Slave to the Night (The Brotherhood 2)

She shrugged. "Yes, but it is hardly monstrous. How long have you suffered from this dreadful illness?"

"Four years." Elliot took a deep breath. "Look. Mrs. Denton, I understand—"

"Please don't call me that," she interjected. "It implies a connection I do not wish to be reminded of. Besides, after what has just occurred, I believe we have crossed the boundaries of propriety."

Elliot snorted. "I think we crossed them way before that. But let me reiterate. If you wish to leave, I will find someone else to help you in your quest to find your sister."

"I don't want to leave." She paused and glanced down at her hands clasped together in front of her. "I … I have never known anyone I can talk to so easily. So, you have a terrible condition that is rather debilitating. I've known perfectly healthy men who are rotten to their core. What sort of a person would I be to ask for your friendship only to stumble and reject you at the first hurdle?"

Grace Denton was the most remarkable woman he had ever met.

"You don't need to fear me, Grace."

"I know," she said with a smile. "Forgive me, for storming in here and almost killing you. You have been far too kind to me and do not deserve to suffer for it."

Every minute he spent in her company caused a torturous agony to writhe in his chest and his belly.

"I presume whatever you wanted was urgent and could not wait."

She moved to the end of the bed, took the blanket and shook it out before draping it over his legs. Then she picked up her sister's diary from the floor. "It can wait until later. I'll give you some privacy so you can rest for a while. When you feel able, we'll talk then."

He couldn't help but smile. "I'll be up in a few hours." He was so tempted to ask her to stay, but he did not have the strength to fight his attraction to her. She didn't need to be seduced and pleasured by a scoundrel. The lady needed to be loved and cherished by a good man — things far beyond his meagre capabilities.

Chapter 6

"And you're sure your brother and his wife are happy for me to stay with them for a few days?" The last thing Grace wanted was to be a nuisance. Not after all the trouble she'd caused this morning. "I thought they'd recently married. Won't it be somewhat awkward?"

The carriage turned sharply, forcing her to grab onto the seat for fear of tumbling forward into Lord Markham's lap. Whenever he looked at her, she recalled the pained expression in his eyes. She recalled the look of sheer terror when she'd yanked at the drapes. Although she had been equally as scared — of him, of the strange, macabre change in his features, of the thought he might die. If only he'd told her of his terrible plight. But then she'd only known him for a day.

The realisation shocked her.

One day felt like one year.

The days spent in the company of Henry Denton ran into the hundreds, too many to count. Despite them all, he had been a relative stranger. Those ice-blue eyes would haunt her for a lifetime. The memory of such a lonely existence was more akin to gruelling torture.

She shivered at the thought.

The hours waiting for Lord Markham to rise had been spent in soulful contemplation. Whilst strolling in his garden, she'd considered a life trapped in the darkness. To never feel the sun's rays warm your skin, to never have the opportunity to lose oneself in a perfectly blue sky, was a difficult thing to comprehend.

Like a slave to the night, he was chained to the darkness. Such restrictions must inevitably cause anger and frustration to simmer. Yet tonight he appeared composed, serene, unruffled.

"They're more than happy to have you to stay," he said, and she stared at his straight teeth as he talked, wondering what trick caused them to extend.

"It will only be for a few days." Without news of Caroline, she'd have no choice but to return to Cobham. She

had no idea what to do next. Perhaps she should attend another event, pose as Caroline in the hope of gathering more information. She would have to go alone. It would be unfair to expect Lord Markham's assistance after everything he'd already done for her.

For the first time in three days, she pushed her feelings for Caroline aside.

These few private minutes were probably the last she would spend with Lord Markham. The thought caused a new wave of sadness. Regardless of his reputation, she liked him, and she did not want her memory of him to be tainted by the terrifying events of the day. Judging by his reaction to Caroline's criticism of him in her diary, she assumed he received little praise for his character. Well, she could do something about that.

"Before we reach your brother's house, I would like to say something." She swallowed deeply as her cheeks grew warm.

"Say what you will. But you do not need to apologise again for opening the drapes."

"I am truly sorry about that, but no. I want to tell you that … that you are perhaps the kindest, most honest gentleman I know. I do not care what others say or what they write about you in their silly little books. There are no words to express the depth of my gratitude for all you have done to help me."

Her throat felt so tight she dare not even try to say another word.