Alex’s stomach pitched, half disgust and half fear. “No. My brothers and I… We’re a family. We’d never think to do such a thing.”
“They are not blood.” His fingers began to move in her hair again. “Only a blind man would be persuaded to leave you alone. Knowing you only makes the thought of touching you that much more pleasant.”
She was touched and smiled. “There are some bonds that are forged by more than blood.” Like witnessing someone accidentally wet herself and then having her young protectors try and shuffle her into the house before anyone else noticed. Alex had had accidents until she was seven, until Chris, Reuben, and Nash had truly taken her in.
And no matter what Justin believed, no one thought to be with a girl who once peed in her chemises repeatedly. Even nearly twenty years later, it still brought her shame. “Surely, you share a deep bond like that with someone.”
“Gerard,” he said without hesitation. “But he’s a man. You’re a woman.”
“And there’s no female in the world that you call friend?” She almost wanted him to say no, wanting to be the only woman in his life.
He paused for a moment then slowly shook his head. “Once, when I was young, but… I see your point.” He smiled. “But I’ve decided that I can’t simply be your friend. It’ll never be enough.”
Her heart nearly exploded from the pleasure of his mouth on hers. She pressed herself closer to him but then broke the kiss with a gasp. “The door is open.”
Justin stalked to the door. It closed a moment later and he returned. He barely stopped before he grabbed her head between his hands and brought his mouth back down to hers.
Her body pulsed with excitement as he locked her to his body and slowly backed her against the wall.
His mouth was hot and his tongue even more so. She moaned as he deepened the kiss and tightened his hands on her waist.
Yes. This was where she belonged, and this was where he belonged. With her. Touching her. She kissed him with her own urgency, with the need to make him know that she was officially claimed.
Her arms went around his neck. She tilted her head back to get more of him, as if with his own driving need he needed to claim her as well.
She was startled at the sound of a voice clearing and turned to see Rose staring at them both with wide eyes.
“Reuben is on his way.”
Her brother’s timing was horrible.
* * *
12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
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Justin backed away from Alex, but it felt as though he’d left a part of himself with her when he did.
He’d been a fool to think he could keep his distance. Nothing about Alex would allow it. She’d called him a liar with her every jest and smile. He couldn’t keep away. He had to have her. He simply didn’t know how to go about getting her.
He’d never hated being a lord as much as he did after his father died. He’d been under the influence of too many drinks when he’d allowed Avon to talk him into paying the fee for a seat on Parliament that had opened. He’d thought at the time that politics were a good way to get his mind off his father’s death. He’d had no clue he’d sold himself to Hades himself.
He wasn’t even sure he liked the Tory party.
His father hadn’t been one for politics. He enjoyed his freedom during the Season, instead choosing to box at his gym or host parties for his friends. He’d been well-liked, unlike Avon, who used fear to control everyone.
Including Justin, but no more.
He would have Alexandra because the other option felt like ripping out his own heart. He’d seen the confusion in her gaze as they'd spoken at the table, her obvious misunderstanding at his business-minded attitude. He’d tried to endure, but the threat of her leaving had put an end to that.
Reuben wasted no time when he spoke. “Alicia has been attacked.”
Rose and Alex pulled in a breath as Justin’s body stiffened. He remembered Alex’s family speaking about Ms. Alicia Best the previous night and knew Alicia was Mary Elizabeth Best’s grand-niece.
“What happened?” Alex asked.
Rose grabbed onto Alex’s arm as she stared at Reuben.
“I’m not sure, but I know she’s safe now. Still, I must go.” Reuben turned to Justin. “We’ll have to cut your visit short.”
“We’ll come.” Alex placed a hand on top of Rose’s.
“I’m coming as well,” Justin said. “If the public gets wind of this, they’re likely to listen to an earl when he tells them to go away.”
Reuben looked ready to argue but nodded and started for the door. “Let’s go.”
Alexandra and Rose followed quickly at Reuben’s heels. Justin followed them out, grabbing his hat before stepping outside and into the waiting hack.
He sat by Alexandra while Rose clung to Reuben, tears in her blue eyes.
Alex’s own features were tight, and Justin could tell her mind was racing.
The ride to the orphanage wasn’t long, but the silence made it seem so.
They leapt from the carriage and Justin only had a moment to take in the exterior of the brick orphanage before he was directed around back and into another part of the building that seemed to hold a small house.
Reuben led the way inside, and Justin’s eyes adjusted to the dim lights of the entryway before he was led to a small sitting room.
The air was clean-scented with lemon. The walls had been wallpapered a pale blue.
There wasn’t much to see in the room. It was small with furniture that didn’t quite match, but everything looked to have been well cared for.
Two couches and two wooden chairs made up the seating in the room.
On the couch sat a young woman who was weeping. It took Alex and Rose rushing across the room and saying the woman’s name for Justin to realize that she was Ms. Alicia. There was a second, older woman seated nearby.
Chris and Nash stood in the corner having a quiet conversation that Reuben walked over to join.
The older woman’s head lifted to look at him. “You must be Lord Chantenny.”
Alicia looked up and her eyes widened. “Oh.” She began wiping her at her cheeks. “I didn’t know to expect visitors. I’ll have the maid bring tea.”
Justin moved forward, hunched down to meet her gaze, and handed her his handkerchief. “Don’t lift a finger on my behalf. I’m not here to be served, but to see if I can be of service. What happened?”
Chris answered for him. “A man on the street pulled a knife on her while she was in the market.” The contained rage slipped through his every word. “It was only by luck that one of the owners was willing to step out and protect her.”
“They know who I am,” Alicia told him, handing him back his handkerchief with a small smile.
Justin pressed it firmly into her hand and held her eyes. “You mean they know the heart of gold you possess and are willing to sacrifice their own.”
She smiled fully then.
“Did the man say anything to you?” Rueben asked, drawing her attention.
“He asked me my name,” Alicia said. “Then nothing more.” She shook her head as worry came back to her mind. “I don’t understand. No one has ever attacked me before. He didn’t ask for money. It was my life he wanted.”
“Who would want to kill an orphanage owner?” Nash asked.
Justin’s heart began to beat furiously. “The ton,” he said.
Chris frowned. “What do you mean?”
Justin recalled what Avon had told him and said, “Alexandra’s existence puts the ton in a bind. They will have to accept her or be made hypocrites in the eyes of the public and the church, yet at the same time, they fear being next.”
“What do you mean?” Reuben moved toward him. “What do they fear?”
“More children like Alexandra coming forward,” Justin went on. “The t
on fears their secrets spilling out before the world.”
“Yes,” Chris whispered in understanding. His eyes turned to Alicia. “I’ve been meaning to ask… Are you the one who released Ms. Best’s journal entry?”
Alicia blinked. Slowly, her eyes widened. “No. Of course not. I didn’t know my great-aunt even had a journal.”
The old woman in the room grunted. “My sister’s journal would have come quite in handy had I known of its existence years ago.” The comment made Justin realize that she was Mary Francis.
“So you’re not behind the papers either?” Nash asked, if only to clarify.
“No!” Mary Francis placed a hand on her chest. “And don’t ask me questions over and over again. Dear me, no one has done such a thing since those Bell doctors in Scotland.”
Justin knew about the Bells of Scotland. They’d been a surgeon family who'd begun their practice in the 1740s.
That was nearly seventy years ago. He wondered how old Mary Francis was.
Chris surprised him when he rolled his eyes. “One of you had to have published that journal entry. You’re the only ones who could have.”
Justin looked at Alex to find her leaning away and examining the two Best women in the room. She had her suspicions as well.
Alicia frowned. “That’s not true. There are servants, not to mention that my great-aunt knew more than a few solicitors while alive. She could have done this.”
“Done this?” Nash asked in surprise. “You think your aunt planned this from the grave?”
Alicia stared at him. “It does beg the question of how she knew so much about Alicia’s percentage. How did she manage to connect her to the Viscount of Wint?”
The room fell silent, as the question was a good one.
Mary Francis pulled in a breath and said, “There was a young man who used to come around each time a baby was brought to the orphanage. He’d go away for a few days and then return. I often saw my sister whispering to him before giving him a meal and sending him on his way. At the time, I simply thought that she felt sorry for him, but perhaps he was working for her.” She looked at the men. “Do you suppose?”
Reuben crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “She had to have been working with someone to know who Alex’s mother and father were.”
“Maybe the boy is creating the journal entries,” Nash said. “He’d be a man now.”
“No.” Alicia shook her head. “I know Mary Elizabeth’s hand, and you could hear her voice in every word. That page from her diary was all her own.”
The room nodded in agreement.
“Doesn’t mean the boy doesn’t have the journal,” Chris said. “Children move in and out of Best Homes all the time. One of them could have grabbed it for him.”
“Do you suppose?” Nash asked.
Reuben grunted. “And we were worried about the homes overflowing with children after the commemoration. Now the ton will know better than to leave the children here.”
Justin agreed. “But surely there are not that many children like Alexandra.” He looked at her.
Alex wet her lips. “Ms. Best used to call us all lords and ladies. Perhaps…”
“No,” Chris cut in. “You’re a rarity,” he told Alex. “The ton has nothing to fear, and we need to find a way to let them know this so that Alicia is not attacked again.”
Reuben asked Justin, “You say the ton fears this. Do you have anybody in mind for this attack? Someone with the means and who would likely hire an assassin?”
Lord Avon came to mind, but Justin shook his head. “I know of no one who would send a man to kill Ms. Alicia in the market, of all places. They’d have waited for her to be asleep and hired someone to break into her home and end her while she rested. There would be no witnesses that way and the assassin would be gone before anyone was the wiser.”
He looked at Alicia and found that she'd paled. Her body was frozen with fear.
Justin closed his eyes and shook his head. “Forgive me. I should have thought better of my words.”
“Perhaps we should find Alex’s mother,” Nash said. “She might have answers.”
Alex seemed to visibly pull within herself, and that was when Justin moved. He went to her side of the couch and moved into the space that was left, wrapping an arm around her. “We don’t have to if you don’t wish it.”
She leaned into him slightly and looked up. “If it would protect Alicia, then I suppose we should.”
Chris came over. “You don’t have to be involved. You don’t even have to meet her.”
Alex covered her face, and Justin pulled her even closer.
He couldn’t begin to imagine what she was feeling but knew she was hurting and that there was little he could about it. She’d just discovered who her father was, and now they were suggesting they find the woman who’d actually given her away.
He looked at Chris. “We should discuss this elsewhere.”
Chris’ eyes moved from Alex to him before he lifted a brow. “We?”
Justin tightened his hold on Alexandra’s shoulder as a servant came into the room.
“Two men have been standing outside the orphanage door for some time now, and two others have come. I believe them to be newspaper writers.”
Reuben turned to Justin. “It’s time for you to get to work, my lord.”
Justin tentatively let go of Alex, her fingers leaving him just as slowly, before he stood. “What shall I say?”
“The truth,” Chris said. “No one connected to Best Homes published that book.”
Justin took a moment and said, “Perhaps I can suggest that a peer has done it. That should shake the people up a bit, sending them off to bother someone else. After all, to collect such information about Alex would have taken resources… or at least, it’s easy to believe it would.”
Nash and Reuben smiled slowly.
Chris nodded. “Get it done.”
Justin left the room.
* * *
13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
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“He’ll do rather nicely… I suppose,” Mary Francis said once Justin left the room. Her head tilted, and her eyes fixed in the direction that Justin had fled.
Alex was unsure where the woman was going but decided to dispel any notion that Justin was more than simply a friend.
She’d been foolish enough to think them more hours ago, only to be proven wrong, and though Justin’s kisses made her yearn for the next one, she had no illusions that he wouldn’t turn cold once more.
He was a lord, and she’d learned long ago that aristocrats always did as they pleased.
Mary Francis went on before Alex could stop her. “I like him much better than Michael.”
Alex pulled in a breath and released it, settling both heart and stomach at the same time. Michael was the very last man she wanted to speak of. “Lord Chantenny and I are simply friends.”
“Even I can see that isn’t true,” Nash said as he took to one of the chairs on the other side of the room.
She didn’t know what he’d seen, but she didn’t wish to explore it either.
Alex set her face as a blank mask, determined to end this conversation. Then she turned to Alicia. “How are you feeling?”
Alicia was already staring at her. “I’m fine for the moment, and Mary Francis is right. He’s a much better man than Michael.”
Francis grunted and stomped her cane. “Michael would have expected tea, the selfish fool. A simpleton in every way.”
Alex felt a headache upon her and reached toward her temple to give it a light massage, trying to find a way to both satisfy the only family she’d ever known and lead them toward another conversation.
She thought about what Chantenny had said about finding her mother. That topic seemed to have an even worse reaction on her body. She didn’t want to find her mother. She’d s
topped wanting that years ago.
She knew the story about how she’d come to Best Homes. Everyone said it was her mother who had brought her, asking Mary Elizabeth to take care of her. The only thing the woman had given Mary Elizabeth was her name and the day she’d been born, nothing more.
She’d never returned.
At first, Alex had dreamed she would. She’d prayed earnestly as a child for her mother to return, but she never came.
Talking about Chantenny was a much better topic.
Alex lifted her head and stared at Mary Francis. “You raised Michael.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like every child who comes through Best Homes,” the woman said without shame. “He was a bother from the beginning, cried for everything. He likely still cries when he doesn’t get his way and is willing to get others into trouble to get away with his own crimes. I’m glad I don’t see him anymore.”
Alicia put a hand on her great-aunt, her expression surprised. “Aunt Francis, don’t say such a thing.”
Francis made a clicking sound with her teeth. “I don’t care too much for adults either, but there was a reason I didn’t run Elizabeth’s projects until after her death. I never liked children. Everyone knew so. It’s the same reason I never bothered to marry and gave the business to you the moment you were of age.”
Alex knew that if she were ever looking to hear the truth, she could go to Mrs. Mary Francis Best. The woman did not mince her words. She didn’t like children. She’d only started to like Alex as Alex grew older, and Alex could only recall the woman being sweet on Sundays, since Sundays were bath days and all the children would be clean by noon. Mary Francis would braid Alex’s hair in a crowned style while letting a few hairs hang by her ears. To this day, Alex had never been able to duplicate it.
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