Chapter 4 #2
Sylvia nodded. She turned to the ballroom floor and caught sight of Alice dancing with Deimos, and all the darkness that had surrounded her under Lady Minerva’s stormy clouds, cruelty, and bitterness began to wash away. Because Alice Mitchell was a wonderful girl.
Alice Mitchell belonged with the Briarwoods, because she understood it was the purpose of every human being to come to this earth and grow and learn and be more.
And Deimos? Deimos was going to learn from her. He had been going steadily, that boy, a good boy, a strong boy. A man, of course, though in Sylvia’s eyes, all of her grandchildren were still children. But Alice was going to be the making of him.
Sylvia had no doubt, and she was not going to let anyone stand in their way. Whatever hardship came, whatever tactic Lady Minerva used, she would make sure that Alice and her grandson would not be destroyed by it.
Deimos stumbled out onto the stone terrace overlooking the garden and sucked in the night air, feeling quite ill at ease.
There was a slight chill in the air. An English spring wasn’t warm. But soon… Surely soon, warmth would come.
He gazed up to the sky. Clouds covered the moon and he let his gaze drop back to the dark garden and the maze in the distance. He felt as if he was lost in a maze at present and wasn’t sure if he’d find his way out.
What Alice had asked him to do was not particularly shocking. It wasn’t particularly scandalous. She hadn’t asked him to take her to a masquerade where the most scandalous lords and ladies of the ton did the most scandalous sort of things, thank God.
She’d merely asked him to take her about and expand what she knew of the world. He could do that without causing any sort of difficulty, couldn’t he?
Of course he could.
He’d pick her up tomorrow morning in his curricle, and he would endeavor to discover the best places to take her.
Despite his unease, he felt honored. She’d picked him. But what if it was wrong? What if she felt worse after all this? Because of him. He couldn’t bear that.
He loved the idea of making it possible for her to choose more than just being a married lady to a man who barely noticed she was alive.
But he couldn’t stop his shaking hands as he gripped the stone balustrade lining the terrace.
Because when he had held her in his arms, oh, he had wanted to do more than merely expand her horizons.
He’d wanted to seize her in his embrace. He’d wanted to tilt her back. He’d wanted to kiss her. He’d wanted, oh dear God in heaven, he’d wanted…
He wanted to expand her horizons in his bed, showing her just how adored she could be.
Because from the moment he had seen Alice Mitchell, something had seemed to whisper to life deep within him, growing into a roar, that she was his path, that he’d been put into her life for a reason.
And then he’d been proven mistaken when she had not taken him up on his rushed marriage proposal. But now, here—well, it seemed…
He swallowed.
“You all right, puppy?” his Uncle Ajax called as he strode forward through the dark.
His Uncle Ajax was a massive fellow, his blond hair now laced with silver. He crossed over with two brandy snifters in his hands. He offered one, the movement straining his perfectly cut evening coat.
“Did you know I’d need it?” Deimos asked.
Ajax grinned as if he loved every bit of his turmoil. “Well, I saw your encounter with Miss Mitchell, and I did wonder if things were suddenly spiraling out of your control.”
“I don’t think I have ever been in control regarding her.”
“Perhaps not, but you were going to make her life perfectly pleasant in every way by marrying her and ensuring that no one could hurt her, weren’t you?”
He frowned. “Is that such a very bad thing?”
“Not at all,” Ajax assured, before he swirled the brandy in his snifter. “It is the best of things. It is the specialty of Briarwood gentlemen. But it seems to me that she has something different in mind. Is that true?”
He closed his eyes. “If I were to describe it in short? She wants me to take her on a series of adventures.”
“Splendid,” Ajax declared as he clapped him firmly on the back.
His eyes snapped open, and he narrowly avoided brandy sloshing out of his snifter. He took a drink of the burning, rich liquor touched by cherries and oak.
Ajax eyed him as he stood beside him. “You know, that’s how my wife and I fell in love? She asked me to take her on adventure. I can tell you, my boy, there is no better thing than a lady who knows that she wants to have a bit of excitement in her life and chooses you to show it to her.”
Deimos sucked in a breath. “Is that true?” he asked. “It doesn’t feel like that.”
Ajax laughed softly. “Life seldom feels the way we think it should. Often when you’re on the precipice of great joy, it actually feels as if the entire world is crumbling around you. The greater the dismay and sorrow old boy,” Ajax said, “the greater the joy after.”
Deimos blinked. “Is that really true?” he said, clutching his snifter so tightly the pattern pressed into his palm.
“I don’t know if it’s always true,” Ajax admitted. “But it’s always proved thus for me and for most of the members of our family. So I say, throw yourself in, old boy, and let the chips fall where they may. Do whatever she asks.”
“But what if…?” he whispered before his throat tightened and a wave of apprehension crashed over him.
“What if?” Ajax prompted.
“What if it hurts her?” he rushed, his own fears undeniable. “What if the ton turns on her? She’ll regret it. She’ll regret me. Surely, I should get her to marry me immediately, and then there will be no chance of any pain.”
Ajax tilted his head back and let out a rich, booming laugh.
“Why are you laughing?” Deimos demanded through gritted teeth. “I bloody well just bore my fear to you and you’ve laughed.”
Ajax sighed. “Forgive me, puppy. But, oh, how I love the young,” he said.
Deimos scowled. “That is an extremely rude thing to say, and I am not that young.”
“You’re certainly not a child. That’s true.
But once you reach a certain age, I think you have to achieve at least forty years,” Ajax said with all seriousness, “then you begin to understand the waxing and waning of life, the nature of pain and suffering and joy. And you see things in an entirely new way. There’s no point in me really explaining it to you, Deimos.
You have to experience it. So go experience it,” he urged.
“And don’t try to control her or protect her from herself.
Or you. If you do, you’ll be the one who regrets it. ”
Deimos took those words in and felt himself expanding too, considering that life had more ahead of him than he knew how to handle. “I thought you and the rest of the family didn’t believe in regrets.”
Ajax smiled. “Most of the time, we don’t, but for whatever reason, you do.”
Deimos bit his lip. It was true. Seemingly, he alone in all his family appeared to understand the concept better than others.
He wasn’t entirely certain why. Maybe it was because his father, Hector, had his Shakespeare school in the East End, and Deimos had seen the results of bad choices, unfair outcomes, and injustice.
He’d seen how the world could turn, how the Fates could crash in upon one, and how a life could be turned into misery with one small decision. The poor faced brutal regret every day.
And he desperately did not wish that for Alice. But Ajax was right, and so was Alice.
If anyone was going to help her, it should be him.
And by God, he would do whatever she needed.