A Proper Scandal (Ravensdale Family Book 2) Read online

  “Peprin gave me to D’Ambreious. Apparently I’m worth a lot,” she said, bitter. “And D’Ambreious…”

  She tensed beneath him and he knew. She didn’t need to say any more. It put the night’s events in perspective.

  “Did he touch you?” If only he could break through the remnants of fog clouding his mind, he would see them both leveled to the ground.

  “Oh god,” she cried, pulling him tighter. “He tried, Alex. He tried and I…”

  He didn’t want to hear the truth as he kissed her cheek.

  “I knocked him unconscious before anything could happen and I ran. I found you, but you…oh, what a dark place you’ve been in. Are you back? Have you come back to me now? We’re in trouble and I’m scared.”

  That word scared wasn’t part of Minnie’s vocabulary.

  He let go of her and dropped below the waves, pushing himself to move below the water and swim. He must wake up. He had to wake up because he would see them safe. He would not let her down again.

  *

  They raced through the dark streets of Nice, settling on a small rundown hotel on the city’s edge. The room they secured was small, nothing impressive, but a striking callback to what they once shared in London.

  She waited by the door as Alex shut the curtains, cloaking the room in darkness. She dropped their bag at her feet and walked closer, stripping off the damp dress, leaving it pooled on the floor. Her skin felt tight, still covered in salt. She was much too tired to care.

  Alex lit the gas lamp by the bed. He froze when he noticed her naked. She stood before him, her palms opened to him. Her heart was his anyway—why must she hide behind clothes?

  His eyes narrowed on her as he stripped, studying her from the other side of the bed. He remained silent as he peeled off the soaked clothes, each hitting the floor with the weight of a brick. It was an audible reminder of what had happened. She forced her eyes to stay open, afraid that if she closed them she would see D’Ambreious again and become ill once more.

  That voice that had once nagged her back in England to run had returned. But she stayed it off as she watched Alex, refusing to believe that they would end now. They couldn’t be parted.

  But come morning, there was no denying they would run and face a future that was no longer defined. She had ruined what he had fought for again. The pain of it struck at her heart and radiated out to her limbs, soaking down into the marrow of her bones. She would never forgive herself if she prevented Alex from achieving his dream. Hers had long since died, and tonight was the first time that she didn’t mind much.

  She could return to England a ruined woman and hope for the love of her family, or she could continue living as she did in Paris where they celebrated her exile from proper society and welcomed her into the demimonde. They would still throw her parties and see that she was dressed prettily. Minnie would find another patron and live the lie that she was an independent woman. It was a lie that was so corrupted within her that sometimes she almost believed it true.

  She hated the morning and the way it forced everything to become real. At least in the cover of night she could hide behind tidy lies and live a little. At least during the night she could pretend that she wasn’t miserable and alone.

  Minnie tasted blood and realized that she had been biting her lip. She frowned at that. Obviously, she had been carried away with her thoughts, because Alex sat the edge of the bed now, his hand outstretched, calling her to him.

  She hesitated. “I know nothing about you,” Minnie said, the cold truth freezing her in place. “And I can’t…”

  The room was hot, the summer air sucking the moisture off of them as if she were back in the jungles of India. The air stuck to her, drowning her in the room’s must. She was so ashamed to be there, standing before a man she thought she had known, but who apparently had always been a stranger. And she had given him her heart.

  “We have plenty of a past that’s shared,” he offered.

  Minnie stood but feet away; still, it felt like miles. She couldn’t lose him. Not like this. But he must open up to her. She could not risk herself.

  “Please, don’t look at me like that, darling.”

  When he stood to hold her, Minnie took a step back, sickened as his hand dropped at her reproach. They were losing each other far quicker than she thought possible.

  “Christ, Minnie.” He rubbed his wrists again with angry vigor, as if he would rake his hands through his hair next and pull until he was left bald.

  “Tell me. Please.”

  “Let me hold you. C’mere.”

  She shifted on her feet, uncomfortable, yet still bared to him.

  “Lay down at least. We can talk in the morning. It’s been a long day and you look—”

  “Don’t tell me how I look.” Minnie jumped back, clapping a hand over her mouth, surprised at her anger. The silence became worse than the room’s heat after that. Her head swam a little as she stood still, her eyes fixed on the dimly lit wall. Suddenly the freezing ocean water seemed more hospitable than standing there in front of Alex, begging to be let in.

  “In the morning, I’ll see you out of Nice safely. I have some money saved and you can return—”

  “You’re so quick to see me off,” she said bitterly. The blood circled around in her mouth once more, and this time she didn’t loosen her grip on her lip. She needed to hang on a little longer.

  “No.”

  She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself because she didn’t believe him entirely.

  “We’re here because of me,” he said. “I won’t forgive myself.”

  His words weren’t fair, because she had caused this mess. Minnie excelled at bringing the world down around them both. And now he wanted her gone.

  “So, you’re ending our arrangement?” Her voice wasn’t quite her own as she asked. It felt as if a hole had opened itself in her middle and she was being pulled inside, deep into an internal darkness.

  Alex said nothing, which was answer enough. She snapped to, quickly bending down to grab her dress, and attempted to pull the wet fabric over her head. The room was too hot and she could no longer breathe properly. If she could escape the confining box, she might have a chance at rational thought.

  “Stop, Minnie. Stop!”

  She tried to wrestle free of Alex’s grip but she thrashed about, turning blindly with the dress caught around her arms.

  “Stop, darling,” he whispered into her ear.

  Minnie did then, her heart racing as her mind sped ahead. “You can’t call me that any longer. You have no right.”

  But he pulled tighter until she stilled next to his body and his hands slowly untangled the dress from her body, her flesh resting against his. “There is no arrangement.”

  She stiffened again, drawing in a pained breath at his easy dismissal.

  “Look at me.” His voice was so kind. It uncoiled her resolve and she despised him for it. “Look at me,” he repeated. When she didn’t, he pressed his hand under her chin and drew up her gaze. “Whatever we share together, it is more than some arrangement. I don’t want to leave you, I want you safe. You didn’t let me finish.”

  She blinked at his words, letting them settle in that hole within her until slowly, she began to fill in with hope.

  “I don’t speak of my past because it’s unpleasant. I don’t remember all of it. I don’t ask about your past because you never wished to share. What we have is in the present.” He kissed the back of her hands, holding tight and not letting go. “Can’t that be enough?”

  Once it could be, but something had happened between them that had shifted whatever they shared into something more. For it to stand, there needed to be a foundation, one much deeper than their misadventures in London or their secret trysts in Paris.

  “I’ll tell you whatever you wish, but you can’t push me away now,” she said. “You’re all I have left.” She kissed him, afraid to let go.

  The dress fell at their feet and Alex scoo
ped her up, carrying her to bed.

  He levered over her, staring down as he propped himself onto his elbows. He gazed down at her and wrapped a piece of hair behind her ear. “If I tell you, I could lose you.”

  “If you don’t, you’ll lose me too.”

  His eyes shuttered at her words. “But I can’t…I can’t lose you. I—”

  “My parents died when I was five from typhoid fever in India.” It was the first time she had spoken about their passing in years. “My father’s will directed my uncle to bring us to the family’s seat in Yorkshire. He married my governess.” She was just skimming the surface. What of the fairy tales she believed of her mother, of how Minnie always was restless, waiting to find a home of her own. “They have three children now,” she continued. “My older brother, James, is an earl. And I’ve always been jealous of my younger sister, Grace, who is the most perfect creature ever.”

  Alex turned to his side and tucked the sheet around his waist, staring up at the ceiling. As the seconds dragged into long minutes, she thought it must be over. Alex had decided to be a coward and let her walk away. She tried to leave, but his hand pulled her hip, staying her. Minnie looked over her shoulder and slowly rolled back over, propped up onto her elbow. Waiting.

  “I was born in a madhouse.” There was an icy edge to his words as he spoke, addressing the curtained windows as if she stood there instead of lying beside him. “I lived there for a time. For the first ten years of my life. It wasn’t…pleasant. My mother was locked up for moral insanity.”

  Minnie studied him, careful to shield him from the panic she felt sweeping inside her.

  “So you understand,” his voice was so quiet, “my mother wasn’t mad when she was committed—she had been in love and trapped in a bad marriage. But she certainly was mad by the time she died. When I started to suffer from migraines and,” he swallowed, “mania, I was considered mad, too. After my mother died, I spent 142 days locked away in a basement.” He caught her studying his wrists and the dark scars that circled them. He looked down at her with a sad smile and nodded. “I don’t care for anything that’ll tether me.”

  His confession, however ugly it was, was something he needed to do without her comfort, so she remained still.

  “There was an older boy, Danny, who was very well-born. We both escaped because of Isaac’s wife, Nora. That woman I was searching for while in London, in fact.”

  Minnie was stabbed with guilt. What she wouldn’t give to go back and change what she had done now that she knew the truth.

  “Danny wouldn’t leave without me,” Alex continued. “I had never been outside before. I hadn’t experienced what it was like to live beyond bars and chains. His father didn’t want him released from the asylum, so we were forced to run. For a time, we lived on the streets until we befriended a man who headed a brotherhood…”

  “Your tattoos?” She shouldn’t have asked. She didn’t want to stop him now when he was finally opening up. He nodded. One question spun out to five more in her mind, but she held back.

  “I became skilled at petty crime, because a roof over my head depended on it. I only left Liverpool after Danny was killed. I was running the day I met you.”

  “Running from?”

  “The police. There was a brawl and a gentleman’s son was killed along with my friend and a few others.

  “When I was arrested at the casino, they questioned me about Danny’s murder. They knew from my hands that I was involved. I thought I would never see you again. I thought I was going back to the asylum. And you—”

  Minnie pushed up from the bed and kissed him. They both had been so foolish.

  “And you sold your ballet slippers. For me.”

  “Of course,” she said between kisses.

  They kissed for some time in the dark until kissing wouldn’t heal the wounds that one had suffered by the other. They made love until their bodies tired and they fell asleep tangled together, their hearts beating the same contented rhythm. They slept for some time, their skin sticky with heat and passion, each heart finally understanding the other.

  *

  Alex stared up at the ceiling, twirling a strand of Minnie’s hair as he silently tried to straighten out the mess they were in. Their trouble was a burden, but one that was ultimately diminished by the weight of her body resting on top of his, the way her breath caressed his collarbone as she dreamed with her lips parted, the way her hand was still woven with his. There was happiness, and then there was what he shared with Minnie. His mind whirred to find some way of explaining what his heart thundered to his spirit. It hummed through him, pushing Alex further and further to a breaking point, to some mounting change he couldn’t fathom because he never thought it possible.

  “I miss your hair,” he said without thinking.

  Her long eyelashes swept across his skin in a teasing stroke, soft and sweet. “I’m not bald,” she whispered finally, her voice full of sleep. “You were the only one who ever liked it.”

  “It fit you.”

  “My personality, you mean?”

  He nodded. Her skin was like silk beneath his fingers. “I suppose that’s what I mean.”

  “Evangeline Dupree is a brunette and the people love her for it. No one wants to disown her or judge her because she was cursed with red hair.”

  “It was beautiful, Min. I’d fight anyone to the death who says otherwise.”

  Her lips pressed against his chest and once more, his breath escaped him. How was it possible for someone to rob another of breath?

  “We should talk,” he said, unable to avoid the heavy sigh that followed.

  “What for?” She turned to rest her chin on his chest, looking up at him with a devilish glint to her eyes.

  He grabbed her arms and pulled her body up his. The sensation made his blood boil like an uncivilized animal. She straddled his body, tugging the sheet around her chest before leaning down and kissing him. “Tell me,” she urged. “I can be very persuasive if you don’t.”

  “I want you to be.”

  She laughed and nipped at his neck. Her breasts brushed against his chest as the sheet slid lower in her grip.

  “Give me your hand,” he said huskily. She ran her tongue up the line of his throat. His whole body stirred, burning with a heat that threatened to sear and singe him. He reached down and yanked the signet ring off his pinky and jammed it onto her ring finger, sealing his lips over hers in a scorching kiss.

  Their lips battled each other as he continued to draw her down and she tried to pull away, until, with a laugh, she pushed her hands against his chest and stared down at her hand. Shock washed over her face and it stopped Alex’s heart. She was a savage when it came to matters of the heart—his in particular.

  “Mrs. Marwick,” he smiled. “I have nothing to offer you. Everything is tied up at the moment in the theater, but I’ll…”

  Her eyes glistened with tears. If she wasn’t smiling so brightly he would panic, but clearly she was happy and for once in her life, speechless.

  “Darling?”

  Minnie giggled, collapsing onto his chest again. “Yes?” she finally asked, her lips brushing against his.

  He adored this woman. “Will you—”

  The door crashed open, flooding the room with light and too much liquor.

  *

  Minnie went cold. Dread filled her with each hammering heartbeat. Alex pulled her off his lap and moved in front of her, shielding her from the tall shadow of the man in the doorway.

  Monsieur Peprin lit a cigar, the brief flash of the match displaying the rage playing out across his face. “You come demanding money, then steal away Evangeline. You’re a damn thief like Ainsworth.”

  “A misunderstanding,” Alex replied, his voice eerily calm.

  Peprin motioned behind him, waving in two men, two very large men. One of them handed something to Peprin. In the filtered light, Minnie could not make out the object. Alex threw himself in front of her body as Peprin held a gli
nting pistol into the air fired a single shot.

  The shot rang in her ears as she was propelled backward, pinned to the headboard by Alex’s body. Warmth seeped over her skin as the noise faded to her own screams. “Alex? Alex?” His hand found hers and squeezed.

  “Chantal was right,” Peprin said. “You have made the choice of Evangeline over your life. You won’t have either now. Evangeline is ruined.”

  “Alex?” she whispered, finally gaining control over her hands, but she couldn’t tell who had been shot. “Alex!” she found the hole by his stomach and screamed, angry tears running down her face. “What have you done?” she yelled at Peprin. “What have you—Alex! Can you hear me?” She clamored over the bed, pulling the blood-soaked sheets around her.

  “Min.” His voice was weak. Dark blood streamed down his abdomen.

  Her hands pressed over his stomach. “Don’t move. It will be fine,” she lied. “Call a doctor,” she yelled, spinning to the others in the room.

  Peprin waved on the other two strangers. She was no obstacle. They shoved her off the bed onto the cold floor. They moved over Alex on the bed, their fists beating him until she heard the sickening echo of bone breaking.

  “Alex!”

  The low, menacing laugh of Peprin echoed in the room. “Let this be a lesson to you, Evangeline. You do as I say.”

  “Please,” she begged. Her feet wobbled beneath her. She almost drowned in her panic, feeling as if she had been thrown overboard in a storm far from land. Still, she kicked and struggled for the surface, laboring to breathe. “Please.” The warmth of Alex’s blood seeped through the sheets against her skin.

  They dragged Alex off the bed. She rushed after him, trying to step around Peprin as he blocked her escape. In the light of the hallway, Alex’s head lolled to the side, bruised and bloody. He was bleeding a small river from his stomach.

  “Please!” she screamed, the tears choking her.

  “Darling.” His eyes were sapphire slits, but they still spoke to her soul and stopped her heart. “It will be fine,” he said, blood dripping from his mouth. “Have some faith.”

  They were going to throw him out in the street to bleed to death and it was her fault. “Alex,” she yelled again. She struggled to move forward, but Peprin pushed her back into the room.