Lost to the Night (The Brotherhood 1)

“Please, you must call me Evelyn,” she said, dismissing the earl’s sudden intake of breath. “Allow me to introduce you both to our generous host, the Earl of Hale.”

The Sutherby siblings’ respectful greeting was met with a frown severe enough to silence a pack of howling dogs.

“When I gave instructions to call at five, I meant it,” the earl said sharply. “I cannot abide shoddy manners.”

Mr. Sutherby’s sky-blue eyes flashed with surprise and Miss Sutherby’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she stepped forward.

“Surely you can forgive this one misdemeanour, my lord.” She batted her lashes in such a salacious manner that Evelyn felt a tiny stab of jealousy upon anticipating the earl’s excited reaction.

“No, I’m afraid I can’t,” he said, oblivious to the woman’s charms. “When I invite someone to my home, I expect them to pay me the respect of arriving on time.”

Mrs. Shaw was right. The earl seemed determined to ensure they never called upon him again.

Rath

er than challenge the earl by using the unfortunate accident as an excuse, Mr. Sutherby offered his usual affable smile. “You’re right. Forgive our rudeness, my lord. It will not happen again.”

The earl inclined his head in response. “I should think not, as you’ll have no need to call again.”

An uncomfortable silence ensued and Evelyn turned to the earl and whispered through gritted teeth, “Are you going to offer them tea?”

He shrugged in response. “I don’t drink tea,” he said loud enough for them to hear. “This is not a social call, which is the only reason I’ve let them stay.”

Evelyn waited for Mr. Sutherby to challenge the earl for his coarse manner and for showing his sister such disrespect, but the man said nothing. Timidity was not a quality she desired in anyone, let alone a man destined to be her husband. No lady could possibly be happy on the arm of a coward.

“There is no need to be so rude,” Evelyn said determined to defend them. “You know why they’re here. And I’m certain they have no intention of ever daring to turn up uninvited.”

His gaze searched her face and his mouth curled up in response. “Then they may sit while Mrs. Shaw prepares your aunt for the journey.”

Mr. Sutherby should have told him to go to the devil. He should have stormed out to wait for her in his carriage. Instead, both brother and sister sat down near the window and began conversing about the appalling weather. Evelyn sat with them and relayed details of the accident while the earl sat in the farthest corner of the room, shrouded in the shadows.

Evelyn tried to concentrate on the conversation, but her attention was drawn to the brooding figure in the corner. Surprisingly, she found she preferred his scathing honesty to Mr. Sutherby’s placid temperament. The gentlemen were equally as handsome. However, the earl’s features were more rugged, more intriguing, reflecting the mysteriousness of the night, as opposed to Mr. Sutherby’s sunny disposition.

You don’t love him.

The words drifted through her mind without provocation and no matter how hard she tried she could not dismiss them. Whenever Mr. Sutherby spoke, they popped into her head again, and she felt relieved when Mrs. Shaw entered to say her aunt was ready to depart.

Their luggage had been loaded, and Aunt Beatrice helped up into the carriage. The Sutherbys thanked the earl for his hospitality, but his cold reply sent them scurrying into their conveyance like mice fleeing a cat’s claws.

“Thank you for helping my aunt,” Evelyn said. The earl refused to see her to the door, and so they hung back in the dark hallway. “I’m sorry if I made you feel that you had no other choice.”

“I do not dwell on the past. It is done with, forgotten.” He stepped closer, took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and stared into her eyes. “You may despise my blunt approach, but honesty delivers a short, sharp blow. To live a lie causes a constant pain that lasts a lifetime. Remember those words when you listen to what your kind, affable gentleman has to say.”

How did he know what she was thinking? How was he so perceptive to her needs? How was he able to see into her soul and understand her fears and doubts? She had an urge to reach out to him, too, to offer comfort. But she wouldn’t know where to begin.

Without another word — without a parting greeting or a promise to meet again — he dropped his hand and walked away from her, his sudden absence creating an empty feeling she could not explain.

Mrs. Shaw was standing near the carriage door, waiting to wave them off. “Now, you mind how you go,” she said. “I’ve packed a tincture for your aunt that should help take down the swelling. Just a spoonful before bed should suffice, and she’ll be as sturdy as a butcher’s block in no time.”

Evelyn hugged the old woman. “He’s lucky to have you,” she said nodding towards the house. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for us.”

Mrs. Shaw batted Evelyn’s arm. “You’ll be making an old woman sob on the doorstep if you carry on like that.”

Evelyn smiled and moved to open the carriage door. She stopped and turned back to the housekeeper. “I know his title, but what’s his name? He never told us and he’s not the sort of man one asks.”

Mrs. Shaw returned her smile and then peeked back over her shoulder. “It’s Alexander Cole.”

Alexander Cole.