Spencer ignored her perplexed expression and steered them to the doorway to the great hall. She’d kept him guessing for so many years that, while it might be petty of him, it felt rather good to have her on her toes for a change. As they entered the room, Katherine ceased her pacing and Finella looked away.
“Good evening,” he said.
Katherine whirled toward them. “How dare you bring that strumpet to dine with us! Have you no shame?”
Spencer smiled serenely, “Not a drop. If it offends you so deeply, you may certainly take a tray in your room… We will endeavor to see that you receive untainted food, though it would appear the same courtesies were never afforded me.”
“What are you talking about?” Katherine sneered.
“He is talking about Devil’s Trumpet,” Larissa answered for him. “His so-called madness was not the result of any curse, but rather the application of a drug… clearly by someone skilled in herbalism, such as yourself.”
“I will not tolerate such accusations!” Katherine said stiffly. “Certainly not from a woman of easy virtue! Had you planned this all along? That you would come here and seduce your way into his bed… and into the role of countess?”
“Enough!” Spencer said, his voice just shy of a shout. That single word was spoken with all the command he could muster. Clearly it had some effect because Katherine clamped her lips together. For once her face was not schooled in a polite mask but etched with fury that showed her age. “You will speak to Larissa civilly or you will leave … this room or Kinraven, altogether!”
“Where would I go?” she demanded.
“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you began insulting my fiancée,” he stated evenly. “It would behoove you, Katherine, to remember that I have no legal obligation to provide for you… and my moral one only goes so far.”
“I will take a tray in my room,” she said stiffly and vacated the great hall.
Finella shook her head sadly. “The girl had high hopes for you, sir. High hopes.”
Spencer turned on the older woman, “And whose fault is that? Who has instilled in her from day one the belief that she is the all-important key to breaking the Kinraven curse? You, madam, have urged her to throw herself at every man who has inherited the earldom. None have taken up the challenge and all have met a bitter end… It hardly sounds like a coincidence.”
Finella rose and leaned heavily on her cane. “Watch your tongue, young man!”
“Or what? You will poison me again? I’ll throw myself from the tower and drown in the loch below like my predecessor? What happened to the one before him, Finella?”
“You will be able to ask him on the other side, no doubt. You’ve courted ruin just as they did,” she said bitterly as she left the room.
“Well, that is one way to ensure that we have a quiet dinner alone,” Larissa said, blandly.
Spencer laughed in spite of everything. “I didn’t want to reveal too much to them, but I hope that knowing we are aware of their schemes will either stay their hand entirely or prompt them to do something foolish enough to end this once and for all.”
“Do you really think that they will?” she demanded as she took a seat at the table. A footman, still wide eyed from the earlier exchange, pushed her chair in.
“No. I do not. They’ve managed to outlast five earls at this point… but one never knows; Katherine’s beauty won’t last forever. They’re running out of time and they both know it,” he said. “If their aim is to marry their way back into the Kinraven title, they will need to act quickly.”
“I understand why you referred to me as you fiancée to Katherine, but you understand, that I am as yet undecided on the matter.”
Spencer gestured for the footman to fill his wine glass. “You have made your reluctance quite clear. And I am resolved to change your mind, let’s be clear on that, too.”
The remainder of the meal was passed in tense silence.
Lord Moreland planted an elbow in Stydham’s gut as the man once again leaned against him in their hired carriage. He’d gone to visit his estranged wife and come back with the necessary funds for their journey. It was lucky for them that Briarleigh was generous with his mother-in-law. They had taken the mail coach to Edinburgh though the driver had balked at Stydham’s rotund frame. Speed was their watchword, after all, and the man’s bulk would slow the carriage. An extra bit of coin had gotten them through however. It had taken even more coin to get the driver of the hired coach to take them on through the night. Even at that rate, it had taken two days to reach Fort William and it would be another day of hard traveling to reach Kinraven, assuming the weather held and Stydham’s girth or gout didn’t slow them down.
“Get off me, you oaf!” Moreland barked.
Stydham woke up with a start. “What? Can’t a man catch a bit of sleep while in this infernal box? We could have stopped at an inn!”
“No we could not! We have little enough money and I’ll not have you eating it all up while slavering over a tavern wench’s bosom! Sit up for god’s sake!”
“I don’t understand the rush! Why couldn’t we just wait for her to come back from Scotland?” Stydham whined.
“Because, you bloody fool, I would only have to drag her back here to marry her. Scotland requires no license, no reading of the banns. If I can get to her here while Briarleigh is still in London attempting to salvage what remains of her reputation, I can have her wedded and bedded before he even gets wind of it!”
“What if she says no? She’s a willful chit. Always was,” Stydham groused.
“There are always unscrupulous clerics that can be bribed to ignore a bride’s protestations,” Moreland said. “That’s how I got my first wife. And my second.”
“And both of them died!”
“They’d ceased to be useful,” Moreland replied shortly. “I’ll have Larissa’s marriage settlement or the Courts will drag Briarleigh through the mud. And while we’re living comfortably on that, she’ll be using her special skills to direct my investments and my card play. We will be living in comfort again.”
“That’ll be a fine thing,” Stydham agreed happily.
Moreland smiled but said nothing. Once he had the girl, Stydham would be unnecessary and he could finally rid himself of the burdensome man. For the moment, it advantageous to allow him to believe that those visions of future comfort included him. Moreland leaned back against the seat. “It is my turn to nap. You can stay awake and be certain the driver doesn’t send us into a loch.”
After their silent dinner, Larissa rose. “I believe I will retire. It has been a long and trying evening.”
“I will escort you to your room,” Spencer offered. “Heaven knows what lurks in these dark halls.”
Larissa shivered at that. She wanted to protest that she did not need him to accompany her, but the truth was, she would feel better having him by her side even though their discord continued to mount.
“Thank you,” she managed. “Your concern is much appreciated. Shall we go check on Mary and John before we retire?”
“No. I checked in with Seamus just before dinner. He’s set to watch over them both tonight. Colin, the young footman who helped in the search for Mary, is assisting in watching over them as well. I believe he and John are related; cousins, perhaps.”
As they walked up the stairs, Larissa was conscious of his nearness. He did not touch her, but then he did not have to. Memories swamped her of the feel of his body, the strength and surprising gentleness of his touch, the heated mastery of his mouth on her skin. Would she ever be able to be near him and not be haunted by such thoughts?
“I do not have to return to my chamber tonight,” she said. “In truth, the damage is done. Why bother to hide the turn our relationship has taken?”
“Because I will not have you a mistress,” he said softly. “It may cost me dearly and I will suffer through the agony of wanting you, but I will not have you if you only mean to offer me just a small part of
you.”
Frustrated, stung by his refusal, Larissa whirled on him. “What is that you want of me?”
He touched her face, his hand cupping her cheek as his thumb traced her lower lip. There was such longing in that touch, such tenderness that it made her ache. He leaned close, his breath fanned against her ear. “Everything,” he whispered. “I want every part of you… heart, mind, body, soul. That is what I would give to you as well.”
“Why do you say such things? You make me want things I shouldn’t… It would be a social disaster for you to marry me! Can’t you see that I’m trying to do what’s right for you?” she demanded as tears threatened.
“Can’t you see that there is nothing more right for me than to be with a woman I have loved with a constancy that is staggering? Even without hope of my affection being returned, even without hope of ever having any regard beyond that of friendship, my feelings for you have remained unchanged! Do you honestly think that I would value the invitation to a ball more than I would value that?”
“It’s more than that… social cachet is currency, Spencer. What of investments? What of political aspirations? What of our children if we were to have them? Would you have them scrutinized by everyone in society for some resemblance to Moreland?”
“I have Rhys and Michael for investments. Neither have ever steered me wrong. I have no political aspirations. And if you were to bear my child, I would be too blessed and too happy and that child would be too loved for anything else to matter. Stop creating obstacles, Larissa. Stop letting fear rule your life!”
She wanted to. The urge to say yes, to take what she wanted and damn the consequences was so strong. “And if our children are like me? If they are cursed with the so-called gifts of the Walters family? What then?”
“They will have the guidance of their mother and their aunt to see them through… and the acceptance of their father, though I daresay I would be of little practical assistance.”
She stared into his eyes, seeking to find if something lurked there beyond complete sincerity but she could not find what did not exist. “You really mean that… It would not matter to you?”
“Not in the least. The man who was known as my father… he had no patience for me, no acceptance, even as a child, when I was too young to understand what a bastard was.”
“Take me to your chamber,” she urged. “Tell me everything, and then take me to your bed.”
“Is this your acceptance of my proposal?” he demanded.
Larissa smiled. “Against my better judgement, yes. I find I haven’t the will to resist anymore, my dearest. I only pray you do not come to regret it!”
“If I take you to my chamber—.”
“If?” she asked incredulously.
He grinned. “When… we will not be talking. At least not for a good long while.”
“Then we should not dally here because you have a long day ahead of you.” She punctuated the statement by grasping the lapels of his jacket and tugged him forward as she rose on her tiptoes. Even then, tall as he was, it required his cooperation to seal their agreement with a kiss. Dutifully, he dipped his head and met her lips.
Chapter Thirteen
The following morning, Spencer awoke early. It had been a sleepless night yet he felt invigorated. Larissa still slept, curled on her side in his bed. Reluctantly, he rose and pulled the bed curtains more tightly to shield her from the morning light. Afterward, he crossed to the window and looked out. The snow was almost entirely gone, though patches of it remained, dark and dingy. The sky was cloudless even as dawn broke, but in Scotland that meant little. The weather could be unpredictable at best, capricious and cruel at worst.
“Are you leaving me already?”
He smiled at the sleepy voice behind him, muffled by the bed clothes. He turned to see her emerging from the bed, clad only in her chemise. She tempted him like no other woman ever had, but the journey to Fort William and the solicitor could not be delayed, not even for such perfection. She moved toward him and looped her arms about his waist, cuddling into his chest.
“I have to,” he said, and dropped a kiss on her nose. “I will be as quick as possible in meeting with the solicitor and will return her no later than tomorrow night.”
“And the servants?” she asked.
“All the arrangements are made. The coachman is to take Fergus directly to Edinburgh. He raised a fuss, saying that Stirling or Glasgow would suffice, but he relented.”
She stepped back and retrieved her discarded garments from the floor. As she donned her petticoat, she asked, “And Mrs. Agatha? Did she protest spending her day in the village?”
“No. She has an extensive lists of wine to order from the wine merchant… most of which are quite rare and costly. She’s also been given next to impossible prices to bargain for. That should keep her away from here for most of the day.”
Larissa paused as she tightened her front lacing stays. “That was rather devious on your part… Wine merchants are notoriously difficult hagglers.”
“I am well aware… She’ll also be haggling with the butcher and the chandler,” he said with a grin. He was determined to give her adequate time to safely search both Mrs. Agatha’s and Fergus’ room. On that note, his expression grew serious again. “Since Fergus is not to come back for days, search her room first. That way you can take your time and you will not need to rush. Dorcas needs to be positioned somewhere that she can distract Mrs. Agatha loudly and give you time to exit the room.”
She donned her gown and then presented her back to him. “I know all of this, already. I did not make a career out of such things as you did, but I am hardly incompetent. I did have an older sister that I spied on quite regularly as a child!”
He kissed her neck as he tightened the laces of her gown. “The consequences of being caught by Emme will hardly signify when compared to the consequences here!”
“You,” she said, as she turned to face him, “were clearly an only child. Hell hath no fury like an older sister whose journal has been purloined! Now, you must be careful… I cannot help but feel that there is danger afoot.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are your visions returning then?”
“Not entirely, no. But I do have an intuition about this, and I feel that there is great deal of danger, so you must promise to take every precaution… and come back to me safely.”
He hugged her tightly to him. “I dislike leaving you here, but fear what could happen to John, Mary and the others if I were to take you with me.”
“I’ll see to their safety… between Forrester, Seamus and Colin, they’ve not been left unguarded, although I daresay Gertrude is a far more intimidating figure than any of the men.”
He chuckled. “She is quite fierce.”
“So am I. You needn’t worry about me while you’re gone,” Larissa promised stoutly.
“I will always worry about you. So, you’re dabbling with Finella’s book, when will that undertaking occur?”
“I’m going to attempt it this morning,” she said. “If I can manage to reverse whatever it is that our unknown witch has done to essentially blind me here, then my search of Fergus’ and Mrs. Agatha’s quarters will be much faster and hopefully far more successful. I ought to have done it last night, but some things are simply more important to me than spells.”
Spencer had not bothered to ring for Forrester, but had washed and dressed in simple clothes. The jacket was not his finest, the boots not his best. Travel throughout the Highlands was fraught with the risk of highwaymen. It would be to his benefit to look less than a plump purse.
“I must go,” he said. “Be careful.”
“I will, and you must promise to do the same,” she entreated.
Spencer nodded and headed for the door, as he reached it, he turned back to her. “I love you.”
Larissa’s heart thundered in her chest. Those words, spoken with such sincerity and such simplicity, cut right through her. “And I you… more than I have words to
say.”
He stood there for the longest moment, their gazes locked and then with a muttered curse, he broke away and exited the room. Left to stare after him, Larissa felt the cold reality of his departure. There was so much at stake, not just for them but for every man and woman of Kinraven.
“Pull yourself together,” she whispered and quickly exited the room. There were no early morning encounters with the disapproving housekeeper as she traversed the long corridor back to her own room.
As she entered, Dorcas grumbled something unintelligible and managed to sit up. “Just ‘cause you choose not to sleep through the night doesn’t mean I shouldn’t get to!”
Larissa ignored Dorcas’ ill temper and focused on the matter at hand. “Did you get the things I asked you to yesterday?” From her study of the grimoire, she’d made a list of herbs and other items. She’d set Dorcas to obtain them, so it was anyone’s guess what she’d actually returned with.
Dorcas got out of bed and crossed to the small wardrobe where she retrieved a parcel wrapped in one of Larissa’s shawls. As she moved toward the small table with it, Larissa noted that Dorcas’ night rail looked familiar. “Are you wearing my clothes?”
Dorcas shrugged. “You’re for certain not going to be wearing ‘em. I got everything you asked for that could be found… couldn’t find no onyx. But I got salt and lots of it, though I don’t think Gertrude much wished to part with so much of it.”
Larissa nodded. “I think I might have something that will work.” Once again she went to the wardrobe and retrieved a small box that contained her jewelry. Inside, she found the brooch that had been a gift from her aunt, Lady Isabella Harding. It was more than likely a piece of jewelry that the woman had not cared for herself. The heavy onyx stone in a silver setting had been far too severe for a girl of only fifteen when it had been given to her. Larissa, of late, had taken to pinning it in her hair for formal events or it would never have been packed.
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