A Coven of Her own

by Saskia Walker

  “Cullen?” She took his hand and he looked at her as if he’d forgotten she were there. “Don’t you want to go inside?”

  “Yes, yes.” His tone was terse, but he gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I do, most definitely.”

  The tour group set off, moving along a red carpet walkway through the grand downstairs rooms at an agreeable pace, while the guide delivered a non-stop catalogue of facts with a superior expression on her face.

  Cullen’s gaze darted about the artifacts on display while he muttered to himself, catching the guide’s disapproving glance on more than one occasion. “Why are there ropes in front of the furnishings?” he whispered to Sunny.

  “To protect them from tourists,” she replied.

  “Hmm.”

  Sunny kept a close watch on him. His expression remained tense and disapproving until they entered the large parlor, where things rapidly deteriorated into sheer animosity between him and the guide.

  “As you’ll see, this room houses the collection of family portraits, including work by several masters of British art, depicting five generations of the Thaine family.”

  Sunny could feel annoyance emanating from him. It was building by the second. She turned to the painting he was staring at and her hand leapt to her mouth. Cullen’s image was there on the canvas. Much younger, a teenage boy, but it was him, undeniably.

  “Unfortunately, this particular work wasn’t dated by the artist,” announced the guide, “but we’ve had our experts look at it and it has been dated to the early 1790s.”

  “1788,” Cullen corrected.

  “I’m sorry, did you say something?” The guide quizzed him with a look of annoyance.

  “1788. The painting was done in 1788.”

  The tour guide stared at him for several moments, her lips fastened in a tight line. Then she turned away dismissively and directed the group’s attention away from the surly member of the troupe, and back to the painting.

  “The Thaine family depicted here are the third generation of the family to be residents in the house. They were responsible for extending the estates, and the generation with perhaps the most infamous Thaine family member.” She pointed up in the direction of the two young brothers, as if she wasn’t sure which one it was. “Cullen James Thaine, who—legend has it—was said to have become a notorious captain of high seas around the West Indies.”

  Captain? High seas? A wave of sheer panic hit Sunny. Did this mean he went back and continued with his plans to travel out to the Americas?

  “He was like the black sheep of the family, yes?” one of the other tourists offered, grinning at the idea of it.

  Sunny risked a glance at Cullen. He was shaking his head and casting looks of aspersion at the guide.

  “Yes indeed, Cullen Thaine was ‘like the black sheep,’ although I must stress it’s hearsay. Now, let’s move along, shall we?”

  Sunny’s mind was in turmoil. She took a last glance at the family portrait, attempting to commit to memory the image of his mother and father seated, with the two boys and their pretty young sisters standing around them, a hound at their feet.

  “Cullen, what do you think it means?”

  “It doesn’t mean anything. The woman clearly has no idea what she’s talking about.” He rolled his eyes.

  “But it could happen. I mean, if you went back, you don’t know what direction your life might take.”

  “That’s true enough,” he agreed as they followed the red carpet and turned toward the staircase leading up to the second stage of the tour.

  He was blatantly unconcerned about his future. Did that mean he’d already decided to return?

  Her blood raced. He was so nonchalant about it. How could he be like that? “Doesn’t it matter to you, what becomes of you? Of us?”

  He was craning his neck to look up at the top of the staircase but glanced away for a second to answer her. “Not right now, no, it doesn’t.”

  She swallowed. Her chest was tight with anxiety.

  The party began to mount the stairs, but he hung back, leaving a fair distance between them and the rest of the group.

  “But Cullen, I’m wondering if it’ll even be possible for you to go back. If Fox has his way, he’s sending you to a different world, not the past, you know.”

  “Yes, I had thought of that, my love. Let’s not talk about it here.”

  She felt wretched. In fact, she was heartbroken. She almost tripped on the Persian stair carpet. “But I don’t know if I’ll be able to fight him, truly. And in my heart I’m not sure I could wish for your return, should you want to go back, because I love you so much I can’t bear to be apart and that’s what counts, the ability to wish for it...”

  He ignored her, staring fixedly ahead as they arrived on the landing.

  Damn, he was going to leave her after all, she realized. He didn’t even want to hear her concerns. “Cullen?”

  She found herself jolted to a standstill.

  “One moment, my love.”

  He watched as the party ahead of them turned down the corridor, and then jerked his head in the other direction, toward a narrower, gloomier corridor.

  She had barely caught her breath and almost dropped her bag when he hauled her along behind him at sudden, breakneck speed.

  The corridor opened out into a smaller landing, and he stopped and dropped her hand.

  He strode back and forth along the wood paneled walls.

  She hitched her bag onto her shoulder, wishing she’d left it in the car. “Cullen, we’ve got to stick with the tour guide.”

  He ignored her.

  “What’s the matter? Why won’t you talk to me?”

  He turned and looked at her, attempting to focus on her for a moment. He reached over to her and drew her to him with a swift scoop of his arm. “One moment, my love, and you’ll have all my attention. I promise.” He kissed her quickly.

  Her body wavered when he freed her again.

  Icy fingers crept up her spine. Fox was near, she sensed it. Apparently she didn’t need the shadow of the raven to warn her anymore. His interest was warning enough.

  Her hackles rose, her blood pumping fast.

  “And keep an eye out for that damn harridan of a guide,” Cullen added. “If I’m caught doing this there’ll be trouble. They’ll claim what I’m looking for is theirs, but it’s never been part of this estate.”

  She was none the wiser about what he was up to, and panic was beginning to set in. Where had Eben and Rowena gone? Did they sense Fox’s presence too?

  Cullen stepped to the right, then to the left, dodging and shifting as he eyed the wood panels with consideration. He seemed to be counting the panels, and then he reached out to touch one panel with his hand. He rapped it with his knuckles, then the one next to it, taking a quick glance down the hallway to where the tour had gone. The rapping sound on the second panel was hollower.

  “I hope I get this right,” he murmured. He shut his eyes and put his head back as if appealing to the heavens. “Let it work.”

  Sunny stared in awe as he pressed the panel in the bottom left corner, applying pressure and watching with his eyes gleaming as the panel slowly squeaked opened and turned on a central axis.

  “Amazing,” he whispered. “It worked, even after all this time.” He reached into the open slot and withdrew a long leather wrap, as big as his forearm. “Look,” he said, blowing the dust off its surface and unrolling the bulging object against one arm.

  She watched, mesmerized, as he revealed the contents of the leather wrap and, on each turn, another clutch of jewels slid out of its folds. “I don’t understand, what is it?”

  “It was my mother’s.” He stared down at an exquisite necklace, his thoughts a million miles away. “My mother’s jewels, her inheritance.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, wondering what the hell would happen if the tour guide caught them.

  “My father didn’t want her to wear them,” Cullen continued. “He gave her muc
h more beautiful and valuable things, but to her, these jewels meant the world, they were her mother’s before her.” He looked at her, seeking her understanding, and his expression was heavy with emotion. “She showed them to me when I was a lad, maybe nine years old. I was the second son, I wouldn’t inherit all this.” He nodded up, indicating the house. “She wanted to hide these away for me, for my future...should I choose to make my own path...Sunny, this is for us.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s meant to be, all of this.”

  “But Cullen, this will belong to the owners of the house now.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” he argued. “We’ll share it, if that’s what you want, but my mother wanted me to give them to my woman, to my wife.”

  Wife? Her heart constricted as his words sank in.

  “I want you to be my wife.”

  “Wife?” She shook her head. “You mean you’ll stay with me?”

  He gave a disbelieving laugh. “Sunny love, there’s never been any doubt about that. Now, please, say you’ll be mine.”

  Sunny stared at him.

  “Say you’ll be mine,” he demanded.

  “But what about Celeste? The magic?”

  “I don’t care how it happened. She was right, we were meant to be together. I want you, forever.”

  Her heart bloomed with joy. “Yes. Yes, I’m yours, but Cullen...are you sure? Really sure? I couldn’t bear it if you changed your mind.”

  “I’m sure. Don’t fret.” He smoothed her hair back and she could see the deep, honest contentment in his expression. “Fox can’t keep us apart if we are betrothed.”

  Sunny shook her head. “I’m afraid we have to be realistic. It won’t matter to Fox.” Inwardly, she groaned. Cullen’s intentions were pure and loyal, but it would mean diddly-squat to Fox, and if her senses were to be relied upon, he wasn’t far away.

  She was about to say more, to warn him, but the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor toward them. I’m not ready, she thought frantically, fearing it would be the viscount.

  The guide appeared around a corner, hunting them down.

  Reluctantly, Cullen’s gaze lifted from hers, his eyebrows drawing down and his expression growing guarded. He quickly folded the leather sleeve closed and set it down on a nearby table, hiding it behind a lamp, his other hand pressing the wood panel shut on its axis, forcing it at the last when it grew stiff and unwilling to lie flat.

  Sunny watched as the secret panel closed and became an integral part of the wall again.

  Cullen’s expression changed as the tour guide marched up to them and he acknowledged her presence.

  The guide didn’t seem to notice the jewel wrap.

  Sunny figured Cullen was right when he said it wasn’t the property of the Heritage House consortium—it wouldn’t be on their purchase inventory, for a start. But it would be a tough case to argue, especially when the man who claimed rights to the goods said he was from the early eighteen-hundreds.

  “I’m sorry, madam, did we drop behind? We were just admiring the wonderful woodwork.” He grinned widely at the guide. “I do love a good bit of paneling.” He patted the wood with one hand.

  The tour guide gave him a dubious look, folding her arms with a disapproving glance.

  “Come along, my love,” he added. “We mustn’t miss out on our guide’s amusing anecdotes.”

  Sunny felt nauseous. Panic had set in. Had she done the wrong thing keeping Cullen in the dark about her plans for Fox? It was too late now.

  The guide forced a tight smile. “You really can’t fall out of the guided tour, you might miss something important. Now, do I have your full attention?”

  “Madam, for the rest of the tour, my lady betrothed and I are all yours.”

  The guide turned away, apparently satisfied, and disappeared back down the corridor.

  He rested his head against Sunny’s hair and whispered, “Then you’re all mine.”

  A desperate sense of fate and a wave of loss loomed closer, swamping her. “No, Cullen.” She shook her head vehemently. “You mustn’t think of me as such, and you cannot assume pushing through with chivalry will solve our situation!”

  “You told me you loved me,” he responded, his eyebrows gathering.

  “And I do, but we aren’t yet free of our obligations, nor will we be until I have dealt with Fox.”

  Cullen glowered. “I forbid it. I’ll deal with him. It’s my job to protect you, witch or no witch.”

  She stared at him, aghast. “Cullen, you have a lot to learn about modern women, let alone witches!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Cullen wished he could swallow his words. His actions had been heavy-handed, his intentions badly timed.

  Of course Sunny didn’t need his protection. He’d learnt that much about her very quickly. She was a fierce woman. Aside from her witchcraft, she was wholly independent. He didn’t blame her for getting annoyed with his actions. Hot headed and idiotic, he’d lumbered in like a fool.

  He was about to reassure her he did understand, when her eyes rounded and she stared over his shoulder.

  She whispered low and urgently to him beneath her breath. “Remember what I said, Cullen. No matter what, I don’t want anyone else. Remember!”

  With that, she put her hand firmly to his chest and pushed him aside. “Take your trinkets and shove them,” she declared loudly.

  Turning to follow her gaze, Cullen saw Nathaniel Fox was lounging in one of the winged velvet armchairs behind the braided rope meant to keep tourists away from the furnishings. Sunny said the ropes were meant to keep the most precious possessions safe from visitors, yet there was Nathaniel, bold as brass, lording it over the place. Not only that, the scoundrel had a vindictive smile on his face and laughter in his eyes.

  “Do I sense discord between the precious lovebirds?” Nathaniel asked.

  “How perceptive you are, Viscount,” Sunny responded and clapped her hands together as if in glee. “And what a delight it is to finally see you again.”

  Nathaniel studied her a moment, then responded with apparent caution. “You have been anticipating our reunion?”

  “Counting the moments,” she said in a breathy voice, and tossed back her mane of ringlets.

  Cullen’s mood darkened as Sunny sidled over to Nathaniel, moving the way she had the night she danced with him in the cottage, her hips swaying from side to side in a seductive rhythm.

  Nathaniel raised an eyebrow, his gaze following the agile movement of her hips.

  Cullen could hardly blame him, but if she was doing this for Fox, he would not stand for it. His hand automatically moved to the dagger at his belt.

  Sunny glanced his way as she strolled past him and gave an imperceptible shake of her head.

  A firm hand gripped his right shoulder.

  Cullen glanced back, withdrawing the dagger from his belt as he did so. His gaze met Eben’s steely one.

  Eben shook his head. “Let her be.”

  Through the hand on his shoulder Cullen felt an immense surge of power. It was soothing, yet left him oddly fixed to the spot. He didn’t understand why Eben was holding him, and wondered briefly if this was why Eben had been there these past few days. Had Eben and Sunny planned for this moment?

  Try as he might, he could not pull away from Eben’s grip.

  Returning her attention to Nathaniel, Sunny rested one hand on her hip. “About time, too,” she said silkily. “I was just about to give up on you, Viscount.”

  Nathaniel raised his eyebrows. “It is the thirtieth day, is it not?”

  “It is.” She pouted provocatively, her cherry-painted lips an invitation no man could resist. “But I’ve been getting bored waiting for you.”

  Satisfaction swelled from Nathaniel, drawing contempt from Cullen.

  “Is that a fact?” Nathaniel drawled. “Yet you fought so valiantly to keep Cullen by your side for thirty days. Surely he hasn’t bored you?”

  “
He had his uses,” she responded in a glib manner. “Meanwhile, I’ve learnt all about the Master of Raven’s Landing, and I confess my appetite has been whetted.” She cocked her head on one side.

  Nathaniel continued to assess her. “No doubt Celeste’s poisoned your mind.”

  “Perhaps that was her intention, but please credit me with some intelligence and independence of mind.” She shrugged and allowed her lashes to flutter down, then up again, looking at him with a coy but beckoning expression. “I have a lot learn, and I’m quite sure you’re the master to learn under...I mean, beneath.” She giggled, and then strolled around him, examining him as if he was on offer to her.

  Cullen’s blood boiled.

  Eben’s hand was still on his shoulder. He was held to the spot as surely as if he had been ransacked by rope and gagged.

  “Oh my, and there I was expecting weeping and wailing and heartbreak. You are full of delightful surprises. Sunny Chambers, am I to assume you offer yourself willingly as my apprentice?”

  Sunny nodded. “I believe I demonstrated my burgeoning talents to you thirty days ago, and if I’m not mistaken, you were intrigued enough to strike a deal?”

  Nathaniel inclined his head.

  “Since then I’ve picked up various...shall we say ‘skills’ from the folk in Raven’s Landing who are blessed by magic, but I find myself easily bored and wish to move on. You, I understand, are the master. I could learn a lot from you.” She arched her beautiful eyebrows, her lips pursed as she boldly met his gaze.

  Cullen wrestled with his emotions. She’d said she’d do anything to save him from the dark tides—to save him from Nathaniel’s proposed destiny—but not this. Not this! He couldn’t allow her to give herself to Nathaniel in order to save his sorry soul.

  “It’s rather refreshing to discover you’re not an indecisive sort. We’ll quickly come to understand one another.”

  “Don’t you want me to show you what I can already do?”