Brie sat with the girl and asked if she could finish reading the book.
“Thanks, I could actually use a minute,” the mom admitted. She stepped into the hall and Julia went with her, putting an arm around the woman’s shoulders. Alec was certain Julia would know what to do to help the exhausted woman. He certainly didn’t.
Alec sat down beside Brie in the second chair and watched her read to Trina. The girl listened with rapt attention. It wasn’t a child’s book; it was a novel called The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle.
“You know, this was my favorite book as a child,” Brie told Trina.
“It was?” The girl’s voice was melodic like a songbird.
“Yes, you’ve read it before?”
The girl grinned. “Yep! My mom even let me see the movie. It was a cartoon, but it’s still good.” Trina opened her cookie parcel and took out a tree-shaped snack.
“Would you like me to read a little?” Brie opened the book where the bookmark rested.
“Yes please.” Trina leaned forward, her small delicate body still managing to carry some excitement despite her illness. She adjusted the stocking cap covering her bald scalp.
Brave, beautiful child, Alec thought.
Brie began to read aloud. Just as Alec had thought that first time he met her, she should narrate books. She used accents and special voices with ease, making the little girl laugh. By the time Trina had eaten half her cookies, she looked relaxed and fresh color blossomed faintly in her pale face.
Trina’s mother returned with a grateful look and reclaimed her seat. Brie and Alec said goodbye to the little girl.
“I’ll check out with the nurses and call for the car,” Julia said, leaving them for a moment in the hospital hallway. Alec held the mostly empty basket and turned to Brie. Her face was drawn and she was quiet. He wondered what was wrong, but quickly remembered that Brie had lost her mother to cancer. This had to be bringing back hard memories for her.
“You okay?” he asked.
She tried to smile but the expression floundered. “No…not really. Those poor kids. I’m trying so hard not to think about how much they’re suffering because it can drown a person but spending the afternoon here…it was good and a bit awful at the same time.” She sighed. “That doesn’t make sense, does it?” Alec gently caught her chin and lifted her face.
“Hey. I know exactly what you mean. No one likes to feel useless, and that’s exactly how we feel. We cannot slay their dragons, but we can give them a few hours of smiles and a dangerous amount of sugar.” He smiled at her, feeling a cottony warmth in his chest.
She smiled back. “Slay their dragons… I like that.”
“My grandfather used to say it. Sometimes you want to help someone but the only thing you can do is spend time with them. He used to say, ‘Alec my boy, you cannot slay another man’s dragons, but you can be that man’s friend.’”
Brie’s eyes softened with understanding as she gazed up at him. “I would have liked your grandfather.”
“He would have loved you.” Alec stroked his thumb over her cheek, tracing the faint smile lines around her mouth. Her sweetness was killing him.
“We should go before your mother sends a search party,” Brie said, stepping back.
Alec waited in the hall a few seconds before going after her. He’d meant what he’d said before. He’d wanted to be with her again. He wanted however many nights he could steal with her while she stayed at Merryvale. He knew she wanted him, too. He’d tasted the way she’d responded to his kiss, but she was holding back. He would have to show her that a hidden passion might just be what they both needed.
* * *
Brie had dinner with Alec’s family, plus Simon and Bridget. The formal dining room was put to good use. The dogs waited, half-hidden beneath the white tablecloth, as the first course was carried in. Copper and Pepper were silent except for the sounds of their tails thumping on the ground. Yogi must have been somewhere nearby because they could hear his heavy breathing, and Brendan kept covering his mouth to hide his laughter at whatever the bulldog was doing below the table.
Wedged between Alec and Morgan, Brie was once again treated to the humor of the brothers playfully antagonizing one another as everyone enjoyed their white onion and truffle soup.
“Fetch your notebook,” Alec said to her in a husky whisper. “I can tell you this recipe.”
Brie pulled her notebook from her bag and scribbled the ingredients and cooking instructions down.
“How do you know this one?” she asked.
“One should always memorize their favorite dish by heart.”
“Actually, it’s the only one he knows.” Morgan leaned in to whisper from other the other side. “Alec could burn a pot of hot water.”
Alec shot a glare at Morgan. “You don’t know how to cook either.”
“Not true.” Morgan shot back. “I know how to make Christmas pudding.”
“Only the part that requires the brandy.” Alec leaned back in his chair smugly. “And that’s because you drink most of it.”
“Uh, guys?” Brie whispered.
“What?” they asked in unison.
“Everyone is staring,” Brie tucked her notebook under her chair and took a spoonful of the creamy pale soup, trying to ignore everyone else at the table.
“Would anyone like some sloe gin?” Byron asked after he shot his misbehaving sons an intense look.
“I would love a glass,” Simon replied before he winked at Brie from further down the table.
Relieved at the distraction, she was able to write more notes about the dark gin made from sloes. Byron explained that sloes were the fruit of Blackthorn plants which grew wild on the Merryvale property.
After a dinner of mince pies and beetroot chutney, the group retired to the salon to watch the countess light the tree. The main lights above them on the walls were dimmed and everyone counted down to one before Julia plugged in the cord. Brie held her breath in awe as sparkling, brilliant light illuminated the room.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Alec asked from behind her.
His hand touched the space between her shoulder blades, sending a shiver through her as he moved his hand down her body. “Yes.”
She was an instrument he was bringing to life right here in this room. The more he touched her, the more she wanted to make music. His offer of a secret tryst for just a week, just the two of them bound by passion, could she do it? They would simply be exercising their desires in a healthy way. It didn’t have to be about commitment. What was wrong with that?
She reached one hand behind her and he slipped his hand into hers. “Alec.”
“Yes?” He stepped closer, hiding the connection of their hands.
“Come to me tonight.”
He squeezed her hand to indicate he’d heard her, then let go and stepped carefully away. She joined Simon and Bridget, who were watching Brendan examine the tree.
“So…how was the hospital?” Simon asked her. “I’ve been there a few times. It’s a wonderful facility, but it’s difficult to see those children hurting.”
“Yes, it was hard but very much worth it.” Brie hadn’t been prepared for the pain at seeing those young lives and the lives of their families suffering. Yet she’d known it was important to visit and to give those kids a few minutes where they felt normal. She’d been amazed at how Alec had spoken with the children. He was quiet at first, but seemed so at ease with them by the end. She expected him to freeze up or be unable to relate, but the exact opposite had happened.
“So, what’s happening tomorrow?” Brendan asked as he joined them.
“More sledding? And visiting a Christmas fair in the village nearby, I think.” Simon looked at Bridget for confirmation and she nodded.
“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” Brendan reminded him.
“It certainly is.” Bridget laughed. “I hope Santa will find his way here for your presents.”
Brendan looked at his mother in the polite
st manner possible. “I hope he does too.” Brendan’s too innocent tone, however, implied he knew Santa didn’t exist. He left to pet the dogs who’d just come running into the room.
“It’s cute how he still humors me,” Bridget mused. “I hate that he’s growing up so fast.”
Simon put an arm around Bridget’s waist and leaned in to kiss her temple. “That’s why we had the twins, so you can do it all over again.”
Bridget kissed Simon’s cheek. “Oh, is that why?” With a smirk, he let her go and walked over to join Brendan and the dogs.
“You’re so lucky,” Brie said.
Bridget’s brows drew together. “Lucky?”
“Yeah, things with you and Simon work. You care about each other. It’s not just physical.”
Bridget seemed to understand what Brie was too afraid to say. “Brie, what happened with Preston wasn’t your fault. People who marry young don’t always know the difference between infatuation and affection.”
“Trust me. I know that now.” She looked down at her feet, her face a little flushed. “I’m just worried I’ll never be able to tell, you know?”
Her friend gave her a hug. “Just open yourself up. The universe will make something happen.”
Brie wanted to believe Bridget but couldn’t. She was too afraid to give her love life a second chance, She didn’t want to deny herself the chance to be with Alec. Maybe if she just embraced a relationship that was strictly a matter of lust and attraction, she wouldn’t be disappointed. Sex with him had been explosive, powerful, and intimate in a way that made her hungry for more.
* * *
Alec slipped away from the group while everyone enjoyed hot toddies or hot chocolate. He wandered the halls of the old manor house until he stopped at his grandfather’s study. Although he’d obviously been drawn to it like a magnet, he hadn’t even realized he was walking in this direction. His hand shook as he touched the door latch, but with a deep breath, he opened it. Memories assailed him as he stared about the room.
Nothing had changed. Two tall African spears stood in one corner, whispering tales of when Walter had been a young man. He hadn’t hunted on safari like many of his peers. Instead, he’d helped a chief in Kenya hunt down a group of poachers to save a herd of elephants. The chief had given him this pair of warrior spears as a gift.
Alec ran his finger over the head of the nearest spear. The cold metal was smooth and sharpened to a deadly point. Thin, rough rope bound the dark wood of the shaft to the spearhead.
Behind the spears was an old black-and-white photo of his grandfather with his arm around a young chief’s shoulder. Walter couldn’t have been much older than Alec in that photo.
How many stories had been lost when his grandfather had died? The whole room was a powerful shrine to Walter’s life. War medals were carefully displayed in a case on the desk. Alec remembered wanting to wear them when he played soldier with Morgan. Byron had never wanted to let them, but Walter had chuckled and pinned the medal to Alec’s chest.
“It’s just a bit of metal and ribbon,” Walter had told Byron. “The men who fought beside me wouldn’t mind, not if it gives the boys a sense of honor while they play.”
Alec remembered how carefully he’d played while wearing the war medal, knowing only a little of the sacrifices his grandfather had made to earn such an honor. He’d been a young man when he’d fought in Korea and had lost several friends.
War is not pretty. It’s not something a man wishes for, but peace can’t always be earned by kindness. Sometimes evil can only be stopped when good men go to war. Walter’s voice seemed to echo in the room from a lifetime ago.
Alec opened the box of medals and ran his finger along the collection: the Victorian Cross, the Military Cross, the George Medal, and the Queen’s Gallantry Medal. The silver on the medals was still shining even after all these years.
Beside the box of medals was a leather-bound journal with his grandfather’s initials and a date in the 1960s. A leather strap bound the journal tight, protecting whatever thoughts Walter had jotted down. As much as Alec wanted to read it, it was too much like peering into his grandfather’s soul. Far too private a thing for him to open uninvited.
“I haven’t had the heart to change anything,” his father said behind him. Alec turned to see Byron leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Alec’s gaze swept over the bookshelves that lined one wall. There were artifacts from all over the world tucked in between books almost as an afterthought. “It’s like he’s still here.”
“In a way, he is.” Byron moved deeper into the room beside Alec. “He was an amazing man. I wish you could have had more time with him.” Byron picked up the leather journal and held it out to Alec. “He wrote hundreds of these over the course of his life. You should read one.”
“What? No, I can’t—”
His father pressed the journal against Alec’s chest. “I insist. Discover who he really was. I know that his death still affects you in ways it never has with Morgan. We all handle death differently. But you should know him, the real him. He would want you to.”
Alec’s hands curled around the leather which had grown soft with age. “Have you read it?”
His father nodded. “I read everything of his about two months after he died. It brought me closer to him. I think you need that, Alec.” His father patted his shoulder and left Alec alone again in his grandfather’s study.
With the journal clutched in one hand, Alec looked around the study once more. The large walnut wood desk had always had a drawer of peppermint hard candies and the pocket watch now resting on the black leather desk protector had never left his father’s side.
Alec picked up his grandfather’s watch and pressed down on the knob to make the lid pop open. The black hands were stopped. Alec twisted the top of the watch, cranking the knob back, feeling the little gears work as the watch wound up. When he pressed the knob down again, the hands began to move. He adjusted the time and set the watch back on the desk, face open.
He left the study and went to his bedchamber where he poured himself a glass of brandy before he settled in a chair by the fire. Perhaps his father was right. Perhaps it was time to really get to know the man he’d loved fiercely and lost.
9
Brie changed into her black and pink short-sleeved button up shirt and short pajama set, brushed her teeth, and washed her face in the expensive Italian marble bathroom connected to her room. It felt like she was spending a night in an honest-to-God princess suite.
Whoever said fairytales weren’t real had never stayed in Merryvale. Her walls were covered with floor-to-ceiling tapestries of deer walking through the English woods. In the corner of one hanging, there was a darker area of the woods that held a wolf, half hidden in a set of bushes. The wolf gave the tapestry an edge of menace that intrigued her. No doubt there was some story behind it. She would have to ask the countess about it later.
Brie climbed onto the tall four poster bed and pulled her coat toward her. She dug into the pockets and found the business card Alec had given her. His name, along with the last name that would have given away his relation to her client if only she’d taken the time to look, was printed in a neat block letter font. Beneath it was the Barclays logo as well as the address of his investment banking division in London. Alec’s office phone and mobile number were near the bottom.
She brushed her thumb over the number and then tapped it into her phone and saved it to her contacts. After a brief moment of hesitation, she typed out a text.
Brie: I’m in bed. Waiting for you.
She paused before she hit send. Was that too on the nose? She didn’t want to come off too forward. She erased the message and typed another.
Brie: You Up? ;-)
Then she muttered as she deleted that message as well. She was twenty-nine, too old to send a winking face emoji to a man she was hoping would get naked with her very soon. She wasn’t a teena
ger.
Brie: I meant what I said by the tree.
Perfect. Not too aggressive, not too teenage-y. Just the truth. She hit send and held her breath. A moment later three dots appeared as Alec started to reply.
Alec: You found my business card?
Brie: Yes.
Alec: Good. I was worried you asked my mum for my number.
Brie bit her lip to keep from laughing.
Brie: I don’t think it would’ve been good to ask her for your number. God knows how she would react if she knew why I wanted it.
Alec: She’d either faint or throw a parade. Best to keep this our little secret.
Brie: Agreed. So…
She didn’t want to outright invite him over.
Alec: Which room are you in?
Brie: Uh, I don’t know. The one with the forest tapestry that has a scary wolf half hidden in one corner.
Alec: The forest room. Be there shortly.
She giggled at that.
Brie: The forest room? That’s unoriginal.
Alec: This house has over fifty bedrooms. You run out of clever names after a while.
Brie slid off the bed and tucked her phone back into her purse. Her heart hammered and her blood beat a steady rhythm in her ears as she started to second-guess what she was doing. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
She jumped at the soft knock at her door. When she opened it, Alec was there in his jeans and sweater, holding a bottle of scotch and two glasses. Tucked under one arm was a leather journal. Brie let him slide past her into her room and shut the door.
“I thought you might be a little nervous and liquid courage can help.” His gaze drifted down her body to her bare feet and legs, and his lips curved in a crooked grin that made her flush.
“The drink would be great,” she admitted. Trying to have a casual, sexy fling was new to her and she was anxious. A little liquid courage was definitely in order.
British Black Sheep: A Cocky Hero Club Series Novel Page 10