Alex felt the words shiver through her and sighed. “I told you that you would give me reason.”
He moved to kiss her again, but Alex evaded it and stood just as Reuben came around the hedge.
Her brother looked at her and then at Justin. “It’s late, my lord.”
“Yes.” Justin stood and smiled. “I better go.” He turned to Alex. “Tomorrow we can begin making plans for the Season.”
“All right,” she said, anxious for tomorrow already.
He stared at her for a moment then bowed before saying his goodbyes and departing.
“Next time,” Reuben said, “I’ll only give you three minutes.”
Alex bit her lower lip and walked toward the house, feeling no shame whatsoever.
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10
CHAPTER
TEN
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When Justin was summoned once again to Avon’s house, he went with little fear since he was not only sober, but thought his plans for Alex very good.
He’d also read the papers that morning and was pleased with the story that had been attached. His name had been mentioned as Alexandra Smith’s escort into high society.
The article had also mentioned Alex’s work with the children at the orphanage, citing her use of the toy store as a way to collect donations for children at Best Homes so that they would have gifts on Christmas Day. She was giving back to the place she’d grown up, even though she didn’t have to. She was being painted just as saintly as the woman who’d founded the homes, and Justin was glad to be the one whose arm she held through the next portion of her life.
In fact, needing to please Avon had little to do with it. Being close to Alex was reward enough. He’d spent half the night obsessing about her mouth and the boldness with which she’d kissed him. It had been unexpected but welcomed in every way.
He could still feel her hands on him and remembered the determination that had been in her eyes before she’d placed her lips on him.
He was sure he was the luckiest man alive to have been kissed by her. He was undeserving of her favor, but he wanted it again. He wanted everything she wished to give him. His only regret was that it had been far too short. He’d not gotten to touch her skin, her hair, her face. His hands had gone to her hips to pull her closer to him and that connection had been enough to make Justin weep.
He felt as though he’d been missing something and, like the goddess she was, Alexandra had breathed life back into his body, making him whole and perhaps even cleansing him.
He was still dirty, he knew. His hands and soul were corrupt, but he didn’t feel it as strongly when she was near. That kiss must have been the cure for all his failings, the answer to his prayers.
Holding her had been better than he’d thought it would be. It was like holding sunlight and a kiss from the stars, light shining into the darkest and most foul parts of his soul.
He raced up the stairs to Avon’s front door and thought he couldn’t wait to see her later that morning, hating that calling hours were so late. He’d woken with her on his mind and couldn’t get her out.
He didn’t want her out.
He wanted her deeper, embedded in him.
He wanted…
All of her.
If the kiss meant anything, he hoped it meant she wanted the same.
He’d undoubtedly be mocked for taking on a bride who lacked both wealth and status, but he’d grown used to mockery. He didn’t need the ton’s approval. What he needed was someone as bright and warm as Alexandra.
His Alexandra. His morning song, a woman with the gift to start and still his heart. Justin had never thought himself a poet, but for Alexandra he’d be anything she wished.
He was shown down a hall he knew well and didn’t hesitate to enter.
Avon was sitting at his desk, holding a cloth to his mouth, but he moved it away as he met Justin’s eyes. “You’re cleverer than I thought you. Had I known all it took was a pretty face to get you in order, I’d have sent my courtesan around weeks ago.”
The fact that a man like Avon still kept courtesans upset Justin’s stomach, but he didn’t bother telling the duke that Alex was more than a pretty face. Instead he asked, “How do you know what she looks like?”
Avon grunted to clear his throat and frowned. “You think anything escapes me? You’d not have offered to escort her had she had the face of a donkey.”
Justin wasn’t sure on that account. Yesterday, he’d been so full of fear, but today… He simply smiled at Avon and asked, “Why have you called me?”
Avon lifted a thin hand and pointed a curved finger to the chair in front of his desk. “Tell me your plan for the girl.”
Justin hesitated, as one should when dealing with Richard de Gray. There was always more going on in his mind than he let on, and he always saw more than a man wished to show. Justin knew he’d have to be cautious with him and slowly moved forward to take a chair. Once he was settled, he didn’t waste time, knowing it best to keep his answers as precise as possible. “I plan to escort her to various parties and balls around London. Any dinner invitations I receive shall be extended to her as well.”
“And to what end will you do all of this?” Avon asked.
Justin took a moment and said, “Well, to see that she is properly married.” Though he had no intention of telling the duke that he was thinking of marrying the woman himself.
Avon watched him closely. “You think a man would want to marry a bastard?”
Justin flinched, but it was quick, and he righted his face before his next blink.
Still, the term the duke had used to describe Alexandra burned in his belly. “I think there will be men of the ton who find her enchanting.”
“Enchanting,” Avon’s eyes widened. “Are you enchanted?”
“You already know she’s pretty,” Justin replied as answer. “I plan to give her a dowry as well. If the new Lord Wint wishes to repay me when he returns to England, so be it.”
Avon nodded and said, “The party was glad to read your story in the paper.”
Justin had suspected as much, though he’d not been able to confirm it since Avon had barred him from Bellamy’s.
Avon leaned back in his chair and said, “You may go.”
Justin jumped from his seat, bowed, and walked toward the door.
He was stopped by Avon’s final words.
“See that she doesn’t marry anyone in the party. Once the novelty of Mary Elizabeth Best wears off, Ms. Smith will once again be nothing more than a viscount’s by blow.”
Justin turned to him and met Avon’s eyes.
He knew.
Justin said, “I plan to leave the party.”
“You can’t,” the duke said. “We need your vote.”
He shook his head as his heart raced. “What happens if I leave anyway?”
Avon smiled slowly and cruelly. “Then I’ll blackball you from Bellamy’s.”
He’d suffer, but not greatly when he recalled that he’d have Alex. There were other clubs he could join, though none were as good as Bellamy’s.
The duke must have seen Justin come to his conclusion, because he went on, “Countess or not, the lady will suffer as your wife. She’ll not be welcomed in my home and thus, not in many others.”
Justin thought that was bad, but then he recalled the way Alex was with her family. “She already has all the approval she could ever need.”
“From whom?” Avon asked. “Christmas Smith? I’ll ruin him along the way as well. I’ll ruin them all, every child that came from that orphanage. And I’ll lay the damage at your feet.”
Justin blinked. “Why?” His feelings for Alex made him feel brave. “What do you gain from ruining me?”
Avon lifted a brow. “I gain your compliance.” He said it as though the answer were clear.
“The ton would shame you,” Justin tried.
“The ton would thank me.” Avon eased himself to his feet and said, “If you think that Alexandra becoming known to the world doesn’t frighten the peerage, then you are sorely mistaken. They’ll only accept her because it’s their God-given duty, but make no mistake—Lord Wint was not the only one with a bastard or two. What happens if another name is revealed from that diary?”
Justin had not thought of this, but the more he did, the more he began to wonder why he’d not thought of it before. Of course, there would be an uproar. Best Homes contained, at last count, over three hundred children. He was sure that most of the young ones who came in had no noble blood to claim, but it didn’t mean that Alexandra was all that rare. Justin could think of a few men he himself had heard claim a bastard or two. Some kept their second families in apartments where they could visit. Others abandoned them. How many of the latter had ended up just like Alexandra?
Justin was sure that Lord Wint hadn’t known about her because of the sadness he always glimpsed in the man’s eyes whenever Justin would visit, as well as a conversation he’d heard as a boy about them possibly adopting. Lord and Lady Wint had been more than just friends of his father’s. They’d been friends to him as well, and he often saw the longing look in their eyes when they looked at Justin, Lady Wint especially.
They’d known what his mother was like. She hadn't hidden her distaste for her oldest child.
Gerard had once suggested it was the reason Justin had sought out a woman like Mrs. Lydia Shaw. He was looking for the comfort that had been lacking him in his youth. The conversation had ended with Justin delivering Gerard a facer.
Gerard had gotten in his own blows, and they’d not spoken to one another for the rest of the day.
It was about as long as they’d ever gone without speaking, because the two were much too close to let anything like a misspoken word come between them.
Besides Justin, Gerard kept few other friends. At one point in his life, there had been a few others, but Avon had chased them away until only Justin remained, taking whatever Avon threw at him. Avon was like sandpaper with the ability to wear a man’s soul down to the very marrow. Avon repeatedly reached Justin’s marrow, but after living with a mother like Christine, Justin could withstand him.
Would withstand him.
Avon went on, “You can’t have the girl. Have your way with her, surely, but give her to someone else. A Whig, preferably.”
Justin knew he was a Tory but couldn’t recall what a Tory believed to save his life. This was reason enough never to drink again. He’d allowed Avon to influence him during his grief. They’d had a conversation that Justin could not remember. He sometimes even feared what he may have revealed during the discussion, and now he was stuck. Avon would destroy everything if Justin didn’t obey, and Justin could not have such a thing on his conscience. Alex’s family didn’t deserve to suffer because of him.
Before Avon could read him anymore, he bowed and left, his mind racing just as fast as his feet.
Perhaps he could simply keep her unmarried until Avon died. Yet while the man grew weaker every day, Justin doubted men like Avon died without the whole world feeling the repercussion.
Justin didn’t know what to do.
He barely knew what the right thing to do was, but he knew he’d have to take things slow with Alex.
* * *
11
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
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“There’s Lady Chester’s dinner. She always appreciates guests she believes to be exotic. You would not be turned away from her door.”
Alex listened as Justin went on to list one event after another, wondering what was the matter with him.
Since the moment he’d walked into the sitting room, Alex could sense the distance between them, but she believed it was for the benefit of the men present.
Chris, Nash, and Reuben had wanted to hear Justin’s plans. When Alex had voiced that she didn’t wish to marry, Justin’s body seemed to relax and he’d sighed heavily as though in relief.
This response had put her on edge, however. She was sure that once they were alone, he’d Be different and transform back into the handsome suitor he’d been the other day.
However, when Chris and Nash left them with only Reuben to watch them from the corner of the room, Justin’s eyes didn’t even warm. The only time he seemed to smile was when she was trying to make him laugh. Even then, he seemed to be fighting against the barest of grins.
When Reuben got called away by his own visitor, Alex knew something was wrong.
She and Justin had been alone for nearly ten minutes, and he’d not so much as given her any indication that he remembered their kiss. If Alex didn’t still recall the taste of him, she’d have thought it was a dream, but no. They’d kissed, and it seemed Justin wished to forget it.
“What do you think?” His eyes and voice were plain, though both were still attractive.
She leaned over the table and whispered, “What’s the matter?”
He seemed startled by her question. Surely, he knew to what she referred. “I’m fine,” he told her. “Are you all right?”
No, she was not.
She held his eyes and slowly leaned away. She blinked a few times and then stood. “Excuse me.”
“Ms. Smith,” he called.
She ignored him and started from the room. Her throat closed as she struggled to breathe.
This was her fault. She should never have kissed him. He’d said he’d enjoyed it, but obviously he had not. Perhaps he’d simply been acting kind and preferred the kiss of a lady, which she was not and never would be.
Getting away seemed necessary now.
He caught her arm before she could pass and turned her to face him. “Ms. Smith, wait.”
How ironic that he was comfortable touching her when she least wanted it.
“Choose whatever party you wish.” She didn’t meet his eyes. Her gaze stayed fixed on a button on his shirt. “I don’t care.”
“You will if I choose something you’re uncomfortable with.”
“I’m uncomfortable with all of it.” She bit her lip and said, “The dinner. We’ll go there. One event will be enough, don’t you think?” She was only agreeing to see this done because she wanted to be finished with the ton entirely. Once the papers had their story, they would move on. She would be done with the ton and, more importantly, Justin.
“A dinner will never be enough,” Justin said, releasing his hold on her but not letting her go. “There won’t be enough members of the peerage present to meet you.”
“Then a ball,” she countered. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll go to one event and then we’ll be done with this.” She used his light grip to shake free of him and took a step back. “Good day, my lord.”
Yet she didn’t move.
And he didn’t either.
He stood there for a long time. So long that when he finally did move, she was startled.
Instead of walking out of the room, he approached her again. His hand went under her chin and lifted her face to meet his. “Fine,” he whispered, his thumb caressing her almost absentmindedly while he held her gaze. “One ball, but you’ve many lessons to learn before then. The ton, though they should know better, will still expect you to behave like a lady.”
“So you wish to change me?” she asked. “I thought I was the most intriguing woman you knew?” She regretted the words the moment they left her lips. She’d not wanted to remind him about the kiss, yet she had.
She moved again to detach herself from his touch and flee the room, but his hand slipped from her chin to the back of her neck and held her still.
His eyes fell to her lips, and Alex stiffened as his gaze darkened.
But then he closed his eyes and released a puff of air. His brows drew down and his fingers tightened on the back her neck. “I believe I also said you
were the most beautiful,” he whispered.
“That seems to have changed.” Her voice was even quieter than his.
His eyes opened and those perfectly green irises settled on her. “It hasn’t.”
That was good to know, b
ut she wouldn’t beg him to make her feel better. She’d learned a long time ago that men disappointed. There were few males in the world she trusted, and she knew better than to expand that circle.
“You’re touching me,” she pointed out.
He looked at his hands as though they were foreign to him before looking at her again. “I know, and I believe I like it.”
“You should leave.”
His expression was soft. “You’ve lessons to take. I plan to instruct you.” Why did those words seem to elicit something sensual within her?
“You know, there are people who can do that very thing on your behalf. They’re called tutors.” She battled between wanting him to let her go and wanting him to remain where he was. He complicated her mind.
He grinned, and this time he didn’t fight it. His thumb drew circles against her skin and then his finger spread through the base of her hair, massaging her slightly.
Alex closed her eyes and trembled with thrill. She locked her hands on his shoulders for support.
When he spoke, his breath brushed her lips. “My lessons will be more fun.”
She believed him. Her mind was already fogged with the things he could do to her. “I’m not a virgin,” she told him, thinking it only fair he knew before they went further. Her confession cooled her as did the stiffness she sensed in the hand that still held the back of her head.
“Is the man who…” Justin’s brows pinched as he tried to find his words. “He’s not one of the men I’ve met, is he?” His expression became vicious.
The Legend of the Earl Page 8