Slave to the Night (The Brotherhood Series, Book 2)

by Adele Clee

Grace put her hand to her chest, covering the place where Elliot's letter lay trapped between her heart and her stays. If only things were different, she thought, as she glanced at the mantel clock. They had sat down to eat at seven, but Caroline complained it was still far too early and had delayed the meal even further by eating slowly in a bid to keep the food down.

  Her mind drifted back to the moment she had opened Elliot's letter. The bold, elegant script was so characteristic of the gentleman who had stolen her heart. He had opened his heart to her, offered marriage, declared his love. Just thinking of the words made her chest swell with unbelievable joy.

  But what he had given with one hand, he had taken away with the other.

  To marry Elliot, she would be marrying a man with a terrible affliction. To spend her life with the man she loved, she would have to leave Cobham, leave Caroline. Elliot could not risk his condition being discovered. He needed routine, a safe place to settle. A place where the sustenance he needed to stave off the cravings was readily available.

  Elliot's instructions were clear.

  To accept him, she must meet his carriage tonight at nine o'clock, outside the church in Cobham. They were to elope, reside in Yorkshire for the time being.

  With every deafening tick of the clock, panic, fear, misery and a profound sadness took root. The chimes for eight thirty were akin to a death-knell. The sound indicated the end of all her hopes and dreams.

  "I feel so tired I can barely keep my eyes open," Caroline said, bringing Grace back to the present. "And look at the time," she added just to torture her all the more. "In London, the night is just beginning, yet it feels too quiet in the country to contemplate anything other than sleep."

  Grace glanced at the clock. With the lanes being so muddy, it would take at least twenty minutes to reach the church. She shook her head dismissively. She hadn't even packed a thing. Besides, what sort of a person would she be to put her own needs before that of her sister?

  No. She must think of the unborn child — a poor, innocent babe. Caroline would never manage to raise the child without her help.

  "Why not get yourself off to bed?" their mother said, looking tired and weary, too. "You've got a busy day tomorrow, and you'll need your strength. More so, seeing you've hardly eaten a morsel this evening."

  "Why? What's happening tomorrow?" Grace asked. In her world, tomorrow was the first day of a life without love. A day where Elliot would know she did not have the courage or strength to choose him.

  "Oh, I haven't had a chance to tell you," Caroline said with some enthusiasm. "Mr. Kerridge is calling. I'm to go with him to take a tour of the manor. Mother's coming, too. I didn't mention it before as I thought you had too much to do here."

  Grace frowned. "Mr. Kerridge? The squire from Whiteley?"

  "Indeed." Caroline clapped her hands together.

  "Why would you want to see the manor? You've been there numerous times over the years."

  Caroline's eyes grew wide. "I'm taking a tour with a view to accepting a proposal. Mr. Kerridge has asked me to be his wife. Can you believe it?"

  All the life was instantly sucked from her body, and she felt weak and listless. Her dry lips stuck to her gums. A solid lump pulsed in her throat, and she swallowed in an attempt to clear it. "I … I know Mr. Kerridge has always admired you, but he is thirty years your senior. And … and what of the child you carry?"

  Mother groaned. "Must we discuss matters of such a personal nature over dinner?" she said though as usual her words lacked conviction.

  "But I would live in the manor, Grace." Caroline's smile suddenly faded. "But you must not speak of the child. Mr. Kerridge knows, of course. He is desperate for a son, and I have promised to bear his children if he agrees to raise this one as his own."

  Grace struggled to absorb the information. Why the hell hadn't she mentioned it sooner? Even an hour sooner would have sufficed. "What of me, Caroline? Have you considered that?"

  "Oh, I shall still need you, Grace. You can help me pick new drapes for my bedchamber. And you must come and stay and keep me company when Mr. Kerridge is away."

  Anger flared, and she could feel her cheeks flame. "Pick new drapes? Pick new drapes! You mean my whole life has been left in tatters so I can spend my days perusing yards of material?"

  "Calm yourself. You're just hurt because I didn't tell you before. Surely you must see the logic in my decision? Surely you don't want me to spend the rest of my life stuck here in Cobham all alone?"

  Rage gave way to an uncontrollable feeling of panic and her gaze shot to the mantel clock.

  She had less than ten minutes to reach the church. She'd never make it, but she would damn well try.

  Grace stood, throwing her napkin onto the table as she inclined her head. "If you will excuse me," she said before striding towards the dining room door. "I have somewhere else I need to be."

  There was no time to pack.

  After grabbing her cape and retying the laces on her boots, she ran out of the house.

  Navigating the muddy lane was almost an impossible task, but determination prevailed. Lifting her skirt, she ran as fast as her feet would allow, trying her best not to slip and dirty the only dress she would have to her name. She ran until her breath burned in her chest. She ran until she had no choice but to stop, clutch her stomach and gasp for air.

  Please wait, Elliot.

  Despite the fact time was against her, she refused to accept all was lost. But as she came upon the church, relief turned to gut-wrenching anguish.

  The lane was empty.

  She was too late.

  It took all her effort not to sag to the floor in a heap and sob.

  In despair, she glanced to the heavens and cried, "Please, Elliot. Please don't leave without me." She hugged her stomach to ease the pain, closed her eyes and repeated the sorrowful words. "I know I don't deserve you. I know I've been such a fool. But I love you. I know you can hear me."

  "I can hear you, Grace. There's no need to shout."

  Her frantic gaze searched the darkness, falling to the figure leaning against a tree just inside the churchyard.

  "Elliot?"

  He straightened and sauntered towards her wearing an arrogant grin. "I'm pleased to see my presence still leaves you breathless."

  He'd waited.

  Her heart swelled so full she thought she might burst. The weeks of separation had been unbearable, and she ran into his open arms.

  The kiss was long, slow, a melding of mouths, of hearts and souls.

  "You waited," she whispered as she broke away.

  "I couldn't leave without you." He brushed the hair from her face. "Had you not come by sunrise I fear I would have been burned to a cinder."

  "Don't say that." She hugged him just to prove she wasn't dreaming. "Where's your carriage?"

  "A little further along the lane. It's far too muddy along here, and Gibbs was worried about getting stuck in the ditch. I felt a few drops of rain and decided to shelter under the tree."

  Tears welled in her eyes, a mixture of joy and fear for the thought of how close she'd come to losing him. "I love you," she said softly. "I want to be with you always. I don't care about anything else."

  He ran his thumbs beneath her lids, wiping away her tears as he cupped her face. "Don't cry. You should be happy to know that you're loved. I am so in love with you, it hurts. Can you forgive me for being such a stubborn fool?"

  "I would forgive you anything."

  He took her hand, threaded it through his arm and led her down the lane. "Come," he said opening the door to his carriage and helping her inside. "I need to get you out of Cobham before you change your mind."

  "I'll never change my mind. I'm afraid you're stuck with me now."

  He climbed inside. "That's a prospect I'm looking forward to tremendously," he said with a sinful grin as he closed the door and the carriage lurched forward.

  "Where are we going?" she asked settling back into the seat.

  "Sco
tland."

  "Scotland?"

  "I know it will take more than a week, but it's still the quickest and safest way of making you my wife."

  Grace chuckled. "Couldn't you have just petitioned for a special licence?"

  "What and risk your sister turning up and dragging you back to Cobham? No. Scotland it is."

  Grace removed her cape and placed it on the seat next to her. "You do know that I left in such a hurry this is the only dress I possess."

  "Then we should do our utmost to ensure it doesn't get creased." His gaze drifted languidly over her, and she could feel his desire warm her like the heat from a flame. "Luckily, we'll have to spend an awful lot of time alone in this carriage. A shortage of clothing should not cause too much of a problem."

  An image of his naked body, all hard and glorious, flashed into her mind, and her desire for him spiralled.

  Grace moistened her lips. "What on earth will we do to pass the time?"

  Elliot tapped his chest and then glanced left and right. "I thought I'd brought some playing cards."

  "I've always loved playing games," she said sliding across the carriage and falling into his lap. "It requires a certain skill, a level of endurance."

  "From what I recall, you are rather talented when it comes to amusing activities."

  Grace smiled. "I'm sure there's still a lot more you can teach me."

  Epilogue

  Moorscroft Hall, Yorkshire

  Grace mumbled some endearment as she pressed her naked body against his. He loved watching her sleep. The feel of her warm breath breezing against his skin soothed his soul.

  Elliot had kept the fire burning in the grate as they lay on the rug in the master bedchamber. Even though he knew it must be noon, in their private domain, the closed shutters and the thick drapes they'd moved from the drawing room gave the impression it was closer to midnight.

  He angled his book of sonnets in an attempt to catch the light from the flames. But he was adept at reading in the darkness. As he turned the page, Grace shifted again, pushing her tempting body closer as her palm came to rest over his heart.

  Damn.

  Desire sparked.

  He could not get enough of his wife — of her charming countenance, of her witty conversation, of her luscious body.

  Desire shot through him again when the pads of her fingers traced a circle in the dusting of hair on his chest.

  The minx.

  "I know you're not asleep," he said but then regretted his words as he had missed a perfect opportunity to tease her.

  Grace gave a pleasurable sigh as she rubbed against him in her feigned slumber.

  Elliot placed his book on the floor behind him and rolled onto his side so as to give Grace Markham his undivided attention.

  When his fingers trailed a slow, seductive line down her back, her eyelids fluttered. When those same fingers settled on a deliciously round buttock, her eyes flew open.

  "So, you are awake," he said with a grin as he let her feel the evidence of his arousal.

  "I am now," she whispered, arching her back as she stretched her limbs. She glanced around the room. "How long have I been asleep?"

  "A few hours."

  "That long? It feels like minutes."

  "Are you hungry?"

  She writhed against him. "Only for you."

  Taking that as an invitation, he rolled on top of her and settled between her soft thighs. When it came to his wife, he was permanently aroused. "You once told me that home ceased being a place for you," he said as she pulled him closer, urging him to enter her welcoming body.

  "I did," she replied, her breath a little ragged and she wrapped her legs around him and rocked to mimic the motion of his first expected thrust.

  After spending three glorious weeks together, he could read the language of her body now. Sometimes, she needed him to show his love in slow, tender strokes. Other times, such as now, it would be quick, yet wild, deep, a frantic coupling that would leave them gasping for breath.

  "You are home for me, Grace," he said as he entered her fully, unable to suppress the groan of blissful appreciation. "This is the only place I belong."

  She panted as she drew him in, as he thrust long, hard and deep. "And you are home for me."

  The loud rap on the door ruined his rhythm. While he tried to ignore it, he felt his wife's enthusiasm wane.

  "Are you going to see who it is?"

  "No," he barked. "They can damn well wait. Just imagine it's the banging of the bedpost."

  Her eyes widened — and not with pleasure. "I can't continue knowing someone's listening at the door."

  He heard an odd scraping noise and Grace strained to look over his shoulder. "There's a letter on the floor," she whispered. "One of the servants must have pushed it under the door."

  Elliot squeezed his eyes together as he focused on maintaining his erection. "Can't we just forget about it? Go back to where we were a moment ago."

  "But it must be important for someone to push it under the door." A look of panic flashed across her face. "What if it's from Caroline wanting to bring Mr. Kerridge to stay? We can't let them come here."

  Bloody hell.

  All the blood drained from his face, and from a vital part of his anatomy, too. With some reluctance, but with little option, he withdrew from his wife's warm body and sauntered over to the door.

  The first thing that struck him was someone had indeed scrawled the word urgent on the front of the missive. Elliot broke the seal, his eyes darting to the bottom of the paper, fearing the worst.

  "Thank the Lord," he said putting his hand on his chest. "It's from Alexander. I had visions of your sister arriving within the hour."

  Grace sat up, her soft full breasts and rosy pink nipples capturing his attention.

  "Well," she said with some frustration. "What does it say?"

  Elliot scanned the letter as he walked towards her. He almost crumpled to the floor in shock, and he shook his head and read it again.

  "What is it?" she asked as he came to sit on the floor at her side. "Your face is deathly pale. Has … has someone died?"

  Elliot swallowed. "God, I hope not." Shock gave way to anger. He flapped the letter wildly in the air. "What the bloody hell is he thinking?"

  "Who? What? Elliot, will you tell me what is going on?"

  "It's Leo," he said still struggling to believe what he'd read. "He … he's gone, Grace. He's gone to Bavaria."

  Saying the words out loud made it sound even more ludicrous.

  "Bavaria? Why on earth would he want to go back there?" She shook her head. "There must be some mistake."

  Damn it all.

  "I sensed something was not right with him. But I was so intent on winning your hand I pushed it aside."

  She placed her hand on his arm. "You cannot blame yourself, Elliot."

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he recalled Leo's comment about needing to find a purpose and his vehemence for the golden-haired devil.

  "He wrote to Alexander. It was delivered a week after his departure." The lump in his throat pounded. "He has gone to Bavaria to seek revenge on the woman responsible for our affliction."

  Grace looked horrified. "You think he means to punish her in some way?"

  "No. I think he means to kill her. That's why he wrote to Alexander and not to me. He knew what I would do. The bond between us is too strong for me just to sit back and let it happen."

  She scrambled into his arms, and he hugged her tight to his chest.

  Elliot cursed Leo for his stupidity. But he knew what he had to do.

  Grace knew it, too. He could feel her trembling; he could feel fear in her heart.

  "You're going after him, aren't you?" Her voice sounded strained. "You're going to go to Bavaria and try to find him?" She looked up at him, her face ashen, her eyes awash with unshed tears. "Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you won't go."

  Elliot touched his forehead to hers. "I have no choice, Grace. Hell, I don
't want to leave you. But I cannot abandon Leo to that monster."

  He felt a sudden wave of determination flow through her, watched her straighten as if her spine were a rod of iron. "Then I am coming with you."

  "The hell you are. I need to know you're safe else I shall go out of my mind with worry."

  She stroked his chest in a seductive rhythm. "Elliot, I have waited my whole life to find you. I am not saying goodbye to you now. Not after all we've been through."

  He was a lucky man indeed to have met someone so courageous, so loving, so selfless. But he could not risk losing her.

  "No, Grace. It is out of the question. Besides, Alexander is to accompany me."

  Her mouth dropped open but then snapped shut as a confident smile formed. "Evelyn will not let Alexander go without her. If Evelyn is going then so am I."

  Elliot shook his head to reinforce his position. "You're not thinking clearly. We are talking about a three-week journey, made all the more difficult by the nature of my affliction. My carriage is equipped for such a purpose, but it will be far from comfortable."

  Grace cupped his cheek and forced him to look at her. "I would sleep on a bed of nettles if it meant being with you. I just want to be with you."

  He lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers.

  "You may come with me as far as London," he said. His desire for her made him weak. "Evelyn can stay with you in Portman Square while you await our return."

  She came up on her knees and threw her leg across his lap to straddle him. "And what if Evelyn is to accompany Alexander?" She rubbed against him as she claimed his mouth in the wanton way she usually did when testing his resolve.

  He had never been a man to fall prey to the cunning wiles of women. But he had never been a man madly in love.

  "All right," he said, breaking contact as desire raged through his veins. He imagined being thrown in the stocks while every honourable gentleman in England threw rotten vegetables at him for putting up such a poor fight. "But only on the proviso, Evelyn does accompany Alexander."

  "Agreed." She gave a curt nod and a satisfied grin. "We should pack lightly. Thankfully, I'm used to travelling with minimal clothing."