“Surely you’re not going to leave me alone to listen to Charlotte’s ramblings?”
“Ramblings! I’ve been told I have just the right tone to recite poetry,” Miss Sutherby said. “But perhaps we should all retire. There’ll be plenty of time for conversation tomorrow. Indeed, we could take Evelyn riding and pack a picnic. You do ride, Miss Bromwell?”
“I do. Although —”
“Excellent. Do you hear that, Nicholas? We shall all ride out together tomorrow.”
When Miss Bromwell left the room, Alexander expected the Sutherbys to follow, but they hung back. They’d moved from the window, and so he strained to listen to the rest of their conversation.
“Must I do everything for you?” Miss Sutherby snapped. “Thanks to my intervention, you will have a few hours alone with Miss Bromwell. I shall feign a twisted ankle, making it impossible for me to accompany you on your picnic. It should be plenty of time to secure her hand.”
“What if she refuses?”
“Then you must persuade her. It’s not as though she’s had a better offer. And you are deliciously handsome.”
“You’re biased. Perhaps the earl has shown an interest in her. You saw the way she looked at him. They’ve obviously met before as she was far too comfortable in his presence. She didn’t even flinch at his rudeness.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Miss Bromwell is a darling, and the Earl of Hale is an ogre. The two do not go together.”
Alexander could not disagree with her statement. Although he was vastly more terrifying than she could ever imagine.
“Come, let’s go to bed,” Miss Sutherby continued. “There’s a lot to do tomorrow and a good night’s sleep will do wonders.”
They left the room, and Alexander slid down the wall into a sitting position while he contemplated what he’d heard.
Mr. Sutherby appeared a little more than desperate to press his suit. And his sister was prepared to do her utmost to help. For some inexplicable reason, Alexander felt a frisson of pleasure at the thought of Miss Bromwell’s reluctance to hear his declaration.
Something about the whole situation bothered him. Frustrated that he’d not managed to pick up the same conflicting feelings he’d experienced earlier in the day, he brushed his hands through his hair and looked up at the moon.
At night, he felt normal.
At night, he was no different from other men.
He was drawn to the moonlight like others were drawn to the sun. It relaxed him. It made the world come alive. The daylight had been taken from him, whipped from under his feet with one sinister bite and he’d been left to roam a world of darkness, lost to the night for all eternity.
Feeling a sudden need to return to the sanctuary of his home, he stood and made to depart. The shadow of a figure moving across the lawn at great speed rendered him frozen to the spot. The strides were purposeful, quick, determined. The woman, for she was too petite to be a man, knew where she was going.
It was Evelyn Bromwell.
He knew it like he knew his own name.
Where the hell was she going wearing nothing but a flimsy dress, and so late at night? Was she on her way to meet a beau for a midnight rendezvous? Was that the real reason for avoiding a conversation with Mr. Sutherby?
Hiking up the hem of her skirt, she climbed the stile, glancing once over her shoulder but failing to see him cloaked in the shadows. Curiosity burning in his belly, he made
a stealth-like pursuit to avoid detection, cowering behind bushes and darting behind a tree trunk.
When she reached the river, she stopped and scanned her surroundings before placing her hands on her hips as she looked up to the heavens. The moon appeared larger, brighter, its reflection slithering over the surface of the water. It called out to him, and he resisted the urge to reveal himself, to strip naked and plunge into the icy depths.
Under the light of the moon, he felt free; he felt like he belonged.
In an uncharacteristic moment of madness, Miss Bromwell suddenly stretched out her arms and twirled round and round, her loose chestnut hair billowing out until dizziness caused her to stumble.
Alexander moved to step forward, the desire to join her in her frolicking suppressed by the need to offer assistance. But Miss Bromwell just giggled, giving him a moment to think of a logical reason to explain his presence.
However, all logical thought escaped him when Miss Bromwell began fumbling with the buttons on her dress.
In the stillness of the night, he could feel the blood pumping through his veins; he could hear it ringing in his ears. Excitement, anticipation was something he had not experienced for such a long time — even in his human form he’d been cold and detached. Now the feeling swamped him, forced him to watch though he knew it was wrong.