Book Read Free

The Second Seduction

Page 12

by Shelley Munro


  “Yes, getting into mischief,” she murmured, trying to

  keep her tone stern, but failing dismally when Noir licked

  her hand. “I’ve no idea how you escape from my chamber.

  Mary swears the door is shut.”

  Th

  e kitten meowed in answer.

  “Yes, I think Mary is frightened of you.” She smoothed

  one hand over the kitten’s glossy black coat. “Mary thinks

  you’re a witch’s cat too, because of your extra toes, your yellow

  eyes, and your black coat. Luckily, I’ve managed to keep the

  other maids from studying you too closely.”

  Th

  e wind wailed outside. Her candle fl ickered. In the

  133

  SHELLEY MUNRO

  distance, a shutter banged. Rosalind shivered. Another quick

  squall pelted against the castle, blowing in from the sea

  without warning. Th

  e candle fl ame fl uttered and died. Th

  e

  chamber plunged into darkness.

  “Bother.” After she’d been pushed from her bed, she’d

  taken to sleeping with a candle lighting the room, or trying

  to. Th

  e blessed things kept blowing out. A chill crawled

  along her arms and a swooping, hollow sensation danced in

  her stomach. She stumbled toward her bed and placed the

  kitten down out of harm’s way, every sense alert. Th

  e dark-

  ness seemed to pulse and reach out for her like a living being;

  whispers of evil slithered over her skin leaving dozens of

  goose bumps.

  A creak drew a loud gasp. Was that a footstep? She swal-

  lowed, each breath sounding deafening to her ears. A soft

  rustle made her freeze. Was that the bed curtains? A footfall

  on the rug?

  Rosalind fumbled her way along the length of the four-

  poster bed to a walnut dresser. She groped for another candle.

  Fingers worked like thumbs as she struggled to light the taper.

  A loud squeak behind made her jump. Her head jerked.

  A breeze whispered against her cheek, and the candle blew

  out again. Rosalind smelled a whiff of the sea and something

  else . . . Tobacco?

  134

  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  Noir’s distant meow galvanized her to action. She needed

  a candle lit. Now.

  “I’m not imagining things,” she muttered. “I’m not.” Her

  hand trembled as she struggled to produce light. Someone

  was inside the chamber with her. Another meow sounded as

  the fl ame on the candle fi nally fl ared to life. Rosalind held

  the candlestick aloft, every nerve in her body screaming to

  run. But, she held fast. Rosalind intended to show Hastings

  the specters at Castle St. Clare were not the product of an

  over-active imagination. Th

  ere was mischief afoot, and no

  matter how terrifi ed, she wanted to prove it.

  “Noir? Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.” Rosalind crept about

  her chamber searching for her pet. He was here somewhere.

  Right now, she craved contact with him to help steady her

  jangling nerves.

  Rosalind searched every corner, under her bed, and in

  her dressing room. Finally, she came to the only possible

  conclusion.

  Noir was no longer in the room even though all the doors

  were fi rmly closed.

  A plaintive meow attracted Lucien’s attention. He paused in

  135

  SHELLEY MUNRO

  the passage that led to his chamber. A black creature fl itted

  under the oak table in an alcove. Rosalind’s kitten. A slow

  smile spread across his face as he watched the kitten bat a dust

  mote along the ground. Th

  e kitten sidled closer, then pounced.

  His whiskers twitched a second before a sneeze exploded.

  Lucien chuckled and scooped the kitten up in one hand,

  cradling it to his chest and smoothing his thumb over its

  furry head. A loud purr fi lled the silent passage.

  “I think Rosalind might miss you,” Lucien murmured.

  Th

  e kitten rubbed his head against Lucien’s thumb, silently

  demanding the stroking recommence.

  Lucien strode down the silent passage to Rosalind’s

  chamber. It was adjacent to his, with a connecting door be-

  tween the two rooms — a connecting door that remained

  fi rmly shut. So much for Lord St. Clare’s hope to bounce a

  grandchild on his knee. Pain spiked through Lucien’s heart.

  His unborn child had died along with Francesca. He would

  never have another.

  Lucien pounded on the door. Footsteps sounded, then

  the door cracked open enough for the person on the other

  side to peer out.

  “Hastings.” Th

  e gap between the door and the frame

  widened abruptly. “Hastings,” she repeated, her expression

  one of amazement and apprehension.

  136

  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  As Lucien watched, her right hand darted out to smooth

  her hair. She moistened her lips.

  “Ah, come in,” she murmured, standing aside to let him

  enter.

  Th

  e delicate blush on her cheeks, visible even in candle-

  light made him freeze. An internal alarm clanged and his

  scar tightened as he grimaced. A tic started under one eye.

  “I’ve come to return your kitten.” He spoke harshly, unable

  to believe the thoughts darting across the English mouse’s

  face. Unconceivable! Th

  at she would think . . . His brows

  pinched together. Good God. Th

  e woman . . . Th

  e last thing

  he wanted was to bed the scrawny English mouse. “Here.” He

  thrust the kitten at her.

  “Don’t you want children?” she blurted, taking the kitten

  without touching him. Her cheeks glowed a fi ery red, but she

  met his scowl unfl inchingly.

  “No! I do not want children. ” Judging by the pained look

  on her face, he’d hurt her feelings. Unable to bear a sudden

  onslaught of guilt, Lucien spun around and reached the door

  in two steps. It clicked shut behind him, sounding abnor-

  mally loud. He winced. Hell’s teeth! All he’d done was act

  civilly, and straight away she’d made assumptions. Th

  e Eng-

  lish mouse and Lady Helena both in the same night.

  Tension tightened his muscles while anger made him

  137

  SHELLEY MUNRO

  long to strike out — a wall, a man, anything to dispel the

  strain galloping through his body. His decision to keep a

  careful watch on his wife no longer seemed wise, not when

  his attentions made her jump to conclusions. Already, the

  woman featured too prominently in his thoughts.

  Lucien shuddered and started for his room before

  abruptly changing both his mind and direction. If he re-

  tired for the night, he’d have trouble sleeping or worse, have

  nightmares again. He might as well go to the cove and search

  for smuggler activity. Not all the men were masked. Lucien

  wanted to fi nd an inconspicuous place to watch a shipment

  being unloaded. Hopefully, he’d recognize some of the locals

/>   that were involved and be able to work out the weakest link,

  the man he could break or bribe and receive some straight

  answers about Hawk. Th

  e man had appeared mysteriously

  six months ago, from what he could gather. Th

  ere must be

  someone who knew more.

  He glanced out a nearby window. Th

  e sickle moon was

  shrouded with thick cloud. Th

  e night appeared perfect for

  smugglers, and Lucien was not about to pass up a chance to

  fi nd the elusive Hawk.

  138

  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  “Ah, Lady Rosalind. We meet again.”

  Rosalind’s head jerked up as a man’s voice cut into her

  frenzied thoughts. Mr. Soulden. Cousin Charles, she remind-

  ed herself. He sauntered toward her, a slim and fashionable

  fi gure in a white shirt, a heavily embroidered lavender waist-

  coat and matching breeches, his wig a lighter hue of lavender.

  Quite the gentleman; he should have looked out of place

  amongst the wild, overgrown hedges and gardens, but didn’t.

  Rosalind returned his smile even though she had never felt

  less like smiling in her life. Not after Hastings’ fi rm rebuttal

  of last night.

  Don’t think of it, she told herself fi rmly, but Hastings’

  stern words continued to rattle around inside her head, echo-

  ing until she wanted to scream. Plain and blunt, his words

  and the underlying sentiment had sliced like a dagger, cutting

  wounds that went deep. Rosalind wanted to crawl away and

  tend her injuries in private; she did not want company. She

  considered waving and continuing with her walk, but decided

  it wouldn’t do to upset the only person who had extended

  the hand of friendship since her arrival. Now that Mary had

  found someone, a man she spent her free time with, Rosalind

  was often alone.

  Lonely.

  Th

  e smile felt stiff and foreign on her lips, more a

  139

  SHELLEY MUNRO

  grimace than anything, but it was the best she could do.

  She inclined her head in greeting as Charles picked his way

  around a haphazard bed of purple and white petunias and

  stopped before her.

  “Cousin Charles,” she murmured.

  “Might I escort you on a turn about the garden?” he

  asked, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as if invit-

  ing her to share in a private joke. “It is a glorious day.”

  Her grimace never faltered. “I’m afraid I’m wandering

  aimlessly, without real purpose.”

  His blond brows arched, and he indicated the drawing

  materials she held with a languid hand. “Can I not help you

  fi nd the perfect bloom to paint, the perfect pastoral scene?”

  His unfailing good spirits made guilt surface. And even

  though Rosalind felt like moping alone, she decided to make

  an eff ort. “I thought of painting the sea. Not that I am a

  gifted artist. It is something to do out of doors.”

  “I’ve noticed you try to avoid Aunt Augusta,” he inserted,

  his smile turning sly.

  Rosalind’s gasp was instant and loud in the silence of the

  garden. “No, I don’t!” Th

  e defensive note she heard in her

  voice drew a frown. It was true. She avoided Lady Augusta as

  much as she shunned mice. In fact, if the truth be told, she

  would prefer to face an unpredictable mouse.

  140

  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  “Let me take your drawing materials for you.” Charles

  tucked her hand in the crook of his free arm, and by common

  consent they wandered down an overgrown path that led to

  the far end of the formal part of the garden.

  “I am not avoiding Lady Augusta,” Rosalind said, break-

  ing the silence that had fallen between them. At least she’d

  done one thing right in her panic to leave the castle without

  seeing Lady Augusta. Her gloves were in place, protecting her

  hands against thorns and possible visions.

  “I’m not accusing you of anything.” He fl ashed a grin.

  “When Aunt Augusta gets in one of her moods, there is no

  gainsaying her.”

  Incredulity jerked Rosalind from dark thoughts of her

  marriage. Lady Augusta was always in a mood. Th

  e woman

  was cranky and outright obnoxious. Nothing Rosalind did

  pleased her, which was why she’d escaped outside. “I’ve no-

  ticed she never snaps at you.”

  “You didn’t hear her this morning.”

  Rosalind sighed. “Probably after she found me absent.”

  “No, she never mentioned you. I was in the fi ring line

  today. According to Aunt Augusta, I spend far too much time

  gadding around the countryside. I need to settle down with

  someone of her choice. Unfortunately, her choices don’t fi nd

  much favor with me. Last one giggled and the one before had

  141

  SHELLEY MUNRO

  teeth that would look better in a horse.” He shuddered and

  patted Rosalind’s arm. “Go on, give me a smile. Don’t let

  Aunt Augusta wear you down.”

  His sympathetic words made tears build at the back of

  her eyes. Rosalind looked down at the path glad when it nar-

  rowed to the point they could no longer walk side by side. She

  blinked fi ercely trying to keep the tears at bay. She’d been a

  fool to think that marriage was the answer to her problems.

  Before marriage, the dream of children and family was im-

  possible, but now it was equally improbable because Hastings

  refused to acknowledge her. He was frequently absent from

  the castle, sometimes for days. When present, he chose to

  ignore her.

  Th

  e path widened, and Charles took possession of

  her arm again. Unbidden, a tear trickled down her face. It

  splashed onto Charles’ shirtsleeve and was immediately fol-

  lowed by another.

  “Do you know where Hastings is?” Charles asked.

  A sob broke free. “No.” As if he’ d tell her where he was

  going.

  Charles stopped walking without warning, dragging

  Rosalind to a halt. He peered at her in astonishment. “Are

  you crying?”

  “No.”

  142

  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  “You are. What’s wrong?”

  Rosalind sniff ed. “I’m not crying.”

  Charles grasped her upper arms and reached out to trace

  one fi nger across Rosalind’s cheekbone. Th

  e sun glinted on

  the teardrop sitting on his fi nger. “Crying, just as I suspected.

  What’s wrong?” he murmured. “Would you like me to fi nd

  Hastings for you?”

  “No!”

  “No?”

  “Hastings is busy. I don’t want to bother him.”

  Charles stepped closer and gently wiped her cheeks with

  the back of his hand, a soft smile of sympathy on his face.

  He was close enough for Rosalind to smell him: the faint

  scent of shaving soap, the rice powder that coated his wig,

  and cloves and cinnamon on his clothes. He drew her closer

  still until her
cheek rested on his waistcoat, the silver em-

  broidery scratchy on her skin. His hand smoothed down her

  back. After resisting for an instant, Rosalind relaxed into his

  comforting embrace.

  “From what I hear, marriage is not an easy thing. Since

  his return from Europe I have found George changed.”

  “Don’t you mean Lucien?” Rosalind asked.

  Charles chuckled. “Yes, of course. Lucien, as he prefers

  to be known.”

  143

  SHELLEY MUNRO

  Rosalind sniff ed and pulled far enough away that she

  was able to see Charles’ face. “How has he changed? What

  was he like as a boy?”

  “I arrived at Castle St. Clare after my parents died in a

  carriage accident. St. Clare and Lady Augusta treated me like

  another son and Hastings and his best friend, Justin, treated

  me like a brother. Th

  e three of us were inseparable, always in

  scrapes but always a threesome. We went on our Grand Tour

  together. St. Clare hired a tutor, and the three of us started

  on our big adventure.”

  As Rosalind watched, Charles seemed to drift back into

  the past. She touched his arm to regain his attention. “What

  happened?” Although she’d heard rumors, she needed facts

  from someone who knew fi rsthand.

  Charles blinked the past away. “We were in Italy. After

  spending time in Florence, we traveled down the coast in-

  tending to visit the ruins at Pompeii. We were in Naples at a

  tavern. Justin and I decided to leave early and return to our

  rooms. Massey, our tutor came with us, but Lucien had met a

  woman and he stayed. It was a huge joke to us all.” He paused

  and coughed. “Not fi t for a woman’s ears really.”

  “Go on,” Rosalind urged. “Please, I’d like to know.”

  “It was a contest between us, as most things were. A game.”

  “A contest about women?”

  144

  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  A trace of red fl irted with his cheekbones and he grinned

  crookedly. “Ah, yes. Lucien wanted to win.”

  “So, he stayed on at the tavern.”

  “We never saw him again. None of us worried until late

  the next afternoon. We searched for days. Th

  e woman was

  the last person to see him. We questioned her, but she was

  unable to help. Th

  ey spent most of the night together, parting

  in the early hours of the morning when it was still dark. It

  was as if he’d disappeared off the face of the earth.”

  “Were the people in the tavern questioned? Th

 

‹ Prev