Alexander had approached the alleyway from Bedford Square, walking casually until he reached the entrance to the alleyway, then slipping quietly into its shadows. Once hidden by the darkness, he ran to the point he had marked for himself with a piece of chalk earlier in the day. That was the point in the wall that faced the Ravendel’s house. He recognized one of the trees that was visible on the other side of the wall, standing taller than the rest.
That tree was one of those that overhung the wooden hut that was his objective. He slipped off his boots and stockings again, and began to climb the wall. It wasn’t difficult, the mortar between bricks had begun to crumble in several places, allowing for easier hand and toeholds. For someone as experienced in housebreaking as Alexander had been in his youth, it was simplicity itself to scale.
Once atop the wall, he lay flat and peered over the edge. Reaching cautiously, he found a path down the far side of the wall, leaping the last few feet to the soft ground below. For a moment he crouched amid the bushes, waiting to see if any sound from his scaling of the wall had reached the house or anyone in the garden. There was no sound and so he began to make his stealthy way in the direction of the hut.
She probably calls it a lodge or a gazebo. It is a hut though. Little more than a shed.
A light reached him from between the intermeshed branches of trees and shrubs that formed dense growth at the end of the garden. Moving branches aside he saw that the light came from the structure he sought, leaking from between cracks in the boards making it up. He moved closer and was then stopped by a voice.
“I am armed. So, whoever you are, I would not approach any closer or I will scream and bring down all the servants in the house on you.”
It was Violet’s voice. She appeared from inside the hut, peering around a corner into the darkness beyond. Alexander stood, feeling foolish.
“There is no need for that, Lady Violet. It is Alexander Fitzgrant.”
He took a cautious step forward, holding his arms out to his sides to show he carried nothing that could be construed as a weapon. Violet shrank back, raising a hand warningly.
“Your Grace! What on earth are you doing in our garden, sneaking about. Or, not sneaking actually. You were making enough noise for an elephant!”
A burglar but not a woodsman it seems.
“I apologize, Lady Violet. I needed to speak with you very urgently and you have been ignoring my letters.”
“Does that not tell you something, Your Grace?” Violet said.
Alexander had moved to the front of the hut and stood within the light of the lamp that Violet had within. He saw her book open beside it.
“It tells me you have misjudged me. But if I was motivated by purely selfish means, I would not go so far as to scale your wall. But I am not, I am…I have a crusade you might say. I wish to help those less fortunate than myself. And you, into the bargain.”
Violet had stepped back into the hut and Alexander realized that he now blocked her exit from the structure. He did not advance further but casually sat down on the ground to show that he was no threat. She stepped forward nervously, looking past him, clearly gauging whether she would be able to run past him.
“Why are you sitting on the ground?” she asked.
“To show ye how bloody harmless I am, lass!” Alexander said in exasperation. “Do ye wannae know how I can help ye, or no?”
In his frustration, his Scots dialect came through broadly and he clamped his teeth shut, remembering other reactions to it.
“How?” Violet asked curiously.
“I can help you find out who your father is. I employ the best solicitor in London and have the resources to find out, no matter how long it takes,” Alexander said simply.
Those beautiful lips pursed for a moment and her head tilted. She looked hard at him, eyes boring into his.
By God but I could sit here all night and look back into those eyes. I could happily take root in this spot if she came to look at me just once a day.
Violet went back into the hut and took a seat.
“Very well,” she said. “Join me and tell me what you would have me do.”
Chapter 9
Violet fought to control her breathing as Alexander stood and came into the lodge. She was suddenly very aware of the limited space inside, made even smaller by his physical presence. He wore a cologne that she had not smelled before, it was musky and very male. Before she knew what she was doing, she had taken a deep breath. Immediately, she flushed bright red, embarrassed at the thrill of pleasure that ran through her.
If he knew what he had made me feel by his presence alone, I would be mortified.
Except that was her common sense talking. Deep down she felt an echoing thrill to the visceral pleasure she had just experienced. That echo came from the thought that Alexander knew the effect he had on her. He was looking at her, now that he was seated, the book between them on the table. Those eyes were fathomless and seemed to strip aside the layers of protection that screened her inmost desires.
Like being undressed. Stop it! This is foolishness!
