“Can you swim?” The doctor asked bluntly. “Because from what we could ascertain, it did not appear so.”
Eden donned a sheepish expression. Best to straddle the fence on this one, she decided. “Yes, but I am not a strong swimmer. I became disoriented, looking for her. My skirts weighed me down. I did not think to cast them off beforehand.”
Her story must have sounded at least plausible because he nodded. “Well, I am glad my brother was present to attend you. It would have been a shame to lose one so young. May we contact St. James? He must be quite concerned for you.”
Eden sighed. “I doubt Linley would care to be saddled with an ailing in-law who’s existence he just became aware of two months ago. Besides which, I have already made plans to relocate to town as I am unmarried and now so is he.”
“Your father and mother then?” He offered.
“Mama…” She averted her eyes and took another fortifying breath. “…died just before Michaelmas last year. A fever that lingered too long, the doctors said. Papa passed not two years before of an arrest of the heart. It was sudden.”
“More distant relatives, an aunt or uncle perhaps?”
“There was a carriage accident last summer before mama took sick. My aunts…I do not know the particulars except to say that it was fatal for everyone involved.”
“Oh dear.”
The good doctor seemed perturbed by her plight. Eden sensed in him a compassion man, given to great acts of kindness. His brother, her attention migrated back to the window seat, emanated power mingled with a sort of aloofness that set her on edge. A strange tension was building between them, since she first became aware of him. He felt it too, she knew. Why couldn’t he at least speak? Seated there so still and mute, yet she sensed him tracking her every movement behind the tinted glass. He gave her the impression of a predator stalking the runt of the litter.
A faint knocking broke the thread of silence. “Yes, that will be Nell with your breakfast.” With that the doctor stood from the bed. “We will leave you to dine and rest. And when you are ready, Nell will attend to your bath.”
His brother took the cue and straightened from the window seat to follow him out as a nervous maid hovered with the tray.
Seized by an impulse, Eden addressed the silent one. “Ahem. Mr. Ambrosi.”
He halted. She thought for a moment that he would ignore her and resume walking. Instead, he turned.
Seconds ticked by and Eden fumbled with her hands trying to think of something to say. Why had she called his name? Besides rabid curiosity and blind impulse.
“Thank you.” She shifted her eyes to include Dr. Raine in her statement. “Thank you both for saving me.”
Nothing. No smile. Nor did he remove the spectacles when he did speak. “Thank Ethan and Cael. I had no hand in it.” With that, he resumed his exit.
His voice flowed over her like a hot breath. She almost sighed.
“Who is Cael?” She thought to ask just as he crossed the threshold. He continued out the door as if he hadn’t heard.
So, naturally, Eden took up questioning the maid the second the door closed behind them. Eden deemed her ‘Nervous’ Nellie. She would certainly need a bath when Nellie finished feeding her. As much of the soup went down her nightshirt as went into her mouth. Eden feared the poor girl would faint.
“Is there a lady of the house?”
“No, Miss.” Plop! Another spoonful of soup.
“Mr. Ambrosi, what manner of man is he?” Eden mopped up the damage with her napkin as she spoke.
“A strange one, for sure.” Her voice lowered to a hush. “Keeps company with a hawk, fierce eyes and a nasty sharp beak. Talks more to it than any other.”
“Mr. Ambrosi mentioned someone by the name of ‘Cael’. Do you know him?”
“A sibling I think, Miss. Master Ambrosi has quite a few.” Nellie’s hand faltered. Eden’s gown got doused with another spoonful of soup. This time, Nellie hurried to dab a napkin at the increasingly transparent cotton. “Sorry, Miss, but I shouldn’t be telling ya private things about the master. He won’t like it none. Dismissed three maids just last month for gossip-mongering and invading the restricted areas.”
“Oh please, just one more question.”
Her brow furrowed as if she longed to say no, but could not quite bring herself to deny her betters. “What is it you wish to know, Miss?”
“His eyes. What color are they?”
She shrugged. “Always wears the specs. Cook says his vision must be very poor; uses the hawk to see for him.”
“But I haven’t seen him with a bird.”
“If you stay around long enough you will.”
Then why wear tinted spectacles? Eden mused. She feigned a headache and let poor Nellie off the hook.
“Yes, Miss. I’ll come up in an hour or so with warm water for a bath.”
“No need, just show me where…” Eden scanned the room, frowning when she saw nothing.
“There is no bell pull.” Nellie informed her. “The master does not allow strangers in his private suite. Even us servants are allotted specific times and days to clean them.”
“Is this the bed…er, the chamber I mean where Mr. Ambrosi sleeps?”
“I dare say it is, Miss.”
* * *
“You seem unsettled by her.”
“Weren’t you?” Sans his spectacles, Dominic avoided his brother’s gaze.
“Not over much.”
He pivoted on the pianoforte seat to let his fingers flit over a familiar composition of Verdi’s. His music room, like his bed, reflected non-traditional taste. The grand pianoforte occupied the central space in the room, and was bathed in direct sunlight from the circular glass section of ceiling. The rest of the room lay in shades of light and shadow, with no other windows or wall-mounted torches to illuminate the corners. The pianoforte served as a private island, a safe haven away from the darkness. The effect at night was even more dramatic.
“There are no undercurrents in the pond.” Dominic informed his brother. “She should not have been in any danger of drowning.”
“Yes, I know. Cael said she stood gazing in the clearing and then leapt in the water and sank like a stone.”
“An attempted suicide.”
“Most like. She has lost her entire family in the space of two seasons. Alone, the world can be a scary place. Awash with so much grief, death must have seemed like the perfect solution.”
Dom eyed the other man askance, wondering if his brother knew just how well he identified with the woman’s situation. There was a time when he would have gladly taken his own life if he thought it would have afforded him some peace.
“Let’s not contact the Marquis just yet.” Ethan continued. “At least not until Cael returns and he can assess her mental stability. She may well succeed the second go round.”
“So, you think she will try again.”
“Her situation has not changed. She is still alone and grieving.”
“Whatever you think is best.”
“She will have to remain here, for a time at least.” He clarified, seeming to expect something.
Dominic shrugged, cutting his eyes to catch the reaction to his next words. “Send for Kathleen.”
Ethan’s brow rose. “Three houseguests inside of a week. Should we have the ballroom aired?”
He ignored his brother’s wit and pivoted back to the musical piece in front of him. “Nonna was not invited. She will be leaving within the hour. And your wife is hardly a guest. She will serve a purpose. The woman is unmarried. She needs a chaperon and a diligent watchdog. I’ll not have her harming herself under my roof.” The mere thought of her coming to further harm put him in a tetchy mood. Dominic was anxious for her safety, annoyed with himself for caring, and angry at her for affecting him so. He was loathe to explain how or why his signature indifference, cultivated over a span of years, crumbled at the thought of one slip of a girl with sad hazel eyes and a name that literally
meant heaven.
“You could always watch her yourself.”
A wave of heat hit him at his brother’s suggestion. Lascivious images exploded in his mind. A wall of silken white blond hair cascading down around naked alabaster skin as she stepped unawares from his nightshirt and into a waiting steam bath… Something broke open deep within him, some primal craving betrayed only by a staccato tick in his jaw.
“You’ve a queer sense of humor, Ethan.”
His brother shrugged. “I will bring Kathleen with me tomorrow.”
“Yes, and see to it that the woman is removed from my chamber and housed in one of the guest rooms.”
Chapter 5
Eden had taken to bathing in the evenings before dinner. Now that her voice was back and she had more color in her cheeks, she was allowed out of bed and took dinner with the doctor and his wife in the dining hall. Mr. Ambrosi did not join them. In fact, Eden had not laid eyes on him in the three days since she’d awakened from her ordeal. He was avoiding her of course. The thought depressed her. She found herself longing to see him again. Each night at dinner she bathed and dressed as best she could under the circumstances. There weren’t a lot of flattering options to employ with widow’s weeds. Kathleen was gracious enough to procure the proper mourning attire for her. The wardrobe brimmed with black crape and bombazine.
Sitting in a steaming bath with her head lolling on the rim of the tub, Eden let her eyes drift closed. If he meant to avoid her for the duration of her stay, why didn’t he simply send for the Marquis and have her removed. She was fully recovered. Even Dr. Raine ceased to treat her like a patient.
“Ya much too thin. Do they no’ feed tha lasses in America?” Eden opened her eyes to find Dr. Raine’s buxom, red-haired wife staring down at her. “Tis no surprise ya are no’ wed. Put some meat on those bones and you’ll be beating tha lads off with a brick.”
Kathleen tended toward bluntness. Eden learned quickly not to take offense.
“I haven’t been at liberty to socialize much.” The truth was, she’d never met a man she found more than passably interesting even before death and mourning limited her social engagements. Her thoughts flicked to Dominic Ambrosi. Until now, that is. There was something unnerving about him… and yet he still appealed to her.
“I know dis must be a difficult time but might I offer a word of advice.”
She nodded as Kathleen lowered herself eye-level with Eden.
“Do no’ grieve too long. Is no’ healthy ta dwell upon death. And they would no’ want dat for ya.”
The older woman went on to relate her own experiences with tragedy. Settling into the steaming water, Eden bent her knees so that they stuck up out of the water and slid down to rest her neck back against the rim of the tub. Kathleen lectured about the evils and expectations of the world. Eden heard only a fraction of what she said, savoring her voice more than her words. She almost felt home again. Her mother and aunts had often attended her bath, to chat, gossip or impart cautionary advice.
* * *
Agitated, Dominic paced the length of his bedchamber. He could almost smell her. Two days had passed since she’d last occupied the room. He’d instructed the servants to discard the bedding and swab the chamber from floor to ceiling. Yet, he still picked up minute remnants of her essence in the room whenever he shimmered into the astral realm. The faint colors he’d first glimpsed with Cael had since blossomed into an intoxicating swirl of lavender and twirling violets immersed within evolving geometric patterns. Dominic felt the tug of her like a fish ensnared in a lure. He did his best to make himself scarce, but to no real end. She saturated his mind. What was she doing? How did she fare? He yearned to be near her. Unable to resist any longer, Dom shimmered into the astral plane of the universe.
The astral plane did not exist in normal time and space. Just as twilight marked the hazy time between day and night, the astral marked the shadowy realm between life and afterlife. The senses… sound, smell, touch, and taste were meaningless. Mind-sight defined reality. Before learning of the dangers of the astral realm, Dominic spent copious amounts of time there. The ability to disconnect from his corporeal body afforded him a measure of peace he never seemed able to achieve in the physical world. He’d once lost six months in the astral realm.
The passage of time was near impossible to quantify. There were no landmarks, no buildings, no ground, sky, water, animals, nor trees…only an infinite many body-less souls dotted the airless void. A year, an hour, a decade might past in the realm that time forgot. The traveler would be unawares and in danger of being permanently disconnected from the physical world. Dominic sojourned there when necessary and sometimes used the realm as a rapid mode of travel, but he was careful never to linger.
At the moment, Dom’s jagged dance of dark and white light sought out Eden’s alluring purple-violet vortex. He halted a short ways from where her essence hovered, watching the color patterns mingle in harmony with a second essence he recognized as his sister-in-law. Curious, Dom exited the astral world and slipped into invisibility. He stood just inside her bedchamber, present in both body and spirit, but not visible to either woman.
* * *
“Mama was afraid if we wrote to papa’s parents in London of his death, they would descend upon us and take me away. My grandparents are powerful people from what I know of them and not at all happy to have their heir married to an American nobody.” Eden paused in her oration. Her hands stilled in mid-plait and she turned her head slowly to scan the room.
“What is it, lass?” Kathleen followed her gaze, puzzled.
“Nothing. I just felt a…draft.” Her brow furrowed as the ‘draft’ sent a prickling sensation over her skin. She jerked as a disturbing notion occurred to her. What if they were no longer alone? “Papa…and mama would always say that that was the reason they had made the choice to live in Boston, to avoid their controlling ways. Ironic it seems that in the end, mama blade me to seek refuge with them.”
“How then did ya come ta be with tha St. James’?”
“I could not face turning up on their doorstep, begging for sympathies from two people I would not recognize if I stumbled over them. Instead, I threw myself on the mercy of Millie and Reginald.” Unnerved still, Eden shivered and sunk lower in the tub.
“Is tha water cooling off, then? Let me see wat is keeping Nell.”
“No, no, please. There is no need.”
“Nonsense. We canna have ya catching a chill. One more ordeal might just finish ya, wee one.” Allowing no further argument, Kathleen excused herself. Eden found herself alone… with the unseen conjuring of her mind.
It approached from the side of the bed, watching her as she drew herself into a tight ball and cowered so low that her nose hovered just above the waterline. It slowed the approach to a crawl. Why was it here? What did it want from her? The most terrifying question of all, what would it do once it reached her? Eden cringed as the presence stalked closer still. Every muscle in her body grew taunt with fear and dread. Inch by inch it came, feeding off her stark emotions and pinning her to the spot. Her breath hitched. Eyes wide and staring, stiff fingers clutched the sides of the porcelain tub…
When at last the thing reached the far edge of the tub, Eden opened her mouth to scream. The next instant she felt the gentle touch of …hands, reaching beneath the water, fingertips fluttering against her skin. They applied a soft pressure to the sole of her foot, in vague circular motions. The administrations were smooth, unhurried, and pleasant even. She rose a little, eyeing the foot in question, with a disbelieving hazel gaze. Her fear dissipated.
The presence pulled a little at her foot and she complied. He (it must be a ‘he’ she reasoned) set the right foot over the edge of the tub at the knee and stepped closer to grasp her left foot from beneath the water. She felt the brush of a body between her legs at the knee. Languid she became aware of an odd tingling blossom in the pit of her stomach. Eden allowed her left leg to be lifted high on the diagonal,
unperturbed by the intimate view of her person this position gave the unseen him. Could a virtuous woman be ruined by a figment of her imagination?
She must be losing her mind. A sane woman had no cause to ask such questions. The fact that she conjured up a seduction-bent presence to raid her bath and do wicked things to her feet was probably proof enough of escalating madness.
Lulled into a sensation-seduced daze, Eden closed her eyes and slipped beneath the water’s surface…lay with her torso flush against the bottom of the tub. Taking full advantage of the extra leverage, the hands slid further to kneed her calf with the same soft, soothing motions. The tingling in her stomach sharpened to a vague longing for something she could not name. Her hands clutched at the sides of the tub. This time the action born of yearning, not fear. Images of herself in a similar position flashed in her mind.
At first, they came as staccato flickers of her body. She was unclothed, but not in the bath…somewhere else. The second wave of images lingered longer, were clearer, like photographer’s stills running one after the other to produce disjointed motion. She occupied a bed, her pale naked skin and flaxen hair at a drastic contrast to the ink-black sheets. Her head arched backward, hair lay fanning the pillow, her mouth open in a pose of sensual fusion of pleasure and pain. A dark figure loomed over her, his face hidden in shadows…
His chest bare, as broad as she was narrow, undulated above her. His voice moaned in what could only be described as ecstasy. “E—DEN…”
That voice! She recognized it even in her head. Eden shot up so fast the movement sent choppy waves splashing over the tub’s edge. She sat ramrod straight breaking contact with her unseen molester, as she realized what the images likely represented…and with whom.
“Dominic.”
And then, she was alone.
Dominic's Nemesis Page 4