for his investors.” She scoffed, the laugh dying at her lips as her hand rested at the base of her neck to run over the lace collar. “I have done nothing but ruin that man’s life.”

“I can’t pretend to know what has happened between you both. I know that it’s been a long friendship,” Grace skipped over it all politely.

Minnie bit her tongue.

“But he has been your champion and he has stood by you. That must count for something.”

“It means the man’s a bloody martyr.” Minnie stormed to the window and whacked the tassels back from the curtains in an annoyed swat. She whirled around to face Grace, her cheeks suddenly warm.

“What else has he done to convince you of his feelings for me?” Minnie hated that she wished to know. She needed to put him behind her and move forward and conquer new conquests, and lands, and whatever else she needed to do to be happy. She would build a flying machine to the moon if she had to, just so long as she could put him out of her mind and mend her aching heart. She was terrible at being in love.

“He brought you home from Paris, did he not?”

“I chose to return to London.”

“Uncle was under the impression that Mr. Marwick collected you from an unsavory situation.”

Now, Minnie was angry. She wasn’t some castoff sent to live with lepers during her time in Paris. “I didn’t need rescuing, Grace. The man always feels the need to swoop in and change my life.”

“Much like you do to his?”

“I’m miserable,” Minnie cried, sinking to the floor. She could be angry another day. Right now, standing in her parlor speaking of Alex as if he was nothing more than a meddlesome acquaintance did such a disservice to them both. “I cannot,” she sobbed, tearing at the buttons around her throat. “I cannot do this without him. I pushed him away for the last time and I have nothing left.”

Grace’s slim arms wrapped around her again. “You have plenty left. But I think I understand how you feel.”

What could innocent Grace know of love?

“I love him, Grace.”

“I know.” Grace gathered Minnie tighter. “But you were never one to step aside and let things pass you by.”

“What are you saying?”

“Go to him and tell him how you feel. Apologize if you acted rashly. Explain yourself if you acted in fear.”

Minnie looked up and blinked back her surprise. “Grace?”

“Yes?”

“I love you, too.”

“I know,” Grace answered, standing and straightening her skirts. “I’m proud to call you sister. You have done excellent things in your life and I know there is more to come. But there is a man who loves you for all of your faults and your greatness, so don’t sulk. Don’t throw away another’s love because of your stubborn pride.” It was there in Grace’s voice too, that gentle yearning that meant her heart had been spoken for, possibly even broken. “Thank you for the tea, but I think it’s best for me to leave. I’m volunteering at the hospital this afternoon.”

“Of course,” Minnie said.

Her sister blew a kiss, a sweet girlish gesture that reminded Minnie of when they were young and carefree at Burton Hall. “I hope to hear good news.” Then she ducked out of the room to leave Minnie alone on the floor.

L
ife had become too quiet, and that unnerved Alex. He had everything he had fought for except the one thing he had wanted the most.

Losing Minnie hadn’t diminished his accomplishments, but he couldn’t move past the void within himself after losing her. It ate away at him, like the hunger pains he had endured for so long. He could manage during the day when life demanded him to be present, but when the day was dying and quiet whirled around him, the void grew bigger, drawing him in, until some nights he thought he would be lost to it.

The darkness within himself had always been dangerous. It had taken years for him to find ways to manage, but now he was back to waiting for the floor to drop from under his feet and leave him with nothing once more. He feared it coming, but it seemed his heart thought better of letting him suffer and forget. His heart wanted him to live with each beat, remembering that he was holed up in his office in the dead of night, when a few weeks back he would have been in bed with Minnie.

The words before him blurred together from having stared at them too long, and he tried to put them into focus, tried to push aside the feeling that he might have made a mistake by walking away that day, but he had been right to do so. Alex had worked to give her everything. She had his damn heart in her hand the day he met her, and she refused to give herself fully to him, even after all these years.

Maybe he hadn’t tried enough to show her—no, he had broken himself for her. He had given her everything. Maybe if his intentions weren’t honorable—if he didn’t want a family of his own—he could justify her apprehensions. Except he couldn’t. He had gone over it for some time now, trying to decide if he had imagined them sharing something that hadn’t been the truth. Except they had. They were in love. Or had been.

He still was, unfortunately.

He ruffled his hair and sighed, hanging his head. And nothing. Nothing helped. He had no answer for what to do next.

Damn.

She’d bought him the place that tried to kill him as a boy to do as he wished. She’d brought the board to its knees when it threatened to cut off funding of the theater’s latest production. She’d fought for him, alongside of him, and she had loved him. Damn it, he knew that she loved him.

“I’ve never seen you drink before.”

Alex dropped his head onto the desk in a defeated thud, exhaling again as footsteps approached his desk.

“And I didn’t think you smoked either.”

“I don’t.”

Knuckles rapped at the surface, three steady knocks that drew Alex upward in his chair. He wanted to knock the smug look off Boyd’s face. The bastard.

“I see evidence of both.” His friend pointed to the crystal glass by his hand, the smoldering cigarette pinched between his fingers. “Corbett just put up his country estate.”

Corbett was an idiot who had everything but was too blind to see it because he had a bit of a competitive streak. “I thought it was time to find a new habit.”

“Diverting habit, you mean?”

Alex averted his eyes, not needing to answer that question. “Cut him off if he loses. I don’t need another house.” He reached forward and pushed the bottle of whiskey toward his friend. “Have some then.”

“Only if I know what we’re celebrating.”

“I didn’t mention anything about a celebration.”

“Noted,” Boyd said with a solemn face. “I’ll take care of Corbett later.”

Alex took another drag on his cigarette and decided he didn’t care for them, even as he took yet another to avoid having to speak. When his friend stared back at him with a knowing smile, Alex smashed the cigarette end into a silver tray and ground it out with a satisfying smash. It was certainly more acceptable than smashing his friend’s face.

“Not in the mood to speak business, I see. How unlike you.”

“I proposed and she said no.” He picked up the smashed cigarette and stared at it, contemplating of putting it to his lips again because he needed to do something, anything, before he fell to pieces.

“I heard a rumor that a German prince proposed to her last evening.” Boyd spun the bottle of whiskey between his palms over the desk, never looking at Alex as he spoke.

His friend wasn’t helping, only rubbing salt in a dying man’s wounds. “Half the continent is in love with her.”

“Only half?”

“Do you think they still hold fights at that dodgy spot by the river?” Alex pushed back in his chair suddenly and tossed his legs up across the papers.

“You have a ring of your own a few floors down. Much nicer, too.” His friend surveyed him over the rim of his whiskey glass. “But you’re a fucking rubbish fighter.”

As if Alex needed to be reminded. He shrugged and grabbed the rubber ball from his desk and threw it at the opposite wall, focusing on the smudge spot that had evolved after years of doing the same.

“There’s another matter.”

“Can’t Corbett be all for tonight? Use your judgment and run the club for the rest of evening.” He had intended to say so in jest, except it came out like a much-needed request. Alex didn’t want to be at the club. He didn’t want to be playing God with London’s secrets tonight. He wanted to sleep and maybe wake up in a week or two.

“This arrived earlier. I think it’s time to deal with it, Marwick.”

Alex looked to the letter his friend slid across his desk for a moment, then back to the opposite wall.

Bounce.

He was of no mind to deal with that now.

Bounce.

“You keep avoiding this, but it could ruin us. This man has secrets…”

Alex crushed the ball in his palm, knowing it was true. He was ruined over another matter entirely. Adding this wouldn’t make much difference.

“He has the power to take away everything you worked for.”

“You’re telling me nothing I don’t already know.”

“Then deal with it.”

Alex grabbed the letter and opened the desk drawer, pausing over his letter opener as he caught sight of the navy ribbon. He grabbed the parcel and tossed it to Boyd. “See these gone, would you?” He read the letter and crumpled it, throwing it at the spot on the wall as well. But it didn’t return. Fitting. “Did she accept the proposal?”

Boyd stopped pouring the whiskey. “Who?”

The cheeky bastard.

Alex raked his hand through his hair, grimacing from the weight of everything. The world felt as if it would implode at any moment.