Light to Valhalla (44 page)

From across the way General Witherspoon caught his eye, sneered, and then deliberately showed his back
.
The cut direct
.
Bastard
.

Alex glared at the man’s balding head, resisting the urge to march across the room and call the bastard out
.
He may have done it too if another gentleman garbed in charcoal gray hadn’t jumped to his feet and scrambled for the door
.
With lightening reflexes Alex stepped back and caught the man beneath the arm
.
“Good evening, Lord
Mancroft
.”

“
Coverstone
.
”
The earl ground to a halt
.

“Perhaps we could have a word outside.”

Mancroft
flicked a gaze upward, and Alex was absurdly disappointed to see the man had brown eyes
.
“I have nothing to say on the subject you wish to discuss
.
If you’ll excuse me I must be on my way.”

Alex tightened his iron grip until
Mancroft
winced
.
“Not so fast
.
Where is Bernadette?”

“Dead by all accounts.
”
The earl tugged and writhed against Alex’s hold
.
“Release me.”

“Not until
yo
—”

“Is everything alright, Lord
Mancroft
?
”
General Witherspoon approached the men with dangerous intent.

Alex met him with a level gaze
.
“This is none of your con
cern, sir
.
I’ll ask you to stand aside.”

At that moment
Mancroft
wiggled free of Alex’s grasp and bolted through the door
.

Ignoring the general, Alex dashed after
Mancroft
only to have Witherspoon intercept him bodily
.

“Unhand me,” Alex barked, hurling the older man aside
.

Freed, Alex weaved
through the tables
and chairs,
nearly toppling the doorman taking the coat of yet another gentleman venturing in from the cold
.
Alex slipped through the door only to find
Mancroft
had disappeared into the snowy night
.

“Damn,” he swore under his breath, pumping a fist into the night
.
By all appearances Alex had fallen onto an unprecedented streak of mise
rable luck
.
His mind whirled around the inevitable question… was this b
ad luck or something more sinister?  Everything had happened at once, one powerful hit after the next as though an orchestrator sat above the st
age tugging at puppet strings.

Rumors…  Accusations…  Jack…

Events of the last few weeks swished and swirled through his head like the snowflakes whipping on the wind
.

“Heard about your bastard,” a familiar voice sounded from behind.

“Not now, Witherspoon
,” Alex
growled
warily
, turning to face the general
.

“Then when
?
”
The man more than likely responsible for his ruin ambled a half circle around Alex
, putting a
lit
cheroot in his mouth
.
“I’ve been waiting to get you alone since returning to London.”

Alex rolled his head on his shoulders
.
“
What do you want, sir? 
To kill me?
 
Fine.
”
He spread his arms wide
.
“Shoot me
.
Even the score.
”
At this moment he’d welcome death
.
To hell with second chances
.
Doing the right thing caused nothing but pain and heartache.

“I don’t want to shoot you,” Witherspoon snarled
.
“I want you to suffer as I’
ve suffered
.
A
s my wife has suffered
.
I want you to know the pain I experienced when you sent my son to his death.”

A cold chill swept down Alex’s spine
.
“I didn’t kill your son
, sir
.
He disobeyed my direct orders and got himself killed.”

“A likely story.
”
Witherspoon rolled the cheroot with his tongue
.
“Make this easy on yourself and confess,
Coverstone
.
No need for things to get… ugly.”

Pure red flashed through Alex’s vision
.
“
Leave my wife alone y
ou son of a bitch.
”
He lunged at the other man
.
“
I
am not responsible for your son’s death but I
’ll
sure as hell
murder you.”

*
             
*
             
*

A
loud
clunk
jarred Charley from the dregs of fitful sleep
.
She blinked against the darkness, tuning her ears to the shuffle of feet outside the door
.
Disoriented it took her a moment to remember reading in the library after tucking Jack into bed
.
She must have dozed off
.
A
cross the hall feet shuffled a
nd hinges groaned
.
Alex? 
Foolishly
her heart leapt
.
She stuffed it back down, a fresh wave of pain
flaying the last of
her nerves
.
She
scooted out of
the oversize chair,
crept to the door
and peered around the corner.

Alex trudged
across the white marble floor
into
the study across the hall, s
houlder
s slumped and
his
bad leg all but dragging with each step
.
A
flicker of empathy
softened her rage for half a heartbeat
.
Without closing the door he moved into the study, dropping his brown jacket right onto the floor and discarding his cravat and waist coat not far behind
.
He stopped before the cabinet he’d broken his first d
ay back home
.
I
t seemed an eternity…
an entire lifetime
had passed
.

Alex stepped to the side of the cabinet, away from the door and ran his hands along the back and si
de
.
A vision of splintering wood the day he arrived home swept through her mind
.

Puzzled,
she left the parlor and tiptoed silently across the hall
, peering covertly through the half opened door
.
Alex
staggered back a step, flailing one arm out as though for balance
.
She snatched back to prevent being spotted, but not before she caught a good glimpse of his face
.
Dark unruly curls lay
in
sweaty
clumps
across his forehead
and more than a dusting of whiskers coated his jaw—which really was something because truthfully she could not remember the last time she’d seen him unshaven—d
eep black circles marked the underside of his eyes, and
th
e lines around his mouth
cut deep
into his face
.
In sho
rt, h
e looked like hell
.

He shook the cabinet
.
“Open
damn it
.
I know you’re in there.”

What was it with that cabinet? 
A secret compartment perhaps?
  An intriguing thought…
Charley’s nose tickled
.
She rubbed it to keep the urge to sneeze at bay
.
The tickle ebbed and—

“
Aaachhooo
!
”
Without warning the sneeze erupted from her
.

Alex swiveled his head, blinked, and waved a sloppy arm in her direction
.
“Who
’
s there?”

She cringed back away from the door
,
out of his line of site
.

“Charley
?” his tone was
wistful
.
The uneven tread of his boots trod across the carpeted floor
.
“I’m sorry, love
.
So sorry.”

Resigned s
he sighed
.
Best just to face him now, she’d never run to the stairs in time and then he’d know she’d
fled
from him
.
Believe her a coward
.
On knees of half melted butter
she stepped into the doorway.”

Alex’s eyes widened, obviously
surprised to see her
.
“You’re still awake.
”
The mantle clock
showed the hour past midnight.

“You’re drunk,
”
she stated darkly
, keeping herself
safe
ly outside the room
,
the doorjamb served as both
a
physical and mental barrier from Alex’
s overwhelming presence
.
If she ventured to
o
close no doubt her wall of courage would crumble and she
’d
fall sobbing into his arms.

He waggled a finger in her direction
.
“Nothing escapes you, love
.
Nothing at all.
”
He staggered toward her into the glow of the light from the hall
.

Instinctively she stepped back, needing distance to protect herself, but stopped short
.
“Heav
ens, Alex, you’re bleeding!
”
Soft yellow light illuminated the
huge gash spli
t
t
ing his left eyebrow
.

He reached up to touch the wound and grimaced
.
“
Oh, yes, that
.
H
ad a bit of a run in with General Witherspoon.”

A bit of a run in?
 
Blood trickled down his cheek and around his eye
.
Charley
released a disparaging
sigh and rolled her eyes to the ceiling
.
This only
gets
better and better
.
“Sit,” she commanded, crossing her protective threshold
.
She crossed the study to a porcelain water pitcher and basin.

Alex stumble
d backward and fell into a wing-
backed chair
.
“T
hank Christ
Sidney
showed up when he did
.
Pulled me off that sum bitch
b’fore
I beat the bloody piss
ou
’ of him.
”

“
Sidney
loves you
very much
.”

“No.
”
Alex shook his head, looking up to her with broken eyes
.
“He loves you.”

Uncomfortable,
she cleared her throat and
carried the bowl to Alex
, sett
ing it on an oak side table
.
“That is nothing but foolishness and rot.”

“Is it?
”
He fixed her with a surpr
isingly sober stare
, longing shown deep in his eyes
.

Charley opened her mouth to respond, but no words came
.
Finally at a loss she dripped the white linen cloth into the water and
dabbed away the blood
marring her husband’
s drawn
face
.
The sheer force of being near him unsettled her to the very core, she
hated to see him hurting or wounded in any way
.
S
teeling her nerves
against the softening of emotion undoubtedly on her horizon,
f
irst she washed his cheek, and then around his eye, slowly working her way to the gash
.
It was not as big as it seemed at first glance though a physician may need to be summoned to place a stitch or two
.