“Told you,” Devlin said, flashing the face of his watch at Alexander. “The hand hasn’t even moved.”
The room fell silent and Elliot stepped out from behind the tree, his face plastered with an arrogant grin as he pulled at the sleeves of his coat and brushed his hand down the front of his breeches.
“Satisfied?” Devlin asked.
“For the moment.”
The lady appeared from the foliage, her hair mussed and bedraggled, as though a family of birds had made it their home for the spring. Her lips were red and swollen; her eyes were still glazed with desire.
“You promise to say no more about it?” she said wiping the corners of her mouth with the tip of her finger.
Elliot nodded. “Indeed.”
“And your friends?”
“Consider them mute.”
“Perhaps we may stumble on each other again, Lord Markham.”
“Perhaps.”
“Perhaps not,” Devlin joked as the lady closed the door to the orangery and left them alone. “He never touches the same woman twice. It’s become a rule of his, and he’s quickly running out of options.”
“Ah, but I didn’t do the touching,” Elliot said. He focused his attention on Alexander. “Forgive the interruption. But a starving man never refuses the offer of bread.”
Devlin made a puffing sound. “Starving? You have the appetite of an entire pack of wolves. You could have bargained a little harder. You could have thought of your poor friend. I feel as though I’ve not eaten for weeks.”
“It’s been a day, Leo. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to leave Lord Hale out.”
Devlin threw his hands in the air. “You forget about Eve. A man doesn’t call out in such a mournful way only to fill another woman’s mouth an hour later.” He jumped up, cupped his hands over his heart and cried, “Eve. Eve. Where are you?”
“Shut the hell up,” Alexander roared, his fists clenched at his sides ready to pummel the smirk off his face. He’d been so busy listening to their comical banter he’d forgotten the reason he’d stalked after them. “Damn you, there’s no way you could have heard me.”
“He’s so angry,” Devlin said with a chuckle. “Who is this Eve anyway?”
“Her name’s Evelyn Bromwell,” Elliot said. “I asked around when I saw them dancing together.”
Alexander could not control the rush of pure rage. He flew at Elliot Markham and grabbed him by the throat. “Leave her the hell alone.”
Elliot wrapped his hand around Alexander’s and with equal strength pulled it away. “You have nothing to fear. I would never betray a brother by hurting someone he cared for.”
“A brother?” Alexander spat. “You’ve mistaken me for someone else. So you can stop bloody well following me around and prying into my affairs. I won’t tell you again.”
The need to find Miss Bromwell and check that all was well overpowered all other thoughts and Alexander turned and strode towards the door. Besides, he had heard enough from these two degenerates.
“Better run home before sunrise,” Devlin shouted. “Better not bite anyone on the way out.”
Alexander froze. An icy chill seeped into his veins. They knew his secret, and if he didn’t silence them, his nightmare would soon become a reality.
He turned on his heels and marched back towards them.
Elliot held his hands up as a sign of surrender. “Wait. Show him, Leo. Show him why he’s our brother.”
Devlin stepped forward, shrugged out of his coat and waistcoat and threw them onto the bench. Yanking his shirt out of his breeches, he pulled it up to reveal the mark on his chest.
Alexander sucked in a breath. The mark: a cross inside a circle of thorny twine was identical to the one seared into his chest. It didn’t make any sense. That night in Bavaria, he’d woken from the torturous dream to find his body branded with the unusual drawing. He’d not felt the iron burn his skin, nor did he know if the golden devil was responsible.
“I