“Haelan discovered the diary.”
“He took it to a witch who lived on the fringes of the clan. She put a curse on the book and the souls of both Marguerite and Sinjin. To prevent them ever being reunited, she placed a curse on both our houses, so that none of us could ever meet and fall in love—without pain.”
“How long have you known?”
Would the truth help or hurt his cause? he wondered.
He decided it didn’t matter. Only the truth would do.
“All my life, I suppose. The diary has been passed down, along with the warning of the curse. But when I first saw you, no curse could have stopped me from wanting you.
From risking such a fate. When you looked at me, Beth, well… My soul knew yours.”
She touched him, caressed his cheeks, tried to see him. She was checking for insincerity. Lies. She would find none.
The hardest thing he ever did, beside walk away from her all those years ago, was to leave her then. To kiss her softly and whisper goodbye, when all he really wanted to do was to make love to her, make her understand he regretted everything in his past—except her. Except the days they had spent together.
She held him, gripped his hands. “Do you believe in the curse?”
“Nay, lass,” he murmured, making her smile at the sound of his brogue. “I believe we either curse ourselves, or free ourselves with our own actions. The only curse we suffer from is the fear we both harbour. It isn’t easy giving it up, but it’s the only way. We either will or we won’t. Either way, that fear still rules us, and until we let it go, we’ll not make our way back to each other. We both have to want it, Beth. Both have to let go of the past, and the fears that bind us, before we can ever be free to move on to a place that is meant only for us.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
TWO NIGHTS LATER, Elizabeth found herself attending the theatre, a first in many years—and never before with Iain as her escort. It gave her a curious feeling to be going with him, a sensation she didn’t want to examine too closely. Especially after what had happened between them.
It was still cold, and the ground was covered with snow, but the streets were passable enough for carriages to dredge through. Besides, the ton had been kept indoors for nearly five nights and they were restless, needing some mindless activity to while away the evening. When Iain had sent around a missive informing her the theatre was on for the night, she had felt a sense of excitement.
She had not seen him or spoken to him since he’d left her sitting at the window bench. She had thought nearly nonstop about the story of Sinjin, and the fact that his lover had been Iain’s great-grandmother. Unfathomable that Sinjin and Marguerite had been lovers over seven centuries before. Strangely, it seemed fitting how it had played out. Though Lizzy didn’t know what to think about the curse. She certainly felt cursed in her connection to Iain Sinclair. But there was longing there—a deep, visceral longing that she could no longer shove to the bottom of her soul.
“Here you go,” he murmured as he helped her to sit in the chair in his personal box. He was careful with her, even sweeping the train of her gown away to protect it from his boots. She had chosen the blue gown she had been wearing at the Sumners’ musicale, the night it all began once more between them. It was a daring move, part of her hoping it might rekindle some of Iain’s sensual intensity.
She shouldn’t have worn it, but a little devil inside her had tempted her beyond reason. Tonight she wanted to be stunning, a sensual creature he couldn’t take his eyes off of. She had felt his gaze on the expanse of bosom displayed by her low neckline. The moment he’d taken her cloak from her shoulders, she had heard his indrawn breath, felt the heat of his eyes. But he had refrained from saying anything, even complimenting her. Now she felt hurt, and slightly reckless, wishing to lash out. He confused her thoughts, her ordered life.
“A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” he said as he leaned toward her. “Fitting, considering the foot of snow outside.”
Fanning herself, she smiled. Whether he wondered about her silence since they had emerged from the carriage, she could not tell. He seemed distracted himself, as though he were busy looking for someone. Who that might be, she could not imagine, and it was something she most definitely did not want to dwell on.
Thankfully, Black and Isabella chose that moment to enter their box.
“Oh, what a magnificent view!” Isabella exclaimed.
“I’m so glad I brought my opera glasses. I shall be able to see everything, Lizzy, and give you a very good accounting of it all.”
Elizabeth could imagine Iain gloating over the compliment about his theatre box. Perhaps he was even now using its spectacular view to search the crowd for someone more interesting than her.
“You’re looking very lovely tonight, Elizabeth,” Black murmured as he took her hand and kissed her gloved knuckles. “The roses in your cheeks are most becoming.”
“Black, you are a shameless flatterer.”
“Nonsense, Lizzy.” He laughed. “I’m never shameless.”
“No, he’s not,” Iain drawled, “but he is bloody pompous.”
Lizzy could not contain her smile. “Horrid man, isn’t he, Black?”
“Indeed he is. Why you agreed to lend him an air of respectability tonight I shall never understand.”
“Me, either,” she said with a pout.
“Good evening.” The dark, honeyed voice seeped from the curtains. Elizabeth felt Iain tense beside her as she held out her gloved hand. “Lord Sheldon, what a surprise.”
He clasped her hand, kissed her fingers and gave them a light squeeze. “I saw you from my box and had to come over. Lady Elizabeth, you look like an angel tonight.” She flushed, and she wondered if Iain noticed it.
“Thank you, my lord.”
“What are you doing here, Sheldon?” Iain grumbled.
“Taking in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. ”
“No, I meant what are you doing in my box?”
“Admiring the view.”
“The stage is the other direction,” he snapped.
Oh, dear, what the devil was going on? Brow furrowed, Lizzy searched for a neutral topic. “What did you think of the snow, my lord? It’s your first since coming home.”
“Spectacular. Jack decided to bury himself in it.” “I should have liked to see that. Cheeky Jack.” The earl laughed, and she became aware of Iain’s sudden darkness, a brooding animosity that seemed to grow as he sat beside her.
“You’ve said your salutations, Sheldon, now get out.” Elizabeth gasped at his rudeness, but Sheldon seemed to brush it off. He certainly was in no rush to obey him. “I did as you said, closed my eyes and inhaled the air when it was snowing. And do you know, it smelt just like that afternoon when we were walking.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you did. I wondered if you would remember.”
“I do remember, Lady Elizabeth. I’ve learned never to question your senses, for they’re quite remarkable.”
“Why, thank you, my lord. And how is Jack doing, cooped up in the house, unable to go on his jaunts?”
“Restless. Destructive. He’s chewed the toes of my finest boots.”
“Well, hopefully it won’t be too long before he is getting you out of the house for a good run.”
“As to that, I wonder, Elizabeth, if the weather stays clear, might you be up for another visit to Temple Church?
I’ve made a discovery I would like to show you.”
“I have made a discovery as well, my lord.”
“Is that so?” he asked, then helped himself to the empty chair beside her, ignoring Iain’s grunt of warning. “What nature was your discovery?”
“The Veiled Lady.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, she was Marguerite, after all, just as you suspected.”
“Miraculous. And how did you come across that fact?”
“Lord Alynwick possessed some information.” She heard Iain mumble something under his breath. It sounded very im
polite, bordering on hostile.
“I shall look forward to hearing all the details very soon. I’ll call on you, if that is permissible.”
“Yes, it is,” she said, at the same time Iain muttered,
“No, it is not.”
Flipping her fan open, Elizabeth hastily beat the air while Sheldon took his leave.
“You are insufferable,” she hissed.
“I’m insufferable? What the devil were you doing, encouraging him to come around like a dog sniffing for scraps?”
She gasped, snapped her fan shut. “Just what are you inferring?”
“Damn you,” he growled, “must you encourage him, and within my hearing?”
“I don’t know what you mean. He’s my friend.”
“And I’m what?” he demanded. “Nothing, obviously.
Excuse me,” he murmured, then stood. “I see someone I must speak with.” Then he promptly left the box.
“What the devil was that all about?” Isabella enquired.
“Alynwick’s expression is positively fierce.”
“I think it a private matter, my love. It’s best not to enquire.”
“Well, private matters are the most enticing, aren’t they? They beg enquiries.”
Black laughed. “You are too nosey for your own good.
Now, shh, the curtain is rising.” It was one of the most miserable hours Elizabeth had spent in her life. To be abandoned by Iain, and in his own box, too! Insufferable beast. He’d been gone for the entire first act. And just where was he? What was he doing? To whom did he need to speak? Didn’t he realize that any number of sordid images came springing to mind when she wondered where he was, and why he had left her to the watchful eyes of Black and Isabella?
She couldn’t see him, the lout. And it was agony not being able to, not knowing what kind of a fool he was making of her. When at last the curtain lowered, signal-ling intermission, Elizabeth rose with as much dignity as she could muster and allowed herself to take Black’s offered arm.
“Let us get some punch,” he suggested.
“Yes, that would be lovely,” Isabella agreed, but Elizabeth could hear the concern in her friend’s voice. When she next found Alynwick she was going to give him a piece of her mind!
They made their way through the crowd to the lobby.
Black passed her a cup of punch, but she hesitated to drink it, fearing she might spill it on her gown. She despaired of ever finding Iain in the crush but then she heard his voice, the silky, seductive laugh, the low voice of a man bent on seduction.
“Come, Lady Larabie,” he murmured, “I’m sure it wasn’t all that horrible.”
“An evening without you, my lord, is sheer purgatory.” Well, there really was nothing more revolting than Alynwick whispering to a lady—and a married one at that.
“You haven’t been to see me,” the woman said in pouting tones. “I’m heartbroken, my lord.” Alynwick’s reply was a mumble, intentional no doubt, for he knew Lizzy’s hearing was acute, and that he saw her standing there, able to listen to their conversation.
“Darling, you must come by the club. What fun we could have. Orpheus, you know, has all kinds of little tricks to indulge in.”
Lizzy’s ears perked up at that. What the devil was Alynwick up to? she wondered. Was Lady Larabie involved in some scheme involving Alynwick, and Orpheus, of all people? Perhaps she should inform Sussex of the matter.
There was a shuffling of bodies, followed by a demure little purr, and Lizzy felt like dumping the contents of her punch glass over Alynwick’s head.
“Another time, perhaps,” he said. “Adieu.”
“Good night, my lord. I will be home tonight, if you desire more…varied and sophisticated entertainment.” Oooh, that witch was looking right at her. Elizabeth knew it. When Alynwick came to stand beside her, she was positively fuming. “Take me home.”
“We just arrived.”
“I don’t give a damn, take me home.”
“Elizabeth, calm yourself.” He reached for her, but she tugged her arm free of his grasp. How dare he do this to her!
“I will do no such thing, my lord. How dare you make a mockery of me like this, talking to that…that woman?”
“That woman,” he hissed in her ear, “is Guardian business, and I need her cooperation. I hadn’t intended to meet up with her here tonight, but when I saw her, I had to keep up pretences.”
“If you hadn’t planned on meeting her here tonight, then where had you intended to meet up with her?
When?”
“Not here, Elizabeth. People are starting to stare. Let it alone. She’s Guardian business I need as a contact.
There is nothing else to it.”
“You fought a duel for her!”
“Not for her, but for the Brethren,” he whispered harshly. “She’s supplying me with information about Orpheus.”
“I don’t care what you’re getting from her, take me home.”
“I think you do care, what I’m getting, and perhaps giving,” he said huskily in her ear.
Pinching her lips together, Lizzy turned, sought to find a way out of this hell that was forming around her, but he was there, latching on to her arm. “Where the hell are you going?”
“Back home. This was a mistake. I should have known better than to trust you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a rake, and a bloody heartless one at that. You haven’t changed at all. You brought me here to flaunt your latest conquest in my face. She has nothing to do with Brethren Guardian business, and everything to do with slaking your lust!”
They were outside now, and Lizzy felt a measure of relief as the cool air kissed her cheeks. Damn him for discomposing her before everyone.
“Elizabeth—”
“I am through discussing this with you. Call for the carriage, if you please.”
“As your ladyship demands,” he said in mocking tones.
“Waste of a bloody night.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Although it hasn’t all been a wash. You did manage to discover the fact that your mistress misses you in her bed. Hardly a startling revelation.”
“Oh? Do you miss me in yours, Beth?” She would not answer that. Would not. She couldn’t.
“In your wildest fantasies, Alynwick,” she grunted.
“Isn’t that the truth?” he mumbled as he helped her up into the carriage and slammed the door. They were off, and the silence in the cab was overbearing. She couldn’t stand it, the way her mind kept drifting back to that woman, and her voice, and the stench of a cloying perfume.
“I’ll stay to make certain you’re settled in.”
“You will set me down at my house, then take yourself off,” she demanded haughtily.
He reached for her, grabbed her chin in his hand. “I will check the locks and windows before leaving you,” he said as his foot slid across the floor of the carriage, only to rest between her legs. “My gut is on the alert tonight. Something is in the air.”
“Yes, I smell it, too. It’s called unfettered debauchery.” He grunted. “Are you offering, Beth? Because I would, of course, be more than happy to accept such an offer from you. You’ve turned into such a plump armful that I couldn’t resist.”
“Go to hell,” she snapped, hating how he made her lose her cool elegance.
“Already been, my dear. The service was not up to my standards.”
It was such an Alynwick thing to say! He hadn’t changed, not one bit. She thought she had seen another side to him, but she had been wrong. It was all an act.
And she had fallen for it. She ignored him after that, allowed her thoughts to run riot through her mind.
When they exited the carriage, she barely waited for his assistance. When Hastings opened the door, Maggie was there waiting for her, and Lizzy took her companion’s hand, anxious to be away from him.
“Well, how was your evening?”
“Insipid. Uninspired and downright intolerable.
”
“Oh, dear,” Maggie whispered as she steered her to her chamber door. “As bad as all that?”
“And then some. Maggie,” she said, “fetch the writing box. I have a letter to pen to my brother, and it needs to be posted first thing on the morrow. And Lord Alynwick is to be escorted out. Now!”
IAIN WATCHED ELIZABETH climb the stairs. She was in high dudgeon, her cheeks flushed. Her magnificent bosom in that scandalously low-cut dress was heaving, drawing his gaze.
You’re jealous, he thought delightedly as he followed her progress up the stairs. Positively green with it.
She’d treated him like offal, like dog dung on the toe of her boot. He should be furious with her, but how could he be, knowing that wonderful performance all stemmed from jealousy? It was unfortunate that Georgiana had been there tonight, looking directly into his box with her glasses. He hadn’t wanted to go to her, but had to keep up some semblance of interest. He had not seen her since that night he’d left her at the club. He didn’t need her any longer, and certainly didn’t need the complication she presented with Elizabeth, but it was better to keep her placated. Enemies were always best kept close. And Georgiana, he knew, would be a dangerous enemy. Especially after what he’d learned from Sheldon.
Iain had no wish to draw Elizabeth into his scheme, but it had happened.
He would protect her from Georgiana. He’d seen the way the woman had looked at Beth—with a blazing hatred in her jaded eyes. Beth in turn had heard the cutting remark Georgiana had made. It had infuriated her, and gave him hope that Beth might still be his.
He understood jealousy. He’d been green, too, tonight, when Sheldon had come round, sniffing at Elizabeth’s skirts. Oh, how smooth and skilled the detective was, so easily discovering Elizabeth’s weakness and handing it to her on a silver platter. Iain had never been gifted in conversation. His tongue was not glib and light. He had no knack for politeness or mundane social conversation. The fact had never bothered him before, but he’d felt damn inferior tonight, sitting in that chair, watching the two of them. How easily she conversed with Sheldon, while with him, she was guarded, standoffish. Always searching for his true motivations. He couldn’t blame her for that. He’d done much to earn her distrust.
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