Page 96 of A Relentless Rake

As her feet touched the footpath, Olivia released Alec and collapsed to her knees. She gulped in great mouthfuls of air between fierce coughs to clear the suffocating smoke from her lungs. Through stinging, blurry eyes, she saw a crowd in the street and a few men attempting to start a bucket brigade, not to save the school but to keep the fire from spreading to the other houses. Shouts and alarm bells rang through the night, bringing even more people into the growing confusion.

But she also saw Henry being whisked away through the crowd by Clayton Elliott, Mrs. Adams clutching Cora in her arms, Justine Smith huddling all the girls together on the other side of the street…and Alec, who dropped to the ground beside her to gather her into his arms.

She stared over his shoulder at the building that had been her home and her life, that had been her only future. With a great groan, the walls and floors collapsed in upon themselves in a giant inferno of flames and sparks that shot up into the night sky like uncontrolled fireworks.

Her arms tightened around his neck, and she buried her face in his shoulder, no longer able to keep back the flood of tears as a desolate cry of anguish and loss tore from her.Gone…all gone…

Twenty-Five

Alec handed Nate Reed a glass of cognac and leaned back casually against the large reading table in the library at Harlow House. He’d rather have had this meeting with his half brother back in his own study at St James House, but considering that the Everett School girls were temporarily encamped there, he much preferred to be here in the relative calm of the dower house.

It was a little too early in the afternoon to be drinking, but given all they’d been through in the past few days, a stiff drink seemed appropriate. It was also a first step in the reconciliation he hoped for with his brother. The two of them might never be friends, but Alec now knew he could trust Reed with his life.

Outside, cold rain beaded down the windows in thick rivulets. Last night’s drizzle had turned into a near downpour, and the rain would extinguish whatever embers still glowed at the school. When the weather broke, Alec planned to ride to the site and search through the debris. He hoped against hope to find any evidence to link the destruction to Scepter, but in his heart, he expected to find nothing.

After all, Clayton Elliott had already been to the school before dawn. He’d had work to do. Not only had he combed through the site as best he could given the still glowing embers, but he’d placed a dead body among the debris—a man who’d died in another fire the day before, his corpse so burned as to be unrecognizable. A man the same size as Henry Everett.

When the body was found at dawn, everyone thought it was Everett, even though the man himself was halfway to the Continent by then. He’d been exiled, given a new identity, and told he could never return to England. Nor would he want to, given that Scepter would kill him the moment they discovered he’d survived.

Olivia would never see him again, but at least her brother would be alive.

Reed took a healthy swallow of the brandy, then glanced around the library without comment despite a disdainful look for all the obvious benefits of rank and wealth on display. As a bastard son, Reed had been cheated out of those benefits, the same ones the Sinclairs had always taken for granted.

Guilt gnawed at Alec’s gut. The feeling had only grown over the past few weeks that they’d been working together. Before, Alec had been happy to live his life ignoring Reed, whom he’d seen as only another reminder of their father’s secret life. That was no longer an option.

Now that Reed was in their lives, the Sinclairs would have to find a way to make amends. Somehow.

“How is Miss Everett faring?” Reed waved away Alec’s invitation to sit in the leather chair before the fire.

“As well as can be expected.”

Olivia was upstairs in one of the guestrooms, still sleeping off her fatigue of the last two nights. He’d brought her to Harlow House immediately after the fire, ordered a hot bath for her, and managed to avoid most of the Sinclair ladies’ questions. Then he’d tucked her into bed himself so she could rest, recover from the night’s ordeal, and grieve for both the loss of the school and for her brother’s exile.

“Does she know yet about her brother?” Reed asked quietly.

Alec rubbed at his bandaged arm as it rested in its sling. “I told her last night.”

With a slow nod of understanding, Reed swirled the liquor in his glass. “Clayton will make certain he’s hidden away where no one can find him.”

“He’ll also make certain Sir George swings.”

“No,” Reed corrected somberly. “The man was right last night when he said he wouldn’t go to Newgate.” He looked up from the cognac. “He’s dead.”

Alec’s heart skipped. “When?”

“Dawn. He grabbed a knife from a guard and killed himself rather than face scandal. Or Scepter.”

Alec took a healthy swallow of cognac and let the liquid burn down his throat.Christ.

“So the next question,” Reed said quietly, “is where does that leave our mission?”

Ourmission. For the first time, Alec’s chest warmed at the idea of the two of them working together. “With the assassination plot against the prime minister solved and the attack on Waterloo Bridge thwarted.” He tapped his finger against the crystal tumbler in emphasis. “We’re only one or two people away now from finding Scepter’s leaders.”

“And Lady Rowland to guide us to them.”

Alec carefully kept his face inscrutable. Sydney Rowland involved with traitors… He still couldn’t believe it.

“Clayton confirmed what Everett confessed last night to his sister,” Reed informed him. “He’d built up huge debts attempting to ingratiate himself with the Royal Society. Last month, Lady Rowland quietly bought up those debts, then demanded immediate repayment. She threatened to send him to debtors’ prison if he defaulted.”