Slave to the Night (The Brotherhood 2)

How could he?

If anything, he owed her a debt of gratitude for the beautiful gift she had left behind. For the only woman who had ever managed to penetrate his arrogant facade. The only woman capable of warming his cold heart.

Chapter 10

From the moment they pulled up outside her sister's house in Arlington Street, Grace knew they would not find Caroline inside. It looked too dark, too desolate and lonely.

"Let me walk in first." Elliot stepped in front of her, protecting her like a shield, and she held onto his sleeve as they navigated the gloomy hallway. The cold air held a damp, earthy smell, supporting her theory that the house still lay empty.

"Thank you for agreeing to come with me," she whispered.

Having spent two days alone in the house, she should have had no problem nipping back in on her own. Of course, Elliot would not hear of it. How very different he was to Henry, she thought.

After checking all of the rooms leading from the hallway, Grace tapped Elliot's arm. "Perhaps we should check her bedchamber."

"What about the kitchen?"

"I doubt Caroline would even know where it is," she said with a chuckle.

"If we're here, we may as well do a thorough search."

"Very well."

They made their way to the kitchen. The black shadows became clearer as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. When she entered the room, she had no trouble spotting the wicker basket filled with provisions sitting on the table.

"They weren't here before." Her voice revealed her surprise, and she pointed to the basket desperate to examine its contents.

Rummaging through, she found bread, a few eggs and a jar of strawberry preserve, amongst other things.

Elliot picked up the cube of wrapped butter, turned it over in his hand and then placed it back into the basket. "One of her servants must have brought it here for you. But why leave? Why not stay?"

"Perhaps she did wait but thought I'd gone home, back to Cobham." Grace could have stamped the floor in frustration. "It was wrong of me to leave. I should have stayed. I should have waited. Mrs. Jones might have been able to tell me more."

"There's no point dwelling on it now. Besides, Barrington is far too unstable. You would not wish to be here alone if he came knocking."

Grace snorted. "Instability is a trait I am used to dealing with."

She met his intense gaze, his emerald eyes sparkling sinfully in the darkness. It felt as though her stomach held a thousand loose feathers, all floating about in a bid to torment and tickle.

"Are you referring to your husband or your sister?"

"Both," she said unable to suppress a sigh.

There was a brief moment of silence before he asked, "Did … did he hurt you?"

"Who? Henry?" An odd chuckle escaped from her lips, the sound far from revealing any hint of happiness. "He hurt me in many ways. Too many to mention."

Too many to forget, she added silently.

Grace looked to the floor and focused on blotting away the stains that were her memories. She knew how to suppress them. But the sullied marks always remained. Lord Markham stepped around the table and placed his hands on her upper arms.

"If your husband were alive I would bloody well kill him."

There was a truth to his words that touched her soul. If only she had known him before. If only he could have been her champion. It pleased her that he could curse in her company. Lord Markham never treated her like a child. He never disrespected her. She always felt safe and protected.

"Why are you helping me?" The words tumbled out of her mouth without thought.

His gaze drifted over her face, falling to her lips, and h