He sat next to her, reaching the seat with a thump. He was close enough that his arm touched hers. The smell of old alcohol and tobacco was strong. Violet wrinkled her nose at it.
“It certainly is a dirty business. If the smell it leaves behind is any indicator.”
“Does it offend, My Lady?” Alexander asked, a trace of humor in his voice.
“It does. But there is little you can do about it, short of taking a bath.”
“I saw a stream running through this garden the first time I was here,” Alexander noted.
Violet turned her head to look at him, wondering if he was joking with her but his face was too much in shadow for her to tell. She decided to call his bluff.
“That would be a good start,” she said.
“Very well. Point me in the right direction,” Alexander said, lurching to his feet.
Violet laughed, catching hold of his hand, and pulling him back down beside her. She held onto his hand even while he was sitting. His fingers entwined with hers. The intimacy was thrilling, and at the same time, comforting. She felt safe with him holding her hand.
Is that because I instinctively trust him? Or because he makes me feel safe from anyone else. He is certainly strong. A physical presence that is undeniable.
“What are you doing here in the middle of the night? Throwing stones at my window and carrying on like a rogue,” Violet asked.
Alexander sighed. He ran a hand through his long hair.
“I’m sorry, lass. This is not…appropriate behavior. I just felt this overpowering need to be near you. Someone who is pure and innocent. Untainted. Everything and everyone else in this city is just that…tainted.”
“You feel cynical because of the lengths you’re having to go to for your Bill?” Violet asked.
“That’s one way of putting it. I’m sorry, lass. Away to yer bed. I’ll not trouble you again.”
He sounded despondent now. Tired and heartsick. Her own heart went out to him, forgetting the fact that he had come to her in the most ungodly hour.
And if we are discovered together, or seen by anyone who tells of it, it will produce a scandal that will be talked about for months. And will destroy my reputation in a heartbeat. Not to mention that of my family.
She knew that she should insist that he leave but could not ask him to do so. The urge to be near him was strong. The urge to look after him while he was in this somewhat helpless condition was even stronger.
“Nonsense. But, you could do with sobering up. And, we have already discussed a bath. You can find both in the servant’s quarters. I will brew some coffee and you will bathe in the servant’s washroom. Come along.”
She heard a chuckle as she rose and he moved to follow her. Then a curse and a thud. When she turned, she saw him rubbing his head where he had walked into the lintel of the doorframe, forgetting to stoop in order to step through.
“Take my hand or we will never make it,” she said with a giggle.
Again, he took her hand and together they walked through the night-time garden.
Chapter 18
Alexander was sobering rapidly as he followed Violet through the night-cloaked garden. The scent of her soap was strong in his nostrils, over the damp, green smell of earth and leaves. It was an intoxication all of its own and reminded him of how close her body was to his in the darkness. Her hands were small, her skin soft and smooth. They were perfect, free from the slightest blemish.
He knew that his own were marked by the hard work that had defined his life from childhood. Her fingers traced the old scars that covered his fingers as well as the backs of his hands.
“What are these?” she whispered.
“Sparks can scar when they land on the skin. If they are hot enough. Sometimes, when sweeping out a chimney, if the fire has not been properly doused beforehand, the brushes dislodge embers which fall. That is also the reason for the scars on my face.”
Violet’s breath caught audibly and she half turned to look at him in the darkness.
“That is simply awful,” she said, tears sounding in her voice.
“It is that,” Alexander admitted.
