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Dark Angel (Entangled Edge)

Page 19

by TJ Bennett


  “No, I-I don’t have an appetite. Please prepare a carriage. I need to go out again.” I had to see Matthew.

  “But—”

  “It is important. You may pile on the footmen if it makes you feel better.”

  He sighed. “Yes, ma’am, right away.”

  He left me standing there. I gripped the staircase railing to steady myself, the walls spinning.

  Somehow, when I had been with Beast, time had warped around us, slowing down at its center as though it obeyed a different set of natural laws than the rest of the island. As did Ynys Nos: everything here seemed to slow while the rest of the world sped by. The effect was apparently more intense within the creature’s immediate sphere.

  Despite all the evidence, I had not truly accepted the fact that the island was suspended outside of time. Having experienced it myself, now I could no longer deny it. What was the cause? Did the presence of Beast have something to do with the shifting nature of time, since it behaved differently when I was with him? And more importantly, was returning to England to the same time I had left really, as Gerard had claimed, forever beyond my grasp?

  I walked slowly up the stairs, filled with distress, the unanswered questions flying through my mind like dead leaves in a winter storm.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I took a closed carriage as the weather seemed to threaten rain. The driver pulled up outside the Pangburns’ cottage, and Matthew must have heard it because before I had a chance to knock, the door opened. However, it was not him after all, but his cousin, Mrs. Howard. She smiled tentatively at me, and my heart sank. Of course she would be home now. I had not even considered it in my urgency to question her cousin about Beast.

  I was uncomfortable around her for reasons she could not have guessed. Her liaison with Gerard stuck in my heart like a burr, and now her estranged husband was pursuing me, no doubt because my reputation in the village had been shredded by my staying in Gerard’s home. Neither of these things should have mattered in regards to my feelings about Mrs. Howard, though; the woman had a right to be judged on her own merits, and she’d been nothing but kind when we had met before. I did wonder how she had become involved with Roger Howard in the first place. The two did not seem to suit at all.

  I tried to push aside my trepidation at seeing her and smiled in return.

  “Hello, Mrs. Howard. Nice to see you again,” I lied.

  “And you, Mrs. Briton. I am so glad you are well.” She ushered me into their home, where Matthew sat dozing in front of the fire with an open Bible in his lap, his injured leg propped on a footstool, his head lolling to one side. “We prayed for you earlier. We heard that you had gone missing and were afraid something terrible had happened to you. It was all I could do to keep my cousin from hobbling out and joining the search. He has exhausted himself with worry.”

  She went up to him, bending to speak softly in his ear.

  Matthew awoke with a start, his eyes lighting up when he caught sight of me. He struggled to rise. “Good heavens, Catherine. Are you all right?”

  I gestured him back into his chair. “I am perfectly fine. It was simply a misunderstanding. I apologize for causing everyone so much distress. I’d hoped to see how your knee was coming along,” I said, grasping at the first plausible excuse that came to mind.

  “Oh, it’s fine, fine.” He waved away my concern. “Do sit down, dear lady.”

  I sat nearby, but Mrs. Howard remained standing, obviously ill at ease. She clasped her hands together and asked, “Might I fetch something for you? Tea, perhaps?”

  I said yes, and she hurried off, which suited me fine since I’d no wish to discuss the subject on my mind in her presence.

  I waited for the kitchen door to bang shut behind her, then turned to Matthew and lowered my voice. “I have had the most extraordinary day, Matthew. I will tell you all about it another time,” my glance flicked to the kitchen, clearly indicating my reluctance to broach the subject now, “but first I must ask you a question in strictest confidence.”

  He leaned toward me conspiratorially. “Ah, an intrigue. I have so little opportunity for it these days. Pray tell, how may I be of assistance?”

  “You spoke of the deaths that occurred here since the disaster struck. Can you tell me anything more about them?”

  He pulled back with a frown. “That is hardly an appropriate topic of conversation, Catherine.”

  “Believe me, I would not ask if it was not absolutely necessary. What were the circumstances surrounding the deaths?”

  He was silent for a long moment but finally gave in to my pleading expression. “As I said, the men were brutes. They were responsible for several attacks against women here on the island. You see, after the disaster, when we’d discovered the true extent of the tragedy and its effects on us, a few people took our isolation and apparent immortality as a license to behave with abandon. It was as though God’s laws against wickedness no longer applied. If there was to be no death, they decided, there was no Heaven and Hell, and therefore, nothing to fear in terms of divine retribution.” He paused, remembering.

  A sense of urgency made me place my hand on his arm. “Go on.”

  “Several women were attacked over a period of weeks. They were—well, they were ravished. The village was in an uproar, but try as we might, we could not discover who the villains were. Then a third woman was kidnapped and carried into the woods to be molested. Although they had bound and blindfolded her in preparation for their activities, they did not succeed.”

  “Why? What prevented them?”

  A thoughtful look came over him. “At the time, I confess we thought her too terrorized and confused to believe what she claimed to have seen, but in hindsight…”

  “What? What is it?” My grip on his arm tightened.

  He raised his eyebrows. “She said in the midst of the attack, she heard an animal roaring as though maddened, and the men began screaming horribly. She rubbed the blindfold off one eye with her shoulder enough to see a fierce creature resembling an enormous black leopard dragging one of the men into the mist by the throat. She fainted, too overcome to understand what she was seeing, convinced she would be next. When she awoke, however, both the men and the creature were gone. There was a great deal of blood and some confusing tracks, but nothing else.”

  “And this happened when? I mean, at what time of day?”

  He considered it. “It was early morning, I believe, just after sunrise.”

  During the day. When Gerard was never to be seen. He was protective of his people, particularly the women. If one of them was threatened, and he’d come upon their attackers, what might he do? Could he have commanded the creature to destroy the men?

  Or could he somehow have become the creature and killed the men himself?

  “You located the bodies, I presume.” I kept my voice carefully neutral, unwilling to reveal my suspicions.

  “We did, eventually. What was left of them, at least. The victim managed to make her way back to the village. She was hysterical, understandably so. We sent a search party of armed men out to look for her attackers. I went with them. When we found the brutes, it was obvious they had been savaged by an animal in a killing frenzy.” He grimaced. “Wolves, or feral dogs, we thought, as those are the only creatures on the island capable of doing such damage to a human body. It was the first time we realized we could be injured enough that we could not be put back together again, that we could, in effect, die.”

  “Have there been any other attacks since then?”

  “No.” He sat back in his chair, massaging his knee a bit as he did so. “And thank God for that.”

  “I appreciate your honesty.” I looked at his leg. “Perhaps I should ask Gerard to assist you with your injury after all. It still appears to pain you.”

  “No, it is fine. Besides, I need it. I’m using it as an opportunity to gain sympathy from a beautiful woman.” He grinned, restored to his natural humor. “That robin’s egg blue becomes you,” h
e offered, commenting on the high-waisted Holland Spencer jacket I’d donned over my white muslin gown. I blushed a little, flattered by his comment, and returned his smile. I only just realized I still wore my bonnet, and set about removing it now.

  “Pishposh, Matthew,” said his cousin from the kitchen door, “You’ll give her the wrong idea about you.” She bustled in with the tea service, setting it down before us. She wore a simple day dress in pink and gray that did nothing to set off her lovely blue eyes or brown-gold hair.

  I shifted to one side to give her more room, setting down my bonnet beside me.

  Mrs. Howard smiled and poured my tea. “He really is the most sober of men. I don’t know what’s come over him since you arrived.”

  Matthew flushed. “A widower can tease a pretty woman a bit, can’t he? No harm in that.”

  “Not when that widower is the village vicar, dear cousin,” she said, not unkindly, “and the lady is as pretty as she. You know what everyone will say. Tongues do wag.”

  “People should mind their own business,” Matthew said firmly.

  I finally acknowledged to myself what I had been deliberately ignoring in the hopes that it might not be true. Matthew had a tendré for me. Mrs. Howard’s gentle admonishment to him, and the meaningful look she directed my way while she stirred honey in my tea, seemed to communicate a warning to us, and it was very likely due to the rumors of my relationship with Gerard.

  I did not disagree with her. Becoming involved with Matthew or any other man here would only further complicate my already too-complicated life.

  I rose. “Perhaps I should go.”

  They both protested.

  “Nonsense, you’ve only just arrived,” she said, handing me the teacup and saucer and motioning for me to remain seated. “Stay and visit awhile. Are you enjoying your time at Alexander Hall?”

  I settled back and carefully sipped the sweet, hot tea before answering. “The house and grounds are lovely, and the servants seem to be happy.”

  “And the master? He is well?” She asked this without looking up from pouring her own tea.

  I imagined a woman like Mrs. Howard would not forget an encounter with Gerard too quickly. “Yes. He secludes himself during the day, as you know, but we see one another at most evening meals.” I paused, turning the teacup round and round on the saucer, then decided to forge ahead. “You seemed concerned about my staying with him last time we met. Matthew says you have a theory about Gerard’s absences during the day.” I boldly met her gaze.

  Matthew interjected. “For heaven’s sake, Catherine, don’t encourage her.” His voice was filled with amusement, but there was something else there as well.

  “My cousin laughs at my concerns, and I suppose rightly so.” She tapped her finger on the edge of her cup. “I must admit, I overheard a bit of what you were discussing earlier, about those terrible men who attacked the girls. Forgive me for eavesdropping, but voices do carry in such a small house, and—”

  “Did you wish to discuss that with me as well?”

  She bit her lip. “It is only…well, it is such a coincidence, don’t you think? That the master is never to be seen during the day, and that this creature has never been seen at night. And those men! What sort of animal could have done such a terrible thing to them? Why would it attack only the men, who were strong and armed with knives, according to the victim, but not bother with the woman bound and helpless between them? And Matthew tells me a similar creature stalked you in the woods but did not hurt you, although it took a dislike to him.”

  “What are you suggesting, Mrs. Howard?” I set my teacup and saucer down.

  “Only this. Those men deserved to be punished. I do not deny it. Still, to die in such a way—to be torn apart limb from limb and savaged into bits, but not eaten—it seemed personal, not the random act of a hunting beast. An act filled with rage. If—and I only speculate when I say this—if that creature had a motive in that someone it felt was under its protection had been harmed, it might react that way. The master might react that way, if he had come upon them himself.”

  “Say it outright so that we may bring it into the light and examine it.”

  She stared me down. “Very well. I believe the master has the ability to become this creature at will, but perhaps chooses to do so only in the daytime for reasons of his own. I believe he killed those men in an act of wrath.”

  “Mariah, you go too far,” Matthew admonished. “You have hinted to me about such things before, but to openly accuse the master of this in front of others—”

  I stopped him with a glance. “No, let her speak. I want to hear what she has to say.”

  Encouraged, she eagerly explained. “The killing frenzy Matthew described makes me question whether the master has the ability to control himself when he is in the animal state, and that is why I am worried for you. Perhaps when he becomes this creature, he cannot temper his emotions, particularly the stronger ones. Perhaps he reacts on instinct alone.”

  Gerard had stated that when he expended a great deal of magical energy, it was difficult for him to control his baser emotions. I had seen his dangerous mood swings myself. Still, accusing him of being a ravening beast without verifiable evidence was asking for trouble. And furthermore, the creature, although fearsome, seemed anything but a ruthless killer, and he’d never harmed a woman. “Do you have any proof to support your claims?”

  She seemed to deflate. “None. Call it women’s intuition. There are too many things about him that remain unexplained. Too many coincidences.” She frowned. “And there is a sensuality about him, an animalness in his very nature, for want of a better term. He is elemental and magical. You must have sensed it.” She stared at me intently. “Any woman in his sphere of influence would need to take great care with her virtue.”

  I looked away, unwilling to admit my emotions to her, and I wondered what she had surmised about Gerard and me.

  She continued. “I do not know anything for certain, but I pray that you will be careful around him. Do not grow too close, and never be left alone with him. Your life may very well depend on it.”

  Matthew stirred again. “Really, Mariah, you will frighten the poor woman to death with your doom and gloom. Enough of this. Let us talk of more pleasant things.”

  He turned to me. “I mentioned that we have a yearly autumn festival on Ynys Nos. We hold the celebration in the market square, and I have the great honor of opening the ceremony and blessing the crops and cattle for the next year. It is a carryover from pagan times, of course, but the church has taken it over as a feast day.” He smiled. “There is a great deal of dancing and food and merriment. It is two days hence, begins at sunrise and lasts until sunset. I hope you will consider being our guest.”

  I smiled. “I would like that. It will give me an opportunity to meet the townspeople.” And for them to meet me. Perhaps if they met me, they would be more inclined to believe the best of me and not the worst.

  I stayed to chat for a while until I eventually noticed it was dark outside. I had arrived late, and the sun had set while we conversed. The footmen awaiting me would appreciate being home for their evening meal in the kitchen.

  “I should go,” I said, rising reluctantly. The warmth of the fire and the Pangburns’ cozy cottage reminded me more of my own home than Alexander Hall ever could.

  Matthew did not attempt to rise but took my hand instead. “We will call for you early Saturday morning for the festival, then.”

  “I look forward to it,” I assured him. “I hope your injury will be much improved by then.”

  At that moment, a hard rap sounded at the front door, but before anyone could answer, it swung open preemptively and a darkly frowning Gerard strode in.

  It seemed he still hadn’t learned the trick of waiting to enter until asked.

  “Oh,” Mrs. Howard said on a little breath and curtsied a short bob. Her fingers tangled nervously in her skirts. “Master. What a—what a surprise to see you here.” />
  He wore no hat, and the wind had blown his thick black hair so that it lay in careless waves across his forehead. He brushed it away with an impatient hand, barely acknowledging Mrs. Howard with a formal nod before his gaze swept back to my hand still clasped in Matthew’s.

  She blinked and her mouth tightened.

  This is the only thing I can give… I’ll pull you down, take you like an animal, and leave you without a backward glance.

  Gerard’s words echoed in my mind, and I was sorry for her. Could I have expected any better from him had I given in to my desire last night?

  “Pangburn.” He nodded to Matthew. “Catherine,” he said to me by way of greeting, his tone indicating he was not at all surprised to find me here and not the least bit happy about it, either.

  Matthew released me, pushed up from his chair, and gingerly balanced his weight on his good leg. “Master. Welcome. I do not believe you have visited us here in…ever. What brings you, I wonder, to our humble home?” His question was spoken wryly, his glance in my direction indicating he knew perfectly well the answer.

  I expected a set-down for leaving the Hall without Gerard’s knowledge or permission, and for disappearing for most of the day. However, he simply scowled at Matthew and surprised us all by saying, “Catherine tells me you are injured. Why did you not send for me?”

  Matthew shrugged. “It is nothing.”

  Gerard pointed to the chair the vicar had vacated. “I will be the judge of that. Sit.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Matthew obeyed.

  With a glance over his shoulder at me, Gerard moved to Matthew’s side, and sweeping his coattails back, sat on the footstool before him. He put his hand over Matthew’s knee and closed his eyes.

  “It isn’t too bad…this will only take a moment…” he muttered.

  I half watched Gerard, but from the corner of my eye I examined Mrs. Howard’s reaction to him. I couldn’t help it. Even though she seemed to look everywhere but at him, her gaze kept straying again and again to his broad shoulders clad dramatically in black. And could I blame her? Gerard, for all his darkness, shined like a beam of light in the night. He was bigger, harder, more masculine than any other man I had ever met. He drew the feminine eye. He was simply…more. Even with his elegant gestures and fine-tailored suits, there was something untamed about him that put to shame any other male in his vicinity.

 

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