“I won’t,” she said, hating how her voice sounded strained and thin. “I’m just trying to find the right rosette.” She slid her hands along the elaborately carved garlands at the base of the desk, making a show of fumbling her hands along the woodwork. “It’s back here somewhere,” she muttered bending to one side and placing a hand on the desk.
Lamartine peered around to see where Alix was looking as her hand connected with the marble inkstand. Grasping the cool, heavy stone, she swung around and slammed it hard against his head.
There was a sickening crack, a splatter, and the sound of glass shattering. Bottles and quills rolled across the floor. An outraged cry escaped from Lamartine. Alix swung again, this time with all the force and rage she could muster. Lamartine went down. She stood over him, her breath coming fast, waiting to see if he would move, trying to find the voice to scream. She stared at his prostrate body, saw his chest rise and fall in the moonlight, but his limbs were mercifullystill.
Alix whirled around, the marble tray still clutched in her hand, as she heard the sound of footsteps crossing the sitting room.
In the flickering candlelight saw the familiar tawny hair and tall frame of Rafe Harcrest. The tray slid from her grasp as she ran across the room. She hurled herself against his chest, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, and clung to him, her body shaking with tremors of delayed fear.
“Hush, sweetheart,” she heard him chuckle against her hair, as his arms solidly enfolded her. “I hoped you’d be pleased to see me, but I never thought your greeting would be so enthusiastic.” He gently tilted her head back to kiss her, then froze as he caught sight of the bruise swelling on her cheek and the smears of blood on her neck. An unintelligible oath escaped him. He caught her face in his hands. “God in heaven Alix, what’s happened to you?”
Shivering, Alix turned and pointing wordlessly to the bedroom and the crumpled form by the desk.
Twenty-Five
“Lamartine?” Rafe asked.
Alix nodded.
He knelt by the body; his fingers pressed against the Frenchman’s neck. He was relieved to feel a slow but steady pulse. Moving quickly about the room, Rafe lit several candles, then pulled the cord from the window curtains. Looping it around Lamartine’s neck, he tied the man’s hands and then his feet.
“There,” he said rising as he finished, “that should take care of Monsieur Lamartine, at least for the present. If he regains consciousness and tries to move, he’ll find the rope around his throat a major inconvenience. Now,” he continued, casting his eyes around the room for the washbasin and towels, “let’s see about fixing you up.”
Rafe settled next to Alix on the bed and began gently dabbing at the blood on her neck. “It looks a mess,” he said more to himself than to her. “But underneath it all there’s not much more than a scratch.” He brushed her swollen cheek. “But you’re going to have quite the shiner there.Major Harris and Lord Minton may have to do without your company for a week or so.” His tone grew serious as he looked her over. “Are you hurt anywhere else, love?’
Alix shook her head. Rafe brushed her hair back from her face. “I want to know everything that happened here, but first I think we’d better decide what to do about your unwanted visitor.”
Alix nodded slowly. “If I call for a footman and they send for the authorities, what will happen?’
Rafe considered. “They’ll take him to Old Bailey where he’ll rest uncomfortably for a few months until his trial and then in all likelihood he’ll hang for attempted murder.”
“The broadsheets will cover it, won’t they? It’ll be quite a scandal.”
“There’ll be a great deal of noise about it, no doubt, but I’ll be there for you and there’s no one who’ll blame you.”
Alix’s eyes were cloudy and her fingers played at the painful line across her throat. “He said he arranged to have my father killed. He seemed so proud of himself. I can just see him boasting about it at a trial.” She shuddered. “I don’t care about the scandal, but I couldn’t bear that, couldn’t bear to keep reliving the nightmare of Valcour, and this night over and over till he’s dead.” Her eyes cleared and she looked up at Rafe, her expression suddenly fierce. “I hear London is a dangerous city. Couldn’t you take him somewhere and dump him?’
Rafe took her hands, they were unnaturally cold, and he worried that she might be slipping into shock. He began to rub them between his own large, warm ones. “I won’t just dump him, Alix. I want to know that when we are rid of him there will be no chance of him returning to harm you or anyone else in your family.” He had an idea, but he knew she would oppose it; still, if she trusted him, he felt certain it would work.
“Alix,” he began carefully. “I want to give Lamartine the titles and send him back to France.”
She pulled her hands free of his and stared at him aghast “You what? You want me togivehim the titles? And send him back to claim my lands? Are you mad?”
“Alix, listen to me,” Rafe said urgently, “if we send him back with the titles and the letter from your father, I can promise you he will be denounced as soon as he sets foot in France.”
She leapt off the bed glaring at him. “I think not!”
“Alix,” Rafe tried to interject “I have certain connections. I can make sure that Lamartine will never walk free and that the titles...”
She turned on him, incredulity rampant in her face and in her voice. “You would have me surrender the last scrap of my heritage, the last bit of who I am, to this... animal, this filth!”
“You don’t understand, let me explain?—“
“No,” she said coldly, “youdon’t understand.”
“I do understand, Alix,” he said sharply. He was overwhelmed by the sight of her, her hair streaming, her face bruised, the angry red line across her throat. He’d come so close to losing her. Lamartine might havekilledher. She’d risked her life for titles that in a month’s time would be worthless. Even now, with Alix and her mother in England, the titles were already as good as worthless.
“I understand that you are determined to have your way, no matter what the costs, no matter what the consequences. You might have been safe with me, living in my home, surrounded by my servants, but you chose instead to stay with a stranger.” The words tumbled out, gaining speed as his pent up anxiety, frustration, and anger over their separation spilled over. “You flirtwith Major Harris, Lord Minton, Lord knows who else... You wander about Vauxhall at night unattended?—”
