by C. J. Archer
"Hannah!" Sylvia leapt out of her chair and drew me into a hug. "You're awake! Let me look at you." She held my hands and surveyed me from head to toe. "You look wonderful. Just wonderful. Your skin is glowing, although I'm afraid you still have freckles."
I laughed. "I think those are permanent."
"Good," Jack said quietly, joining us. "Because I adore every one of them." He kissed me gently on the forehead.
"Come and eat," Samuel said.
Everyone was there. Even Langley sat in his wheelchair, eating eggs. Bollard and Tommy stood by the sideboard. Both nodded greetings at me and smiled.
To my utter dismay, tears filled my eyes. This was my family. This odd collection of people from vastly different backgrounds meant the world to me. I loved every one of them.
"What can I get you to eat, Miss Smith?" Tommy asked.
"Nothing. You don't serve breakfast."
"Today I do." He wouldn't hear of me filling my own plate, so I told him to pile it with whatever he thought looked good. I was starving.
He set the plate down in front of me, and Bollard passed me a cup of steaming tea. I sipped, scalding my lip.
"Too hot?" Samuel said, chuckling.
I ate while they chatted and finished up their breakfast. Jack spoke little. His attention hardly wavered from me. I felt self-conscious at first, but grew used to it. Indeed, I rather liked being the focus of his attention. It was a thrill to know he cared so much for me that he couldn't take his eyes off me. To my surprise, it didn't seem to bother Langley in the least.
I finished my breakfast and accepted a refill of tea from Tommy. "Mr. Langley," I said over the rim of the cup, "did you ever stop looking for a cure?"
"Never," he said. "Not since Jack has been living with me, but it only became urgent when you came here, Hannah. With your training a failure, you were never going to be able to control the fire."
"And then when we discovered Tate was dying…" I said. "Finding a cure became more urgent still."
"Fortunately I was already some way along the path to discovering it."
"Yes. Fortunate," I echoed, setting the teacup down. I swallowed and tried to smile my thanks. Once again I was aware how inadequate words were at such a time. How did you thank someone for saving your life?
Jack's hand covered mine. It was warm and I slipped off my glove so that I could feel his skin on mine. Again, Langley made no comment about our intimacy.
"Why did you try to keep Jack and I apart?" My question may have been blunt, but he seemed prepared for it. They all did. Indeed, nobody seemed surprised, and I wondered if they'd been discussing that very thing before my arrival.
"I was worried about Jack," Langley said. "And you. You saw what happened when you were together. It was disastrous. Dangerous. You had to be kept separate for your own good, or…" He wiped the back of his finger across his upper lip. "You know what would have happened."
"So you did it to protect us." It was rather ironic. What was the point of being protected when I couldn't be with Jack? "You shouldn't have tried so hard."
Jack's fingers tightened around my own. I didn't dare look at him, or I might have burst into tears.
"Love can be fleeting," Langley said, avoiding my gaze.
"Some love. Not all. Not ours."
"That may be, but you must understand that you were my responsibility. You both were. If I had to save you from yourselves, then I would try."
I frowned, not fully understanding. Bollard shifted behind his master, beckoning my attention with his hands. He pressed them both over his heart then pointed at Jack. His lips flattened and he looked to Langley then Jack with sympathy and love and I finally understood. Langley cared for Jack as his own son. He would do anything to keep him safe. Perhaps that also explained why he'd not told Jack that Wade was his father. He was worried that Jack would reject him and wish to get to know his real parent.
I sat, stunned. Langley might be selfish, but he had the capacity to love, even if he had a terrible way of showing it. To be fair, there had been small telltale signs. He'd given Jack enormous responsibility in managing the estate and worked furiously to find a cure for me. Because he cared for me, or because I was what Jack wanted?
Bollard touched his chest again. This time he didn't point at anyone in particular, but spread out his hands, encompassing Sylvia and me, Tommy and Samuel too. Was he implying that Langley loved us all?
"That's enough, Bollard," Langley said without turning around. There was no anger in his tone, no real admonishment. "I think what my valet is trying to tell you is that it's my duty to do what's best for you, and sometimes what's best is not what you want."
Bollard rolled his eyes and tapped his chest again. I smiled. I understood completely. His master was simply too proud to admit that he loved us.
"Hannah is best for me," Jack said. "You need to understand that, August, or I can't stay here."
"I do understand it, after…" He half-turned in his chair. To see Bollard? "After it was explained to me in no uncertain terms."
"You were never going to stop looking for a cure for me, were you?" I asked.
He stared down at his empty plate, his hands flat on the table on either side of it.
"What made you think he would?" Jack asked, his voice low and ominous. "August?"
"I overheard him tell Samuel. Mr. Langley, you told him if he couldn't drive Jack and me apart, then you were going to tell me you were stopping your research."
Langley settled back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach. "You overheard that, did you?"
"I don't believe it," Jack growled.
"I wasn't going to stop," Langley said. "It was a threat only. One I would never have followed through, I might add."
"That doesn't make it right!"
"Jack, it doesn't matter now," I said. "He did it to keep us apart, something he thought was in our best interests. It's what any good uncle would do. Or father."
"I'm not so sure about that," Jack said, gruff. He did not take his eyes off Langley, and Langley did not meet his gaze in return.
He stretched his neck and cleared his throat. "Enough of this. We've notes to write up, Bollard. Hannah, rest today. Tonight is Christmas Eve, and I believe Sylvia has a feast in store." He beckoned Bollard to wheel him away.
"I'll rest in the carriage," I said.
"Where are you going?" Sylvia asked.
"To Windamere. Jack and I have some things to discuss with Lord Wade, and I prefer to do it today. I want to enjoy my first Christmas at Frakingham, and I can't do that when there are still things to be resolved."
"Very well," said Langley. "Be sure to take blankets for warmth, and borrow Sylvia's fur coat."
I laughed. It seemed absurd to be worried about the cold, but I needed to get used to it. I would have to suffer through winters just like everybody else now.
"Is that it?" Sylvia asked her uncle as he was wheeled from the dining room. "You're not going to send me or Samuel to keep an eye on them?"
"Sylvia, my dear, I won't be stopping them from being together ever again, and I suggest you do the same. Besides, I rather think propriety no longer matters." His eyes twinkled at Jack. Above him, Bollard smiled, then he wheeled Langley out of the dining room.
***
It was bliss to be alone with Jack finally. He sat opposite me in the cabin of the coach, our knees inches apart. As soon as the Frakingham estate gates were behind us, I closed the curtains and patted the seat beside me.
He arched an eyebrow and didn't move. "I'm quite sure it would be inappropriate for me to get any closer to you," he said, a teasing smile on his lips.
"And I'm quite sure that I don't care about doing what's appropriate."
He leaned forward and placed his hands flat on the seat on either side of my hips. Trapping me. His natural heat infused me with warmth, his power sent a thrill down my spine.
"Hannah." My name was a hum on the air, full of desire and promises of what was
to come. "My Hannah." A vein throbbed in his throat above his collar, and his lips twitched.
I placed my hands on his face and caressed the curve of his mouth with my thumbs, trying to capture his perfection.
He groaned low in his chest, a plaintive, aching growl of need.
I kissed him. It was slow and tender, full of our relief at being able to kiss and touch without fear. Perfect. So utterly perfect. I didn't think it possible to feel so much happiness. We took our time, exploring one another, relishing the sheer sweetness and joy, the beauty of simply being together.
But I needed to taste more of him. Needed to feel and hold him, have him. I pushed him back and sat on his lap. He groaned and folded me into his arms. I placed my hand to his chest. The hard muscles shuddered and twitched, and beneath them, his heart beat a steady rhythm.
"Jack," I murmured against his lips. "I want you. Take me."
He groaned again and pulled away, breaking the kiss entirely. "No."
I frowned. "Why not?"
He pressed his forehead to mine and heaved a sigh. "Because I'll not let your first time be in a coach."
"But—"
He pressed his finger to my lips. His other arm tightened around my waist. "God knows, I want you with every piece of me. I ache for you, Hannah. I want to claim you in every way possible. And I will. But not here. We're going to do it properly." He removed his finger and kissed me lightly. "Be patient, my sweet. We have time."
I pouted. "I'm not sure I want to wait."
He set me back on the other seat. "Believe me when I tell you it's not easy for me either. Being alone with you, kissing you and not taking you completely, is damn near torture. Best if you stay over there and just talk to me."
"Talk?" I folded my arms and gave him an innocent smile. "Let's see. I know. How about I tell you all the things I want you to do to me?"
His gaze turned smoldering, smoky. "You don't play fair."
I kept smiling.
"On the other hand," he said, "we could talk about all the places I'm going to show you."
I gasped. "We're going to travel?"
His eyes twinkled. "Would you like to?"
"Oh yes. Yes, please." Of course, I had to kiss him again to show him how much I liked the idea.
***
Windamere was exactly the same as when I'd left it, a perfect, symmetrical house set in a perfect, symmetrical garden. Not an arch or turret in sight. I looked up at the attic windows. The curtains were shut, something only ever done at night when I lived there.
A face appeared at one of the second floor windows, but quickly disappeared. Eudora, Vi's half-sister. I wondered if she recognized me.
Pearson the butler opened the door. He fell back and gasped when he saw me.
"Hello, Pearson," I said. "Have you been well?"
"I, er, I…"
"Is Lord Wade home?" Of course he would be. It was Christmas Eve, the one day of the year he was always sure to spend with his wife and child. Children. He was spending it with Vi now too.
"Hannah!" Violet called from the staircase. Eudora must have told her of our arrival. She ran down the stairs, laughing. "Hannah, it's so good to see you."
I smiled and accepted her kiss on my cheek. My feelings where Vi was concerned were still conflicted. We would never return to our easy friendship from the attic, but that was understandable. I'd changed, and she probably had too.
Her gaze slid to Jack and she curtsied. He bowed and asked after Lord Wade.
"Pearson, fetch him," Vi said to the butler. She had indeed changed. She never used to speak to him directly. The very thought would wreck her nerves.
"Is Miss Levine here?" I asked as we waited. "I'd so like to see her. I'm sure she'd want to see how I'm getting along too, don't you think?"
"Oh, believe me, she knows. Father made sure to tell her how well you turned out, right before he severed her employment."
"He did?"
She chewed her bottom lip, but it didn't stop her smile. "I feel rather wicked, considering who she is to me," she whispered. "But I can't help it. I'm glad she's gone."
Pearson returned and bowed again. "His lordship will meet you in the library, Miss Smith."
"You'll have to show me where that is," I said. "I'm afraid I haven't a clue."
We left Vi and followed Pearson up the stairs and into a room smelling of leather and cigar smoke. The walls were lined with books, and a desk commanded a spectacular view over the lawn. Lord Wade sat in one of the deep armchairs gathered around the fire. He indicated we should sit as Pearson backed out of the room and shut the door.
Once, sitting so close to an open fire would have been too hot for me, but not anymore. It didn't bother Jack at all. The heat had never affected him to the same extent it had me.
"I thought we'd said everything we had to say to one another," Wade said. "What is it you want?"
"Is that any way to speak to your ward?" Jack said idly.
"I wasn't speaking to her. I was speaking to you."
"In that case," I cut in, "it's certainly no way to speak to your only son."
Wade's jowls wobbled, his face paled. "Who else have you told?"
"No one," Jack said. "Your secret is safe. I want as little to do with you as you do with me."
"I never said that."
"You didn't have to. Your actions have spoken far louder than your words." Jack seemed remarkably calm, almost amused at Lord Wade's discomfort. But if one looked closely enough, one could see that he was holding himself very still, as if he were keeping tight rein on his temper.
"I reiterate," Wade said. "What is it you want?"
"Answers. We're not leaving until we get them."
Wade rubbed his forehead and sighed. "Very well. I'm ready to tell you what I know. I think it's what your mother would want." He pressed his finger and thumb into his eyes. "Her name was Hannah Smith. She was happy when she fell pregnant with you. She wanted to have you very much."
He paused, perhaps waiting for Jack to say something, but Jack was silent. He stared at his father, hardly even breathing. It was left to me to ask the questions.
"Tell us about her," I said. "Where did she come from?"
"From another realm." He lifted his heavy-lidded gaze to Jack's. "She was a demon."
Jack's nostrils flared. His chest rose and fell with a sudden deep breath. "Who summoned her?"
"That's the thing. She wasn't summoned. She was sent by the authorities to our realm. One of their kind came here to escape their justice system. He was a criminal, sentenced to death there. She arrived, weakened and hungry, and consumed a gypsy girl whose people had squatted nearby on the land neighboring the estate. She took on the girl's appearance, then came here to the house, begging for work and food." She told me her name was Hannah Smith, but I found out much later that she'd chosen it on a whim.
"That doesn't sound like demon behavior," I said. "By all accounts they're rather mindless and need controlling by their summoner."
"She wasn't summoned. She was sent. The two modes of arrival cause a difference in behavior. She'd been trained to survive here and knew what to expect. Indeed, it was her third visit to our realm. She knew our ways, our language. Her kind didn't want to inflict harm on us, in general, and it was their policy to eat what we eat, do what we do, in order to survive and blend in on the occasions they had to come here. Summoned demons, on the other hand, have no control over themselves and cannot make the same decisions."
"So you fed and housed her," I said. "That's commendable of you."
"I…took a liking to her. She was very beautiful."
"Did you know what she was?"
"Not a clue then. Not for months. We became lovers. She stayed here, convinced her quarry was in the vicinity, but…" He studied his fingers, clasped loosely in his lap.
"But?" Jack prompted.
"I suspect she wasn't interested in leaving. She liked it here. She liked me. When she told me she was carrying my child, I made pl
ans to install her as my permanent mistress."
"How noble of you," Jack sneered.
"Don't be a fool," Wade snapped. "I couldn't marry her. She was nobody. To all the world, she was just a gypsy girl."
Jack turned away and stared into the flickering flames in the grate.
"It was only then that she told me what she was and why she was here," Wade went on. "I was…stunned. I thought her mad until she showed me what she was capable of. She could set things on fire like you." He nodded at Jack. "She was fast and strong too. Not at all normal. I had no choice but to believe the evidence and accept her for what she was."
"Mr. Langley said she died giving birth to Jack," I said.
"She died of child-bed fever. She was still exhausted after the birth, and it took her swiftly." He cleared his throat and looked away, but not before I saw the sad twist of his mouth, the rapid blinking. This man, who cared for few people, had cared for Jack's mother.
I sighed and as the breath left my body, so did any lingering anger I felt toward Wade. He was a flawed man, but he wasn't bad. Blaming him for my time in the attic got me nothing except a heavy heart, and I wanted to start my new life light and free. My new life without fire, and with Jack.
"I own a knife," Jack said. "It was apparently given to me by my parents when I was a baby. Is it hers?"
Wade nodded. "She wanted you to have it. It was the only thing she brought from her realm. The only thing that was truly hers."
A blade forged in the Otherworld. It was only a small thing, but lethal to her kind. Jack's mother had saved us.
"What happened to the demon she was supposed to be chasing?" I asked.
"I assume another of her kind was sent to capture it and return it. Otherwise, we would have heard of it in the newspapers. That sort of creature can't go about unnoticed for long."
It did seem the most likely scenario. He was right in that a demon would attract attention, even if it were able to blend in for a while.
Wade's fidgeting grew faster, and he didn't meet Jack's or my gaze. He took great interest in the fire crackling in the grate. "Mr. Langley…I cannot give you my name."