The Second Seduction

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The Second Seduction Page 19

by Shelley Munro


  “I heard your words,” he snapped. “It was the meaning I

  didn’t fathom.”

  “You’re in danger too. I heard the villagers talking.”

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  SHELLEY MUNRO

  “Th

  ere is no point arguing. Come, Lady Augusta waits

  for you in the Chinese drawing room.” He didn’t have time

  for this.

  Rosalind wanted to screech in a tantrum of Miranda pro-

  portions. He refused to acknowledge the danger to himself

  while he ordered her about like a servant. Who would watch

  his back? Th

  ere would be no dark-haired sons or daughters

  for her if her husband died.

  A resolute determination crept to the surface, undaunted

  by Hastings’ threats. Th

  ere was too much of her future at

  stake here. If he refused to take safety concerns into account,

  then she’d act as guard and escort.

  Hastings escorted her to the Chinese drawing room and

  paused before entering. Rosalind grimaced at the closed door

  that separated them from Lady Augusta’s wrath. “Can’t you

  pretend you searched and couldn’t fi nd me?”

  Hastings’ chuckle held clear satisfaction. It was obvious

  he intended to keep her busy waiting on Lady Augusta so she

  wouldn’t have time to disobey his edicts.

  He pushed the door open and stood aside for her to

  enter. Lady Augusta sat in an upright chair, her head lowered

  in sleep.

  “Where are you going now?” Rosalind murmured. Th

  e

  man was in danger, whether he believed it or not.

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  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  “I need to check on the roofi ng and rebuilding in the

  village.”

  “I don’t think we should wake Lady Augusta,” Rosalind

  said. “She needs her rest.”

  At that moment, Lady Augusta stirred. Her head whipped

  up, instantly alert. “What took you so long? I summoned you

  an hour ago.”

  Hastings edged toward the door and disappeared.

  “I have just returned from the village,” Rosalind said. “I

  came as soon as I realized you needed me.”

  “Humph! I need more of that tonic you made me.”

  “I thought you said it didn’t help.”

  Lady Augusta’s glare was sharp enough to pierce the thick

  castle walls, but it didn’t put a dent in Rosalind’s rising spirits.

  Lady Augusta had gifted her a reason to wander outside.

  She worked at keeping her satisfaction hidden but it

  burst forth in a smile. “I’ll need to collect more fresh herbs

  before I can make more tonic. I’ll see to it immediately.” Ro-

  salind bustled from the Chinese room. If she hurried, she’d

  catch up with Hastings. Rosalind had no intention of letting

  him out of her sight. Th

  e fact that Hawk had assigned men

  to follow her husband didn’t bode well. Her best friend had

  disappeared without a trace, and she didn’t intend to lose her

  husband in the same way.

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  SHELLEY MUNRO

  In the long gallery, the same edgy sensation she experi-

  enced while she was alone in her chamber shivered down her

  backbone. Rosalind forced away her unease and pretended

  she noticed nothing out of the ordinary.

  When she entered the Great Hall, she slowed. Escape

  from the castle would require subtlety, especially if an un-

  known stranger spied on her every action. Janet and the

  dark-haired maid strolled through and seconds later, Tickell

  followed. Rosalind fl attened against the wall and was thank-

  ful she wore an old brown open robe that blended in to the

  Flemish tapestry where she hovered. Th

  eir footsteps faded

  and after ascertaining the way was clear, Rosalind slipped

  outside. She scurried along the courtyard wall, heading for

  the small gate that led into the North Tower garden.

  Rosalind wasn’t sure where Lucien had intended going.

  Her mind had blanked all but their kiss. Under normal cir-

  cumstances, she’d have been thrilled to lose her accursed

  gift, but not right now when she needed to keep Lucien

  safe. Frowning, she fi nally headed for the North tower, her

  skirts sweeping past the tangle of plants and blackberries.

  It wouldn’t hurt to investigate a little under the pretext of

  searching for herbs.

  At the edge of the garden wilderness, her steps slowed.

  She squinted into the afternoon sun. Th

  e North tower clung

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  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  to the edge of the cliff . Part of the weathered gray tower had

  crumbled into the sea leaving a skeleton behind. A pile of

  debris blocked the arched doorway. As Rosalind pondered

  the tower, a raven fl ew through a slit in the wall, its loud

  caw echoing eerily before it reached the open sky. A shudder

  worked through her body, and she glanced over her shoulder

  in disquiet.

  Th

  en she heard it — the clip-clop of hooves on the stony

  track that ran the other side of the tower. A fl icker of ap-

  prehension gave her feet wings. Rosalind ran for an oak tree

  at the edge of the garden and scrambled up into the lower

  branches.

  Th

  e horse trotted closer. A combination of trepidation

  and daring swept through her veins when Rosalind peered

  through the screen of green leaves.

  Lucien.

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  XII

  Oops. Lucien had seen her. Th e clenched jaw and nar-

  rowed eyes were discouraging, but she owed it to Mary

  to keep searching. Mary would do nothing less for her. And

  as for her husband — he was in danger whether he denied

  it or not. Her chin lifted in determination when she met his

  scowling gaze.

  Rosalind clambered down from the low oak branch and

  put her gown and cloak to rights. “Ah, good afternoon.”

  “What the devil do you think you’re doing?”

  “You’re in danger. I’ve tried to tell you, yet you refuse

  to listen.”

  A bark of laughter escaped him, transforming his face

  into someone more approachable, a man she defi nitely wanted

  to know. “What sort of danger?”

  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  “A man is going to kill you.” Rosalind bit her lip, un-

  decided on how much to tell him. She’d worked so hard to

  earn his approval, his trust . . . his smiles. Telling him of her

  cursed gift would change everything.

  “How do you know?” he asked, curiosity glinting in his

  dark eyes.

  Panic roared through her, lodging like a huge knot inside

  her stomach. She wrenched her gaze away. She couldn’t tell

  him only to watch the fear and superstition slide across his

  face like a mask. A few words and her fate would be sealed.

  Th

  e secure, loving relationship she craved would slip beyond

  her grasp. “I just know,” she whispered.

  Lucien snorted. “I suggest you return to the castle. We

  will discuss your punishment when I return.”

  “Didn’t
you hear? You’re in danger. I think someone is

  trying to hurt you.”

  “Where is your escort?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “Return to the castle now. I will deal with you when I

  return.”

  He wheeled Oberon about and galloped away.

  Rosalind winced at his anger. He didn’t believe her. What

  was she going to do? She couldn’t tell him how she knew. Her

  gift. Her visions. He’d start treating her like a circus freak, if

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  SHELLEY MUNRO

  he didn’t call her witch fi rst or commit her to Bedlam just as

  her aunt had constantly threatened.

  Rosalind’s uneasiness increased when Hastings failed to

  appear for the evening meal.

  “Where is Hastings?” Lady Augusta demanded of Charles.

  “I have no idea.” He turned to Justin who had joined the

  family for dinner. “Did you see him on the way here?”

  Justin shrugged and toyed with his glass of wine. “I

  haven’t seen him. I’ve been . . . otherwise engaged.”

  “Dallying with that widow on the road to Dover, no

  doubt,” Lady Augusta snapped. “He’s a bad infl uence on you,

  Charles. You’ll never get wed if you carry on like Justin!”

  “We’re not children any longer, Aunt,” Charles said in

  a mild voice. “Besides, you enjoy Justin’s tales of life in the

  sultan’s court. You can’t call them children’s stories.”

  “I could tell you about the harem,” Justin said slyly,

  winking at Rosalind.

  “Humph,” Lady Augusta said, pretending off ense, but

  Rosalind caught the clear curiosity on her lined face.

  St. Clare chimed in. “Lucien told me he wanted to check

  the roofi ng work on the cottages in the village. Th

  at was

  224

  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  hours ago.”

  Worry killed Rosalind’s appetite and she stopped trying

  to eat. Something had happened to him. She just knew it. If

  the stubborn man had listened to her . . .

  “Th

  at sounds like Hastings now,” Charles said when they

  heard a commotion from the direction of the Great Hall.

  “Th

  oughtless man,” Lady Augusta snapped. “We’ve al-

  ready fi nished our soup. I refuse to wait while Hastings eats

  his soup.”

  Tickell entered the dining room. “Lady Rosalind . . .”

  Rosalind bounded to her feet before the butler fi nished.

  “Where is he?”

  “In his chamber. He asked that you attend him there.”

  Rosalind fl ew down the passages and up the stairs, barely

  registering her surroundings. Hastings was hurt. Th

  e words

  pounded through her brain. She burst into his chamber, her

  breath coming in gasps.

  “I told Tickell not to bother you.”

  “You’re bleeding.” Rosalind sought the source of the

  blood on his face. “Let me get my bag.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Th

  en, let me see,” Rosalind replied. Before he could

  argue, she moved closer, brushing a lock of hair away from

  his forehead. She swallowed a laugh, turning it into a choking

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  SHELLEY MUNRO

  gasp at the last moment. “Is the rebuilding on schedule?”

  His eyes narrowed as his gaze fastened on her face.

  “Everything is fi ne.”

  “I have salve in my bag that will help the cut heal.”

  “All right,” he growled. “If you must, but it’s not necessary.”

  Rosalind nodded and hurried to her chamber. Her smile

  bloomed. He’d tripped over a log while playing with two

  children and was too embarrassed to admit his clumsiness.

  Still grinning, she burst into her chamber. Th

  e grin died a

  quick death.

  “No!”

  Her belongings were strewn over the fl oor, her bed linens

  ripped from the bed. Slowly, she made her way through the

  path of destruction. Her new silk gowns were tossed care-

  lessly on the fl oor. One glance told her they were shredded

  beyond repair. Rosalind scooped up the broken remains of

  her hairbrush, the last remaining memento she had of her

  mother. Tears stung her eyes. Why? she thought. Th

  e wanton

  destruction seemed so senseless, as if the person had destroyed

  all her belongings in a jealous rage.

  “Noir?” His plaintive meow started a frantic search.

  “Noir, where are you?”

  Another meow sounded, then a small black head poked

  from under a pile of bed linens. Rosalind scooped him up,

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  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  hugging the kitten to her chest. “Th

  ank goodness you are all

  right. I bet you saw who did this.” She stroked a fi nger over

  his head until he started to purr.

  Sighing, she placed Noir on the bare feather mattress and

  searched for the bell to ring for help. Th

  e maid announced

  her arrival with a brief knock on the door.

  “Come in,” Rosalind called.

  Janet slipped through the door and came to a stunned

  halt. “Lady Rosalind, what happened?”

  “My room was like this when I came up.”

  “I’ll call another maid to help clean up. You’ll want fresh

  linens for the bed too.” Janet turned to the door. “I’ll be back

  in a few minutes.”

  Rosalind sighed as she started to pick up her treasured

  knickknacks: a small china shepherdess with her head broken

  off , a glass vase, and the selection of fl owers that it had once

  contained, and several mismatched shoes.

  Janet returned with another maid sauntering in her wake.

  Th

  e maid’s ample chest heaved with a put upon sigh when she

  saw the mess to clear up.

  “I checked with the other maids. None of them saw

  anyone enter your chamber. And Beth turned down your

  bed,” Janet said.

  “I did. Everything was in order when I left.” Beth circled the

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  SHELLEY MUNRO

  room in a slow, leisurely gait. “You’ve got enemies, you has.”

  Rosalind bit back the retort at her lips. Th

  e woman had

  to state the obvious. “If you would make up my bed, I’ll help

  Janet sweep the fl oor.”

  “Make sure you shake the linens well before you take

  them away. A little more glass and broken china on my fl oor

  won’t do any harm. Here, I’ll shift Noir for you so you can

  make up the bed.” She put the kitten in a corner, gave him a

  scrap of ribbon to play with, and told him sternly to stay out

  of the way.

  Th

  e cleanup took two hours and by the time they were

  fi nished, Rosalind’s back ached.

  Th

  ankful they were fi nished, she smiled at Janet and

  Beth. “Th

  ank you for helping.”

  “‘Tis no trouble, Lady Rosalind,” Janet murmured.

  “Sleep well.”

  Th

  e maid’s comment made Rosalind realize how late

  it was. Oh, goodness! She’d completely forgotten about the

&nb
sp; salve for Lucien. Rosalind hesitated before deciding against

  returning. Lucien hadn’t wanted her to fuss over him. Per-

  haps tomorrow. A yawn escaped before she could contain it.

  Although she wished she were able to sink onto her bed and

  drift to sleep, she had things to do. Determination solidifi ed

  inside as she ushered the maids out. If it took her the rest of

  228

  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  the night, she intended to fi nd the secret passage that led

  from her room.

  Rosalind started at her chamber door and worked her

  way around to her bed. Each portion of the wall was exam-

  ined in minute detail. She tapped the walls, listening for a

  telltale hollowness. Even though logic told her she would

  fi nd the passage low, she dragged a chair over to the wall and

  stood on tiptoes to tap the wall above her head. Nothing.

  Rosalind doggedly continued her search, climbing up on the

  chair, scrambling back off . Still nothing. Rosalind frowned,

  biting her bottom lip in vexation. Her knuckles throbbed

  from the constant tapping, but she carried on. Th

  ere was a

  passage here. She knew it. Th

  ere was no other way for some-

  one to gain access to her room so easily. She paused mid-tap.

  Unless one of the maids was the culprit?

  Rosalind rocked back on her heels, considered the pos-

  sibility and discarded it. It would be diffi

  cult for one of the

  maids to spirit her clothes away and destroy her belongings

  without others seeing or being part of the plot.

  Th

  e search continued, Rosalind working while her mind

  twisted the puzzle, probing for answers.

  Th

  e dull, echoing thud did not register at fi rst. She stopped

  in front of a bureau. It looked heavy and unwieldy, but Rosa-

  lind was determined to make her search a thorough one. With

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  SHELLEY MUNRO

  a loud, unladylike grunt, she yanked at the bureau. It moved

  surprisingly easily considering the size. Rosalind paused to

  take a deep breath, grasped the corners fi rmly, and tugged

  again. Small rollers attached to the bottom of the furniture

  aided its quick and eff ortless movement. A draft, a whisper

  of wind ran across her face, tugging at tendrils of her hair.

  Rosalind gasped. Excitement pounded through her veins.

  Tiredness dropped away as she held a candle aloft to study the

  gaping hole in the wall where the bureau had stood.

  “Yes,” she whispered. Th

  e grin of success spread across

 

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