don’t understand,” Alexander said shaking his head. “We bear the same mark. But how did you come by it?”
“I have it too,” Elliot said. “Ever since the night I met a golden-haired goddess with razor-sharp teeth. We call it the mark of the brotherhood.”
“Well, the ladies seem to like it,” Devlin added as he dressed.
Alexander struggled to comprehend what they were telling him. “The golden-haired woman, she said there were more, but I didn’t think —”
“To find them in a ballroom in London,” Elliot interjected.
A million and one questions flooded his mind. “Do you have the same … the same afflictions?”
Devlin chuckled. “We live for the night. We have the same desperate thirst for blood. We heard you call out to your lover.”
Alexander gritted his teeth. “Miss Bromwell is not my lover.”
“But you want her to be,” Elliot said.
There was nothing he wanted more. But he could not risk hurting her. “How do you move about in society without … without hurting anyone?”
They both looked at him as though he’d grown an extra head.
“Why would we hurt anyone?” Devlin said. “Oh, you mean biting people and draining their blood. As a mortal man, I loved beef. That doesn’t mean I jumped on every cow I saw in a field. The occasional one, maybe.”
“Ignore him. It is a case of control,” Elliot said. “Anger doesn’t help. When you’re angry, you’re more prone to unpredictability. Frustration is another trigger. Which is why I readily accepted Lady Conley’s offer. You’d be surprised what can be achieved with a calm mind. We have even trained our bodies to eat small amounts of food. It’s not pleasant but …”
“Do people not question why you do not move about in the day?”
“Most dissolute peers don’t rise until three,” Devlin said. “We are not any different. We are not the only men who fall into bed at dawn.”
“How long have you been like this?” Alexander asked.
“Elliot is in his fourth year, me my third. If he had not come along when he did, I’d be dead. The loneliness was all consuming. Like you, I was angry. I’d gotten into many a fight in the hope of being pierced through the heart.”
“What about you?” Elliot asked.
“Two years.” He’d spent two long years believing he was alone, thinking no one would understand the beast that lurked inside. There’d been no one to talk to, no one to help him understand. His declaration raised another question. “Are there any others?”
Elliot shook his head. “Not that we know of. We only knew of you because we heard your call. When you heard our call and followed us, you confirmed our suspicions.”
“Come,” Devlin said. “We’re to attend a rather select party. You should come with us. Perhaps a night cradled between soft thighs will help calm your volatile spirit. The women we entertain have no desire for an emotional connection and with your handsome face, you’ll prove popular.”
Alexander shook his head as he was no longer the sort of man who enjoyed such vacuous pursuits. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll stay here.”
“Miss Bromwell,” Elliot whispered to Devlin, who raised his chin in acknowledgement. “Perhaps we could arrange a little party for him here. Something to soothe his troubled soul. Something he might find more appealing.”
“You do not need to concern yourselves with me,” Alexander replied.
Elliot reached into the pocket of his coat and removed a card. “If you need anything, you’ll find me here. Perhaps we may see you tomorrow night. Lady Westbury is having a ball in honour of her young niece. When the fresh girls come out it always puts the other ladies in the mood for a bit of wild sport.”
Alexander shrugged and placed Elliot’s card in his pocket. He had no desire to parade around at another ball. He’d come tonight for one reason only.
Wearing the same arrogant smirk, both gentlemen stepped forward and patted him on the back. “Until next time,” they said in unison. “Welcome to the brotherhood.”
Chapter 12
Charlotte Sutherby’s rather quick recovery annoyed Evelyn. She could not shake the suspicion that it had all been an act to lure her away from Alexander. Indeed, as soon as the gentleman had disappeared from sight, Charlotte felt considerably better. Usually after swooning, one would feel nauseous or be plagued by a headache. Fresh air and a cup of hot tea were said to work wonders, but Charlotte insisted her brother fetch a double helping of ratafia.
Thoughts of being kissed by the enigmatic Alexander Cole refused to be tempered, and her mind conjured all sorts of scenarios, involving a swim at midnight, a bench and a broken fountain. Whenever she reached the most exciting part of the daydream, Charlotte’s whining sent the thoughts scattering like dead leaves in the wind.