Page 70 of From Duke Till Dawn
“What’s he promised you?” Alex asked gently.
“Ain’t promised me nothing,” Becky spat. “If I knew him. Which I don’t.”
“Not a good one for holding to his word, Hughes.” Alex gave a rueful smile. “He broke his promise to Cassandra.”
“He’s never shown loyalty to anyone other than himself,” Cassandra said flatly. “You a gambler? Because the odds are right strong that he’s going to leave town without taking you with him.”
Again, Becky worried the pearls of her necklace.
“That pretty trinket, the one he gave you with many promises,” Alex noted. “He gave it to you to placate his own conscience. Gifting it to you makes him feel better about abandoning you.”
“Shut your toff mouth,” Becky snapped. Then she realized she’d already given away too much, and slammed her lips shut.
“We need to find him,” Cassandra said urgently. “He wronged people. Loads of people—me included. And if I don’t find him, I’m as good as dead. But if you help us find him,” she continued, her tone softening, “I’ll make sure you get something for your trouble.”
Becky shoved back from the table and got to her feet. Fury and fear waged war in her expression. “Don’t got to listen to either of you.” She started for the door, then swung around, pointing her finger. “You follow me, I’ll lose you. These streets is my home. I grew up here. I can take care of myself, mind.”
Alex stood. “I’m the Duke of Greyland.” Before Becky could speak in surprise at his rank, he went on. “You can find me in Mayfair, Portman Square. When you’re ready to talk.”
Becky opened her mouth, then shut it. She left the gin house quickly, her steps rapid and urgent on the pavement.
Alex turned back to Cassandra, who had risen to her feet.
“What if she doesn’t come to us?” she asked. “Martin’s got a slick way about him. He can talk his way out of a tiger trap.”
“There are more leads to follow.”
She lifted her empty hands. “I’m tapped out of ideas.”
“Something will come to us.” He stepped closer. “We’ve run all over this damn city, chasing information, hunting hints. Looking for Hughes and the money. Now,” he said lowly, “I take you home. This time is ours. Dawn is almost here, and I want you in my bed before sunrise.”
Her eyes widened. Yet she didn’t object. She crossed to him and took his hand in hers. Their gazes locked, and even the grim gin house fell away as he fell deeper under her spell.
In the waning hours of the night, she would be his. Truly his. And he would be hers.
Without speaking, they exited the gin house to hasten back to Mayfair.
Despite the shabbiness of the neighborhood, it didn’t take long for Alex to hail a cab. The world bent and shifted to his will. He simply wanted something, and it was his.
Including me.
This thought turned itself over and over in Cassandra’s head until it became like a stone worn smooth by handling. They rode back to the Orchid Club, where they retrieved his carriage, and then on to Portman Square.
Neither of them spoke on the journey to Mayfair—but intent was thick and heady in the cab’s interior. His fingers wove with hers. His thumb stroked her wrist, ensuring her pulse never slowed. It was almost as if they couldn’t speak of what was to come—as though looking too long at it would blind them. So they left it alone out of a sense of self-preservation.
In Cheltenham, when they had gone to bed together, she hadn’t truly known what she was getting into. Cassandra had told herself it was merely the pursuit of pleasure, but she’d never truly believed that. And in the intervening years, when she chose not to take other lovers, she saw more and more that Alex had branded himself upon her body and her heart. She only wantedhim.
Heading toward his home, toward his bed, she knew exactly what she was doing. There would be no going back once they’d made love again. Her soul would ache for the feel of him and to watch Alex lose himself to desire. In the solitary years that inevitably followed, she might curse herself for having a taste of what could never be. Yet she couldn’t stop. For this moment, she’d yield to the demands of her heart. She would suffer the consequences—later.
Unlike in Cheltenham, this time she was more purposeful and deliberate. But that didn’t make her heart stop pounding, or stem the heat that gathered between her legs and tightened her breasts. If anything, she felt all these sensations even stronger than before. Because she knew what was to come. Because she’d looked into the void and decided, against better judgment, to jump.
Dawn was minutes away when the carriage pulled up outside Alex’s home. After they exited the vehicle, he walked her up the front steps and inside, his hand at her back. Was he afraid she’d change her mind and run? She couldn’t speak just yet, but if she’d been able to, she would’ve told him his concern was unfounded. There was nothing she wanted more than to feel him inside her. She wanted it... and she was afraid. Afraid of the pain of isolation she would feel in the months and years ahead.
They stood together in the foyer. He dismissed the footman. Acting the role of servant, he helped her take off her cloak and set it aside solemnly. For several moments, they did nothing but gaze at each other as the sky outside began to turn ashen and pale.
“A drink?” he suggested.
She considered it. A nice, soothing dram of whiskey could chase away the nerves that stretched her taut.
