Chapter 21

Upon hearing of his sister's surprise return, an abundance of emotions had overwhelmed Alex. Surprise had turned to anger and horror which had then given way to excitement. It had been almost two years since his last seeing her and finding that she had blossomed into a most beautiful young lady was certainly something to behold.

Even better was seeing her with his wife. Emmaline alone was an astounding woman but together the women lit up every room that they entered. Around them, Alex always had a smile. And he was more than a little relieved that from their very first meeting, the ladies got on as if they themselves were related.

That fact had eased his anxieties somewhat though with his sister back in London, Alex could never entirely settle, even when in his wife's bed.

Work became a lonely thing, leaving Sean behind most days in order to ensure that the women were safe and well-cared for, chaperoned wherever they might go. And to Alex's dismay, they made no attempts to stay out of the eyes of the public, taking walks or riding in the park, visiting the modiste or shopping in general, even taking tea in whichever tearoom took their fancy on any given day.

His sister insisted that it was more likely to attract attention were she to not go out in public, after being seen arriving on the London docks by several busy bodies, but he would have preferred she not. Yet, both she and his wife were too beautiful to be kept from the world. And with his relationship with his wife blossoming so peacefully, he could not bear to rock the boat.

And so, as she laid in his arms each night after their wondrous lovemaking, he kissed her head and prayed that all he had been forced to do over the years would not come back to haunt him.

Most nights, he laid awake long after she had fallen asleep, stroking her hair or caressing her back, listening to her breathing. And it was the only thing that managed to calm him. She was there. She was safe. That was all that mattered.

But, one night, he laid stiff as a board, feeling the dread closing in on him. And it must have been palpable within the room for Emmaline raised her head from his chest, her eyes blurry with sleep, and asked, "Is everything alright, husband?"

Husband, he still could not grow used to that. Yet, it caused him to smile nonetheless. With a deep sigh, he forced a nod. "Yes, go back to sleep," he whispered into the near darkness of the room.

But she did not go back to sleep. Instead, her hand slipped beneath the bed covers, stroking down his abdomen, playing with the small amount of hair there before she travelled lower. His breath caught in his throat when she took him in hand and started to stroke.

With gritted teeth, he gripped her wrist to stop her. "Go back to sleep."

But still, she did not. He was rock hard in her grip, and she squeezed gently until he was forced to release her hand, too desperate to resist her touch any longer.

"Emmaline, you truly are a little minx," he growled even as she clambered atop him, straddling him between her perfect milky thighs.

"Only for you, dear husband," she whispered against his lips as she leaned down to kiss him, guiding slick, wet folds down onto the tip of his manhood.

"I should think so," he growled through gritted teeth, loving the way her body opened up to him while remaining tight as the day he first took her.

She made love to him in such a way, moving her hips slowly back and forth and kissing the tension from his body, that for a while he forgot everything. For just a short time there was only her and all was well with the world.

He even managed to sleep a little with his wife rested upon his chest afterwards but the very next morning, the weight of the world returned to him in the form of a letter, one that he did not wish to share with anyone. But one that might well change the course of his life and the lives of everyone around him forever.

It was only three days after receiving said letter that Alex struggled to keep the cracks from showing. The strain within him was beginning to show upon his face, even he could see it past the horrendous scars he wore like a mask as he readied for the latest public engagement.

The annual ballroom bizarre hosted by the Earl and Countess of Tillington was not an event to be missed. Every businessman, gentleman and nobleman in the country would flock to see the extravaganza, using it to their benefit in order to secure further business for the coming year. And with the letter burning a hole in Alex's pocket, he knew it was not an event he could afford to miss.

Lucky for him, Tillington was a most eccentric character, and the ball was to be masked. For once, he was able to hide his hideous self not with the devil's mask but with a rather lovely teal and green peacock mask that Emmaline had gifted to him only days after receiving the invitation.

It was a plain and simple mask, but her own was far more elegant with peacock feather sticking out of the side, decorating her glossy hair in a way he could not keep his eyes off.

In fact, as he stood in the gardens of Tillington Place—where the main event was being held around an outdoor dancefloor with acrobats and a menage of wild animals all about—Alex's eyes remained pinned to his wife, for she was the most beautiful and astounding creature in her blue and green silks, her hips swaying in time with the music, lost in the magical atmosphere of the evening.

And though they were surrounded by the ton Alex could not keep his hands off her. Whether it was the strong alcohol being supplied or simply the fact she cast such a spell on him, he could not be sure, but he did not care a fig what anyone else thought of him.

Everyone seemed far too preoccupied themselves anyway. Theirs was not the only scandalous dance to be taking place. The masks made others brave also and several couples danced much too close, hands wandering into places they ought not to.

The half-naked acrobats hanging from their elevated silks on metal constructs all about the dancefloor did not help. Nor did the dark walk, a maze of secret gardens created by a most expert gardener, only a few meters away. Alex had done more than a few scandalous things in that maze in his youth and by heavens, he would have loved to do so with Emmaline.

But she was lost to the music, dancing so carefree. It was such a sight to behold that he could not drag her away from it. And close by, his sister, wearing a pale gold mask and the whitest of white gowns, reminding him of a swan, seemed much the same.

Alex would have liked to have kept her from the ball but how could he deny his sister any happiness? He had carted her off to France at the first chance he had gotten. It was past time she entered society at almost twenty-one. An age his wife could not believe when he had told her for his sister did look so small, beautiful and fragile. He feared what London might do to her.

His only relief was that Sean had not left her side all evening. And as Emmaline finally tired of dancing, he knew his sister would be safe in his best friend's care while he accompanied his wife inside for refreshments.

Having managed to speak little of business so far, he was anxious to do so. There was money to be made there that night, and yet, he felt unable to leave his wife's side.

There was a growing shadow at his back, one he could not quite glean the identity of yet, but he would be damned if he allowed it to swallow any one of his family.

As he took two glasses of punch from the refreshments table and handed one to Emmaline, she looked at him curiously from behind her mask. It was an innocent enough expression and yet, it made him want to do terrible, sinful things to her.

Even weeks after their marriage, weeks after the rumors of their swift elopement had died down, he still felt the same blood boiling need to be inside her at every moment that he was with her. It was almost as maddening as the growing threats surrounding him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he demanded, slipping close to place his hand at the small of her back. He always felt better whenever he was touching her.

"Something is wrong," Emmaline said.

Tensing, Alex guided her swiftly to the shadows at the edge of the room behind a large freestanding plant pot.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"You have been having far too much fun and not nearly enough business talk," Emmaline said, sipping her drink yet looking at him over the rim of her glass. "What is the matter?"

Alex cringed. She knew him all too well it seemed.

"I do not like crowds," Alex said, trying to come up with any excuse he could for his recent behavior.

"You are more masked than you have been in public," Emmaline said gently, leaning forward to add ever more quietly, "for a long time without your devil. And yet, you are still anxious. Something is the matter and I demand that you tell me."

Alex could not help himself. Some of the devil came out of him then. Gripping her forearm, he pulled her in close to the plant pot and pressed her back against it. Pinning her there with his body pressed against hers, he demanded, "Who are you to make demands of me, Lady Emmaline?"

Smiling sinfully behind her mask, she reached up with her free hand and slipped it beneath his, cupping the scarred side of his face in a way that made him cringe.

"I am your wife, Your Grace," she whispered seductively. "I am the only one able to make demands of you that you must abide."

If any man had heard such ridiculousness from the lips of their wife, mistress or even mother, they might have laughed in her face. But not Alex for he knew exactly what she was doing. She was baiting him. She needed him just as badly as he needed her. He could see it in the gleaming of her irises. They seemed to glow at him from the shadows, dancing with desire.

Right there in the true ballroom of the Tillington's house, Alex forced a kiss upon his wife's lips, his glass falling from his grip even as he grabbed at her skirts.

He might have taken her right there and then, propriety be damned, if it were not for the scent that evaded his nostrils.

"What is it?" Emmaline asked as he pulled away suddenly. The disappointment was clear in her voice, but Alex had to deny her.

His entire body stiffened as he gripped her hand and prepared immediately to flee. The stench of smoke reminded him all too well the disastrous things that fire could do.

And as he turned back to the ballroom, a scream erupted over the music.

"Fire!"

"Fire!"

"Everybody out!"

Fire!"

The calls came from every corner of the room and Alex watched as the heavy drapes hanging at the patio door they had come through moments before went up in flames, smoke billowing up to the vaulted ceiling, coming down like a thick, living cloud with its grabbing choking hands.

Alex froze. His eyes remained pinned to the flames, watching as the fire devoured the silk drapes as if they were little more than paper. It caught the wood paneling of the walls, melting away the paper as if it were made of water.

All around him was chaos. Yet for several seconds, he was still as a statue, unable to breathe or hear or even see anything that wasn't flame.

Then, a hand gripped his wrist and an angelic, yet panicked voice screamed at him, "Alex! We have to get out of here!"

And instinct took over. Just as he had once done with his child sister, Alex grabbed hold of Emmaline and swept her up into his arms.

"Alex! What are you doing?" she cried even as he sprinted for the nearest open door to the hallway. Escaping out into the gardens was impossible now. The entire wall was aflame, all three sets of doors caught in the blaze.

"Alex! Put me down!" Emmaline cried but he would not listen. He would have her to safety far quicker than if she were forced to run in such heavy skirts. Many other women were having horrendous problems, struggling to pick up their gowns in order to move their feet swiftly.

Alex did not pay any mind to them, or the men failing to help them in fear of their own lives. He barged out of the house and did not stop until he had made his way down the front steps, dropping Emmaline on her feet beside the fountain.

He was just about to rush back inside in order to see what he could do to help when a voice called, "Alex! There you are. Your Grace, there is something you need to see!"

Sean's familiar voice set Alex's teeth on edge. What could possibly be more important right now than the fact the Tillington's house was going up in flames and there were still people trapped inside, desperately clamoring over each other to get out?