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Lost to the Night (The Brotherhood 1)

Page 15

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It occurred to her that his rudeness was a mask for something else. What was he hiding? What was he scared of? That strange feeling swamped her again: the need to soothe his wounds, the need to hear kind words fall from his lips.

Evelyn stood, and he looked relieved. But rather than head for the door, she walked over to the shutters.

“Why is it so dark in here?” she asked, determined to unnerve him. “Why does it feel as though someone has died and the house in a state of constant mourning?”

She touched the shutters, and he gasped, rushing over and patting them to check they were still in place. With his mind preoccupied with the shutters, she strode over to the easel to examine his sketch in the hope it would reveal something of the man he kept hidden.

The sight caused all the air to leave her lungs and her heart skipped a beat as a rush of pure emotion exploded until her eyes brimmed with tears.

The Earl of Hale had sketched the most beautiful portrait of her. She was sitting on the bank of a river filled with water lilies, the reflection of the moon shimmering on its mirrored surface. She wore a sleeveless dress, her hair cascading in ripples over bare shoulders. He’d captured her unusually wide eyes to perfection, although her lips appeared fuller, more sensual. There was something magical about the scene, something ethereal.

Evelyn swung around to look at him but could find no words to express the strange feeling that consumed her.

The earl stood and stared in a moment of frozen stasis, yet she sensed his embarrassment. For the first time since meeting him, she thought she saw something more than frustration and irritation flashing in his eyes.

She had no notion how long they stood in stupefied silence, staring deep into each other’s eyes. But a loud rap on the door broke the spell.

The door opened a fraction, and Mrs. Shaw popped her head around. “Forgive me, my lord, but Mr. Sutherby has arrived.”

His anger surfaced immediately. “Well, he can bloody well wait. I told him to come at five. Is the man so stupid he cannot read?”

“I’ve put them in the drawing room. What with it being so overcast today, it will be the most suitable place.”

“Them?”

“The gentleman’s brought his sister with him.”

The earl dragged the palm of his hand down his face and cursed again. “We’ll be along in a moment.”

Mrs. Shaw left them, and the earl nodded to the easel. “I often sketch when I’ve nothing else better to do,” he said, his tone frosty.

Evelyn suppressed a smile. Nothing he could say could demean the effort it had taken to capture her likeness or the fact that he had chosen her as his subject. This tortured, complicated man was certainly an enigma.

Evelyn walked towards the door. She stopped in front of him and placed her hand lightly on his sleeve. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “So beautiful it makes me want to cry.”

He swallowed visibly before replacing his mask of indifference. “I’m not the sort who enjoys displays of sentimentality. But rest assured, the kindest, most handsome man in all of England has come to your rescue.”

Evelyn pulled her hand away, but the frisson of excitement the connection stirred still coursed through her body. “People are not always what they seem, my lord,” she said. “I’ve heard it said that the coldest of men often hide the biggest heart.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Miss Bromwell. The coldest men often have no heart.”

Chapter 6

Evelyn’s heart pounded in her chest as she walked across the hall towards the drawing room. The inevitable day had come. The day when she would have to confront her feelings for Mr. Sutherby. Although she believed the rapid beating had more to do with the Earl of Hale’s hot palm, placed lightly at the small of her back to guide her towards the desired room. Even when his hand fell to his side, she could feel the imprint searing her skin like a branding iron.

“My dear, Miss Bromwell.” Mr. Sutherby jumped from his seat as though the padding was on fire, his mop of fair hair falling forward as he rushed to take her hands in his. He brought them to his mouth and brushed his clammy lips across her bare skin. “You look so weak, so frightfully pale. What a horrendous time you’ve had. We’ve been so worried, haven’t we, Charlotte?”

“Indeed, we have hardly slept a wink,” said the golden-haired beauty coming to stand at his side.

Dressed impeccably in a fashionable fawn silk gown and tucker, Charlotte Sutherby made Evelyn feel positively frumpish in her plain muslin dress. Vanity was a trait she despised yet she suddenly wished she’d spent more time on her appearance.

“Allow me to introduce my sister, Charlotte.” Mr. Sutherby gestured to the lady as she offered a demure curtsy.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Evelyn said, “If only our first meeting could have been under less harrowing circumstances.”

“When we heard what had happened to you, Miss Bromwell, we were aghast,” Charlotte said clutching her hands to her chest.

Evelyn could feel the earl’s penetrating gaze boring into her back. Hostility hung in the air like a guillotine, waiting for the opportune moment to come crashing down on its victim.



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