“We’re not giving up,” Mrs. Vale said gently. She sat on the ottoman in front of Lucy and took the younger woman’s hand. “There’s no one else for us to ask, but that doesn’t mean we must give up. We will keep our eyes open, bide our time. Perhaps your brothers will uncover some clue yet.”
Lucy blinked hard to banish the tears stinging her eyes. “I can’t do it. I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I have to find him.”
Mrs. Vale clutched Lucy’s hand harder. She returned the squeeze. Although she shut her eyes, tears leaked from the corners.
“I can’t do it,” she whispered. “I feel so helpless.”
“I know. I feel the same way about Charlie’s father.”
Lucy’s eyes opened. Her lips parted. “Are you saying that Alex is dead?”
“No. That isn’t what I’m saying at all. Didn’t Charlie tell you?”
Lucy looked from Charlie to her mother. The younger Vale shook her head in response to her mother’s question.
Mrs. Vale explained. “My husband is still alive. His death was faked in order for me to get close to Lord Harker and keep an eye on him. My husband was assigned a position in France, in the thick of the war. I worry about him every day, but there’s nothing I can do except to wait for his assignment to be over in order for us to be reunited again.”
Lucy didn’t know what to say. That was horrible. They would make that sacrifice in order to serve their country? Lucy didn’t know whether she would voluntarily separate from the man she loved for years, even if it would save lives. Perhaps she was too selfish. All she wanted was to get Alex back, no matter the cost.
Lucy swallowed hard. “You know where your husband is, even if he’s in the thick of danger. We can’t find Alex. What if we never can?” She pulled away and wiped the hot tears from her cheeks. “I think I love him. I have to find him.” If she didn’t, they would have no hope of a future.
He had chosen revenge over her, but that hadn’t stopped her from trying to find him. Simply because he had been a brash idiot didn’t mean that she didn’t love him. They meant something to each other. They had to. And if she didn’t find him, she would never know what that something would become.
Charlie said nothing, but hugged Lucy’s shoulders. Considering her disdain for Alex, the gesture meant a lot. Mrs. Vale, who also hadn’t seemed fond of him, looked sympathetic as she patted Lucy’s knee.
“Your brothers will find him. Have faith.”
If they couldn’t find Alex soon, Lucy didn’t know how long her faith would last. She could do nothing except wait.
26
It couldn’t be true. Mrs. Vale’s contact had to have been mistaken. Why would Alex have disappeared for two weeks only to turn up unannounced in her brother’s townhouse? Lucy’s heart thundered as she brushed past Mr. O’Neill onto the premises. She raced upstairs to Morgan’s office. Alex couldn’t be here… He just couldn’t. If he was all right, why hadn’t he come to her first?
The door to the office was closed. When she tried the latch, she found that it wasn’t locked. She stormed in and froze on the threshold.
“Where have you been?” Morgan said, standing from behind his desk, his gaze like sharp stones.
Alex stood in front of him. Despite Morgan’s cutting tone and expression, Alex’s stance was casual. He held his arms loose at his sides. He wore a dark gray coat and tan breeches, both of which showed no signs of wear. His shoulders were relaxed. His hair was a bit wind-tossed, but from behind there was no sign that he had ever been accosted by the enemy.
“Alex.”
The moment she spoke his name, he turned. He looked hale and whole. A bit weary, perhaps. There was a shadow in his eyes. She’d expected him to light up when he saw her, to be as relieved at their reunion as she was. He must be terribly fatigued. Perhaps that was why he’d presented himself to Morgan instead of her.
At the moment, it didn’t matter. Her knees felt like hot water. She launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight. He made no move to hug her back, though he didn’t stiffen. Perhaps he was afraid of Morgan’s reaction. Morgan tended to have that effect on men who considered courting her. She’d bring him around.
She took comfort in Alex’s warm, solid body. He was here. He was home. That was all that mattered. She sank back on her heels, cupping his cheeks in her hands as she looked at him. He’d shaved recently, his cheeks only the slightest bit rough. “What happened?”
Instead of looking her in the eye, he looked over one shoulder. “I needed time to think.”
What? She frowned, dropping her hands. “Time to think about what? What happened with Monsieur V?”
“He wasn’t at the house.”
Lucy could readily believe that, considering that it had been a house where he had sent a package, not someplace she had presumed him to stay. However, Alex delivered the information flatly. Had he been disappointed?
“Why did you leave your ring?”
“I needed time to think.”
Yes. He’d said that. It still didn’t clear anything up. And why wouldn’t he look her in the eye? She balled her fists at her sides, trying not to show her frustration.
“You needed time to think about what?”
“Us.”
Her breath hitched. She hadn’t known that their relationship had required thought. Was he going to propose to her? She glanced at Morgan, hoping he wouldn’t be a prat about it, even if he didn’t approve of Alex. She approved. She loved him. She knew he was a good man.
Turning back to Alex, she said, “You should have left a note. I was worried for you. I feared the worst.”
“I left you the ring.”
That had only made her worry more. She’d thought he was dead! How could he do that to her? Her knees were weak, but she bit her tongue. She didn’t want to drive him away, not when he’d finally come home.
He held out his hand, palm up. “Can I have it back, please?”
She glanced at Morgan. Her brother opened his top desk drawer and pulled out the ring. He handed it to Alex, who slipped it onto his index finger.
Look at me, Lucy begged. She pressed her lips together to keep from saying a word. Was he shy because Morgan was in the room with him?
She shot her brother a pleading glance. “Could you give us a moment?”
“No need,” Alex said, his voice wooden.
She clenched her teeth as she turned to him. “There is every need! You were gone for two weeks. I thought you were dead.”
“I had to think—”
“About us,” she bit off. “Yes. You’ve said.” He didn’t seem like a man who was about to get down on bended knee. If anything, he seemed more like a man who was on the verge of collapse. He held himself upright in a relaxed pose, but his voice and eyes belied that stance. What had happened to him?
She reached for him, but he took a step back.
“Please, don’t touch me.”
She glanced to her brother, who wore an impassive expression. He didn’t interrupt, but he eyed the exchange with a shrewd gaze.
“It’s fine. Alex, please—”
“You should call me Lord Brackley.”
The correction was like a slap in the face. Call him by his title after all they’d been through? He cared for her.
“Why?”
“What happened between us…it won’t happen again.”
Lucy’s mouth gaped. She couldn’t speak. She swallowed hard and licked her lips. “What are you talking about?”
“Our association is over, my lady.”
No. It couldn’t be. She loved him. He cared for her too, she knew he did.
She took a step closer. This time, he didn’t move away, but he turned his face away from her. He looked at her brother instead, as if requesting that Morgan remove her.
“Our association is not over,” she bit off. “You said you cared for me.”
“I lied.”
She couldn’t breathe, let a
lone speak. Her knees threatened to buckle. She didn’t know how she remained standing.
No. He couldn’t have lied. It must not be true.
Then, finally, he looked at her. The shadow was still in his eyes. Or was it merely a cold, dark expression?
“I only told you that so that you would share your information and leads about Monsieur V. I don’t need you anymore.”
She reeled. She looked to her brother for help, only to be met with a hard expression. It went without his saying that he considered this to be for the best. But it wasn’t for the best. Alex couldn’t have lied the entire time, could he? He had been warm, passionate even. A man couldn’t fake that.
For her fragile heart, she wanted one of the men to tell her that it couldn’t be faked. Neither did. Her eyes welled with tears.
Morgan met her gaze plainly but didn’t say a word. Had he done this? Had he scared Alex off, convinced him not to pursue Lucy any longer? It was unforgivable.
But even if he had tried, Alex didn’t have to have acceded so easily. Lucy wouldn’t have, in his place. She would have fought for the good thing that they’d had.
Apparently, he hadn’t cared for her as much as she’d hoped. His revenge had been an easy choice over her.
Unable to stay a moment longer, she tore from the room, slamming the door behind her. Neither man followed.
27
When Lucy stepped into the breakfast room, she stopped short. “Mother?” Was she dreaming? She’d left her mother at Tenwick Abbey, coddling her first grandchild.
The stately woman raised her eyebrows. If Lucy looked half as good when she had five grown children, she would be happy. Mother had a bit of gray woven in with her dark brown hair, but otherwise didn’t look a day over forty. Her gray eyes weren’t as piercing as Morgan’s; Lucy had always imagined them more stormy, clouding over the emotions she kept from her face.
“You seem surprised to see me. This is my house.”
On paper, it belonged to Morgan, the Duke. But he had moved into his wife’s townhouse upon marrying her, so in essence, the Tenwick townhouse was Mother’s.
Mustering a thin sort of smile, Lucy took a seat at the table. The family had always preferred an informal dining arrangement, keeping no more chairs than needed to fit the family. There wasn’t much space between Lucy and her mother. She’d risen early to avoid the rest of the household, hoping to shut herself away in her room again today.
Three days had passed since Alex had cast her off. Every time she thought about facing anyone, even friends and family, she felt exhausted. She didn’t know how he could have fooled her so well. She’d been certain, so certain that he cared for her as much as she did him. Wadding her handkerchief in her hand as a footman set her breakfast in front of her, Lucy tried to muster the raw anger she’d felt toward him at first. She couldn’t. She was too tired.
Mother changed chairs to sit next to Lucy. She laid her hand atop her daughter’s.
Lucy fought to smile and squeeze Mother’s hand, but it felt like a thin veneer. Mother had always been astute in guessing the hearts of her children. “I thought you were at Tenwick Abbey. When did you arrive?”
“Not long ago. I drove throughout the night. Phil has matters well in hand for a few days. She has a mother’s instincts. Freddie and Felicia are there as well to lend their support.”
Perhaps. Lucy had thought nothing could pry mother away from the company of her first grandchild, though.
Mother patted Lucy’s hand. “I thought Morgan had things well in hand when it came to searching for Lord Brackley. I tried my contacts as well, of course, but that is something that could be done from Tenwick Abbey. Now, however, it is clear that you need me here.”
I don’t. Lucy swallowed the lie. Tears welled in her throat and she tried not to cry. She felt watery inside. She’d never felt this way, so weak and vulnerable. Perhaps having Mother nearby wasn’t the worst idea.
“You tried your contacts? Why?” How had mother even known they were looking for Alex? She seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere, Lucy supposed that was a mother’s instincts.
Mother gave Lucy an arch look. “I have different contacts than your brother, I’ll have you know, a much wider net. You must know I’d go to any lengths necessary to help when you’re in need.”
Well, yes. Lucy had never doubted that. But Mother’s contacts were old women from le bon ton, weren’t they? The only people with whom Mother ever associated were peers. No wonder she hadn’t found him. What Lucy had needed was the reach of spies.
It hadn’t helped, in any case. Alex hadn’t returned and when he’d come back…he had been different. Perhaps he’d simply discarded the mask he’d used to woo her.
“You’re in pain,” Mother said.
I’m heartbroken. Lucy didn’t speak the words out loud. Instead, she retracted her hand and pretended to be interested in her breakfast.
“He wasn’t the man I thought he was. He only left to…to avoid me.”
“That may not be true.”
Lucy swallowed around the lump in her throat. She blinked hard to dispel the threat of tears. “I know Morgan could force him to marry me, but I don’t want that. If he doesn’t want me, then I don’t want him, either.”
If only it were so simple. She didn’t want a man who treated her as coldly and distantly as Alex had upon their last meeting. But her fickle heart insisted that that man wasn’t him. He was the passionate, driven man who she had fallen in love with. If she was reading this in a book, she would be screaming at the heroine to look at the facts and face reality. It was much easier said than done. She couldn’t help the way she felt.
“Don’t give up.”
Lucy met her mother’s gaze, confused. Alex had cast her aside as if she was rubbish and Mother was taking his side? “On Alex—Lord Brackley?”
Crinkles formed in the corner of Mother’s eyes. “Or on love. It’s worth fighting for. All might not be as it seems. Perhaps your Lord Brackley isn’t acting as himself.”
Or perhaps he finally was. Lucy pushed her capers around her plate with her fork. “He made himself perfectly clear.”
“I’m certain he said terrible things, but you don’t yet know why he did. Don’t give up on him—but do be careful, dear. Renewing your association might be dangerous.”
She raised her gaze once more. “Dangerous how?” She’d already had her heart trampled. “How do you know this isn’t how he usually acts and the way he’s been with me has only been an act?”
“Call it a mother’s intuition. No one is that skilled an actor, not even Lord Brackley.” She reached out, stopping Lucy from playing with her food. “Have I ever told you that I once doubted your father? If I hadn’t sought him out and learned the truth of his feelings, I would never have had you or your brothers. Love is worth fighting for. Just be careful.”
Lucy opened her mouth to answer, but Mrs. Vale entered the breakfast room. Not wanting to discuss her battered heart in front of the other woman, Lucy shut her mouth.
However, as she applied herself to eating her breakfast, she couldn’t help but wonder. This was the second time Mother had cautioned her. What did she think would happen if Lucy chased after Alex? He had torn apart her heart but he would never hurt her physically. If he did, then he truly wouldn’t be acting as himself.
She shook her head. It didn’t matter, anyway, because she didn’t intend to chase after him. He’d made himself more than clear in the callous way he’d treated her.
Lucy meant nothing to him.
28
Morgan Graylocke didn’t trust him. Of that, Alex was absolutely certain. He didn’t know whether it was due to his abrupt end to the courtship with Lucy or due to his unannounced absence, but Morgan assigned him only the smallest of tasks. The sort accomplished by spies still in training. At first, he performed them without complaint. But as weeks passed and his requests for bigger assignments were met with cold refusals and the kind of glare that froze a man from hi
s insides out, he became increasingly frustrated.
He wasn’t the only one.
“That’s all?” The man standing in front of Alex spat on the ground.
They stood in a shadowed alcove outside a gaming hell, where Alex had resumed his outward mask of carousing in order to attend to the tasks Morgan had set him. The door to the establishment opened, releasing a torrent of noise. Loud voices, taunts, laughter, laments. All tinged with the slur that indicated those responsible were well into their cups.
The noise bathed over Alex and away from him, leaving him untouched. Numbly, he stared at the man in front of him—swathed in shadow, but Alex knew his identity. He knew the man’s identity and somewhere far below the surface he believed that he should care. He didn’t.
“Tenwick refuses to assign me to more sensitive pursuits. He doesn’t trust me, likely over the fallout with his sister.”
Though it was clear that Lucy hadn’t spoken of their night together. If she had, Morgan would have sought revenge against Alex in some form. He didn’t know whether to be grateful or disappointed. He felt neither emotion.
“Then make amends with her.” The man bit off his words.
Dimly, Alex considered them. Make amends? “She would know.” What would she know? His thoughts were thick, cloudy. That he cared?
No, she would know that he didn’t care. He had cared. Somewhere, perhaps he still did, but he couldn’t find that place. All that was left in its place was smoke that curled through his mental fingers.
“It won’t matter.” The man sliced his hand through the air. The action brought Alex back to equilibrium. Less confused. All he had to do was listen and obey. “If you can’t get me the information that I require, then you’re of no use to me.”
Alex stood still, waiting for the man to come to a decision. Nothing in his last statement had given Alex a command to obey.
Something sparked in the back of his mind. A flame, deep and cloudy as if behind a thick wall of glass. Anger. Outrage. It flared, but couldn’t break through. Alex felt a thin sort of warmth as he stared at the man in front of him. It dissipated quickly, leaving him dark.
Pursuing The Traitor (Scandals and Spies Book 5) Page 19