The Complete 1st Freak House Trilogy: Box set (The 1st Freak House Trilogy)

by C. J. Archer

  "We're off to London," Sylvia announced, going to her uncle's side. "Isn't that marvelous?"

  Langley narrowed his eyes at her. "Whose idea is that?"

  "Mine," Jack said. He repeated his reasons for going.

  Tommy entered before he'd finished. The footman balanced a silver salver on one gloved hand. It held a single letter from what I could see. His gaze was almost as blank as Bollard's, but he didn't ignore us like the mute. He looked at each of us in turn, finally settling on Sylvia standing nearby. I was sure she hadn't noticed, until her head tilted in what could only be described as defiance. What was going on between those two? I hoped she hadn't offended him again. She could be awful to poor Tommy sometimes.

  "All of you are going?" Langley looked directly at me as he asked.

  "Yes," I said. "Why should I miss out on all the fun?" The silence that followed was like a noose around my neck. The unspoken 'Because you need to rest' was as much a sentence as the fire that was killing me. If I had limited days left, I wanted to spend them with my friends. My loved ones. I looked to Jack.

  He closed his eyes, but not before I saw the pain in them. "She's coming because I can't leave her here."

  Langley nodded once, but did not seem convinced.

  "Why are you so hesitant to let me go?" I spoke levelly, challenging him. Langley and I had not had the most harmonious relationship. Secrets and lies had damaged it from the start, some of which were mine, I was sorry to admit. In an odd way, our lack of affection for one another meant we could speak our minds. I think Langley even appreciated it.

  "I'm at the testing phase," he said.

  Sylvia gasped then covered her mouth with her hand.

  Jack took a step toward Langley. "What sort of testing are you talking about?"

  "Not the sort you're thinking of," Langley said.

  Everybody, including me, exhaled. I had assumed that Langley was going to use me as a subject in the same way that Tate wanted to. Tate's plans involved injecting me with drugs he'd developed to see if any of them cured me of my fire starting. He gave no guarantees that they wouldn't kill me.

  "I simply need some samples of Hannah's blood," Langley said.

  Sylvia screwed up her face. "Do we have to discuss this here and now?"

  "Will it hurt?" Jack asked.

  "A mere pricking of her skin," Langley said. "It may sting for a moment, but that's all."

  A sound of disgust gurgled from Sylvia's throat.

  "And how is the blood removed from my body?" I asked.

  Sylvia placed her hands on her stomach. She'd gone quite green. "Excuse me." She ran out of the room. Tommy set the salver down on a nearby table and slipped out after her.

  "I'll use a syringe." Langley unfolded the thick white cloth on the tray in his lap, revealing a slender cylinder made of glass with bronze ends. I suddenly wanted to follow Sylvia.

  "It looks worse than it feels," Samuel said, coming to my side.

  I swallowed. "That's good because it looks rather barbaric."

  "I've used them in my studies. If it makes you feel better, you may hold my hand while he does it."

  I sat back down on the sofa and turned to Jack. He raked his hand through his hair, down the side of his face and over his jaw. I thought he would say something, but he didn't. The look he gave me said all the things I knew he wanted to say: It should be me holding your hand.

  "Thank you, Samuel," I said, "but I'll be all right."

  Samuel gave Jack a nod as if he knew what he was thinking. He stepped away from me.

  "Stay near her, Gladstone," Langley ordered Samuel. "You'll need to catch her if she faints."

  "I can assure you I'm not the fainting sort, Mr. Langley."

  "All women are the fainting sort. It's part of your constitution."

  I wanted to share my frustration with Jack, but he wasn't looking at me. He stood by the window, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes downcast. I could just see one of his hands from where I sat on the sofa. It was clenched in a tight fist.

  "Forward, Bollard," Langley intoned. The servant wheeled him toward me. "Roll up your sleeve, Hannah."

  The sleeve on my dress was fitted from shoulder to elbow with a soft ruffle falling from elbow to wrist. I pushed it up as far as it would go.

  "Present your arm, palm up."

  I did and watched as he prepared the syringe. I was rather mesmerized by the process…until he stuck the needle into me.

  "Ow!" It was more the shock of the needle pricking my skin than any real pain.

  "Hannah?" Jack was suddenly by my side.

  "It's quite all right." I gave him a smile which hopefully he thought was genuine. "It didn't hurt a bit."

  "Then why did you say 'ow'?"

  "A figure of speech."

  He scowled, but the needle was already out. It was full of my blood.

  "Do you feel faint?" Samuel asked, handing me his handkerchief. I pressed it to the drop of blood marking the spot where the needle had entered.

  "Not in the least." No more than usual anyway.

  Jack held the lace ruffled of my sleeve away from the spot. "Do you wish to lie down?"

  "I've just gotten up!"

  "Nevertheless, you should stay seated for a few minutes," Langley said. "Bollard."

  The servant seemed to need no instructions. He took the handles of the wheelchair and began pushing Langley out of the room.

  "Wait," I called after them. Bollard stopped and swiveled the chair so Langley could see me. "What happens now?"

  "Now I perform some tests on this." Langley indicated the syringe on the tray in his lap.

  "How long will that take?"

  "It depends on the results."

  I gritted my teeth and tried again. "Are you making progress?"

  "Somewhat."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It means I've made some progress."

  The man was being evasive just to vex me. I was certain of it. "How much? Do you think you're on the path to finding a cure?"

  "Hannah, be patient."

  "Patient!" The word exploded from my lips. "How can I be patient at a time like this? In case you haven't noticed, I'm dying, Mr. Langley."

  "Calm down," he snapped.

  Samuel's hand rested on my shoulder. I shrugged it off. "I apologize if my hysteria bothers you, but I find it difficult to maintain composure when my life may end in a matter of days." Hot blood thumped through my veins like a raging torrent. My hands suddenly felt like they were on fire and before I could stop it, a spark shot from my fingertip.

  Samuel stamped it out before it could burn the rug. My temper dampened instantly. I didn't want to set fire to the house. I'd already done that once, and the consequences were still visible. Besides, it made me sweat in uncomfortable places and weaken further. I flapped my hand near my face until Jack fetched the latest copy of the Young Ladies Journal and took over the flapping for me.

  "It isn't a matter of days," Langley said with a sigh. "You'll have a few weeks yet, I'm sure."

  "How can you be sure? For all we know, Tate may already be dead. I won't be far behind, will I?" I couldn't control the words. They flowed out of me, propelled by frustration and anxiety.

  "We can't know that," Langley said quietly.

  "Precisely! We can't know anything." I stood, unsure what I wanted to do. Perhaps shake him until the formula for a cure fell out of his head, or simply get the point across that I was desperate, in case he couldn't tell from the high pitch of my voice.

  But all I did was sit back down on the sofa again as dizziness swamped me.

  "Hannah." Jack's voice, close to my ear, rumbled low and deep in his chest. It soothed me somewhat. "Breathe." I closed my eyes and drew air into my lungs several times before the dizziness faded.

  "Put your head down," Samuel said, pressing his cool hand to the back of my neck and forcing me to lean forward.

  I obeyed even though the position felt awkward, particularly with the tigh
t waist of my gown restricting movement. Thank goodness I'd eschewed corsets of late.

  "Forgive me," I muttered into my skirt. "I shouldn't have spoken like that. I appreciate everything you're doing for me, Mr. Langley."

  "He's gone, Hannah." Jack sounded almost apologetic. "It's all right. He knows you're upset. He won't take it to heart."

  "Is that because he doesn't have a heart?" I couldn't resist the jest. Then I burst into tears.

  "Hannah," he murmured. He didn't say anything else, nor did he have to. His solid presence was enough. It was reassuring having him by my side, taking care of me, worrying about me. It made me feel like I was the most precious thing in the world.

  My breathing finally calmed and the heat and dizziness subsided. I sat up and noticed that Samuel had left too. Jack and I were alone on the sofa together. He gave me an uncertain smile.

  "I'll fetch you something to drink," he said.

  "I'm all right. Stay with me a few moments." We sat side by side without speaking. Although I wasn't looking at him, I could feel his gaze on me. He was probably worried that I was going to faint.

  "I forgot to ask Langley if he needs me to stay here instead of going to London," I said, breaking the silence. "He might want to perform more tests."

  "I'll ask him, but I'm sure he doesn't. He would have said so."

  "I know. But I'd like to be certain. I wouldn't want to delay his work."

  "I'll remain too if you're staying. I'm not going anywhere without you."

  "Thank you, Jack. You're wonderful."

  He blushed, which I found adorably sweet. "Do me a favor and tell Sylvia that. It'll irritate her no end to hear it."

  I laughed. "Speaking of Sylvia, I'd better see if she's all right."

  We walked together and parted company outside Langley's door. Jack knocked and went in while I continued along the corridor to Sylvia's room. I was about to put fist to wood when the door opened. Tommy stood there, gawping at me. He looked quite horrified to have been caught in a place he certainly should not have been.

  "Tommy!" I was so surprised to see him that I stared back, lost for words.

  "I, uh…Miss Smith. I was just…" He shut his mouth and swallowed heavily. Clearly I wasn't the only one lost for words.

  The door widened and Sylvia appeared. Her face was flushed, and her eyes sparkled like sapphires. "I was feeling unwell, and Tommy came to see if I needed anything." She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, and avoided my gaze. "Thank you for the offer of tea, Tommy, but I'm quite all right now." She opened the door wider. "You may go."

  "Um…"

  "Go!"

  He slipped past me. I stared after him as he walked down the corridor. I wanted to see if he looked back, but Sylvia dragged me into the room. She shut the door and leaned back against it.

  "Sylvia? Are you quite all right? You look—" I was going to say unwell, but that wasn't quite true. "Troubled. What was Tommy really doing here?"

  She pushed off from the door and threw herself on her bed. She reclined on her side and tucked her slippered feet up. "I told you. He followed me here to see if I needed anything."

  Since when did that require him entering her bedroom and shutting the door? I found the whole situation utterly confounding. She wouldn't allow anything of an intimate nature to happen, not with a servant. The very thought would be abhorrent to her. Yet that was how it appeared. Very curious.

  "But Sylvia—"

  "I don't want to discuss it any further," she bit off. "Let's talk about other things. Better things. Like London and the ball. I cannot wait to dance with a real gentlemen."

  "Samuel is a real gentleman. You've danced with him in practice."

  She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Yes, of course he is. I meant real, normal gentlemen. Ones who don't mesmerize women."

  "Samuel is a hypnotist not a mesmerist, and he's equally capable of hypnotizing men as well as women. Any mesmerizing of ladies is purely due to his charming nature."

  She was no longer listening. Her gaze had grown distant, unfocused. She lay back against the pillows and sighed deeply.

  "Jack has gone to ask your uncle if I need to stay at Frakingham for more tests," I said. "Shall we wait until we have his answer or start packing?"

  "Hmmm. Yes. I'll join you in a moment."

  I gave a little shake of my head and left her. So much for Sylvia being the open book of the household. It would appear she was as capable of being as mysterious as anyone.

  ***

  Nightfall came early in December. It gave Jack and me the opportunity to walk to the lake together before dinner without being seen. Not that I cared, but I knew Sylvia did. I told Jack about her strange response to being discovered with Tommy in her room. I thought he might be outraged. As her cousin, he had every right to be. But he seemed curious about their secret meetings when I told him.

  "Do you think they're having a dalliance?"

  "Sylvia and Tommy?" He laughed, his breath a frosty puff in the freezing air. "I doubt it. I can't imagine Tommy wanting to be in the company of someone who looks down on him as much as she does. Sylvia can't stand him unless he's saving her life or bringing her tea."

  "You're right. It is absurd." I dismissed the idea. Whatever they were doing, it was not what Jack and I did when we were in the lake together. "So what did Langley say?"

  "He won't need any more blood from you for a few days. He said we should go to London."

  "Oh? Does that mean he's had a breakthrough with the tests he performed today?"

  "I don't know." His voice was thin, drawn out. "You know what he's like. He gives nothing away."

  We reached the lake's edge and shed our shoes on a grassy patch. The mist hadn't had the chance to burn off during the day, and it became thicker now that the air had turned even colder. It clung to the inky lake surface like a spectral blanket in the moonlight.

  I set my pack of dry clothes down, and Jack did the same with his pack. I already wore my bathing costume beneath my coat. Sylvia had helped me fashion one from an old shift and pair of men's trousers. It was quite a hideous outfit, hence the coat I'd thrown around me to hide it, but it was more practical in the water than skirts. Jack wore shirt and trousers, held up with suspenders.

  Clouds passed across the moon, but I could still make out his silhouette. He held his hand out toward the lake and bowed. "Your bath awaits, Miss Smith."

  "Why, thank you, sir. Shall we?"

  My toes squelched in the mud that soon gave way to pebbles. The icy water soothed my skin, deliciously soothing. I stood still for a moment and sighed with contentment. It made me realize how hot and uncomfortable I'd been in the house.

  As soon as we were hip-deep, Jack touched my elbow. Heat flared, but there were no sparks. He guided me in further, holding me in case I slipped on the rocks. As soon as the water reached his waist and my breasts, he drew me close.

  He kissed me without words or warning. It was a tender kiss, filled with longing and sadness that made my heart ache. I pressed my hands to the back of his head, keeping him there, right where I wanted him. My nipples peaked beneath my damp shift and brushed against his hard body. He sucked air between his teeth, and I knew he wanted to touch me there, as I wanted to touch him. But we couldn't. From previous experiments, we knew deeper intimacy would cause my heat to reach unbearable levels. The risk was too great, which was why we'd decided to keep our clothes on. Even Jack's shirt was a necessity. The sight of his broad shoulders and muscles was enough to set my fever rising.

  "I've missed you," he said, stopping the kiss before the heat became too much. He did not pull away entirely. We'd found that we could hold one another for a long time. It wasn't enough for either of us to be completely satisfied, but it was better than nothing.

  "We were in the lake only last night," I said, smiling against his lips.

  "Too long ago. I want to be with you all the time, and not just here." He kissed me lightly and retreated a little. I wished I co
uld see his eyes, but it was too dark to see more than their shine. I did know he was watching me. "I want to lie in your arms, Hannah, and feel your skin against mine. I want to make you mine in every way."

  "I am yours," I said, breathless. "Always."

  He kissed me again, harder. All our frustrations and sorrow poured out of us in that kiss. I couldn't get enough of him, nor he of me. I wanted him closer, wanted all of him, in the most carnal way possible. It was wrong—my thoughts were not at all appropriate for a pure young lady—yet I didn't care. All I could think about was claiming Jack and being claimed by him.

  A surge of heat suddenly blasted from my hands. Jack's body jerked with the shock and he fell back. Water splashed in my eyes. I blinked and rubbed them. When my vision cleared, Jack was nowhere to be seen.

  CHAPTER 3

  "Jack?" I called out. No answer. No splashes. "Jack!" I stepped forward, reaching under the inky black water, searching.

  Nothing.

  I took another step, another. Surely the blast hadn't propelled him so far away from me. Oh God, where was he? My heart pounded in my chest. My throat tightened. I tried to scream his name, but it came out as a sob.

  My hands dug through the water, feeling around. But there was only the endless, empty lake.

  I slipped on a rock and slid under the surface, but did not stop searching. He had to be here somewhere, unconscious. The alternative was too horrible.

  Combustion.

  I paddled as best as I could, using feet and arms to feel for him. The lake's icy fingers wrapped around my chest and squeezed. I'd never felt colder.

  I touched something. Hair! A head and body too! I grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him up. I listened for breathing, but it was difficult to hear anything over my own ragged breaths. "Jack? Jack?" I thumped his back in the hope that would clear his airways, but in truth, I didn't know what to do.