Lost to the Night (The Brotherhood Series, Book 1) (12 page)

“How long have you been like this?” Alexander asked.

“Elliot is in his fourth year, me my third. If he had not come along when he did, I’d be dead. The loneliness was all consuming. Like you, I was angry. I’d gotten into many a fight in the hope of being pierced through the heart.”

“What about you?” Elliot asked.

“Two years.” He’d spent two long years believing he was alone, thinking no one would understand the beast that lurked inside. There’d been no one to talk to, no one to help him understand. His declaration raised another question. “Are there any others?”

Elliot shook his head. “Not that we know of. We only knew of you because we heard your call. When you heard our call and followed us, you confirmed our suspicions.”

“Come,” Devlin said. “We’re to attend a rather select party. You should come with us. Perhaps a night cradled between soft thighs will help calm your volatile spirit. The women we entertain have no desire for an emotional connection and with your handsome face, you’ll prove popular.”

Alexander shook his head as he was no longer the sort of man who enjoyed such vacuous pursuits. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll stay here.”

“Miss Bromwell,” Elliot whispered to Devlin, who raised his chin in acknowledgement. “Perhaps we could arrange a little party for him here. Something to soothe his troubled soul. Something he might find more appealing.”

“You do not need to concern yourselves with me,” Alexander replied.

Elliot reached into the pocket of his coat and removed a card. “If you need anything, you’ll find me here. Perhaps we may see you tomorrow night. Lady Westbury is having a ball in honour of her young niece. When the fresh girls come out it always puts the other ladies in the mood for a bit of wild sport.”

Alexander shrugged and placed Elliot’s card in his pocket. He had no desire to parade around at another ball. He’d come tonight for one reason only.

Wearing the same arrogant smirk, both gentlemen stepped forward and patted him on the back. “Until next time,” they said in unison. “Welcome to the brotherhood.”

Chapter 12

Charlotte Sutherby’s rather quick recovery annoyed Evelyn. She could not shake the suspicion that it had all been an act to lure her away from Alexander. Indeed, as soon as the gentleman had disappeared from sight, Charlotte felt considerably better. Usually after swooning, one would feel nauseous or be plagued by a headache. Fresh air and a cup of hot tea were said to work wonders, but Charlotte insisted her brother fetch a double helping of ratafia.

Thoughts of being kissed by the enigmatic Alexander Cole refused to be tempered, and her mind conjured all sorts of scenarios, involving a swim at midnight, a bench and a broken fountain. Whenever she reached the most exciting part of the daydream, Charlotte’s whining sent the thoughts scattering like dead leaves in the wind.

“Miss Bromwell.”

It took a tremendous amount of effort not to shout ‘what!’ and Evelyn turned to find a handsome gentleman with hair as dark as ebony and eyes a deep mesmerising green.

“Yes?” she said, the single word revealing her surprise. Stupidly, she glanced left and right as though there was more than one lady bearing her name and he had chosen the wrong one.

The gentleman bowed. “Forgive me. I know it is considered highly inappropriate as we have not been formally introduced, but I am Lord Markham. If I could just have a moment of your time.” He paused and then added, “There is nothing to fear. We will remain in the ballroom, just a few feet away.”

Evelyn turned to Charlotte, who looked down her nose and gave a disgruntled huff. Mr. Sutherby would return with refreshments at any moment. “Yes, of course, my lord,” she said, relieved to have an excuse to leave the grumbling patient.

Lord Markham steered her away from Charlotte to a quieter spot near an alcove. “I could not help but notice you dancing with Lord Hale,” he began. “I hope you do not think my approach forward or out of turn, but I recently saw the gentleman in the orangery and he appeared somewhat agitated.”

“Agitated?” Evelyn repeated although it came as no surprise. No doubt he was annoyed with her for abandoning him without a word.

“It is probably nothing,” he said with a dismissive wave, “I’m sure he will return momentarily. I did not mean to alarm you. It’s just you appear to know him well. I suspect you will want to go to him.” The gentleman stared into her eyes, and she found the rich green hues soothing. Images of rolling around in summer meadows and snoozing in the long grass filled her head. “I shall not keep you, as I’m sure you will want to find him.”

Evelyn smiled. “Thank you, my lord, for bringing the matter to my attention.”

“When you go to him, do not mention our conversation.”

“No, my lord,” she replied as the gentleman bowed and made his retreat.

You should go to him.

The thought popped into her head again. No one would notice her nipping out into the garden and she did owe Lord Hale an apology. Aunt Beatrice had spent the entire evening with Mr. Hartwood and would assume she was still with the Sutherbys.

With a quick glance over her shoulder, she slipped out into the night. She had no idea where she was going but after a few wrong turns soon found herself outside the quaint little castle.

As soon as she opened the door and began her journey along the path, she knew Alexander Cole was still inside. Her body responded instantly. She felt the thrum of excitement tingle in her fingertips, working its way up her arm to fill her chest.

She found him sitting on a stone bench, his head in his hands, evoking memories of him at Stony Cross, of how glorious his naked body looked in the moonlight.

“Lord Hale?”

He looked up at her, his eyes revealing some unknown emotion and her heart swelled so large she could feel it pushing against her ribs. The overwhelming urge to soothe him, to run her fingers through his dark locks, took hold.

“Miss Bromwell,” he said coming to his feet. He glanced towards the door. “What are you doing in here?”

“I left you without any explanation. It was rude of me. Miss Sutherby had fainted and well …”

He snorted. “I’m normally the one guilty of being rude. But you shouldn’t be seen with me. Not out here.”

Desire pulsed deep in her core at the thought of being alone with him, and she could not stop her gaze lingering on his mouth as she recalled his comment about wanting to kiss her.

“I don’t care about that,” she said stepping closer to him. “No one knows I’m out here.” A strange energy pulsed around them, and she wanted to throw her arms wide and embrace it.

He closed the gap between them. “Come, let us return to the ballroom before someone sees you.”

She didn’t want to go back. She might never get another opportunity to be alone with him, to explore this potent attraction that existed between them.

“What you said earlier … about what you’d want if we were alone.”

“They were the foolish words of a dreamer.”

“You didn’t mean it then?”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Oh, I meant every word.”

“Then kiss me,” she whispered, aware of the tremor in her voice, of the brazen way she’d asked. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, and his eyes grew wide. His skin felt cool to the touch, soft where he’d recently shaved, and he covered her hand with his own, securing it in place as he closed his eyes.

Taking advantage of the moment, she stood on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to his. From the briefest touch, the world erupted around her, the spark of recognition, of familiarity flowing from his lips.

He was her match in every way.

She felt it to be true; she knew it to be true.

He opened his eyes, the blue rays penetrating her soul and she thought her legs would buckle beneath her.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he gasped when she pulled away. “You don’t know what I would give to kiss you as I want to.”

“Do it,” she replied failing to hide her desperation. With him, all inhibitions were lost to her.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I trust you. We will never know what exists between us unless you try. We will never understand it.”

She thought he would protest but in an instant his arm slid around her back, and he pulled her to his hard body as his mouth claimed hers.

The fire in her belly ignited in a blaze of desperate longing as his mouth moved slowly over hers. Even with her lack of experience, she couldn’t control the urge to taste him, to deepen the kiss and yet she sensed he was holding back.

“I need more,” she said breaking contact.

His mouth curved into the beginnings of a smile, and she wanted to cry. The glorious sight affected her like nothing else before.

“You want what I cannot give you,” he said, his smile fading.

She refused to accept his answer. Stripping off her gloves and throwing them to the floor, she brushed her hands up over his chest and threaded
them around his neck. “Kiss me again, Alexander. Like you want to. Like you mean it.”

A growl emanated from the back of his throat and he claimed her mouth fiercely. There was no slow coaxing. His tongue penetrated the line of her lips and thrust deeply, wildly into her mouth.

She clutched at his shoulders, needing to feel close to him as she found the courage to meet him with the same level of intensity. Desire roared in her ears when her tongue danced with his, and his hands drifted down her back to draw her closer so she could feel the hard evidence of his arousal.

Nothing had ever felt so wonderful.

Nothing had ever felt so perfect.

“Oh, God, Eve,” he whispered, raining urgent kisses along the line of her jaw. “I wish we were naked, swimming in the river at night.”

Feeling a throbbing sensation between her legs, she grabbed the lapels of his coat. “I don’t understand this. I don’t understand what is happening to me, but I don’t care.”

He claimed her mouth again, delving inside, pressing his body into her again and again, the rhythmical motion making her dizzy with desire. His ragged breathing and deep groans made her feel so drunk she hardly noticed his hand creeping up under her gown, not until his fingers brushed her most intimate place.

“Alexander,” she panted, the need to feel him again overriding any shame or fear.

“I can’t stop,” he whispered hoarsely. “I can’t stop touching you.”

“I want you to touch me,” she said softly. The ropes of restraint no longer existed between them.

As she floated away on a cloud of ecstasy, he stroked her back and forth, his tongue thrusting into her mouth simultaneously. Her whole body edged closer to some unknown destination, a place far beyond this world. Pleasure rippled through her as she rubbed against his hand, consumed by this madness for him.

He quickened the pace, and the room burst forth in a blaze of glittering lights. She felt her body convulse at his touch, and she pushed her tongue into his mouth, searching for something more, desperate to prolong the feeling.

In a distant recess of her mind, she heard the rustle of material as he removed his hand, and she felt the loss like a deep ache in her heart.

“I have never felt anything as powerful as this,” he panted against her hair, drawing her into his chest as the tremors subsided. “It has taken all the strength I have not to spread you wide and push inside you.”

She sucked in a breath at his honesty. “I have never known a feeling like this, either. All I know is that I could never marry Mr. Sutherby,” she said. How could she when her soul sang only for this man. Whatever happened, she could never give herself to another.

Alexander sighed. She could sense his pain as he pulled her tighter. “I cannot marry. I would not make a good husband.”

Evelyn pulled away and looked up at him. “I think you would make a fine husband.”

An image of them at Stony Cross surrounded by a horde of children flashed into her mind.

“I do not want children,” he replied as though reading her thoughts.

There was a shift in him, a wave of coldness that acted as a shroud to hide any emotion. He’d been living the life of a recluse. Perhaps these strange feelings were new to him, made him overcautious, wary.

“I am not asking for a declaration,” she said. “You do not have to convince me of your unsuitability.”

He stroked the outline of her face. “What are you asking?”

“I’m not asking for anything.”

It was a lie.

She wanted everything.

“After what has just happened, you should be demanding I make you an offer.”

“I would never want what you were not willing to give. You wanted to touch me, and I wanted it, too. No one else need know of it and so let that be the end of the matter.”

Evelyn thought her response would calm him. She expected him to express relief, but she knew anger simmered beneath the surface.

“What if I don’t want it to be the end of the matter? What would you say if I kissed you again?”