Slave to the Night (The Brotherhood 2)

She took a deep breath and her bottom lip quivered. "I … I will need to speak to Caroline. I assume she'll have to come home to Cobham." She stared at a point beyond his shoulder. "Although I'm not sure it will feel like home to me, not anymore."

I love you.

Her words drifted through his mind again, to tempt and to torture him.

"It depends on one's definition of home," he said, his tone melancholic. "Is it the place of one's birth or one's abode? Or is it the place where one's heart belongs?"

He searched her face, her bright blue eyes reminding him of a forget-me-not: wild, vibrant, the emblem of constancy and friendship. He committed the colour to memory, knowing he would never forget her, knowing she was the only woman ever to touch his soul.

A smile touched the corners of her luscious mouth. "Perhaps home has ceased to be a place for me."

He inhaled deeply, calming waves rippling through his body. "Grace, with you—"

"Perhaps I should thank Lady Sudley," Leo said striding into the room to spoil the beauty of the moment. "You know how the ladies love a scar. I think it makes me look more dastardly, more sinfully dangerous."

Elliot forced a chuckle though his mind was distracted with thoughts of Grace. It would always be Grace. "I'm glad to see you've recovered and feel more like your old self."

It suddenly occurred to him that Leo had not noticed the change in him.

He supposed it was not evident outwardly. Yet inside he knew he was not the same man who paraded the ballrooms with his brother, looking for licentious ways to keep memories of the devil woman at bay.

He would never be that man again. But who was he now?

It was a question he could not answer, no matter how hard he tried.

Chapter 19

Grace brushed her sister's hair from her brow and straightened the coverlet. "How are you feeling?"

Caroline shuffled up to a sitting position. "Still a little weak, but then I have been in bed for days. It is good of your friends to let me stay here. I couldn't face going back to Arlington Street."

Hours had passed since escorting Lady Sudley home and dawn was fast approaching. Caroline had woken an hour ago and was starting to seem more like her usual self.

"I assume it is Mr. Henshaw who pays the rent on the property?" Grace said.

Caroline nodded. "He did, but Lady Sudley informed me he gave notice before he left for Europe. The blighter didn't even have the decency to tell me. I should have known he could not be trusted."

Could any man really be trusted?

Although the events of the last few days had altered her opinion — she could trust Elliot Markham with her life.

Grace perched on the edge of the bed. "Do you remember what happened on the night you went to Hanover Street?" They had only heard snippets from Mrs. Jones and Lady Sudley. "What prompted you to go there?"

Caroline stared at the pink floral wallpaper. "I received a note. I thought it was from Mark. It had been signed and sealed and having not received one before I had nothing to compare it to. I'd never met him at his home and thought he wanted to talk about the child."

"Was it Lady Sudley who sent you the note asking you to come to Hanover Street?"

Caroline nodded. Grace offered her a drink of tea, but she waved the cup away.

"How was I to know Mark had planned to go abroad?" Caroline pressed the pads of her fingers to her temple and groaned. "Do you know what she said to me? I could hardly believe my ears."

"Lady Sudley wanted you to give her the child you're carrying," Grace said unable to hide the note of sympathy. "So she could raise it as her own."

"Can you believe it? The woman gave such a pitiful display. I couldn't help but sneer at her desperation."

Caroline was not known for her compassion. Yet, under the circumstances, Grace could understand her sister's frustration.

"Sometimes, in trying to please others, people can make the wrong choices." Indeed, Grace had made a similar mistake. "But in the long term, they only end up hurting themselves."