SeductivePersuasion

by Frances Stockton

  “Who have you spoken to about my wives?” he asked as though he found it difficult to talk.

  “What does it matter?” When he didn’t reply, she shrugged and pulled back. “Oh, very well, it was Judith. I’d been upset about the bracelet and the words just came out.”

  “What did she say in response?”

  Aisley stomped away, having to fight an overwhelming urge to flee deep into the forest. “Again I am being questioned!”

  “I’ll have an answer, now.” Garrick didn’t permit her go very far and she turned back. If she walked off without giving a response, she thought he might punish her this time.

  Breathing deep, Aisley calmed herself. “She said Lady Cambria and Lady Edith were the wives of the second and third Earls of Danford. Her grandmother was a lady’s maid for Lady Edith’s mother. She is familiar with the Chambers family.”

  Garrick clenched his teeth, revealing his sharp canines for a moment before speaking again. “I should have thought of that before hiring Judith. Were you able to convince Judith otherwise?”

  “Nay, I am the one who’d been made a fool.”

  “You are not a fool, Aisley.” Considering his tattered appearance and his word in question, Garrick should have weakened but he remained strong. Confused by the fact that she wasn’t nearly as composed, she cast her eyes downward. She heard him move closer and flinched when he reached out to her.

  “Look at me,” he demanded, forcing her chin up. “I have not lied to you about my wives. Judith believes what I want all of England and the known world to believe. To protect you, Angelica, our future children and the earldom, the truth can only be known to Abcynians and my Guards.”

  “What truth do you speak of?” Aisley dared, uncertain why she was suddenly shaking. “Judith claimed Garrard Forrester, the third Earl of Danford, was Lady Edith’s husband. That would make him your father.”

  Garrick stepped closer, his manner proud, his eyes were steady on hers. “I was Garrard Edward Forrester, the third Earl of Danford. Before that, I was Garrett James Forrester, the second Earl of Danford.”

  She blinked. The validity of his word was somehow lost in the scent of cinnamon and Sir Knight’s musk. Taking a giant step backward, she took in the blurred faces of the trio behind Garrick.

  “You think you were three different men?” she asked, fearful that he had taken leave of his senses. Looking at the others, she saw only admiration. “Do you all believe him?”

  “We know he speaks the truth,” Lucien Hunter answered. “The earldom was bestowed upon Garrick’s father two hundred and thirty years ago. Garrick assumed the title upon James’ death.”

  Garrick attempted to reach out to her again, except this time Aisley stepped out of his reach. She didn’t want him to touch her. He was mad. They were all mad.

  “It is impossible for someone, even an earl, to live long enough to assume three identities,” Aisley managed to say, her body and voice trembling. “You’d have to be very old for something like that to happen.”

  “How old do I look to you?” For a man who’d gone mad, Garrick looked handsome and capable of shouldering the world if he chose.

  “You look older than thirty and younger than forty,” she presumed.

  “Garrick Edward Forrester was supposedly born on the 3rd day of May 1415. I am believed to be thirty and eight. In truth, I am four hundred and fifty.” Garrick’s manner grew fierce, determined, one hand beckoning her forward.

  “You believe that you’re four hundred and fifty years old? To think I’d been concerned about witchcraft when I’d first met you. Instead, you believe you are immortal.”

  “Only the Creator is immortal, however Abcynians can live for centuries,” Garrick said, lowering his hand. “When you are converted you will accept what I say as truth.”

  “Speak not! You shouldn’t claim such things,” she almost shouted. If anyone were to learn of Garrick’s beliefs, they’d think he was far worse than a man practicing some kind of ancient sorcery. They’d think he was evil. “If you think I would marry you while you believe the impossible…well, you are wrong!”

  Ignoring her resistance, Garrick leapt toward her with a speed and cunning a mere man shouldn’t possess. “Do not think I will release you from our betrothal, Aisley, do not. You’ve much to accept, but nothing has changed. You will be my countess.” Grasping her by the arms, he pulled her closer, ignoring her attempts to be free. When no one offered to aid her, Aisley gave up fighting. She couldn’t break his hold on her and, God help her, she almost wanted to believe him. “This is why I wanted to explain myself to you over time, so you wouldn’t be frightened, so you’d believe.”

  “You’re asking me to believe a myth,” Aisley said.

  Disappointment flickered across his face when she’d denied his claim. More than a little frightened, she made to say something to appease him until her gaze fell upon his broad, still bare shoulders.

  “Milord, what manner of mark do you possess on your back?” she wondered aloud.

  The height of the sun revealed an eerie glow etched into his skin. It looked like a large cat’s paw, unsheathed.

  “What is that?” she demanded, wrenching about to look again.

  There’d been a few times when she thought she’d seen some sort of mark on his shoulder when they were alone at night. But he’d been very careful not to reveal his back to her. At night their chamber was lit with only a few tallow candles.

  “Do not be frightened.” Garrick attempted to soothe her again. Aisley’s eyes were trained on his back. “The mark emerged when I reached adulthood and symbolizes what I am.”

  “What are you?” she asked.

  Garrick released her and permitted her to inspect the whole of his back.

  Like the unsheathed cat’s paw on his shoulder, his entire back bore the pale luminous lines of a beast. Nay, not just a beast, she acknowledged, it was a leopard. The leopard’s head and face took up much of the width of Garrick’s upper back, between his shoulder blades. Its mouth was curled in a snarl, revealing its long, lethal teeth, regal, though masculine, grace and cunning green eyes.

  The eyes were the only part of the design that bore actual color. The rest was as silvery as moonlight. An identical paw to the one she’d first noticed glowed on Garrick’s opposite shoulder. The unsheathed claws seemed to be reaching out…for her.

  “Garrick, how can you have such a thing on your back and I’d not noticed it before?”

  “I hadn’t yet revealed it to you,” Garrick explained. “And it is most prevalent during the full moon or when I am angry.”

  “The moon is not yet out.”

  “You may not see it, but it is there nonetheless.” Garrick moved until Aisley could only see a portion of the leopard on his back. It felt as though his eyes followed her regardless of where she stood. “Along with the full moon and the height of the sun, the leopard becomes noticeable.”

  “I do not understand,” she murmured. “Why do you have such a mark?”

  “Haven’t I already said? It is a symbol of what I am.”

  “You’re scaring me.” She was more than frightened, she was angry. “What do you think you are?”

  “You were right. We should talk privately,” Garrick said.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you! Answer me, please. Has it to do with Sir Knight?”

  “Bloody hell, I didn’t want you to learn this way,” Garrick implored. “Haven’t you seen the similarities in us?”

  “Us?”

  “The similarities I share with Sir Knight,” Garrick amended.

  “Garrick, what do you—” Aisley couldn’t speak as he crossed the barrier she’d tried to keep between them and captured her hands, holding them tight.

  “Look at me, Aisley. Really look at me,” he demanded, squeezing her fingers, though not hurting her.

  She lifted her chin, studying his regal, determined face. There was a familiarity to his face and eyes that she’d seen in another’s, li
ke the face painted upon his back.

  “Whose eyes do you see when you look at Sir Knight? What scent do you smell when either of us is close? Why do you think you can hear him roar when I am near?”

  “Be…because he can speak with me as you do,” she answered.

  How do you think I knew you’d bathed naked in a stream? Garrick’s prodding flooded her mind, his need for privacy surprising her. I was there. I was with you, protecting you.

  “You were spying on me that day in the forest, weren’t you?”

  Garrick frowned. “Nay, little one, I was with you. I wasn’t in this form. The first time you spotted me, I was hidden in a hollow tree, surrounded by ivy. Do you remember?”

  “Nay, nay, nay, cease this!” Aisley refused to accept what Garrick meant. To accept it would mean he was claiming to be more than a four hundred and fifty year old man. He was claiming to be—she wouldn’t think it. She wouldn’t!

  “Aisley, I am what you think.” Garrick released her hands, capturing her waist.

  “Do not say such things. You’ll not make me fall into your madness.” Relinquishing the struggle to pull away, she pounded her fists on his chest as he held her, giving her temper free reign. He could have struck her, forced her compliance, anything he wanted. He didn’t. He simply waited until she calmed. “What is it you want from me? Am I to be played the fool because I’m of common birth? Is that what this is about?”

  “Cease fighting, you’ll only bruise your hands. I’m not playing you for a fool. You are my mate, my future wife. I’d not mistreat you in such a way.”

  “Oh nay, I’ll not marry you unless you recant what you’ve said!”

  Refusing him in marriage suddenly caused her to hear Sir Knight’s dull roar sawing in her temples. The sawing grew louder, repetitive, real.

  Aisley stared up at Garrick, for she couldn’t look away. His throat was trembling. Trembling as it had the first night they’d met, when she’d mistakenly believed he was making that sound. Now she knew he was.

  With one last desperate fist to his chest, Aisley screamed and bowed in defeat. She’d have fallen if Garrick hadn’t caught her close. So close she could smell cinnamon and musk, the musk of a leopard, of Sir Knight.

  “Aisley, if you do not cease your struggles, you will provoke me into turning to prove what I am. You are not ready to witness that.”

  “Nay,” Aisley whispered. It could not be. “Let me go, Garrick, please.”

  Refusing, he held her still with one arm and tucked his fingers beneath her chin. For all they’d said this day, she shouldn’t allow him to touch her at all. Regardless she couldn’t deny that she needed to be near him.

  “Believe in me, Aisley. Have faith in what I am.” Garrick’s request baffled her. It was rare for him to show vulnerability. “Let us go somewhere alone so that we can settle this between us.”

  “You want me to think that you’re Sir Knight.”

  “I am a panthera pardus Abcynian, a man who can change into a leopard. The one you have named Sir Knight.”

  “Let me go!” Refusing to listen, she wanted to cover her ears, but Garrick held her fast. “I’ll not believe it. I’ll not!”

  Sir Knight’s roar combined with Garrick’s impatient breath and she could no longer separate the two, man or beast, beast or man, she didn’t know. Too overwhelmed, Aisley succumbed to oblivion, allowing the darkness that suddenly surrounded her carry her away from his madness.

  * * * * *

  Garrick watched the color leech from Aisley’s fair skin and swept her into his arms as she fainted. Worried, he carried her toward the manor house.

  “Garrick, take her to Jerold,” Catarina suggested.

  “I’ll take her to her quarters and see she is comfortable,” Garrick said with patience he did not feel. “Aisley has much to accept when she awakens. She’ll want to do it in private.”

  “She’s scared. She’ll come to accept you once she’s converted, milord,” Brandon said. “Mayhap conversion would convince her of what you are and what she will become.”

  “I’ll not force Aisley’s conversion unless her life is in danger.”

  Garrick knew he’d been wrong to wait this long to reveal himself. He couldn’t change his actions over the past sennights, but he could give Aisley the dignity of accepting what she’d learned in her own way and time.

  Garrick felt Brandon and his Abcynian kind following after them and wished Aisley were already converted. As he walked, tiny tremors coursed through her body. He knew those tremors and the ache she would feel upon awaking. He’d been too close when he changed to hunt in the forest alone. He’d needed to hunt, to seek the primal release of turning into his panthera half, but she’d felt his change. Her body thought it had contorted itself into a knot. She would need a panthera’s strength to handle it again or she might injure herself.

  Before they reached the entryway to the house, Garrick felt a strong hand on his shoulder, bringing his mind back to the present. The same hand caught his torn gypon and arranged it to cover his back.

  “Garrick, your lady will come to know the truth,” Lucien assured. “She cares for you. When she saw you come out of the woods, she’d forsaken her anger long enough to make certain that you were unharmed. If I dare say so, she loves you. She may not know it, but she’ll see the truth of it soon. Be patient with her when she wakes, she’ll need you to be.”

  “I will,” he said.

  “Should I fetch Jerold for you, milord?” Catarina questioned as Garrick marched inside.

  “I expect you to make sure that no one approaches Aisley’s wing.”

  “Is it wise for you to be alone with her? You know why I ask.”

  “She will go unharmed in my care,” Garrick said. “Once she is settled, I will seek the forest. I need to hunt. While I’m gone, see that she is guarded and safe.”

  “We will,” Lucien agreed, catching his wife’s elbow and steering her away.

  Garrick reached Aisley’s quarters and was pleased to find the servants absent. Brandon must have moved ahead of him and cleared the way. Moving faster, he entered the room, shifted Aisley enough to bolt the door and carried her to bed.

  Keeping her feelings foremost in his mind, Garrick settled beside her to brush an errant strand of hair from her face. Gazing at her, he found her as lovely as ever, though she’d been smeared with mud and the twin braids coiled in a knot atop her head were beginning to fall.

  Gently, he caressed her cheek to awaken her. “Aisley, come back to me,” he urged, noticing her color had already returned.

  “Umm, Garrick,” Aisley murmured.

  “Come, little one, open your eyes,” he insisted, nudging her.

  “Rather sleep,” she said more clearly, her eyes still closed. “My whole body aches. I may have caught Elethea’s fever.”

  “You aren’t ill.”

  Aisley’s frown deepened. “I must be. Why would I ache so? All I wish to do is sleep.”

  “You are the healer. Shouldn’t you know the answer to that?”

  “Healing has nothing to do with how I feel.” She opened her eyes. They were deep brown, her brow furrowed. “It is very dark in here, milord. Is it nighttime? Have I been dreaming?”

  “It is midday.”

  Since he could see clearly in the dark, he’d forgotten to light a candle for her. To appease her confusion, he left the bed and opened the shuttered window.

  “See, the sun is at its peak.”

  “Oh,” Aisley said.

  “We must talk, Aisley, the sooner the better,” he suggested while standing at the window. Turning back to her, he heard her sharp intake of breath.

  “Bloody hell, it’s real. The mark, what was said between us, everything.” Remarkably fast, Aisley leapt from the bed, fear in her eyes.

  “Cursing doesn’t become you,” he warned.

  “I’ll curse for a sennight if you don’t leave,” she warned. “I’m standing here, alone, with a madman! One who believes himself
a werewolf, nay, were-leopard, and is several hundred years old.”

  “Four hundred and fifty,” Garrick amended. “It is necessary for you to accept what you’ve learned. You are about to embark in marriage to the second oldest of the panthera Abcynians remaining in this world. There are so few of us, Aisley, and many have turned from our ways or denied our ancestry. I have pledged to keep our lineage thriving and safe while protecting Englishmen with the title of earl. As an Elder, I expect my mate to uphold my standing.”

  “Forgive me for refusing to bow to your rank and greatness, milord!” she shouted.

  Aisley’s anger had her pacing, luring Garrick’s leopard to the fore. Changing now would be easy and Aisley’s frightened back and forth movements were as tempting to the leopard as hunting prey.

  “Cease pacing, you’ll only provoke me,” Garrick forewarned.

  “I think it’s best for you to leave,” she insisted, drawing to a halt in the furthest corner of the room from where he stood. She was frightened and he’d done nothing to soothe her.

  “Do not be frightened.” Purposefully lowering his voice and breathing out, he sought to calm her with the leopard’s unusual rumbling she liked to call a purr. “I’ll not hurt you in either form.”

  “I’ve asked you to leave,” she reminded. “Enough of that rumbling, I detest it.”

  “Last eve you claimed that I made your whole body hum with pleasure.”

  Aisley’s bravery faded, her shoulders lowering in defeat. “How dare you use that against me,” she murmured.

  Impatient, he shoved his hand through his tangled hair and sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that. Tell me what you need me to do or say to ease your mind.”

  “I already have,” she said, pointing at the door. “Go, I need some time alone or I fear I shall succumb to your madness.”

  “What madness, my lady?”

  “You want me to believe you’re capable of becoming a leopard and that you’re four hundred and fifty years old.”

  “I could change right here and now and you’d see me for what I am. But that would bring you too much pain and I don’t want to hurt you again. I’d also rather you believe in me before I change in your presence. Until you are calm, I think it is best to leave you to your thoughts.”