Dark Angel (Entangled Edge)

by TJ Bennett

  I rose and stepped back peering warily out the window. “Do you really believe whatever it is behaved that way because it did not wish for you to be near me? How can that be? Why would you think such a thing?”

  He studied me. “I do not know it for a fact. Still, there was definitely a reaction each time I touched you, and that is not my imagination. The only question to be asked is: Why?”

  I was at a loss for any logical explanation and I gazed at him helplessly. “I cannot imagine.”

  His eyebrows lifted a fraction. “Can’t you?”

  “No.” I truly could not. “Tell me your theory, then, while I search for something to wrap your knee in before the swelling gets any worse.”

  “You’ll find some clean cloths back through that door.” He pointed, and I went into the small but efficient kitchen with its wood-burning stove and large, friendly hearth.

  I returned bearing several rags and proceeded to cut them up with the shears while Matthew explained.

  “I think we can safely say the stories of the great black beast were not exaggerated,” he said wryly. “I also think we can conclude the master may have sent it.”

  He had captured my attention, and my hands stilled. “Why?”

  “Remember, I told you before he seemed quite attentive to you when I saw you together. Possessive, even. Perhaps this creature is a servant of his, sent to keep an eye on you and you away from other men when you are not with him.”

  I silently contemplated this as I wrapped the cloths around Matthew’s knee, tying them in a manner that would compress the injury, but not reduce circulation. It was a testament to the strangeness of my stay on Ynys Nos that I seriously considered his statements.

  “We know the master never leaves the manor until nightfall,” Matthew continued. “From what I know of him, he is not a man who would be content to allow you out of his sight for any length of time if he decided you were under his protection.”

  I bit my lip, wondering if I should share my suspicions with Matthew about the creature on the beach. “I think I have seen this creature before,” I confessed. “When I washed ashore, I thought—for only a moment—well, I thought I saw it approach me. I believed it was about to attack, but then Gerard was there and it was gone. Gerard told me I had imagined the animal, that nothing like it could be found on this island.”

  Matthew’s eyebrows hitched up at my revelation. “I doubt the master would want anyone to know he kept such a beast about. Given its supernatural abilities, however, it seems likely the source of its power lies with the master himself, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Yes, I have to say I do.” I rubbed my hands together and stood. “Perhaps we should check on the others, see if the fog has abated. I think it is high time I returned to Alexander Hall. I would like to consider everything you have said today.” I scowled. “I am sure I will have a great deal to discuss with His Majesty should he deign to join me for dinner tonight.”

  “You’ve got blood in your eye, madam,” he said, grinning. “I do not envy him that interview. However, if I may be so bold, perhaps I might suggest…” Matthew cleared his throat, then rushed ahead. “I might suggest that you do not return to the Hall, but instead stay here, as a guest of mine and Mariah’s. We do not have much, but all we possess is at your disposal. It will be a place to gather your forces, as it were, and decide what you would like to do next. Perfectly proper, I assure you. Mariah can serve as chaperone.”

  I did not know how to tell Matthew that Mrs. Howard was the last person in the world I wished as chaperone. Jealousy over her and Gerard stuck at the back of my throat, as stupid and immature as it might be. I wanted Gerard—oh, yes, I freely admitted it, even though I had no plans to act upon those feelings—and she had had him. And as such, living under the same roof with her would seem entirely too…French for my taste.

  I gave Matthew a tight smile. “I appreciate the offer, and will consider it for the future. But for now, I need to return home…that is, to Alexander Hall. The answers to the questions I have are there, not here, and I intend to ask them forthwith.”

  Matthew gave me a worried look. “Do be careful, Catherine. It is not wise to back a powerful man into a corner, and the master is a most powerful man indeed. If you ever need anything, you have but to ask and I will do my utmost to assist you. Promise me you will.”

  My heart softened even more toward him. He was such a good man, willing to stand between someone who could probably kill him with a thought, and a woman he barely knew, only because he felt called upon by his Christian duty to do so.

  “I will, Matthew. Rest assured, I will.” I glanced up and saw the antique rapier on the mantel. “We could have used this today. Although I admit it is an odd adornment for the home of a man of peace.”

  He smiled distractedly. “It was my father’s, and his father’s before him. Tradition has it that the male heirs of my line must bear it in the ceremonial procession that opens the harvest festival every year. It is rumored to have been crafted from the melted down remnants of an ancient Knights Templar’s sword, but I rather doubt it. Grandfather was somewhat prone to fanciful elaboration. Anyway, it has a more practical purpose. My father considered himself a fencer and taught me a bit of it. Said it was good exercise and would keep a man fit, but never to point the tip at any man without the foil on unless I planned to kill him.”

  Intrigued, I reached up to touch the gleaming blade.

  “Careful,” he admonished quickly. “It’s quite sharp.”

  I dropped my hand, turning to face him.

  He eyed me grimly from his chair. “You asked me if anyone here had died violently since the tragedy. There have been two such deaths. Two bodies were found in the forest several years ago, torn asunder by a wild animal. It was our first indication that those of us who survived the cataclysm could be killed.”

  My head thudded dully. “Do you suspect the creature that followed us today of those attacks?”

  “I don’t know what to think, but yes, it is a strong possibility. Still, the creature would be considerably older now. Animals on this island don’t share our immortal traits. Perhaps this one is its descendant. Regardless, those bodies were savaged by an animal in a frenzy. Why, then, if it was the same creature, did it not attack us when it had the chance?”

  That had occurred to me as well.

  “Since the attacks, we have all been very careful to watch ourselves.” He stared out the window. “That is why I walked Mariah to her friends’ house this morning, and why she would have stayed there rather than walk home alone in the fog by herself. She is a sensible woman, my cousin, for the most part.”

  Even so, I detected from his frown as he watched the path outside his home that he was still worried.

  “Tell me more about the victims,” I said to distract him.

  “I do not think the details are appropriate for a woman’s ears. But I will say they were men, and of the lowest sort.” He sighed. “I am sorry to say that when their corpses turned up, or what was left of them, there were few who mourned them. I pray for their souls, I truly do, but if they are receiving eternal punishment right now…well, let us simply say that God is Just.”

  “I understand.” I knew about darkness of the soul. I had seen it myself any number of times throughout the war and in the squalid streets of London. Evil frequently walked on two legs and wore a human face, so I could think no less of Matthew for feeling the same way.

  He shook himself. “Let us speak no more of this sordid subject. I simply thought it best you knew.”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  I wondered how I might broach another delicate subject with Matthew. It was my habit to be direct, but even so, this would be something genteel folk did not discuss in mixed company, if at all. Yet, I had no other acquaintances on Ynys Nos, so I was determined to ask him.

  “What you told me about the stillbirths weighs heavily on me. Are you aware—that is, do you know there are ways to, ahem, prevent such
occurrences from happening?”

  Matthew gazed at me in innocent confusion.

  I gathered my courage and plunged right in. “To prevent conception, I mean. Given that the fetuses are doomed from the beginning, it seems that it would not be sinful—indeed, would be more humane—to prevent conception at all.”

  “Ah.” He shifted in his seat. “As to that, I am aware that the midwife, a Mrs. Blackpot, provides advice to those who wish for such interventions. I have been asked for my position on this subject, and as a representative of the church, I cannot, of course, condone it. It is immoral in the eyes of the church to prevent the natural course of conception.” He spread his fingers over the arms of his chair, grasping them tightly. “However, as one who has consoled many of the devastated mothers after the stillbirth of their little ones, I cannot in good conscience stand in the way, so, I turn a blind eye. I believe our God is not only just, but merciful, and that He weeps along with us in our pain. I believe He will forgive.”

  “Still, there are so many graves. The interventions, I think, must not be very effective. Do you know which methods the women employ?”

  He flushed deeply. “Perhaps that would best be a question for Mrs. Blackpot.”

  “Of course.” My cheeks heated, and I ducked my head in embarrassment. Matthew was so easy to talk to, I had forgotten myself. “I beg your pardon.”

  Bill returned then, pulling the errant footman Thom by his ear. “Here he is. Found him cowering under the church pews, I did.” He pushed the young man forward. “Apologize to the missus for losing your nerve.”

  “Really, Bill, that is not—” I began.

  “It is and I’ll see he does it. And I’ll be telling the master about him abandoning his post. No sense setting a guard on you who’s sporting a yellow stripe down his back.”

  The younger footman muttered an apology through tight lips, and I could not help but feel sorry for him once Gerard learned of his failing.

  “Think nothing of it,” I murmured and turned to Bill. “Might we leave now?”

  “Fog’s still thick as pea soup. By your leave, ma’am, I’d like to wait a while, see if it doesn’t clear up first. Wouldn’t like to brave it with that thing still running around out there. But it’s up to you.”

  For safety’s sake, I agreed we had no choice but to await the fog’s dissipation, so it was after dusk before we were able to leave. There had been no sign of Mrs. Howard, either, and we had to assume she’d elected to stay with her friends. I delayed long enough to put out a simple meal for Matthew. I finally bundled myself into the carriage and waved farewell to him while he leaned against his doorjamb, despite my admonition to remain in his chair, watching me with troubled eyes.

  I had a singular determination to locate Gerard and demand to know if he had any influence on the events that had led to Matthew’s injury.

  And to ask Gerard, if in addition to commanding the elements, did he command a hungry-eyed, black-furred beast as beautiful and as terrifying as he?

  Chapter Twelve

  When we arrived at Alexander Hall, it was to find the staff in turmoil. Gerard was in high dudgeon. I could hear the shouting before Jeffries opened the wide front door to me and when he did so, the butler’s face lit up with such relief, one might have thought I’d returned from the Great Beyond rather than the vicarage. Servants scurried about, their heads down, their faces white and tense.

  “I do not bloody care when she arrives,” I heard Gerard roaring from the second floor, “bring her to me at once, or I will know the reason why!”

  I heard frightened murmurs of assent and then a door slamming shut to the accompaniment of breaking glass.

  “Oh, madam, thank God,” Jeffries exclaimed. Recovering himself, he said blandly, “The master will be pleased to know you have returned.”

  “Hmmm.” I looked at Jeffries with trepidation. “Perhaps I would be better served to go away again until his temper cools.”

  “No! Ah, that is, he is most desirous of your company at this precise moment.” Jeffries flicked a glance at the staircase. “He has made his wishes clear on that point. There has been another…incident. He wishes to assure himself of your safety. Would you be so kind as to follow me?”

  “What sort of incident?” I queried.

  “One in a long line of accidents that have been plaguing the master’s household for several months. This time it was a fire that started in one of the rose gardens closest to the west wing of the house. The groundskeepers put it out, but it appears to have been deliberately set.”

  I deposited my bonnet and wrap with Bill, whose face had taken on a worried cast. I exchanged glances with him, growing more concerned myself. Someone seemed to hold a grudge against those at the Hall, or perhaps against the master himself. I wondered who might have the courage—or perhaps, audacity might be a better word—to risk angering Gerard.

  I followed Jeffries up the stairs to the second floor and to Gerard’s suite, outside of which stood a cowed Mrs. Jones, wringing her hands beside an immaculately dressed servant who was, from the shirt and stock he held in his shaking hands, Gerard’s valet.

  “Oh,” Mrs. Jones exclaimed upon sighting me, “ye be found!”

  “I assure you, Mrs. Jones, I was never lost. I am certain the footman informed Mr. Jeffries of my destination before we left, and Mr. Jeffries, being an excellent butler, no doubt passed that information along to him.” Jeffries confirmed this with a nod. I glanced at the door and lowered my voice. “Is he…is he very angry at my staying away for so long?”

  “Well, I will not lie to ye, ma’am.” She smiled nervously, the wrinkles in her paper-thin skin folding around her eyes. “That he is, but I think he was more afeared than angry, and men don’t quite know how to express themselves in a manner as we women might.”

  Something breakable smashed inside the room, and she winced.

  “Perhaps it would be best to alert the master that Mrs. Briton has returned,” Jeffries suggested diplomatically, and stepping forward, scratched at the door in the traditional manner of a servant trying to gain the attention of his master without startling him.

  “Come, blast it.”

  The door swung open, and there was Gerard in the midst of a room in a splendor of disarray with his back to us, wearing a lush, royal-blue dressing gown. Clothes were strewn everywhere, and a decanter of what must have once held wine had been shattered against the wall, staining the velvet cream wallpaper red.

  Gerard’s hands fisted on his lean hips, a splintered chair lying in pieces across the floor. His feet were bare, his legs spread in the ancient pose of a conqueror. His midnight-black hair was damp and tousled, indicating he’d recently emerged from a bath. It appeared the valet had only managed to get his master’s breeches on before he’d been thrown from the room.

  “What is it?” Gerard snarled over his shoulder, then lifted his nose as if scenting the air. In one swift move, he swung around to face us. “Catherine.”

  The way he said my name, full of ominous import, sent shivers down my spine. Those were quickly followed by racing tongues of flame at the glimpses of his bare chest and abdomen within the open dressing gown, which revealed the sculpted body of an athlete. I did not know whether to be grateful or resentful for the breeches riding low on his lean hips.

  I should have been ashamed to stare at him, but I was not, any more than I would be ashamed to marvel at the statue of Michelangelo’s David in all its beauty and perfection. Still, some since of circumspection reminded me where I was, and I tore my fascinated gaze away, dragging it to his stormy face. His brow was dark, his eyes like winter. His strong jaw flexed, and his proud nose flared.

  He was magnificent.

  I felt that magnetic pull again which he had exerted on me when I had visited his room before, and I wondered if it was entirely wise of me to be with him when he was in such a state. “Er, perhaps I should come back later—”

  He glared at me in all his terrible glory and the wo
rds he spoke next were for his servants alone.

  “Leave us.”

  They scuttled out without a backward glance, and the door swung shut behind them.

  I watched them leave with dismay. “Gerard, it is not proper for me to be closeted with you in your bedroom when you are like this—” I waved my hand at his state of dishabille— “especially when the servants are aware.”

  “Proper?” he thundered. “You dare tell me what is proper?” He stalked toward me, all male muscle and smoldering heat. “You have spent the entire day in the company of another man, and you would tell me what is proper? Do not forget, I have tasted you. I have held you in my arms. And you will never convince me again that the word proper and you have any business together whatsoever.”

  I did not fear him, although if I was a wiser woman, I might have. His challenge was a test of my mettle, and he would never respect me if I cowered before him like his servants did. Instead, I held up my hand to halt his progress, refusing to back away from him. He did not stop until my palm pressed against the solid, smooth muscles of his chest. I could not speak, entranced by the shift and flex of his warm skin. He pushed my hand aside and caught me to him.

  “Where. Have. You. Been?” Each word hard and unyielding, like the man himself.

  “I-I…” Clearing my throat, I tried again, striving for an air of indifference and failing miserably. “You know where I was. You have already said. You know everything that happens on this island. Do not deny it.”

  “You were with him,” he growled. “For hours. Handsome, good, normal Matthew, who greatly wishes to become better acquainted with you.” Despite his obvious vexation, he seemed somehow vulnerable, his hard gaze harboring an anxiety I could not understand. “Well, did he?”

  “Did he what?” I equivocated.