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

by Adele Clee

  “Make sure you shake it out before you put it back on,” Elliot said with an arrogant smile. “Although you’re more likely to find a worm crawling inside than a sharp piece of glass.”

  Contorting his body, Elliot managed to twist his arm through the gap and once he’d pushed the sash up an inch, Alexander gripped the bottom to assist him.

  They climbed through the window and stood in the middle of the kitchen.

  “Something’s wrong here,” Elliot said glancing around the room.

  A cold chill hung in the air and they stood in silence and scanned the walls, floor and furniture. Alexander noticed the loaf of bread on a board at the end of the table. He walked over, pulled off a chunk and popped it into his mouth before he could change his mind. It tasted hard, as dry as sawdust. The muscles in his stomach and chest spasmed and he spat it out onto the floor.

  “Don’t start with bread,” Elliot said incredulously. “You need something more moist, something easier to digest. Besides, it looks like that’s all they’ve got to eat.”

  Alexander walked over to the range, touched the iron door and top plate and peered inside. “It’s stone cold. It doesn’t look as though there’s been a meal prepared in days.”

  Elliot wandered off down the corridor, and Alexander heard him open a door, walk a little further and open another door.

  “There are no servants down here,” Elliot said returning to the kitchen. “I doubt there are any in the house.”

  “Are you certain you have the right address?”

  Elliot raised a brow. “I waited for them to leave and followed them home. They hired a hackney as soon as they’d left the square.”

  “A hackney?”

  Alexander recalled the conversation he’d had with the bridle thief at Mytton Grange. Sutherby hadn’t paid his servants, and there were no servants at this property, either.

  “He’s obviously in debt.” Elliot glanced up at the ceiling and put his finger to his lips. “Did you hear that?”

  Numerous footsteps accompanied the sound of voices drifting down the stairs, the noise getting progressively louder.

  “Bloody hell,” Alexander whispered. “They’re coming down. Quick, close the sash.”

  Elliot closed the window, wincing as he tried not to make any noise. “Outside,” he whispered, pointing to the door.

  Alexander unlocked the door and took the key. “I’ll lock it from the outside.”

  They plastered their backs against the wall, each standing on opposite sides of the window. The warm glow flickering against the glass was a sure sign someone had entered the kitchen.

  They heard what sounded like pots banging, doors slamming. “What the hell am I supposed to eat? Even the street urchins would turn their noses up at this.”

  They heard sighs and muttered curses.

  “What are you complaining about now?” Miss Sutherby’s voice silenced her brother’s grumbling.

  “There’s no food.”

  “Of course, there is. There’s bread and fruit and a small chunk of cheese. I’m not a cook. I’m not a maid. Don’t expect me to wander the markets haggling for scraps.”

  “Bread and cheese? I’d be fed better if I was locked up in Newgate.”

  “And whose fault is that? Everything would have worked out perfectly if you’d not been so damn careless.”

  “Me! You’re the one who told me to secure a betrothal. One way or another, you said.”

  “Are you stupid? Miss Bromwell is far too intelligent to be won over with amorous kisses and moonlit liaisons.”

  Alexander couldn’t help but form a smug grin. Eve loved nothing more than secret liaisons and passionate kisses — just not with Mr. Sutherby.

  “I was desperate. I could have forced the deed had it not been for that devil Hale showing up.”

  Anger erupted in Alexander’s gut, and his fingers pulsated as he imagined throttling the man.

  Sensing his shift in mood, Elliot shook his head and waved his hands, a gesture to calm a volatile spirit.

  “The Earl of Hale obviously has designs on her himself,” Miss Sutherby said. “You’ve seen his estate. It’s practically a ruin. I’m sure Miss Bromwell’s sizable inheritance will go a long way to securing his land for future generations.”

  Elliot gave him a sidelong glance. “Inheritance?” he mouthed.

  Alexander shrugged. Although Miss Bromwell and her aunt moved about in Society, they appeared to live quite modestly. They’d hired a carriage to bring them to Mytton Grange and boasted only a handful of servants. Unless all of her inheritance was payable upon marriage.

  “Perhaps Hale is interested in more than her money. I’ve seen the way he looks at her. I mean she’s damnably pretty and always pleasant company.”

  “I knew it,” Miss Sutherby exclaimed. “You’ve developed a liking for her. I’ve seen it in your eyes when you speak to her.”

  “I have not.”

  “You believe yourself in love with her.”

  “I do not. Now you’re being ridiculous.”

  “If you think you’re going to marry her and not share the money with me, then you can think again. I know enough to see you swing from the highest tree.”

  “Miss Bromwell will not want to marry me now. Not after the debacle in the garden.”

  “Well, you had better hope that she does. We owe rent on this house and at Mytton Grange, not mention the bill for the modiste, the tailors —”

  “Perhaps we should just leave here and move on. What about York or Edinburgh?”

  “Move on!” Miss Sutherby shrieked. “It will take months to find another heiress. What are we supposed to eat in the meantime, Scotch mist? You really do say the most pathetic things.”

  “Why do you always treat me like a child? You take your role of sibling far too seriously.”

  “One of us has to take control else we’ll end up in debtor’s prison.”

  “Miss Bromwell never treats me like an idiot. She always smiles and nods and offers witty remarks. Perhaps I should just leave you and take my chances. You won’t say a thing. If I hang, so will you.”

  “You … you know you don’t mean that.” There was a nervous edge to her tone. “Miss Bromwell may smile and laugh, but she is a respectable lady, full of purity and virtue. You know she cannot give you what you want. She will run away from you like a frightened little kitten, hide away in the corner mewling and licking her paws.”

  The woman didn’t know Miss Bromwell very well at all.

  “Then perhaps you should remember that you need me,” he said. “Without me, none of this would be possible. Perhaps you should start being a little kinder, more appreciative.”

  “If you want kindness,” she said with a slow purr, “you shall have it.”

  The room fell silent. Alexander glanced at Elliot, who threw his hands up and offered a shrug.

  They heard a scraping sound: wood against the tiled floor, then a dull thud accompanied by Mr. Sutherby’s deep groan. Curiosity burning, Alexander couldn’t help but sneak a glance through the window.

  Sutherby was leaning back against the crude table, his breeches bunched around his ankles while his sister took him in hand.

  “Oh, God, Julia,” he panted as she dropped to her knees. “This is why I love you.”

  Julia?

  Alexander shot back against the wall, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open.

  “What is it?” Elliot whispered.

  “Take a look for yourself.”

  Elliot peaked through the window and remained there for longer than was necessary. “I could find a use for a mouth like that,” he said, moving back to the wall.

  “We’ll have to wait here until they’ve finished.”

  “Take me, Henry, take me now.”

  Henry?

  “Sorry, but I’m going to have to have another look,” Elliot said with a grin.

  “What’s happening?”

  “He’s taking her over the table. They’ll need
to slow down otherwise the only bit of bread they’ve got will be catapulted into the air.”

  “Shush, before they hear you.”

  “They won’t hear us over the grunts and groans. If only I had a sister like that.”

  Alexander sighed. “I think it’s fair to assume she’s not his sister.”

  “Agreed. I bet she’s fair game, though.”

  Alexander glared at him. “They intend to hurt Miss Bromwell. So much for your loyalty to the brotherhood.”

  “I was thinking of you. I could punish her severely until she begs me to stop.”

  “Are there no limits to your depravity?”

  “No,” Elliot sighed. “We all have our way of coping with the cards dealt us. But you know I speak in jest. You know I would never betray a brother.”

  “Good,” Alexander said, “as we can’t take the chance of being caught here, not with just hours until dawn. I will inform Miss Bromwell tomorrow night and then we will return and confront them.”

  “Very well.”

  “Make sure you get all the sustenance you need before we come back. I will need you to be focused.”

  Elliot smirked. “You’re worried I might drink from them?”

  “When I said sustenance, I wasn’t talking about blood.”

  Chapter 18

  They walked as far as Clarges Street and Alexander suddenly stopped. “Perhaps I should call on Miss Bromwell. Her house is a few minutes from here. I’ll tell her what we’ve discovered about the Sutherbys.”

  Elliot smirked. “Are you certain that’s the only reason you wish to call? Perhaps the sight of the Sutherbys amorous display has left you craving a certain form of stimulation. I know I won’t be going straight home.” He jerked his head up to the night’s inky expanse. “You’ll not have long until dawn, so you’ll need to be quick. Mind you don’t get too distracted.”

  Alexander nodded. “I’ll call on you tomorrow evening, and we’ll decide what to do about Sutherby.”

  Elliot was right. Telling Eve about Sutherby was not the only reason for his visit. After their interlude in the garden, he was desperate to see her, to know she was well, to know she had no regrets. This craving that consumed him was like a delicious form of madness. The few hours since their separation felt like days. If he hurried, he’d have time to make it home before the sun’s scalding rays singed his skin.

  Following the route through the mews, he entered her garden and sat down beneath the cherry tree before focusing his thoughts and calling out to her. If her revelation about struggling to sleep was true, he knew his silent endearments would rouse her easily.

  While he waited, he stared up at the night sky, the memory of his first night as a monster coming back to haunt him.

  The images always came as fragments, like the jumbled parts of a torn picture, brief flashes that had taken time to piece together.

  He remembered lying on the bed, the vixen’s sharp fangs piercing his skin. A coldness enveloped him. He woke to find himself lying on the forest floor. Glancing down at his attire, he realised he was wearing the same clothes he’d worn in the tavern and had almost laughed at the thought it had all been a drunken dream.

  But his dream soon turned into a nightmare.

  The clawing pangs of hunger refused to be tempered, and he’d stumbled towards the road in search of help. A man driving a cart stopped to offer assistance, berating him for wandering the woods at night when there were wolves roaming aplenty. He’d offered to take him to the nearest village, made the assumption he was just another rich lord, lost after an evening of bawdy pleasure.

  Oh, he was lost — lost to the night that had so cruelly claimed him.

  Even in the dark, Alexander could see the vein in the peasant’s neck pulse. As he sat next to him on the crude seat, he stared at it, transfixed by the rhythmical throbbing. The sound mimicked the ticking of a clock. Each beat, each passing second, drawing him closer until his teeth ached — until they protruded further from his gums.

  He drank from the man while he lay writhing and screaming, retching up the first mouthful of blood even before it had hit his stomach. Thankfully, he’d stopped before any lasting damage was done.

  And so a monster was born.

  He’d never drunk from another human, sworn he never would.

  “This is a surprise.” Eve’s soft voice penetrated the nightmare.

  Alexander stood abruptly, shook his head and focused on the vision of beauty before him. “You heard my call,” he said trying to suppress the feeling of melancholy that always accompanied painful memories. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

  Without a word, she ran into his arms. He hugged her tightly, kissed the top of her head as a way of soothing his own sorry soul.

  “I heard your voice, and it brought me here,” she said cuddling into him. She felt warm, smelled of clean linen and rosewater.

  “I wanted to check you were alright, after what happened between us.”

  It was the first time in his life he’d given a damn.

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Do not feel as though you’ve taken advantage of me. Everything that has occurred between us has happened because I wanted it to.”

  The warmth in his chest journeyed south towards his groin, and he wondered how he would cope if she walked away from him. With every ounce of his being, he wanted to tell her what she meant to him, but the fear of rejection loomed large. What future was there for her? He should tell her his secret, but he couldn’t bear to talk about it tonight, not after reliving his nightmare. Not when he felt so akin to the monster inside.

  With nothing to say, he chose to pour his heart into a kiss that was deep and tender. He kissed her as though he was dying and the touch of her lips was to be his lasting memory. He kissed her as though he had waited a thousand years for the pleasure.

  The urge to thrust inside was soon upon him, and he broke away with a muttered curse.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her expression revealing a level of anxiety he’d not seen before. He knew then that he couldn’t tell her the truth about Sutherby, not now, not yet.

  “Desire burns inside me,” he confessed. “The need to have you is overwhelming.”

  She seemed pleased, his answer causing her to reveal her own desire as she pressed her body closer and ran her hands up over his chest.

  “It’s too soon,” he said, hearing the lascivious train of her thoughts. Yet in truth, it felt like an eternity since he’d joined with her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You keep saying that,” she said with a giggle. “I know you would never hurt me.”

  “Let us sit under the tree, let me hold you in my arms. Tell me something you’ve never told another.”

  She tilted her head, her gaze curious and he had to admit he did not sound like himself. Ignoring his suggestion, she took his hand and pulled him down. Bunching her nightgown up past her thighs she straddled him, taking him by surprise. “I’m sitting,” she said with a coy smile. “I want to be with you, Alexander. Nothing else matters.”

  Everything else mattered.

  But he would leave her to enjoy one more night in blissful ignorance. When he glanced down at her, the sight of her bare thighs gripping him was his undoing. He’d have one more night, too, a night to bask in her beauty. With eager fingers, he unbuttoned his breeches and pushed home.

  She took the length of him with a pleasurable hum, moving the way he’d taught her just a few hours earlier. The ripples of pure pleasure made his soul soar, and he committed the feeling to memory.

  As he sucked in a ragged breath, he glanced up to night sky, the varying shades of grey an ominous warning. Time was slipping away. He was in danger of being lost in the moment, and he gripped her hips to quicken the pace. Sitting up to wrap his arm around her waist, he rained kissed along her collarbone, claimed her mouth in a mad frenzy as he helped her to pump him quickly.

  Their release came like a bolt from the sky, swift and sudden, their
bodies jerking violently in response. She held onto him as her shudders subsided and he imagined lying with her in bed, holding her close until the night came again.

  “I should be going,” he said, knowing he would have to run through the streets to make it home before sunrise. Yet still he struggled to free himself from her warm body.

  When they’d fixed their clothing, he offered a chaste kiss. “You should hurry before someone sees you,” he said. “I’ll wait until you’re safely inside.”

  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him again. “Will I still see you tomorrow?”

  “You mean today,” he said with a weak smile, brushing her hair from her face. “Yes. There are many things we need to discuss.”

  Chapter 19

  The thin rays of dawn managed to find a way through the gaps in the curtains, the hazy slivers of light coming to rest on Evelyn’s bed. She’d not slept since Alexander had left but only drifted in and out of whimsical daydreams. Conjuring fanciful musings of Alexander Cole was the next best thing to being held in his arms.

  She had often imagined a love so deep it would make her heart ache. The reality was a feeling of intense euphoria infused with a gut-wrenching pain brought about by even the shortest separation. Now she understood why the loss of one’s true love caused many people to drink themselves into oblivion.

  When one truly loved someone, there was no need to sit and think and examine one’s feelings. True love brought a level of acceptance — she felt the truth of it deep in her core, and nothing could ever change it. All those hours spent pondering over a match with Mr. Sutherby, dredging up every logical reason why she should accept, had all been in vain. Even if she’d tried, she could never have loved him like she loved Alexander.

  The thought of Mr. Sutherby’s clammy hands caressing her body made her shiver, and she jumped out of bed, threw back the curtains and picked up her book from the nightstand. A few hours reading, a late breakfast and by the time she’d washed, dressed and daydreamed a little more, the hours would soon pass.

  There are many things we need to discuss.

  Her stomach flipped over when she recalled Alexander’s words. The earliest she imagined him calling was two. It was only hours away, yet it felt like weeks, months.