“Alex?” Thomas shifted a bewildered gaze across the scene. “Is that you?”
“Thomas.” Alex nodded. “Good to see you again.”
Thomas’s gaze fell to Charley. “Char?” A murderous gaze flicked back to Alex. “What the hell did you do to my sister, Coverstone?” Fists clenched her brother took a menacing step down the stairs.
“Enough, Thomas, now isn’t the time for you to be a hot-head,” Charley interrupted. No doubt Alex would knock him into the ground with a single flick of the wrist. “Alex did not endanger my life, he saved it.” She threw her husband an apprehensive glance, he and Thomas had clashed miserably over the years, Charley had never been apprised of the exact details, but gathered a falling out of some sort had occurred at Eton. Alex, being the older and bigger of the two, usually came out on top of the mischief, but Thomas was never above leveling the score. “We’ll explain everything once Papa is taken care of and you’ve found some clothes.”
Thomas grumbled childishly in response, turned on a heel, and stalked into the house.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, praying he and Alex would bury their ridiculous hatchet once and for all. “Thomas’s temper has not improved over the years, and you can see for yourself Papa has gotten much worse.”
Alex shrugged and flashed a small, crooked smile as though to say, nothing to be sorry for we’re in this together.
Grateful Charley smiled in return, and a kernel of hope budded in her womb. Alex’s smile held a ring of his old mischief—their friendship. But… she stilled the trail of her thoughts… it would take much more than a few boyish smiles to show her he’d truly changed for the better.
He slipped an arm about her waist, giving her a gentle, reassuring squeeze before escorting her into Grayson Hall behind the mismatched crowd. A broad hand slid up her back, settling on her shoulder. Her heart rose to her throat, and she quickly moved away, crossing her arms over her chest. She cast a quick glance in his direction but if he was perturbed by her rebuff he showed no outward signs. “So this isn’t really loaded?” He lifted the shotgun still clutched in his left hand.
“Oh, of course.” She shook her head though it did little to rattle her weighty thoughts. “Only gunpowder and wadding,” she supplied. “We took his musket balls and scatter shot away a long time ago. His guns make a lot of noise, but are mostly harmless.”
Alex chuckled. “Probably wise.”
“Definitely wise.”
Together they passed beneath the Grayson stone archway, and even in darkness the manor was striking in its ancient beauty. Rich wood trimmed high cathedral windows while gray stone and white washed walls stood in striking contrast to the darker marble floor. Memories of a bygone day tugged Charley’s heartstrings—running through the entrance with her brother… playing with cousins and the few close family friends they’d had. Her entire childhood had been spent in this house. She loved it. Missed every single day of those happier times.
Thomas stood just inside the doorway, arms folded over his naked chest. “Alex, we had no idea you were coming home. Did you send word ahead?”
“No, it was all rather unexpected I’m afraid.”
“I see.” Thomas set his jaw on edge, and may have said more, but Evelyn raised a commanding hand.
“There will be time for hellos later. Right now, Thomas, Charley, help me get your father upstairs to bed. We’ll give him a bit of laudanum and then you and Alex can explain what brought you to my door at this wee hour of the morning.” Evelyn flicked a gaze toward the servant’s entrance at the back of the hall. “Coffee, George. I have a sneaking suspicion we’re going to need it.”
“Of course, milady.” The ancient Grayson butler drifted from his place in the shadows.
Charley shivered. The man was ghostlike and eerie as ever. Some things never changed. Shaking off the unnatural sensation George never failed to instill within her, she stepped away from Alex and fell into step beside her mother. Side by side they followed Thomas and a grumbling Edmond up the stairs. “I’m so sorry to have set Papa off, Mama. I know it’s best if word is sent ahead so he can be prepared for visitors.”
“It’s quite alright, dear.” She slipped an arm through her daughter’s drawing her close. “Unavoidable circumstances are just that. Unavoidable.”
Charley smiled, her mother’s gentle mannerisms never failed to put her at ease.
Evelyn flicked curious green eyes across Charley’s dishabille. “You’re well?”
“I know I look a fright, but truly, mama, I am fine.”
“Good. Once your father is settled, I’m going to have a cup of coffee and you can tell me all about it.” Her mother suddenly looked markedly tired and drawn. The lines around her mouth and eyes deepened, belying her age.
Compassion and a small measure of guilt struck Charley as her gaze fell to her father, lost before his time. Her mother lived a quiet life in the country as dictated by the earl’s profound delusions. Edmond Trent had been well past forty when he’d taken a bride and now Evelyn Trent remained faithfully at his side despite his madness. Not once had Charley heard her complain though late at night she’d heard her mother crying. Charley hugged the heavy wool jacket tighter, chancing a glance back down the stairs at Alex—tall, dark, gloriously powerful and completely in charge of his faculties. Perhaps her lot in life was not so bad after all.
* * *
The soft golden glow of Lady Grayson’s lamp cast a homey bubble around the Grayson family—dogs and all. Ensconced in darkness Alex acutely felt an intruder looking in. Wistfully he gazed upon the swish of Charlotte’s hips beneath his heavy coat, unable to banish the vision of his wife running through the snow with outstretched arms toward Sidney. The memory threatened to rip a pint sized hole through his chest. His moment to be her hero, smooth a few lumps from their relationship was lost. Damn it all, the moment she’d stepped into Sidney’s embrace…
Alex clenched and unclenched a fist, waiting with feigned patience for the telltale click of the door closing upstairs. His temper, like a long imprisoned demon, battered for release. One. Two. Three. Christ he might break a tooth if he had to count clear to ten. Four.
Clunk.
Finally!
The latch struck and he whirled on his cousin. “What the hell was that, Sidney?”
Sid, ambling aimlessly about the entryway, admiring little knick-knacks and pictures, started at Alex’s explosive outburst. “The hell was what?”
“Back in the woods, Charlotte ran straight into your arms. And just now she stood between you and a goddamned gun.” Never mind that it hadn’t been loaded. Red-hot fury tinged Alex’s vision as he stalked forward, predatory. “Tell me here and now, have you slept with my wife?”
Sid quirked a lazy brow and rocked back on his heels, thoroughly unperturbed by Alex’s macho display. “Slept with?” The words rolled with contemplative leisure off his tongue. “I must confess, Alex, I’ve never understood the meaning of that term. After all there is not any sleeping going on in the bedroom, and really, if one really gets technical, a bedroom is hardly necessary for the activity you’re referring to.”
Alex ground his teeth and, by damn, he may have chipped one after all. Hurt like hell which only served to fuel his fury. Good. “So help me, Sid, if I find out you seduced her, touched her, so much as thought about her inappropriately I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Sidney drew himself to his full towering height, two inches above Alex, eyes flashing with challenge. “Be the first jealous husband to call me out?” He threw his head back and barked with cynical laughter.
“I won’t even bother calling you out. I’ll just beat the living hell out of you here and now.”
“Is that so?” Sid crossed his arms across his chest. “Why? Last I checked you couldn’t stand the sight of your wife. Hell, Alex, I’d be far more concerned if I crossed your horse than your marchioness. We both know which of the two you hold in higher regard.”
“That is not true,”
Alex growled.
“Isn’t it?” Sid raised a dubious brow, eyes flashing beneath. “For years you’ve been too busy lamenting the loss of Veronica Childers to realize what you have in Charley. Charley is amazing in all the ways Veronica is a shallow ton bitch.” Sidney raked a hand through his hair, clenching it in a fist by his side.
“Leave Veronica out of this.”
“Will you leave Veronica out of it? She’s recently widowed you know.”
“I don’t want her.”
“Ha! Every man wants her. I give it a week before you’re banging on her door, panting for favors. Mores the pity to you for it. Charley is ten times the woman Veronica could ever aspire to be.” Sid shook his head in disgust. “You are the luckiest bastard I’ve ever met and you’re too thick headed to see it. What did you expect? To come home after all these years and have the same starry eyed little Charley waiting for you?”
Alex narrowed his eyes refusing to admit the truth in Sid’s words even to himself.
“Look around you, Alex, Charley is a grown woman now. She’s moved on from that little girl’s fantasy. For years you brushed her aside—”
“Answer my question. Did you sleep with my wife?”
“Afraid you’ll get saddled with my brat?” Sid sneered.
Sizzling fury blistered through Alex. “Answer me.” He grasped Sidney’s collar and slammed the other man against the wall.
Sid grunted, glare dark with malice. “Famous temper rearing it’s ugly head again? I wonder, is this how you’ll act when Whitherspo—”
“Everything all right?”
Sidney snapped to attention, all distress melting from his features. “Charley,” he said pleasantly. “How is your father?”
Alex stepped away from Sid, and spun.
Charley stood at the top of the staircase, expression unreadable, gaze shifting between Alex and Sid.
Had she overheard their argument?
It was on the tip of his tongue to demand answers, but the ongoing state of her dishabille gave him pause. Her silk gown lay in tatters beneath his oversize jacket and her burnished tresses hung in unruly clumps around her face and shoulders. Tonight she may have demonstrated a strength and fire most women—or men—of her station would never possess, but regardless of her calm exterior she’d been through a horrid ordeal. Now was not the time to sling adulterous accusations. You’re the luckiest bastard alive… Swirled through his conscious mingling with the supreme jealousy that Sid may in fact be the man she loved. So much for disengaging his emotions. Alex forced himself to unclench his fists and drew a deep breath, attempting to calm down.
“Mother is seeing to him now.” With one hand lightly rested on the wooden balustrade she slid down the stairs, all elegance and grace despite her odd attire. “I must apologize for his behavior tonight.”
“Think nothing of it,” Sid replied solicitously, striding forward to offer Charley his arm, before Alex could find the words on his tongue.
The ease with which his wife gazed upon the known rakehell rankled Alex to no end and it took every ounce of willpower not to yank her bodily away from Sid and stake his claim in the most primitive male fashion.
“Why don’t we go to the parlor and wait.”
Alex trailed behind Charley and Sid who fell comfortably into step side by side… arm in arm. Alex’s mood sank from black to glower. Murky darkness pervaded every corner of the parlor adding to the effect.
Charlotte moved about the room, lighting the decorative lamps expertly arranged throughout the room while Sidney chattered on about this and that. Alex paid him little mind, and was more than pleasantly surprised when Charlotte ignored Sid, and turned to him. Their gazes locked, a question lurking just beneath the surface of her eyes.
She must have heard their argument by the stairs. Alex wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
“Would you light a fire, Sidney?” Charlotte’s eyes never left Alex’s.
“Certainly.”
With Sid otherwise occupied, Alex strode forward, stopping directly in front of his wife. Soft light illuminated the shimmering green of her eyes, sending an array of amber sparkles floating through the endless depths. Alex could be lost if he wasn’t careful—though a large part of him did not want to be careful. “You’ve a nasty bump on the head,” he murmured, brushing a thumb across the smooth flesh beneath the gash hidden in her hairline.
“My head hit something sharp in the crash. The broken window I think.” Reflexively she reached up to touch the injured scalp. Their fingers collided and a heated blush flooded her cheeks. Charlotte snatched the hand away, but Alex captured her fingers, curling the slender digits within his own. Her eyes widened and Alex moved to draw her close, but she pulled away, quickly backing to a single chair beside the wall. For the barest instant pure vulnerability flickered in her eyes, worse even than with her captors in the woods. She blinked, and that quickly, the guard flashed back over her eyes.
Alex sighed, Charley obviously hadn’t reached the same peace about the past as he had. More slowly he followed, seating himself in the adjacent chair. After the black moment in London when he’d truly believed he’d lost her without having the chance to apologize for all that had gone so horribly wrong or even begin to make amends he simply needed to be near her. What a fool he’d been to shut those he loved from his life these last years. “Are you really all right after today, Charley?”
A gusty breath swept past her lips—full, very tempting lips—and he was reminded of that moment in the woods when he’d been possessed with the urge to kiss her.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t home to protect you.”
Charley shrugged, weary face cast downward. “But you came for me.” She tipped her head back, hesitantly meeting his gaze. Disbelief shown in those huge eyes and his chest tightened with the sudden, awful realization that she had no faith in him. “When I saw you running in those woods I thought you were a mirage,” she continued. I knew I was going to die, that those men would—”
“You can’t think I would have left you to those animals.” Alex scoffed, raking an incredulous hand through his hair. What a muck. His own wife sooner believed he’d leave an innocent woman to rot than pay a ransom or come for her.
“I—”
“Speak no more of it.” He raised a silencing hand, searching for something suitable to say… something to instill confidence. Show her that he was not a total scoundrel. Intently he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and splaying his palms before him. “You have my solemn vow they will pay for their ill treatment of you.”
Charley cocked her head, spearing him with the full devastating effect of those crystal clear pools. He gulped. Disconcerting those eyes… far too green… “Thank you,” she murmured, offering up a tentative smile. Her demeanor softened and a spark of kinship, mayhap even promise, warmed her face.
Ever uncomfortable with praise or gratitude of any kind, Alex executed a curt nod and sat back in his chair.
“I’m glad you’re home, Alex. However uncomfortable your homecoming last night was, I do worry terribly while you’re away. I always have. We receive so little word I forever fear the army dispatches that come to the house bear bad news.”
Unsure how to respond because the worry she spoke of was a direct result of his own coldness he simply kissed her forehead. Charley shivered beneath the touch and Alex grew more than a little unnerved himself. If only he didn’t feel so damn guilty about his stubborn, misguided silence.
She laid her head against the back of the chair, shuddering once more. He knew the most intense desire to take her in his arms, comfort her and wash the pain from her eyes. “I’ll be fine, but none of this has sunk in yet. I still can’t fathom anyone being paid to kill me.”
“Paid to kill who?” Thomas Trent, Viscount Huntfield, strode into the room, considerably more put together in a white shirt and tan trousers than his earlier, shirtless, appearance. “Charley?” Confusion lined every facet of his youthful face as h
e glanced between his sister and Alex.
“Yes,” Alex supplied, releasing his wife, and facing the younger man. “Last night Charlotte was abducted and I received a message demanding a 5000 pound ransom for her safe return.”
Disbelief washed Thomas’s slack jawed face. “Fi-fi-five thousand pounds?” he spluttered, clutching his chest. “Dear God.”
“It wasn’t necessary to pay,” Alex assured him. “Sidney and I rode out and had no trouble tracking the men responsible. Rest assured, no harm came to your sister.”
“Except that they weren’t hired to kidnap me,” Charley interceded. “They were hired to kill me.”
“What?” Evelyn—with two large dogs on either side—swept into the room next, wide eyed and white as a sheet after Charley’s outburst. “Heaven above, did I say I wanted coffee?” The countess turned back to the door. “George, I’ll need a decanter of brandy as well.”
“As will I,” Alex muttered.
“Mother!” Charley and Thomas cried in tandem.
“You cannot drink brandy at half five in the morning,” Charley protested.
Evelyn dismissed the twins with a flick of the wrist. “At my age and in the country I can drink brandy whenever I please. It’s a benefit to old age you see.”
As if old could ever describe Lady Grayson.
“Now, tell me, who would want to hurt Charley?”
“Oh, this has nothing to do with Charley.” Sid interjected from beside the now roaring fire. “All of this affair is to spite Alex. I’d stake my life on it.”
Evelyn speared Alex with piercing green eyes much like Charley’s. “What did you do?”
“Nothing.” He held up both hands, feeling very much the recalcitrant child, and pegged Sid with a lethal glare. “I only got home yesterday.”
“Then who the hell would want my sister dead to spite you?” Thomas stalked forward a fist clenched at his side.
“Look,” Alex began slowly.
“Don’t sugarcoat this, Alex. You know damn well what is going on,” Sid needled. “Tell them about Witherspoon. Charley nearly died tonight and she deserves to know the truth.”
Light to Valhalla Page 6