Page 25 of His Scandal
“Your brother?” Blythe prodded.
“Yes, my brother Spencer became the viscount after our father died.”
Blythe gave the smallest frown, as if she expected more. “And…?”
Emmeline wanted to poke her sister, but that would have been too obvious. Instead she bit her lip and watched Alex from beneath her brows.
“And?” he echoed softly.
“Are you not twins?”
“Yes.” He leaned forward, piercing Blythe with his gaze.
Emmeline held her breath, fascinated despite herself. Why was he so upset, but trying not to show it?
“Identical twins?”
“Yes.”
Emmeline almost gaped as she imagined another man looking exactly like him. She couldn’t summon indignation when Blythe merrily continued her inquisition.
“How fascinating, Alex! Are you so alike that you were able to fool people when you were younger?”
Now his smile had the slightest twinge of bitterness. “Yes.”
He stood up, towering over the sisters. “Lady Blythe, surely I am a dull conversation piece compared to yourself.”
And without Blythe even knowing she’d been manipulated, Alex started to ask questions about her interests.
But Emmeline was more curious than ever, and she could not help narrowing her eyes as she watched him.
At the sound of creaking wood, Alex came abruptly awake. He lay in his bed above the tavern, knowing it was the middle of the night by the absolute silence below. He wiped a hand over hisface, feeling dull-witted from an evening spent drinking and gambling. Still, there was an edge of tension, something that felt wrong.
Just when he turned to see if the fire had gone out, he heard a rustle of garments. He quickly came up on his elbows, then immediately rolled off the bed onto the floor. By the dim firelight, he saw that two men were attacking him. They tried to grab for his arms, and Alex punched one in the face, then reached for his sword, propped next to the bed. With a triumphant yell, he scrambled to his feet and faced them with his blade, only to find the door wide open and his assailants gone.
He ran into the torchlit corridor and down the stairs into the taproom, but they’d had too much of a lead. He lowered his sword, then closed the outer door. He heard a stirring behind him, and whirled with his blade aloft, but it was only Viv, the tavern maid, lifting her head from her pallet before the hearth.
She gave him a dreamy smile and pushed herself to a sitting position. “Milord, I knew ye’d change yer mind. And ye don’t need a sword to make me come with ye.”
As he lowered his weapon, he suddenly realized why she had gotten the wrong idea. In his haste, he’d neglected to don his clothing.
He grinned at her. “Sorry, Viv, but I’m not needing companionship this night.”
She looked down his body in puzzlement, then shrugged and burrowed back under her blanket.
Alex ducked into Edmund’s chamber, but his bed hadn’t been slept in. He must have found his own companionship for the night.
Alex knew he couldn’t sleep now, so he went back to his room to dress. He wondered if these were the same two men who’d attacked him a fortnight before. He hadn’t seen their faces clearly, but he’d wager that it had been them. As he buttoned up his doublet, he glanced to the table beside his bed, then cursed.
His pouch of coins was gone.
Alex searched the floor, beneath the bed, even in his trunk. The small stash of sovereigns he kept hidden was still there, but growing ever smaller. He’d patronized almost every moneylender in London, and his credit was fast running out. Soon it would mean a journey to his Cumberland estate for more money, something he’d been avoiding. The trip was long, arduous, and boring. The last couple weeks, life had become more interesting because of the Prescott sisters—and not just Blythe alone. He would have to make do for a while on the money he had left.
And he would somehow have to find out why these men were his enemies. Summoning a justice of the peace would be useless, because there were no witnesses, and the thieves had already fled.
But they’d be back, and he would be ready for them.
Two days passed as Alex concentrated on finding his enemies. He looked over his shoulder constantly, and found himself awakening at the sound of every rat scurrying behind the walls.
