by C. J. Archer
The declaration seemed to take Jack by surprise. "I neither want it nor need it. The Langley name is good enough for me. Indeed, I don't want anything from you, sir."
Wade looked up sharply. "Not even money?"
Jack laughed. "No."
Wade's jowls wobbled as he grumbled, searching for words. "I'm sorry I couldn't have been a proper father to you. I would have liked a son. But circumstances didn't allow it, and now…now I have a full family. Besides, you're a grown man. You don't need me. You understand, don't you?"
Jack leaned forward. "Sir…I have never considered you my father, nor will I. I have no interest in being part of your family either. You can rest easy on that score."
"Well then, we have nothing more to say to one another."
It was such an odd way to end their conversation, yet I wasn't sure what I'd expected. Too much time had passed for Wade to accept Jack as his son, and I suspect Jack was telling the truth. He simply didn't care.
"Thank you for your honesty, my lord," I said. "We have to leave now. There's a family feast tonight at Frakingham, and we don't want to be late."
Was it just my imagination, or did he flinch when I said 'family'?
Jack took my hand. "Hannah, I want to speak to Lord Wade alone for moment."
"Oh. Of course." What did he want to say to him that I couldn't hear? I admit to being put out, and I would certainly tell him so when we were alone in the coach.
"Wait, Hannah," Lord Wade called after me as I walked off. He hefted himself out of his chair and came up to me. "I'm pleased to see you looking well."
"I am. I no longer have any fire in me."
"That's good news."
I smiled. "Yes. I'm finally normal."
His jaw tightened. He leaned forward and took my hands in his big ones. "You'll always be special to me." And then he did the most remarkable thing. He kissed my forehead. When he drew back, his eyes were damp. "Goodbye, Hannah. I wish you well."
I left him alone with Jack and shut the door to the library. I stood there for some time, thinking about Wade and my life in his attic, about the first Hannah Smith, and Jack. How different our lives may have been if she'd lived. Or if she'd never been sent here at all.
It was silly to think of what-ifs. I shook off the thoughts and made my way back to the top of the stairs. I stopped when I heard feminine voices coming from a room across the landing. I peeped inside and saw Violet, Eudora and Lady Wade sitting in the drawing room, surrounded by hats and ribbons. It was a contented, domestic scene, one that I knew would have made Vi happy. Her life was so different now too.
"Hannah!" She set aside the hat she'd been redecorating. "Come in."
I shook my head. I didn't want to endure polite conversation with Lady Wade and her daughter. What on earth would I say to them? "Jack won't be long and we have to be going."
"Oh. I see." Vi stood, but did not come to me in the doorway. Lady Wade and Eudora stood too. They held hands and kept a little apart from Vi, excluding her. Vi pretended not to notice, but I saw the downturn of her mouth, the slight wobble of her chin. She wasn't a part of their family, no matter what Lord Wade said or how it had appeared at first. She might never be. Poor, sweet Vi. She deserved better.
I ran to her and hugged her. "My dear friend," I whispered in her ear. "I miss you."
She held me fiercely, her slender body shaking as she cried. We stayed like that for a few minutes until Jack appeared at the door. He'd not made a sound, but I knew he was there as surely as I knew that I was sorry for Vi.
"I forgot to tell you," I said, drawing away from her. "I'm cured."
She smiled, but Lady Wade gasped. I watched her over Vi's shoulder, and she quickly looked away, holding Eudora close as if I might harm her.
"I'm so happy for you," Vi said, wiping her cheeks. "So terribly pleased. Your life has changed remarkably since you left here." She peeked at Jack from beneath her damp lashes and colored. "You're very lucky."
"I know." I squeezed her hands. "I'll write to you."
"You must," she said, smiling sadly. "And be sure to visit too."
Lady Wade cleared her throat, perhaps annoyed at being excluded from the arrangements made for visits to her house.
"Perhaps you should visit me instead," I said to Vi.
We said our final farewells at the front door. Jack helped me into the carriage then settled beside me. I waved at Vi through the window until she was no more than a speck on the steps.
"Well?" I asked Jack. "What did you need to talk to Lord Wade about?" I stifled a yawn and arched my brows at him.
He arched his own right back at me. "I'll tell you later. You need to rest now." He moved to sit beside me and wrapped the blanket tighter around me. "Come here and close your eyes."
I rested against his warm body and tucked my head beneath his chin. The steady thump of his heartbeat and the gentle rocking of the coach soon sent me into a peaceful, contented sleep.
EPILOGUE
I didn't wake up until we reached Frakingham. Jack still held me in his arms, and gently woke me as the horses slowed to a stop.
"We're home," he murmured.
Home. Yes. Frakingham was my home. The house loomed ahead, a majestic building with unnecessary turrets and crenellations, an abundance of arches and no two pitched roofs exactly the same. It wasn't symmetrical and it certainly wasn't ordinary, but it had a beauty all its own. It was where I belonged.
Tommy greeted us and opened the coach door. He bowed to me. "Safe journey?"
"Yes, thank you, Tommy." Then, just because I felt like it, I pecked his cheek.
Jack cleared his throat. "Tommy, inform the others we'll be inside in a moment. Hannah and I are going for a short walk."
"We are?" I said as Tommy walked off and the coach drove around to the stables.
He placed my hand on his arm and we walked together across the lawn.
It had been a sunny afternoon, although the shadows grew long and the air crisp. We walked past the lake where we'd spent so many hours touching and kissing, dousing the heat within us. Its surface shimmered in the waning light and the first mists had already settled in the middle.
We reached the abbey and Jack laid his jacket over a low, ruined wall. "Sit," he ordered.
I did and shivered, despite my resolve not to let him see that I was cold. He sat beside me and angled me so that I was sitting with my back to him, his arms around me. His heat soaked through all the layers of fabric between us, and I sighed with pure pleasure.
"Better?" he murmured.
"Mmmm. Much."
We sat like that, watching the sun dip behind the ruins together. It sank quickly until it gave a final gasp and shot rays through a jagged arch like a beacon. But they too slipped away and dusk rolled in, turning everything shades of bronze. The old stones seemed to sigh, weary of the day and content to give themselves over to the evening.
"There's something magical about this place," I whispered. I didn't want to speak any louder and disturb the peace.
"That's why I wanted to bring you here."
"What do you mean?"
He reached into the pocket of his jacket and handed me a small velvet box.
"Oh, Jack. I haven't got you a present yet. There hasn't been time." Nor did I have any money of my own. I would have to borrow some from Sylvia. I wanted to get Jack something special.
"It's not a Christmas present," he said. "Go on. Open it."
I lifted the lid. My fingers shook so much that I almost couldn't manage it. Inside sat a ring set with a sapphire and surrounded by diamonds. I gasped. "Jack, it's so beautiful. But you shouldn't have. The necklace and earrings were more than enough."
He took the ring from the bed of velvet and took my hand. "You have to wear a ring," he said. "That way everybody knows you're going to marry me."
The breath left my body. I stared at him and he grinned back. "Is that a proposal?"
"No. This is." He got down on one knee and held both my hands in his. "Hannah Sm
ith, will you do me the honor of marrying me?"
I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips. When we came up for air, I said, "Yes."
He kissed me again, more tender this time, until I drew away to stare at my beautiful ring. I could feel him watching me, his gaze hot and intense. I would never grow tired of the way he looked at me.
"We ought to go inside," he said after a moment. "We should tell them our news."
"Soon. I want to be alone with you a little longer."
He grinned and kissed me again.
"Is that why you spoke to Lord Wade alone?"
He nodded. "He's still your guardian. I needed his permission."
"I take it he gave it."
"Yes, albeit reluctantly. Hannah," he started then stopped.
I touched his lips. "What is it, Jack? What's wrong?"
"By marrying me, you're not taking on a normal husband. I'm a half-demon."
"I don't want normal. I want you." I traced his lips with my thumb. "And you're not half-anything."
"If my mother was a demon, then that makes me half of one. There's no dressing it up in pretty clothes and calling it something else."
"By that reasoning, you're also half a pompous, selfish toad."
He laughed. "Your point?"
"What I'm trying to say is that you are what you are. You're not half of one parent, and half of the other. Yes, you have some of their characteristics, but they're put together in a way that is unique to you. I love you just the way you are."
"And I love you, Hannah Smith." He traced his finger down my cheek to my chin then let it fall to my waist. "With all my heart and soul."
He kissed me thoroughly, possessively, greedily until I was weightless and, believe it or not, hot. I burned for him, but not in the way I had when the fire boiled inside me. It was all from the pent-up desire and need.
And from love.
THE END
Now Available:
The Memory Keeper
The first book in the 2nd Freak House Trilogy.
When Charity decides to have her memory blocked by Samuel Gladstone, neither could have foreseen what would happen next. Read their story in The Memory Keeper, the 1st book in the 2nd Freak House Trilogy. Read on for an excerpt.
A MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR
I hope you enjoyed reading THE 1ST FREAK HOUSE TRILOGY as much as I enjoyed writing it. As an independent author, getting the word out about my book is vital to its success, so if you liked this book please consider telling your friends and writing a review at the store where you purchased it. If you would like to be contacted when I release a new book, please subscribe to my newsletter at http://cjarcher.com/contact-cj/newsletter/. All subscribers get access to exclusive excerpts, contests and other goodies on my website.
BOOKS BY C.J. ARCHER
Her Secret Desire (Lord Hawkesbury's Players #1)
Scandal's Mistress (Lord Hawkesbury's Players #2)
To Tempt The Devil (Lord Hawkesbury's Players #3)
The Charmer (Assassins Guild #1)
The Rebel (Assassins Guild #2)
The Saint (Assassins Guild #3)
The Sinner (Assassins Guild #4)
The Mercenary's Price
Surrender
Courting His Countess
The Medium (Emily Chambers Spirit Medium #1)
Possession (Emily Chambers Spirit Medium #2)
Evermore (Emily Chambers Spirit Medium #3)
The Wrong Girl (1st Freak House #1)
Playing With Fire (1st Freak House #2)
Heart Burn (1st Freak House #3)
The Memory Keeper (2nd Freak House #1)
Seared With Scars (2nd Freak House #2)
Edge Of Darkness (2nd Freak House Trilogy #3)
Honor Bound (The Witchblade Chronicles Book #1)
Kiss Of Ash (The Witchblade Chronicles #2)
Redemption
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
C.J. Archer has loved history and books for as long as she can remember. She worked as a librarian and technical writer until she was able to channel her twin loves by writing historical fiction. She has won and placed in numerous romance writing contests, including taking home RWAustralia’s Emerald Award in 2008 for the manuscript that would become her novel Honor Bound. Under the name Carolyn Scott, she has published contemporary romantic mysteries, including Finders Keepers Losers Die, and The Diamond Affair. After spending her childhood surrounded by the dramatic beauty of outback Queensland, she lives today in suburban Melbourne, Australia, with her husband and their two children.
She loves to hear from readers. You can contact her in one of these ways:
Website: http://cjarcher.com
Email: [email protected]
Twitter: @cj_archer
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/CJArcherAuthorPage
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An excerpt of THE MEMORY KEEPER (Book 1 of the 2nd Freak House Trilogy)
(c) C.J. Archer
CHAPTER 1
Hertfordshire, Spring 1889
"What do you want to be goin' to Freak House for, miss?" asked the driver as he hauled my valise onto the rear of his wagon.
"Freak House?" I scrutinized his moustache for any signs of mirth, since I couldn't see the mouth beneath it. The unkempt shrubbery didn't so much as twitch. "Perhaps I didn't make myself clear. My destination is Frakingham House. Please tell me this is the village of Harborough." I looked back to the railway station. The handful of passengers who'd alighted the train alongside me had dispersed and the locomotive was long gone. Not even a wisp of steam remained in the cool air of dusk. Only the stationmaster remained on the platform, fob watch in hand. The sign beside him confirmed that I hadn’t made a mistake.
The wagon driver chuckled. "Aye, this is Harborough and it's Frakingham House I'll be takin' you to, if that's where you wish to go." He held out his hand to me. "We local folk sometimes call it that. No harm meant, no harm done, eh?"
I accepted his assistance and stepped up, settling myself on the driver's seat; there was nowhere else to sit. I'd been lucky to secure the small wagon at all. I'd expected Jack or Samuel to meet me, but I hadn't recognized anyone on the platform. After inquiring of the stationmaster if one of the waiting coaches or carts belonged to Frakingham House, and having been informed that they did not, he'd hailed a passing driver on his way out of the village. The stationmaster assured me the fellow was reliable and honest, but if I preferred to wait for word to be sent to Frakingham House to send Mr. Langley's carriage to fetch me, then I was welcome to sit in the waiting room. I reluctantly took the offer of the passerby. It would be dark soon and driving in the dark could be even more perilous than sitting beside and aged and crooked little man.
The driver gathered up the reins and urged his horse forward. "I'm Billings. What's yer name, miss?"
"Charity. Charity Evans."
"And what's a pretty girl like you wantin' with them… uh, people up at Freak House, eh?"
Were all country folk nosey? Nobody in London would be so impertinent. "I have an acquaintance there."
"Mrs. Langley or Miss Langley? Both seem nice enough, although Miss Langley don't give me the time o' day. Mrs. Langley was ill some months back, before she married, but I saw her looking bonny again just the other day."
I allowed him to talk on and did not correct him. It was neither Mrs. Hannah Langley nor Miss Sylvia Langley whom I'd come to meet. I knew them both, however, and they were friendly enough, although Sylvia was somewhat aloof towards me. I supposed that was to be expected considering she had both feet firmly on one of the upper rungs of society and I didn't even have a toe-hold on the bottom one. It didn't matter. I only hoped she wouldn't make Hannah feel uncomfortable for inviting me. I didn't want to cause trouble between the two of them now that they were related through marriage.
I inhaled deeply, breathing in the fresh country air, and resisted the urge to remove my hat and let
the breeze loosen my hair. Instead, I clamped a hand down on the crown to keep it from flying off. "If you don't mind," I told Billings, "I'd like to observe the countryside in peace until we reach the house. The evening is quite lovely for driving."
"That it is, miss, that it is." He mercifully didn't ask any more questions.
Indeed, it was I who asked him one several minutes later as we turned off the main road and drove through enormous iron gates. "Have we arrived?"
"Aye, miss. The house is looking like its old self again now that it's been fixed. The fire did some damage, but you can't tell no more."
As he finished speaking, the house came into view at the end of the long drive. My breath caught in my throat at the magnificent sight. I knew the owner, Mr. August Langley, was a wealthy man, but seeing his house hammered home just how wealthy. The majestic building stamped its importance on the surrounding landscape of green lawns and hedges like a glowering king. Its chimneys stretched toward the sky, as if they would rip out the clouds and replace them with gray smoke. A medieval knight wouldn't look out of place striding behind the crenellated turrets, nor would a forlorn maiden sitting in the window embrasure of one of the towers.
A shiver slithered down my spine. I may like Jack and Hannah Langley, but their house sent doubts burrowing into my mind. It seemed to be the sort of place where shadows lingered, even on a bright day, and whispers echoed when no one was about. It seemed a fitting residence for a man like Jack's uncle, August Langley. I'd been told the scientist conducted his experiments in a laboratory inside; what those experiments were, I didn't know, nor did I wish to find out.
"I heard about the fire," I muttered. The sound of my own voice roused me and I looked away from the house. We drove down an avenue of trees. Beyond the row to our right, the crumbling walls of a ruin crept to the edge of a lake. The water sparkled beneath the last rays of sunshine. A dense wood stretched behind it, almost up to the side of the house. If one did not look at the house itself, it was otherwise a tranquil country scene.