*
The carriage had arrived on time, but Minnie remained in bed. Alex had arrived a few hours later, but she hadn’t let him in either. When she finally the nerve to open the front door to her apartment, a note waited on the floor saying he was leaving.
That was all. He had asked and she had refused, and once again they were to be finished.
In the week since, her thoughts dwelled on Alex, on the possibility of his offer. And then tragedy struck.
Chantal arrived at her doorstep, begging for help, about to have a child. She was in the care of Peprin before he drowned while on a yacht in Greece. She had sold everything she could, but had little. Minnie took her in, but it was no matter. Chantal died in childbirth, her beautiful baby girl two hours later. The funeral had been a lonely business, for Minnie arranged it and was the only one in attendance.
She had returned, still dressed in black, staring out the windows from her writing desk. Her collection of orchids stood guard, reminding her of a life that seemed long since forgotten—that of a little girl who lost her parents in India. The daughter of a philandering botanist and a narcissistic socialite, not a ballerina. Minnie could run for the jungles forever, but eventually she’d always meet the sea.
As she sat that evening in her parlor, staring out her darkened windows overlooking the city that had given itself to her, demanding the same of her, she penned a letter to Alex. She posted it the next morning, having never been to bed.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
3 weeks later
Off the coast of Donegal, Ireland
Minnie had crossed the ocean twice in a matter of weeks. Once to London, to secure a townhouse for herself, then to Ireland to make amends for a wrong that haunted her. She wasted no time on travel. Being in the company of Duke of Ashbornham helped expedite matters exponentially.
“Well, we’re here,” she announced, her words dripping in acrid distaste. The carriage rocked to a stop as her hand pressed against the fogged window.
In one painful breath, the mystery of Alex Marwick unfolded.
Without even having stepped outside, the horror of it all seeped inside her until her body felt filthy and repulsive. The piercing cries of seagulls echoed off the cliffs, the waves crashing against the stony shore, one violent hit after another.
“I never wanted to s-see this dreadful place again.”
She opened her eyes at that. If Isaac’s wife, Nora, had traveled five months pregnant to help, then Minnie could drum up the courage to finish this task. No matter how unpleasant.
“I wish you both would have remained in London. I could have dealt with this matter.” Isaac met Minnie’s stare, twirling his cane in his hand to quiet his obvious anger. Older though he was, Isaac would remain the young man who waltzed with her when she was a little girl at Burton Hall. The silly man who would make her laugh and act like a jester. He was the reason she felt as though Burton Hall was a home.
“We should have brought Lucy. She would have handled the task with bloody efficiency.” Minnie received another scolding look form Isaac, as if she were a petulant child. “Perhaps not. She was more a gentle giant than a killer.”
“Lucy was never wild,” Isaac said. “But she was a tiger and tigers kill.”
Nora rubbed the sleepiness from her face and looked between Isaac and Minnie as they volleyed their comments, as if they knew they were not solely speaking of the Ravensdales’ pet of Minnie’s childhood.
She was in no mood for polite barbs from a friend. Truth be told, she was all too unsettled at discerning what shaped Alex into the man he was.
“I was prepared to face this alone, Isaac. There is no need for your intervention.”
He leaned forward, his fingers curling over his cane’s handle in a dramatic wave. “There was every reason when my wife insisted on helping you.”
“Please,” Nora said. “I’m not in s-such a condition that would prevent me from helping. I have delivered t-three babies without complication.” She patted Minnie’s knee. “We women must s-stay strong to-together.”
“I can try to understand the circumstances—”
“Then try, Isaac,” Minnie interrupted. His eyebrows rose at her impertinence. “My parents are dead and I have no need for another father. But I am in need of a friend. I know you do not approve of what I have done with my life, but it is not yours to govern. I ask that you do not hold that against Mr. Marwick. We are here today for him.”
“We are here today because of his relationship with you. A relationship that makes me wish I were your father so I could lock you up and keep you safe and protect—”
“We are h-here to help Mr. Marwick and t-to make right what happened to my dear Danny, Isaac. You h-h-have two daughters as it is. Minnie is correct. She needs y-you to be her friend in this m-matter.”
The world grew smaller, the air colder, as Minnie watched the way Isaac glanced over at his wife, so blatantly and preposterously in love. She waited for her temper to flare, but only an empty yearning carved away at her heart and made her eyes prick with tears. It wasn’t possible to be in love as Isaac and Nora loved each other.
Except that was a lie. So was the way Minnie had to force herself to stop thinking of Alex and love in the same sentence. It was the natural course of things, for her heart to beat, for her to breathe, for her to feel alive at the thought of him.
She jumped from the carriage, forcing herself forward because in that moment she must or she might yield to her feelings like the soft gravel beneath her boots.
The dismal place was draped in gray as if it were permanently in a state of mourning. Even the sandy beach was dull and lifeless, the water aphotic and sinister. The ocean ate away at the coastline in jagged edges. Perched above on a cliff, a few trees scattered down the gentle slope to a stone building’s entrance. There was nothing that spoke of life except for constant cry of the gulls swooping across the gray sky. No lights from within. Even the windows were dark, as if someone had painted them black from the outside to conceal the secrets dwelling within. And this was the place where her Alex had suffered. Where he grew up. He was braver than she ever believed, to have endured a place such as this and to leave fighting. Such indissoluble strength.
Minnie didn’t wait for Isaac and Nora. She marched forward and slammed her gloved hand against the door. She demanded entry. Let there be no mistake at her ladylike appearance; her lace gloves could strike a man just as well as a door.
“I don’t think knocking is prudent when we mean to take them by surprise, pet.” Isaac reached around her and tried the door knob, but it was locked. He plucked the hat pin from Minnie’s hair and inserted it into the lock.
Nora stood beside Isaac and nodded, silently agreeing with her husband’s stealthy prowess. “Best to s-surprise them,” she whispered.
Minnie sure was. There had always been clues about Isaac and her uncle that suggested they were more than titled gentlemen. Her uncle especially—all tattooed brawn. He could level all of London in an afternoon if he wished. But Isaac seemed more finessed, skilled at the finer points of whatever secrets they both harbored.
The lock clicked and the door gave an inch, but it would not open fully when pushed.
“I thought you would be n-needing these,” Nora said, pulling out a metallic tool from her beaded reticule.
“Oh, my darling adventurer,” Isaac said, kissing the top of her head. “Stand back.” He clipped the first of several chains that held the door shut.
He returned the tool to Nora and shoved the door open with a kick of his boot. The stench was intolerable. Without even having stepped inside, Minnie realized it was human suffering, not the building’s age that was making her nauseated.
On a shaky breath, she launched past Isaac, her temper red-hot as she scanned the empty hall. Only darkness. A thin veil of light glowed from the window above the wide stairway in the middle of the room, but there were still far too many shadows to make sense of what surrounded her.
; Cries muffled from the floor above crept down the stairs like the thick fog outside, then a piercing scream echoed off the walls. She could run. She could turn and flee before it was too late, but Alex never had a choice. This place robbed him of innocence, of a childhood, of a mother and a loving family. She ran up the stairs two at a time, hauling her heavy skirts past her knees as she rushed toward the tumult.
“Minnie,” Isaac whispered, “wait.”
That was the problem. She had waited long enough for this end. Alex deserved an answer and she had the means to see it delivered.
But she halted as she reached the top of the stairs. A body lay on the floor, the face staring blankly at the stained ceiling. The body was too far starved to tell if it was a man or a woman. Only rags covered its middle.
Isaac knocked away her hand. “It’s too late,” he whispered into her ear. He bent around her and drew his fingers over the glassy eyes until they closed, the skin waxy and discolored.
In the carriage, Nora had instructed them where the office was located. It was time to find out if it had moved. Minnie swallowed, fighting off the bitter taste of bile in her mouth, and walked around the poor soul. She only needed to make it to the end of the hallway. One foot in front of the other. Cries broke out around her from behind closed doors. There were others in the hallway, chained to a railing. Most were silent; a few stared at Minnie blankly, as if they were in a different world completely.
This was hell on earth.
“Oy, you can’t be here,” a man said, barreling out a side door toward her. Keys clicked against his hip as he rushed over. Isaac drew out a pistol and pointed it at the man’s head. He was twice the size of Isaac, but that didn’t seem to play into his decision of threatening the other man’s life.
Nora looped her arm around Minnie’s, but the danger was too much for her to stand by. Minnie shielded Nora.
“I beg to differ,” Isaac said, clicking back the pistol’s hammer. “I have six reasons why you should agree. Lead us to the man in charge.”
The man looked at Minnie with the same disgusting flare of lust she received from men now and again. A shiver ran over her as she fought back the memories. She could overcome them. No one could hurt her. Wild hearts were impossible to break.
“Make that twelve,” she said, pulling the pistol from her reticule. She shoved the barrel against his neck. “Your boss. Now.”
*
Alex tapped at the glass, his brows pinched as he waited for the minute hand to move. He snapped the gold piece shut, and nodded to the portly man opposite him as if he were listening to the man drone on about some such.
Then he heard that soft voice reply to his footman out in the hall, wresting Alex out of his drawing room like a siren call. He willed his steps to slow, to give the impression that he wasn’t completely undone by having her step foot in his house. He only took longer strides instead.
Minnie strolled into his foyer, observing the entrance with guarded interest. She nodded to Alex from beneath her extravagant hat, a dusting of snow falling onto the tiled floor as the maid helped her with her coat and muff. She didn’t say a word, but he waited, his hands clutched behind his back. Inside, he was nothing more than a puppy pawing at the door, waiting for his master to come home. It had been weeks since he had accompanied her back to London. Weeks too long and much too many before she stood before him again.
The maid removed a long pearl pin from Minnie’s hat, then another, and pulled it free—revealing the lovely strawberry blond locks from long ago.
That undid him.
Not the fine dress she wore—a deep crimson velvet, very prim and proper in silhouette. The matrons would appreciate her fine taste. They were expecting a wild wanton. No doubt, that was why he had not received a single declination to his party this evening. London was eager to discover the wicked creature he loved.
“Miss Ravensdale,” he said, bowing as he should. Her face was impassive. She was nervous.
He should have waited for her greeting, but instead he followed his gut and rushed forward, gripping her thin wrists. He steered them into an empty room on the right, some place he had never even stepped foot in before now, and shut the door. He drew her against his body, his lips crashing over hers, full of hunger. She had disappeared on him and he had missed her. A small part of him even feared she had left him once more for good.
Her lips parted in a small sigh as he traced the inside of her mouth with his tongue. She leaned into his touch, the cold of the winter still fresh upon her cheeks as he cupped her face with his hands. He would warm her up. Once he was satisfied that she was kissed senseless, he brushed his lips over tip of her nose and forehead, finally stealing one last kiss.
“Alex.” His name left her lips on a staggered breath. The strange impassive look from the foyer had faded. “A simple hello would have sufficed.”
“Hello, darling.”
She smiled a bit, enough so that he knew she was happy, if not a bit reluctant. Her hand worked at her hair, which he had been careful not to mess.
“Your hair is fine,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. Alex knew ‘fine’ was never the sort of compliment a woman wanted to hear. He was fresh out of synonyms for beautiful in that moment. She had kissed away all of his elegant flirtations. It would take a moment to recover. “I think it’s time for your introduction to London society, Miss Ravensdale.”
“I would prefer to stay here with you.” Minnie drew a finger across his chest, stopping below his bow tie. She straightened it with another tap of her finger and smiled. She draped her hand over his arm as if they were perfect strangers, which was a ridiculous lie. She was every bit as etched on his heart as he was on hers. “Lead the way, Mr. Marwick.”
*
Dinner had been a success, or so it seemed, until Alex rushed off to take care of business, leaving Minnie alone to entertain a party curious and rabid for details of her life in Paris.
Minnie knocked softly once she found his quarters and heard his answering “Hmm.” Alex sat with his back to the door, bent over a stack of papers in a feverish fit of scribbling.
“They have all gone home.”
“Hmm,” he answered again, stuck in his own world.
Minnie answered his disinterest with a sigh. The doorway to his bedroom was opened to her left. The well-appointed mahogany bed was turned down and ready for sleep.
The lights in the sitting room were dimmed to a soft glow, reflected off polished paneling that reached halfway to the high ceilings. The ceilings themselves consisted of extravagant plasterwork of scrolls and flourishes, closely resembling the stately apartments of Paris. The tall bow window was dressed in lush cranberry velvet, pooling onto the polished herringbone floors.
“You disappeared from your own party,” she said, sashaying across the room.
“I thought of something,” he muttered, keeping his head down. “I’m finishing now. I’ll be down momentarily.”
“No hurry.” Her teeth worried the top of her finger and tugged at the satin fabric until it loosened. “They’ve all gone,” she repeated. First the pinky finger, then the ring finger, middle finger. Still, his focus was on the papers in his hands. She leaned against the desk, slowly peeling the glove down her arm until she met his stare. “Did I behave well tonight?” she asked, spreading her arms behind her.
“Yes,” he swallowed. His azure eyes made an efficient sweep of her, assessing, as if he didn’t understand she was undressing for him. “Yes,” he said again, returning back to his papers.
“I think everyone found the rumors about Evangeline Dupree hard to believe. I was a saint at your table this evening.”
“I believe the word you’re searching for is respectable.”
“A respectable actress?”
He didn’t even grin. All Minnie heard was the scratching of his pen and it grated her nerves. The man was impossible to seduce. Minnie stripped the other glove off and tossed it over her shoulder as she sauntered into his bedr
oom.
A fire was lit in the marble fireplace, bouncing off the stark white walls. Besides the intricacies of plasterwork, the room was bare of decoration except for the velvet curtains framing the two tall windows.
Minnie took in the details of the room, slowly unbuttoning the side of her dress until it fell open and she stepped out of it. The room looked unlived in. Somehow that was fitting of Alex. His house was grand, even for her tastes. She tossed her dress over a chair and walked to the doorway. “Behaving myself is dull.” She braced her arms above her head on the doorjamb. Finally, she had his attention.
“Darling?” His voice was suddenly husky. A shiver chased down Minnie’s spine. He collected himself from his shock and smiled a slow, calculating smile. It was worth the discomfort of wearing her red corset without a chemise for his look alone.
“And I’m so tired,” she declared, swinging her hips as she retreated back into his room. She felt him watching as she stopped at the foot of his bed. With a glance over her shoulder, she climbed onto the coverlet. With a final flourish, she propped herself into a deep sea of pillows, casting him an inviting brow, daring him to make the next move.
“You’re in my bed, Minnie.”
There was a beat that could have filled centuries before she said, “I won’t tell, if you don’t.”
Alex threw his head back to stare at the ceiling. “You were put on this Earth to haunt me.”
She let out a rough breath, her body growing warm with anticipation. “I’m here in the flesh. Have me.”
Alex loosened his tie, his eyes pinning her in place. A coin flipped over in between his fingers as he studied her. She was about to protest when he dropped it to the floor, stalking closer. She feared he would stand at the end of the bed forever, simply staring at her with enough intensity that she felt as if he was making love to her. She wanted more, of course, and finally he snapped back to the present and crawled up onto the bed.
A Proper Scandal (Ravensdale Family Book 2) Page 22