Page 101 of A Relentless Rake

God knew Clayton was.

The regent finally found his composure and straightened his spine as much as his bloated, gout-ridden body allowed. “What can I do to thank you?”

Clayton leaned back against the gold brocade squabs, appreciating a few last moments of relaxation before all hell broke loose. “The grateful thanks of Crown and country are enough.”

The regent began to smile. “Well, if that is—”

Clayton stretched out his long legs to make himself at home and grinned. “But I’ve always wanted to be a general.”

Twenty-Seven

Olivia gazed out the window of the St James carriage at what was left of the school and her home. Charred beams and blackened chunks of wood filled the basement kitchens and storage rooms, with only the stone walls still standing to show where the building had once been, like a distorted brick skeleton. So much damage…and nothing left that she recognized.

She’d arrived in hell.

The tiger opened the door and reached his hand inside to help her down.

Olivia hesitated. Facing the loss of everything she’d held dear was almost too much to bear, and she smothered the urge to order the coachman to drive on, to take her…where? She no longer had a home, no longer had a brother to help create a new one.

The tiger frowned. “Miss?”

She pulled in a deep breath and slid her hand into his to step to the ash-covered ground.

Alec had already been gone from Harlow House when she’d finally given up on the idea of gaining any more rest and come out of her room that afternoon. His leaving had struck her like a blow. The intimacies, friendship, and support they’d shared during the past few weeks was over, its end announced with the finality of his absence.

He’d left a short note asking her to meet him here. Although he’d given no reason, she knew why—he wanted to tie up loose ends. His mission was over, and she didn’t need a better metaphor than this burned shell to signal that whatever had sparked between them had ended right along with his mission. Scepter had been stopped from assassinating the prime minister and the prince regent, and her brother was at that very moment being whisked away to the Continent while his grave was being dug for the unknown body that would fill it. The same unknown body that she was expected to publicly put to rest and mourn as if he truly were Henry. How long would she have to put fresh flowers on that grave? She supposed that was yet another loose end that Alec would explain away, right before he said his final goodbyes.

She’d always known what they’d shared could never be permanent. But knowing that didn’t lessen the pain. What surprised her was that she could still feel anything after the destruction of last night.

“Miss, would you like us to wait here for you?”

She glanced up at the gray sky with its layer of clouds that pressed down upon the city like a suffocating lid. More cold rain threatened to fall before the afternoon was over. “Please,” she whispered and couldn’t stop herself from shivering. “I don’t expect to be long.”

The tiger nodded and took his position by the carriage. With no choice, she wrapped the cloak she’d borrowed from Elizabeth tighter around herself and stepped slowly forward toward the destruction.

“Olivia,” Alec’s deep voice called out from behind the charred remains of the town house and sent a shiver of longing curling down her spine. “I’m in the service yard.”

Cursing herself for letting her emotions get the best of her, she blinked hard to clear the hot tears from her eyes and started carefully down what had once been a sliver of a side yard between the town house and the next row of terrace houses. Thank God the gap had served as a firebreak and kept the flames from destroying the next house. But now the gravel underfoot was covered with a slimy layer of ash and rainwater that was punctuated every few feet by large, charred chunks of wood. Beside her, the once-solid wall ended only two feet above her head and allowed glimpses through shattered windows of the black pit below. She kept her gaze focused on the surviving rear garden wall and the saddled horse tied there.

She emerged into the service yard and stopped.

Alec stood near the short stone steps that had once given access to the back of the town house but now led nowhere. Despite the bleak surroundings, he looked every inch an aristocrat, even with a sling wrapped around his arm. In his gray greatcoat and waistcoat, black trousers and boots, he was just as colorless as the day around him, yet his presence seemed to glow with an inner strength and resilience that could never fade into the gloom.

She loved him. He’d made her feel happy and protected, and she would have given anything to have a real future with him, a home and family. She didn’t care about his name or title, his wealth or influence—it was the man she loved. She lovedhim.

But her feelings were pointless. He’d asked her here to say goodbye.

Somehow, she willed her heart to keep beating and her lungs to keep breathing as he came toward her across the debris-strewn yard.

His boots crunched on the gravel as he stopped in front of her. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve rested.”

At that dodge, he lifted her chin and looked into her watery eyes. There was no hiding that she’d been crying. “The truth, Olivia.”

His gentle concern nearly undid her. At least the understanding still existed between them that they could always tell each other the truth. She prayed she could find comfort in that.

“The truth…is that everything I’d dedicated my life to is gone, along with my brother.” While she might have nothing material left now, she still possessed her pride and squared her shoulders. “But I’m alive, and so is everyone I care about. That’s all that matters.”