“Then he has gone,” her voice was quiet, barely audible from the force of the realization.
John has truly gone.
“The whole Manor has been searched?” Alexander walked around her, trying to capture her gaze again, but she refused to give it to him. She kept her eyes on the floor as her hands began to tremble.
I have lost him. How could I lose my own brother?
“Yes, and the garden. Every bush, every tree, every nook in the Manor you can imagine too has been searched, by myself and the staff.” Cleopatra shook her head, struggling for words. “He…has vanished.”
I have already lost one brother. I cannot lose another.
“He must have run away.” Alexander turned away, scratching the back of his neck in apparent stress.
“We must search elsewhere.” Cleopatra’s mind turned to practicalities. They had to do something. At once they had to take action. She could not stand there panicking, she had to find John.
“Agreed,” Alexander nodded and walked away down the corridor. “Prepare for leaving the Manor. We will search the streets for him.”
“John does not know these streets.” Cleopatra followed him, urging her steps toward her room.
“Then he may be lost. I will gather my men to help us with the search.” Alexander hovered by the top of the stairs, pausing as she passed him. “We will find him, Cleopatra.”
He reached for her hand, she let him hold it momentarily, accepting his comfort. He brushed her wrist with his thumb, the movement a silent offer of support.
“You do not know that.” She kept her eyes on the floor, her mind ran wild with awful imaginations of John lost in the streets of London.
“I do,” he reiterated, urging her to raise her eyes to his again. His gray-blue gaze was wide with sincerity.
Alexander’s feet were sore from the number of hours they had spent on the streets searching for John. Yet, the worst part for him had been having to watch Cleopatra grow increasingly panicked.
When he had arrived back at the Manor earlier that day, he had already seen she was tired. Mrs. Webb had explained her anxiety and the way Cleopatra had searched the garden with such vigor, sprinting up and down the garden until she was exhausted.
Their search of the streets had not helped matters. Cleopatra was growing pale with exertion and tiredness. There was a wetness to her eyes that showed she was only seconds away from tears. She ran through the streets, hardly caring for decorum, calling John’s name at the top of her voice until her throat was hoarse. She kept clutching to her throat, a silent acknowledgement of the pain she was causing herself.
They even searched through her old house. It had stunned him to watch the way with which she tore through the house, searching well-known hiding spots the boy had to have chosen in the past.
Alexander had stood for many minutes within the house, observing the absence of things that had once been there, but must have been sold to pay for Robert’s debts.
Cleopatra left the house with an even-greater sadness emanating from her. Any attempt at comfort he showed her she refused, pulling her arm out of reach and barely lifting her gaze to meet his.
He sent Pip and his other men to search different streets, believing they could cover twice as much ground in two groups, but their search had yielded no result either. Seeing the hopeless way in which Pip shook his head after a fruitless search broke Cleopatra even more.
She turned away from them all, making Alexander yearn to reach out and hold her. The softness and the excitement that had passed between them the evening before seemed as distant from him now as the stars above. He reached out for her, trying to close the distance between them. She accepted the touch on her shoulder, allowing him to walk alongside her with silent comfort.
When the sun began to wane in the sky and the number of people on the street wilted, Alexander ordered Pip to fetch the carriage for them. Cleopatra was so fatigued that she could barely stand straight anymore. She clutched at the black railings of nearby manors as she continued down the road, still searching every alcove and crevice within the manors she could see.
“Cleopatra, the sun is beginning to rest.” He stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
“Then I will search all night,” she moved around him, once again refusing to raise her eyes to him.
“You know the endeavor would be fruitless,” he pleaded with her, continuing to follow but a step behind her. “What you cannot find in daylight would be even more impossible to see in the darkness.”
“You expect me to abandon my search?” She turned back to him, darting her head around. Her black curls fell behind her shoulder with the movement, revealing her dark eyes that were glistening with unfallen tears. “My brother is gone! He could be harmed. He could be in any of these streets, in need of my help. You expect me to leave him out here?”
“No, Cleopatra. I expect you to rest.” He stepped toward her, taking her hand in his. The hand was cold to the touch beneath his, she was practically shivering in the chill of the evening. She did not respond to his touch – as though her hand was but a statue within his grasp. “We will continue the search tomorrow. I give you my word.”
She did not reply, she merely lowered her gaze to her shoes.
“Come, the carriage will be here any moment.” He threaded her hand through his arm to rest in his elbow and led her back down the street. She followed without answering.
A few minutes later, the carriage arrived for them and Alexander helped Cleopatra inside. They sat opposite each other as the coach moved forward.
Alexander watched her closely. She was truly exhausted; the dark circles under her eyes had grown; she rested her head back on the cushioned seat and her hands placed either side of her.
“We will continue tomorrow.” He spoke, desperate to bring a smile to her lips, all the while knowing it was an impossible feat. “Cleopatra, all will be well. We will find him, and we will bring him home.”
“You do not understand,” she shook her head, keeping her eyes trained on the window beside them. “I do not think I have ever felt so dreadful in my life. One dead brother and another lost.” She bit her lip, holding back tears for a moment before she rested her stare on her lap again. “How small my family looks now with just me in it.”
“You are not alone in this,” Alexander leaned forward. He wanted to take her hand, but she firmly kept both hands out of his reach.
“Alexander, I am.” Her voice was somber, full of the sadness the day had caused.
“You are not, Cleopatra.” He found himself moving off the seat and kneeling before her. He took her hand, weaving their fingers together.
He was reminded of their first meeting in the same carriage. How they had shared such angry and bitter words that night. How the tension between them had been alive. From the very beginning, there had been something between them. He had been drawn to her. The way she had looked up at him from beneath his grasp on the carriage floor, she had been just as drawn to him in that moment.
How far they had come from that time. It was not just about fascination anymore.
I need her to trust me.
“You are not alone.” He kept her hand close within his. “I know how you feel, I understand that this moment feels far worse than rock bottom, but I give you my word, you are not alone in this.”
She kept her gaze on his, biting her lip.
“We will continue the search for him, Cleopatra. If it comes to it, then I will search every day after until I find him. I will not relent. I will not give up looking for him.”
“Alexander, I cannot be truly happy with that. Surely you can understand that much.” She allowed the first tear to spill beyond the pools of her eyes and trickle down her cheeks, it made him cling tighter to her hand. “A life where I’m doomed to search for him every day? I might never find him.”
Alexander felt the knot he had grown so used to feeling in his stomach become tighter.
“Cleopatra, I kno
w that what has passed between us is not the life you would have ever chosen.” At his words, she covered her face with her free hand, as though desperate to hide from him. “As I said in my note, I cannot give you enough apologies. Not for what you truly deserve.”
She continued to hide behind her fingers. He pushed on. Now that he had found a voice for his warring feelings, he could not keep them bottled up anymore.
“Your debt to me for ruining my reputation is paid. Once we find your brother, you can continue your life how you please. We have our marriage of convenience. You will always have my financial support, for you and John, but I perfectly understand if you wish to remove yourself from Larson Manor.”
The thought of her disappearing from his life as quickly as she had dropped into it made a new ache in his chest. Yet he knew he had to give her this. He could not be happy knowing he had truly backed the woman he now cared so much for into such a corner.
She needed to have her freedom.
“I understand how you feel, and I promise–”
“Alexander, you do not understand.” She dropped her hand, lifting her eyes to meet his to show many tears had leaked across her pale cheeks. The hand encased within his was still clutching just as tightly to his own. She no more wanted to let go of him than he did her. “I appreciate your attempt to comfort me, but you have no knowledge of what I am feeling. You cannot understand what it is like to lose a brother, let alone two. You have no siblings.”
Alexander moved to the seat beside her, pressing them closer together.
“Cleopatra, I–”
“No more, Alexander. Please. I know you are trying to offer comfort but let us have some silence for a bit.” The words with which Cleopatra had spoken made the guilt grow deeper for Alexander.
He turned his gaze out of the window, watching as the blur of houses and other carriages drifted past them. He barely saw them and he gave them no attention at all. His mind was too consumed with Cleopatra and the secret he had been keeping.
He held her hand tighter.
I cannot keep the secret from her anymore. I have to tell her. No, I have to show her. No more secrets between us.
Chapter Nineteen
As Cleopatra stepped into the Manor with Alexander at her side, she found Mrs. Webb standing expectantly on the other side. One look at their countenance told the housekeeper all she needed to know. She dropped her eyes to the floor with despondency.
“I take it there is no sign of poor John.”
“None, Mrs. Webb,” Cleopatra trained her feet toward the stairs, determined to be on her own. She wanted to be free of them all – free of Alexander’s penetrating stare, free of Mrs. Webb’s sadness and free of her own fears for John’s safety.
“Before you retire to rest,” Alexander took Cleopatra’s arm and led her toward the steps. “There is something I must show you.”
“My Lord?” Mrs. Webb stepped forward, calling their feet to a halt on the stairs.
“Do not worry, Mrs. Webb. It is time.” Alexander urged with a soft nod, drawing in Cleopatra’s curiosity. She glanced between the two of them, debating on Alexander’s resigned sadness and Mrs. Webb’s fear. “Could you prepare some food for us please to be brought to the west wing?”
The west wing?!
“Of course, My Lord.” Mrs. Webb dropped a curtsy and hurried off to do his bidding.
“The west wing?” Cleopatra repeated with a questioning tone.
“Yes, come with me.” He placed her hand in the crook of his elbow as he led the way up the stairs.
Consumed with tiredness, she held tightly to his arm. Nerves suddenly fluttered in Cleopatra’s stomach, penetrating through her gloom and mood of sadness.
“What is it that you keep in there? Why is no one allowed to see what is in the west wing?” Her voice came out in a flurry of words. “Are all your servants party to your secret? Or is it just your guests you keep your secret from?”
He looked down at her with somber eyes.
“It is easier to show you than to explain.”
She bit her lip to stop herself from resuming her questions, though she bubbled with them. Each moment a new question occurred to her.
As they reached the top of the stairs, he turned their path toward the west wing. At the door, he pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. Cleopatra’s eyes darted between him and the doorway. Her breathing grew heavy as the lock clicked and the door opened.
She blinked as she stepped inside, trying to adjust her gaze to the candlelit room. Alexander released his hold on her arm, allowing her to walk into the center of the space.
It was a fine room. A parlor of a kind with two doors coming off that had to lead to private chambers. The space was decorated in pastel greens and creams and afforded every luxury, with fine furniture, chairs and tables, sweet paintings and a large fireplace that filled the room with heat.
Cleopatra’s gaze drew near to the fire where there were drawings and discarded paints with inkwells on their side and quills in a bundle. She moved toward them, about to analyze them in detail when Alexander’s words brought her to a sharp halt.
“Allina, Sweetheart?”
Allina? She repeated the name in her head as she flicked up her gaze to Alexander with suspicion. Sweetheart?
“There you are.” His voice was soft, gentler than she had ever heard it. She watched his face crack into a truly heartwarming smile, and then she turned her eyes to see who he was looking at.
Standing in the doorway leading to one of the other chambers was a young woman. Bearing dark hair, a plump figure and amazing blue eyes, she was a remarkably pretty girl.
All sorts of horrifying thoughts ran through Cleopatra’s mind as she looked between Alexander and the young woman, Allina.
Would he truly do anything so vile as to keep a woman a prisoner here?
Her body froze in fear, waiting to see how the woman would respond.
“Alexander!” the woman cried, her face spreading into a lopsided smile. She hurried forward, skipping with each step. As she reached Alexander, she threw her arms around his stomach and he embraced her back.
Cleopatra watched with her mouth agape, her mind struggling to form an understanding of the events that were unfolding before her.
“How are you today, Sweetheart?”
“I did a new painting today. Would you like to see?” The innocence in the voice startled Cleopatra. Something was off about the way the woman had spoken.
“I would love to.”
“It’s here, next to Alfred.” The young woman picked up a stuffed bear from a chair and presented it to Alexander. “Alfred has been naughty today!” she declared with a giggle, “he kept falling on the paint.”
“Ah, I see,” Alexander took the bear from her hands. “He still has some paint on his cheeks.” He tried to pick off the dried paint.
“I could not get it clean.” Allina looked afeared as she picked up a piece of paper that bore a painting still glistening with fresh paint. As though she was a child fearing rebuke for doing something wrong.
“Not to worry, Sweetheart, I’ll get it cleaned for you.” Alexander comforted the woman then turned his gaze to Cleopatra.
She was still struggling to understand what was passing, but her mind had absorbed one thing.
Though she had the appearance of an adult, Allina was still very much a child at heart. Cleopatra’s gaze darted around the room. Besides the painting implements, there were other toys, including boards for simple games, and there were a couple of china dolls in the corner of the room.
It was as though the room had been furnished for a child to play in.
“What do you think?” Allina held the painting up for Alexander’s approval.
“Wonderful, Sweetheart. It is a beautiful painting. We will have to hang it with your others.” He took the painting from her hands. “Allina, there is someone I would like you to meet.” Alexander placed the bear and the painting down on a chair beside him
and took the young woman’s arm. He steered her toward Cleopatra. “This is my wife, Cleopatra.”
“Cleopatra!” The woman’s blue eyes lit up. “I have heard so much about you.” Allina threw her arms around Cleopatra, startling her so much that she was nearly knocked from her feet. Cleopatra held the woman back for a moment, but she was soon released.
“You have?”
“Oh yes, Alexander talks of little else. I am so pleased to meet you at last. Do you like games? I hope so. I like to play games. Alexander said you might not like them and that we had to wait and see.”
In Temptation and Damnation with the Earl: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 15