Page 27

“Come on, pull yourself together,” Stan said as he climbed off the carriage, wincing before pressing against his shoulder.

“Be careful. Should you have left the rehabilitation center?” Alex asked.

“I’m trained for worse, brother. You should know.” Two years of naval training had honed his senses. Unfortunately, it seemed that a few days with Sera had undone most of it. His brother was right. He needed to pull himself together.

Still, the feeling lingered.

He turned his head slightly, his sharp gaze sweeping over the row of houses. Was someone there? Watching? A faint silhouette shifted behind a curtain, and Alex narrowed his eyes, but moments later it was gone.

He’d only ever felt such acute awareness in her presence, a tension crackling down his spine like a static charge.

Alex reached a gloved hand to lightly adjust his cravat and exhaled. Foolish.

Sera wasn’t here.

She couldn’t be.

That life—those days—they belonged far from this finely dressed, proper corner of the world.

And yet, his chest felt heavy, as if she were nearby, like the scent of the sea clinging to the edges of memory.

He shook the thought away, tightening his jaw.

He wasn’t the boy who had strolled through orchards by her side.

Not anymore. She wasn’t the girl in bare feet, wandering through the sand as if the world were hers to conquer.

And besides, this world wasn’t hers—not here.

His brother came up the stairs just ahead. “This is the residence of the Earl and Countess of Langley,” Stan noted, waving a hand at the grand house before them.

“The earl and I have been working on the problem with Baron von List for a while. He’s eager to hear your thoughts on a few documents,” Stan added.

“Hm-hm.” Alex tilted his head, glancing toward the house again before shifting his focus to the neighboring property, a quieter presence with delicate hedges and a far less imposing facade.

“Do you know the neighbors there?” His hand lingered at the edge of his coat, unsure why he felt drawn to that house, just knowing that the unease under his skin grew.

Stan stopped halfway to the door “Just some wealthy people, I’d wager.” came a soft, matter-of-fact voice from behind him. Thea descended after them, her silk skirts brushing the step lightly. She adjusted her gloves, her tone light yet firmly dismissive.

Alex turned his gaze back to the quiet house across the lane, surveying it once more. Just some wealthy people… but something didn’t sit right. He couldn’t explain it, even to himself.

Something about this place unsettled him.

The odd prickle on his skin persisted as if it knew better than he did. At last, he shook the thought away, his fingers curling into a fist before unclenching.

The heavy oak door of the Langley residence suddenly swung open, revealing the straight-backed butler waiting within. Without a word, Stan took the lead, ascending the steps to the entrance. Thea offered Alex a faint smile as she followed, completely unbothered, her steps precise and light.

Alex cast one last glance over his shoulder toward the quiet houses.

Then, shifting his coat slightly, he turned and climbed the stairs, his boots firm against the stone.

Whatever nagging feeling gnawed at him would have to wait.

For now, they had business inside. Once they were ushered in with all the pomp and circumstance due two princes and a princess, Alex noticed that the Langleys’ parlor was bright and spacious, draped in elegance without tipping into ostentation.

A patterned rug softened the polished floors, while the golden light of the afternoon sun streamed through tall windows dressed in cream-colored draperies.

A faint aroma of roses lingered in the air, blending with the sharper scent of lemon polish on the furnishings.

Alex stepped into the room behind Stan and Thea, where two couples were already waiting.

The Earl of Langley stood near the settee, his posture straight despite a streak of gray in his well-kept hair.

Age seemed to have tempered his movements, but there was no mistaking the sharpness in his eyes or the authority in his bearing.

He hovered near his wife, Violet, the Countess of Langley, glancing toward her with an attentiveness that bordered on protective.

She sat gracefully, one hand resting lightly on the curve of her swollen belly, her cheeks flushed in a way that spoke more of contentment than discomfort.

Beside them were two more people, a young man and woman.

“Welcome,” the earl said after the usual formal introductions, his voice warm. He extended his hand to Stan and then to Alex, the grip firm but quick. “We’re glad you could make time to visit before the ball. My wife is especially grateful for the chance to rest before the festivities begin.”

“Congratulations,” Alex said with a curt glance at her round belly. Thea and Stan seemed to know these people, but they were strangers to Alex—regardless of Stan’s trust in the Langleys.

The countess smiled at that, her gaze sincere as it swept over the siblings. “Quite right,” she said, her hands folded in her lap. “But how lovely it is to have such fine company already. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

Stan and Thea obliged with ease, each choosing a seat. Alex, however, took the closest chair. His unease hadn’t completely left him; nerves still prickled at the edge of his awareness like an elusive shadow in the corner of his mind—his every thought circling back to Sera.

Before he could dwell on it, a cheerful voice broke through the hum of polite conversation.

“And here we are,” Thomas continued, leaning slightly toward his companion, “remiss for not having come together sooner.”

The blonde young woman at his side turned her head graciously, her features smooth and bright with expression. Her hair framed her face perfectly, styled to invite admiration, though she seemed utterly unbothered by it.

“Allow me,” she said, rising in a single fluid motion. Her smile reached Alex even before her words. “Lady Ashley, and this, of course, is my fiancé, Thomas, the Earl of Linsey. We do hope you will remain in England long enough to attend our wedding?”

Alex stood as manners dictated, bowing slightly in recognition, and placed a quick kiss on her knuckles.

“A pleasure, Lady Ashley. Linsey,” he added with a nod toward Thomas.

He smiled back warmly, and Alex thought that these were people he could befriend.

Perhaps they were the sort of nobles who’d even accept Sera if he could introduce her to Society.

But if not, he’d either take her back to Bran Castle as his princess or purchase a manor in Cornwall, her favorite place in the world.

Alex felt heat rushing to his head and he tugged at his starched cravat. It had been so much easier to breathe on the boat with Sera, the wind in his hair and her gaze on him instead of the prying eyes.

The open windows lining the hallway offered scant relief.

He moved to stand near one of them.

He glanced to where his sister sat, her posture impossibly straight despite the oppressive warmth. Beside her, Lady Ashley perched on a sapphire settee, her fan moving briskly but doing little to combat the heat.

“Lady Anna’s ball promises to be the grandest affair of the year,” Ashley said, her voice crisp and bright, breaking above the hum of nearby chatter. “Truly, the very thought of it makes me giddy!”

Alex bit back an eye roll and made no effort to hide his disdain entirely.

Balls were meant to be endured, not celebrated.

They were glittering spectacles concealing the same well-worn ambitions and schemes in different gowns each season.

Thea caught his reaction immediately, her sharp eyes narrowing briefly.

“This isn’t just another ball, Alex,” she said, her tone measured but resolute. “It’s my introduction—a welcome of sorts. I have waited for this moment, and I intend to make it count.”

He studied her, noting the determined tilt of her chin.

A strand of blonde hair stuck rebelliously to her temple, but she didn’t reach to fix it—either because she didn’t notice or, more likely, refused to care.

She really meant it, Alex thought. She wasn’t here to fade into shy obscurity.

She planned to step fully into the swirling currents of her new arrival in London, and society wouldn’t miss the point.

That meant attention.

Attention felt no different from the threats posed by opponents in Alex’s life.

Yet, he didn’t react. Instead, he leaned back enough to take in a long view of the hallway beyond.

Beads of sweat pricked at the back of his neck beneath his cravat.

Lady Ashley and Thea had already shifted the conversation, their voices dipping into topics that he refused to waste his thoughts on.

Grateful for the respite, Alex’s attention turned to the pair of men standing near the fireplace.

His brother Stan stood tall, his arms loosely crossed in a way that hid the tension Alex recognized.

The earl rested one hand on the mantel, his expression grave as he leaned slightly toward Stan, their conversation clearly meant to remain hushed with occasional glances at the women.

They didn’t want to alarm the ladies, Alex guessed.

“Very dangerous,” Stan muttered, his rich, steady voice unmistakable even in hushed tones.

The earl nodded, his brows knitting together. “Unpredictable,” he added, his voice equally quiet.