“I don’t care what she needs.” And he didn’t. Other people’s petty trials were no concern of his. “Drag her away kicking and screaming if you have to. Just get rid of her … and find out how the hell she got in.”
Pacing back and forth to stop his traitorous mind from considering any other option, he clenched his teeth and hardened his jaw.
She was probably just another ogler come to see the hideous earl. He knew that’s what they called him. Perhaps she thought he needed saving. Perhaps she needed money and believed it was more preferable to lie with an ugly man than to suffer the pain of hunger writhing in her belly.
The thought of hunger roused the faintest flicker of sympathy.
Something forced him to turn back to the window: a tug in his chest, in his abdomen — but the lady was gone. A sense of relief coursed through him, accompanied by the familiar feeling of regret.
Ignoring the broken glass scattered about the floor, he threw himself down into the leather chair and resumed the state of thoughtful contemplation as he continued to gaze into the flames.
He heard the lady’s cries and protests resonate along the hall as Mrs. Shaw met her at the front door.
“Wait, wait, you can’t come in. His lordship doesn’t take kindly to visitors.”
“Do I look as though I’m here to take tea?”
Alexander straightened. The predator in him was alert and ready to pounce — the man curious and inquisitive.
“Come back here. Trust me. You won’t want to make him angry.”
“Do I look as though I care? I have far more important things to worry about.”
With those stony words, the lady burst in through the door, forcing him to jump up from his seat and face her while Mrs. Shaw waddled in behind.
“I tried to stop her, my lord. I told her you don’t want company.”
He raised a hand to calm his housekeeper.
The lady strode up to him, coming to a halt a mere foot away. She wore no bonnet, and her chestnut-brown hair looked dull and shabby. Her left cheek was grazed, the skin red and swollen, the rest of her face smudged with dirt. Her filthy cloak didn’t look fit for a pauper. Yet, in spite of it all, her countenance conveyed strength, good breeding, and an unshakable resolve.
“You must hurry,” she said not bothering with an introduction. “There’s been an accident … my aunt is … my aunt is …”
She stopped abruptly, her curious gaze searching his face as though scrutinizing every line, every detail. He knew why, of course. She’d been expecting a monster.
“Your face,” she continued, tilting her head. “There’s … there’s not a mark on it. Not even a blemish.”
He couldn’t help but smirk.
With a look of wonder, her gloveless hand drifted up towards his cheek, and he noticed her dirty nails and the cut that ran across one knuckle. Worst of all, he noticed the dried blood.
Sucking in a breath, he stepped back.
“Forgive me,” she said, dropping her hand and shaking her head. “I don’t know what came over me. I heard you were, that you were —”
“Disfigured.”
“That you’d been in an accident and had suffered —” She gasped and her hand flew to her chest. “The accident … our carriage has overturned, no more than a mile from here. I fear my aunt has re
ceived an injury to her head, and I need your help. Please, you must come quickly.”
Alexander shook his head. He could not be alone with her, not in the forest at night, not when there would be blood. “I’m afraid I cannot help you.”
Her mouth fell open.
“There’s an inn a few miles along the road,” he added not knowing why he felt a sudden need to offer assistance. “My groom will escort you there directly. I suggest you leave now. It will not take long to prepare the horses.”
“But there’s no time. It will be too late. You must come now. ”