“What? You know of it? But how? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“I’ve suspected it to be the case for months—you know I never really believed that my father’s death was an accident. The only other people who agreed with me were your father and Lord Langford, but none of us could prove anything, or so I thought. Once Blackmoor House was robbed and nothing of importance taken, I knew it must have been related to my father. Your father, Lord Langford, and I have been trying to root out the thief ever since.”

“But you could be killed!”

He shook his head firmly. “While that is certainly a possibility, between my very frequent, very public appearances and the skilled Bow Street Runners who are patrolling the house, I don’t think that’s going to come to pass.”

“Need I remind you that Baron Montgrave was skulking around the house just moments ago? Where was Bow Street then?”

“I thought you couldn’t be sure it was Montgrave?” he asked, evading her question.

“I can’t be. But I feel that it’s better we are safe than sorry in this particular situation. I shan’t be inviting the baron to tea any time soon.”

“Alex. First, if indeed it was the baron, I assure you I could have easily held my own.” He ignored her rolling eyes. “Second, there is no we in this situation. Part of the reason you were not apprised of this situation is because we all preferred you not know, as we understand you and Ella and Vivi more than you think. We knew that once you got wind of this, you would find it difficult to stay out of it. That said, I want you to remain out of it. Thoroughly out of it. This is no game.”

“I know this is no game, Gavin. I’m not a child. And I cannot simply stay out of it. It’s too late for that.”

“No, it’s not. I want you to pretend you didn’t hear what you heard this evening. If ever there was a time for you to be a delicate flower, now is it. Is that understood?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “Good. As it is, I should turn you over my knee for traipsing about in the darkness, but I shall refrain, because I cannot deny the fact that I’m rather happy you’re here.”

She opened her mouth to argue and he stopped her with a raised hand. “You see, I have rather a lot to say. I’m sorry that I hurt you earlier. I never meant for you to believe that I think kissing you was a mistake. In fact, if you asked me what I’ve wanted more than anything in the last week, what I want more than anything right now, I would answer, without question, not that I want to find the burglar who ransacked my home—not that I want to know the truth about my father’s death—but that I want you.”

She felt his gaze hot on her face as he continued, “I didn’t use the term ‘mistake’ because of you. Never because of you. I used it because your brothers are the closest things I have to brothers, your father”—he paused, then pressed on—“the closest thing I have to a father now. They all trust me with you. They believe that you are safe with me. My behavior toward you is a betrayal of that trust. And a betrayal of your trust as well.”

Distracted by his impassioned words, she asked, “Why a betrayal of my trust? I do trust you. Still. I trust you to be the same Gavin you’ve always been.”

“That’s the problem. The feelings that I have for you now are nothing like the ones I’ve always had. I’m not the same Gavin. I used to think of you as my friend. Now I think of you as something…more.”

She wanted desperately to ask him to elaborate on his statement, but first, she had to know whether it was her specifically or rather the idea of her which was driving him to make such a confession. She blurted, “Are you planning to offer for Penelope Grayson’s hand?”

The words were out of her mouth before she knew what she was saying. She dipped her chin, a blush spreading across her cheeks. She had no idea why she had asked such an inappropriate question. More than that, she had a sudden intense dread of his answer.

If she had been looking at his face, she would have seen the look of shock that passed over it and known his answer before he spoke it. “No. Alex. No, I have never intended to propose to Penelope. She’s very beautiful, but…” He paused. “She’s not you.”

Her eyes flew to meet his as she realized just how monumental this moment—that statement—was.

“I confess, earlier in the season, I had plans to court Penelope. She seemed the ideal…candidate.”

“Charming sentiment,” Alex said, adding, “It’s incredible that men think of finding a wife in the same vein as electing a politician.”

Ignoring her pontification, he continued, “However…that’s all changed now. I can’t imagine being with Penelope. Because I seem only to be able to imagine being with you.”

Attempting to ignore the lurch in her stomach that occurred in response to those words, she asked, “What does that mean?”

“It means that you’ve become the standard to which I hold all the other women in my life. Are they as humorous as you, as easy to speak with, as charming, as witty, as…” He stopped.

“Go on,” she prodded.

He smiled at her shameless ploy for more compliments. “As wonderful as you. As clever. As beautiful.”

She blushed shyly. “I’m not beautiful.”

“Yes, love, you are.” He stepped closer to her, pulling her close and tracing the curve of her cheek. “So beautiful that I rather wonder how I could have missed it before this season.”

And, with that, he kissed her. She lost all her strength as his lips played over hers, but he held her in his strong arms without any difficulty. She lifted her hands to run them through his soft hair before wrapping her arms around his neck and giving in to the sheer pleasure of the moment.

After several minutes, he lifted his head and their eyes met. Neither of them could keep the broad smiles from their faces. Alex spoke, unable to keep her feelings quiet after his bold confession. “Gavin…I’ve never felt anything like this. You’ll never be my friend again, never my surrogate brother. If I am the standard to which you hold the women in your life…then you are more than that for the men in mine. How will I ever find someone to compare to you? You, with your bold smiles and your brilliant mind and your handsome face…” She touched his cheek, running her fingers along his jaw. “You have quite ruined me for all others.”

They kissed again, languishing in the feel of each other, before he raised his head and spoke, his voice deep and soft, “Now that you’ve wheedled your way into my heart and mind and tricked me into confessing my feelings for you, don’t you think you ought to be on your way…before someone finds us and I’ve damaged your reputation beyond repair? Although, I confess, right now I could think of worse ways to end this evening than betrothed to you…despite your opinions on the subject of marriage.”

The words sent a thrill down her spine even as she realized that he was right. She stepped out of his arms, looking up at him with concern in her eyes. “Are you sure you are quite safe here? Will you not consider spending the night at Worthington House?”

He shook his head at her question, offering a reassuring smile as he tucked a loosened curl behind her ear. “No need. Don’t worry about me, Alex. I would prefer you forget everything you heard this evening.”

She rolled her eyes. “I cannot simply pretend I didn’t hear it, Gavin. Your uncle plotting against you is not something I’m going to easily forget.”

“My uncle?”

The surprised interest in Gavin’s voice set off warning bells for Alex as she realized that he did not know everything there was to know about this particular evening. She had deliberately refrained from mentioning the fact that she’d overheard Lucian Sewell plotting against Gavin earlier—both because she hadn’t been sure how to do it tactfully and because she was certain that if she explained everything, he would be unwilling to leave the house quickly.

“Alexandra. My uncle?”

She paused, unsure of how to proceed—of what words to use to share this terrible information. Taking a deep breath to shore up her courage, she plunged into her explanation. “The conversation I overheard, it was in the library annex of the house, on the way to the orangery?” She pushed on as he nodded in recognition. “There were two men in the room, but the door was closed, so I couldn’t recognize them by voice alone…they were too muffled. I hid in the orangery, just inside the door, in the dark, until they emerged and, while I didn’t recognize the first man to exit, I did recognize the second.” She stopped, making sympathetic eye contact with Gavin before her final revelation. “It was your uncle Lucian.”

He stood stock-still for a brief moment before speaking frankly, “You are mistaken.”

It was Alex’s turn to be surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, there is no possible way that my uncle is plotting against the Blackmoor line. You did not see what you think you saw.”

“But I did, Gavin. I saw your uncle exit that room.”

“No, Alex, you couldn’t have. My uncle Lucian is many things, but he would never betray his family. Of that, I am certain.”

Indignation was rising in Alex’s chest; she was beginning to feel warm with defensive ire. “With all due respect, my lord, I witnessed something that points to the opposite.”

“I am sure that you believe you did, Alex. But I’m telling you that you were wrong. I don’t doubt that you saw someone who appeared to be my uncle. However, it was not he. Of that I am certain.”

“I know what I saw. You are in grave danger. And Lucian Sewell is a threat to you and to the Blackmoor line. He admitted to killing your father, Gavin.” She saw the cool response in his eyes. “You do not believe me.”

“I don’t doubt what you heard. Only its source.” Noticing her rising anger, he attempted to calm her. “Alex, my uncle Lucian adored his older brother—he was the first of the family to arrive at the Blackmoor estate once we found my father’s body. He has been infinitely helpful in assisting me with the transition to earl. He has been an active part of the discussion relating to my father’s death and the potential threat to me. He’s an ally. Not a villain.”

“But isn’t it possible that all those things make him the perfect villain?” Alex’s voice rose in desperation as she saw Gavin’s expression darken. “Perhaps he was first to the Essex estate because he was already there. Have you even considered that his assistance in your transition to earl was merely a ploy to get closer to whatever information your father had garnered? And, Gavin…you must stop including him in any discussion of your safety. He is not to be trusted.”

She watched him as he leaned against his desk, arms crossed over his broad chest, and her frustration brought tears to her eyes. She refused to cry in his study. Taking another deep breath, she spoke, her voice quivering, “I risked my reputation to come here tonight. I came out of nothing but the deepest concern for you and your family’s well-being. I would never ever suggest something so damaging if I did not believe, with all my heart, that it was true. And you owe it to me—and to yourself—to at least consider it a possibility.”

His expression was dark as he leveled her with a cool, grey gaze. “You are right that you have risked your reputation coming here tonight, Alex. It seems you have also risked my family’s good name in doing so. I think it best you return to the ball and forget everything you saw. I assure you that we have this situation well in hand.”

She was shocked by his cold dismissal. Was it possible he was offended by her concern? She opened her mouth to speak again, but he cut her off before any sound could escape. “I have heard what you have to say, Alex. You needn’t repeat it. I encourage you to leave, and be quick about it. I would prefer that my uncle’s character be the only one maligned this evening.”

“Gavin—”

“Good night, Alexandra.”

She watched him turn away from her, tears welling in her eyes. “Gavin—” He paused, not turning back, but clearly focused on her next words. “Be careful. Please.”

And, with that, she turned and pushed the window open wide once more, enough for her to sit on the edge and swing herself out into the flower bed below. He made no move to help her exit and she landed off balance in the moist, soft soil, one knee sinking into the fresh dirt.

She didn’t care about her ruined gown, or her filthy slippers, or the tears that were threatening to pour down her face. All she cared about was getting back home and finding someone who would believe her.

eighteen

She did not have to go far.

Once back in the Worthington House gardens, she retraced her steps to the balcony of the music room. She crossed the darkened space as though in a trance, not knowing to whom to go or what to say. She opened the door to step into the hallway filled with guests who had left the ballroom for quieter conversations or a moment’s rest, and Vivi and Ella spilled into the doorway, barely catching themselves from falling at her feet. The two had obviously been standing with their backs against the door, waiting for her to return.

If Alex hadn’t been so shocked by her encounter with Gavin, she would have burst into laughter.

Vivi righted herself first, whispering harshly, “Thank goodness! We’ve been worried to death!”

“And curious to death,” Ella added.

Vivi looked at Ella oddly. “That’s not even a phrase.” Returning her attention to Alex, she continued, “We were just wondering whether we should call in the cavalry.”