The Victorian Gothic Collection: Volumes 1-3

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The Victorian Gothic Collection: Volumes 1-3 Page 15

by Bowlin, Chasity


  Tromley indicated she should follow and then led her to a rough wooden door in the corridor that led down into the kitchens. A feeling of foreboding swept through her, so strong and terrifying that her knees very nearly buckled from it. She pressed her hands to the walls on either side of the corridor in order to remain upright. In front of her, Tromley opened that door and she heard Eldren’s shout and then a loud percussive boom, almost as if something had exploded.

  “Oh, dear heaven,” she whispered in horror, just before she rushed through that open door with Tromley protesting behind her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The force of it had knocked him flat. He could feel the trickle of blood from his nose and from a cut on his cheek. His back was abraded and bruised from being knocked backwards onto the stone floor. Bits of dust and debris still fell from the ceiling and walls, covering him in it. It stuck to his damp skin and hair, coating him in it.

  “Eldren!”

  Despite the ringing in his ears from the blast, he could hear her. “Stay back, Adelaide! I’m well enough.”

  “You are not,” she said, though her voice was much calmer than it had been before he responded to her. She rounded the corner from the stairs and her eyes widened. “What on earth happened?”

  “I don’t know yet,” he said. “Stay where you are. I’m not certain how sound these chambers are now.”

  “I heard what sounded like an explosion,” she said, her face white with fear.

  It had sounded like an explosion. Perhaps it was one. Perhaps some build up of gases had caused him to hallucinate those bizarre sounds and the terrifying image of that blackness forming at the end of the corridor. But he didn’t believe that. He believed that the power of whatever inhabited the very brick and mortar of Cysgod Lys was growing stronger, more violent, and more determined. Why? What change had been wrought?

  The answer to that question was quite simply the woman who now stood behind him. From the moment of Adelaide’s arrival, things had shifted, becoming much more different. She wasn’t wicked or evil or contributing to the darkness. Of that he was certain, but she was a catalyst of some sort. Did it fear her? Had her promises to see his family’s suffering come to an end challenged that dark entity?

  Still reeling from the events and more concerned than ever for the innocent young woman he’d inadvertently drawn into a potentially deadly situation, Eldren turned and fled the darkened chambers. He grasped Adelaide’s arm and hurried her up the stairs. “It isn’t safe down there,” he insisted.

  “Was it the gas lines or was it something worse?” she asked softly.

  “I don’t know. But we need to discuss it privately. I don’t want the servants any more unsettled than they already are… so for the sake of everyone else, it was a malfunctioning gas line and from now forward the cellars are off limits.”

  Adelaide nodded her agreement. “I fear your nose is broken.”

  “Will it make me so very ugly, then?” he asked, as they emerged into the relative safety of the corridor.

  “You know it will not.”

  Eldren didn’t smile. There was still far too much at stake. He turned to Tromley, “There was a problem with the gas lines below. The cellars entirely off limits.”

  “The wine cellar, my lord?”

  “It’s likely a loss, but even if it isn’t, until everything has been thoroughly inspected I don’t want anyone in there… that includes you, Tromley. New wines can be purchased from the wine merchant in town and some alternative to the root cellar must be established. No one goes in or out of that door until I say so.”

  “Certainly, my lord.”

  “Tromley, please have supplies and fresh, clean water sent up to his lordship’s chambers so that we might tend his wounds,” Adelaide instructed.

  “Yes, my lady. I will see to everything,” the butler promised.

  Eldren moved toward the stairs, Adelaide beside him. The aches and pains were beginning to sink in, along with the realization that he had very nearly died. What would have become of Adelaide if he had?

  “You are thinking about what might have been, not what actually occurred,” she observed.

  “Do you know me so well after so short a time?” he asked her.

  “I know what it is to face death, to cheat it, and reflect afterward,” she reminded him. “First, with the sinking of the Mohegan and again at the hotel only yesterday. Eldren, it is toying with us. It wants us to fear it.”

  There was truth to what she said. He conceded, “If it can manipulate water in a hotel more than a hundred miles from here, surely the gas lines in the cellars are not such an impossible feat.”

  They reached his chambers and he gratefully sank down onto one of the chairs before the fire, mindful to lean forward lest he shed blood on the upholstery. Of course, there were greater concerns. They’d been shown in no uncertain terms that the mantra of his youth, shadows cannot hurt you, was patently untrue. It could cause harm, real and lasting.

  Maids entered then, carrying bandages and the god-awful concoctions that the cook insisted were good for every minor ailment or injury.

  “Put them there,” Adelaide said, gesturing to the table beside him. “Then you may go. I’ll tend to him.”

  When they were alone again, she approached him and knelt before him. Taking a damp cloth, she began to carefully clean the blood from his face.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he said. “I can tend to myself.”

  She didn’t stop her ministrations, but there was a slight hiccup in her movements. When she spoke, her voice was pitched low, and there was a note in it of dread. “Things have changed between us. Haven’t they? Isn’t that why you kissed me this morning before we left Chester?”

  She thought he was rejecting her, he realized, when the truth was that he was offering her the opportunity to reject him. “How can you want that from me when it’s my fault that you are even here to deal with this madness?” Eldren demanded.

  “Do you know that when I crossed that moor the first night, all I could think of was the many ways in which Murial had undermined me at home?” She stated, her tone bitter. “Servants who’d been with me since I was a child suddenly looked at me suspiciously, like I was some vicious animal who might turn on them… She’d have convinced the entire household and my father that I was mad. And crossing that moor, feeling all those terrible things around me, I wondered if perhaps she hadn’t been right after all. Maybe I was mad!”

  “You’re not mad. You’re the least mad person I’ve ever known… except perhaps when it comes to your bravery which now seems to border on recklessness,” he replied. Her hands were smoothing over the planes of his face, each touch economical, graceful, and intended to soothe. But it did not soothe him. It inflamed him.

  When she rose, walked to the side of the chair, and her delicate hands began to stroke the skin of his back, cleaning each of the cuts and scrapes there, Eldren closed his eyes. It had been so long since anyone had touched him so. Intoxicated by that feeling, by the rush of his blood and the sharpness of his desire for her, he could not speak.

  Leaning into him, so that when she spoke it was the merest whisper of sound next to his ear, Adelaide murmured, “I am not so brave as you think, my lord. If I were, I would not be here. I would have sailed back to New York and taken my chances. But I am thankful for that cowardice, whatever may come of it, because it brought me to you.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying… Adelaide, I fear that Warren has done something unspeakable. Something so heinous he may be beyond redemption. What if the madness of my family is taking root in him and this is the first step? And if I am next? I should have sent you away when I still could… or better still, I should never have brought you here to start!”

  “Where else would I go?” She asked. She’d dropped to her knees in front of him, imploring him to understand. “Eldren, we both know that my options are limited if not nonexistent. I’d never have made a decent match in New Yor
k, not after all the lies and gossip that my stepmother has whispered about me for years! And here in England, at best, an old man looking for a nurse maid or a fortune hunter who simply wanted a wealthy wife with no care at all for me. Whatever we face here, I’ll face it gladly rather than be alone again.”

  She was lonelier even than he’d been. Cut off from the world, isolated from it not by curses and the threat of insanity, but by the cold and calculating machinations of her stepmother, Adelaide’s experiences closely mirrored his own in that regard. Reaching out, he caught a strand of her hair that had escaped its coiffure and rubbed it between his fingers, testing the silky texture of it. “I am sorry for what you have suffered. Sorrier still for the suffering that may yet come. I feel as if I’ve done you a disservice in bringing you here, in tying you to me when you had no notion of what it would mean.”

  She cupped his face tenderly. “We are married, Eldren. In the eyes of God and man. I made vows to you and I mean to keep them. I will not abandon you or forsake you simply because things may be difficult. If all the things Muriel said of me over the years, that I was hysterical and overly emotional, that I was a danger to her or to others because I could not control myself—if those things were true, would you leave me?”

  “Of course not,” he answered. “I have given you my promises, for what they are worth, and I would care for you as my wife regardless.”

  “Stop pushing me away. Stop telling me why it’s impossible for us to have any future together or a life together. We both know the danger we currently face… does it not make sense then to seize what happiness we may, while we can?”

  He wanted to say no, to refuse her. If he thought it possible, he’d send her away from him and from Cysgod Lys forever just to keep her safe. But the events at the hotel had proven that no amount of distance would keep the darkness that cursed his family from afflicting her. But that knowledge, that she was now forever tied to whatever evil had attached itself to the Llewellyn family, for once in his life, gave him precisely what he wanted. She was his now, regardless. He meant to stand by his vow that he would not bring children into the world, but he could show her passion. He could indulge in pleasures with her that had been denied him for so long.

  The temptation was too great. Eldren reached for her, tugging her up from the floor until she was sprawled across his thighs. When he kissed her, he did so with one intent. To claim her, to brand her in a way that would leave no doubt as to how much he desired her.

  * * *

  Adelaide’s breath caught. Her heart raced, but not from fear. From the moment she’d first realized that he would be her husband, curiosity and desire had sparked within her. His nearness over the past several days, the heroic way he’d saved her, all followed by the searing kiss they’d shared just that morning, had created an eagerness inside her for just this moment. She didn’t retreat from his kiss, nor did she allow her inexperience to inhibit her. Instead, she responded with an abandon that shocked them both. She kissed him back as fiercely and possessively as he kissed her. Nipping at his lips, pressing herself firmly against his chest and welcoming the sweet invasion of his tongue as he parted her lips. She met each stroke with one of her own, equally carnal and seductive.

  When at last he broke away from her, their labored breathing filling the room, he murmured, “Christ almighty. You will be the death of me.”

  “Am I doing something wrong?”

  “No,” he answered. “You are doing everything right. I’ve never desired a woman as I do you. But when you kiss me that way, Adelaide—I have only so much control and you test it heartily.”

  His voice was rough, husky with what she now recognized was desire. “Is control so very important?”

  “For now it is,” he said. “I don’t want to frighten you.”

  “You won’t,” she insisted.

  When he rose with her in his arms and strode toward the bed, Adelaide clung to him. There was a small bit of fear but it was outweighed and then some by curiosity and by need. She longed for his touch, to feel close to him. Holding her arms out to him, she welcomed the weight of him against her, the firm press of his body against hers. And when he kissed her again, she gave herself up to it entirely.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  They did not go down to dinner, but elected to have a tray brought up to their room. Lying in their bed, the curtains drawn about them as they shared a simple meal of cold meats and cheese.

  Adelaide stretched languorously. He had not made love to her, not fully at any rate. But he had introduced her to the many pleasures that could be had between them without actually consummating their marriage. She blushed just to think of all that had occurred between them, and yet she regretted nothing that had passed, only that which hadn’t.

  “You blush now, when only moments ago you were utterly shameless,” he teased.

  “It isn’t that I lack shame, husband,” she replied smartly, “Only that I was too distracted by other things to pay it any mind.”

  He kissed her shoulder, his teeth grazing the skin, “And what things might those have been?”

  Adelaide reached for a small cut of ham and another bit of bread. “You’re not tricking me into saying anything scandalous.”

  “So long as I can talk you into doing those scandalous things, you may be as circumspect as you choose in your speech,” he replied with a grin.

  It was the happiest and most carefree she had seen him since they’d met, Adelaide reflected. “I like seeing you this way.”

  “Utterly satisfied?”

  “Happy,” she answered. “You seem happy and I don’t think I have ever seen you that way since I came here.”

  He rolled over onto his back. “I haven’t been happy. Not in ages. And this, Adelaide, is only a reprieve. You know that, don’t you? That while we may, for a few hours lock out the world and all the darkness in this house, it must be faced again eventually.”

  She sighed wearily. “I do know that. And since there is no time like the present, what did you mean when you said that Warren had done something heinous?”

  It was apparent from his expression that it was not a topic he wished to discuss. But after a slight pause, he admitted, “Warren admitted that the child Frances carries could be his… that the two of them argued and it became physical. He doesn’t recall the events in their entirety, but Frances stated that he forced himself upon her and he has reason to believe she is being truthful.”

  It was horrifying. Adelaide shivered with the dread of it. “I can’t imagine—it just seems so very out of character for him! I know that I do not know him well, but Warren seems a rather passive individual.”

  “He is,” Eldren admitted. “Warren has always been passive. He was bullied by Alden. Tormented by him truthfully… and our father, as well. Frances, over the years, has added to his misery, and his drunkenness has been enabled by her from the outset. But her bad behavior does not excuse his.”

  “No,” Adelaide agreed. “It does not. What will you do?”

  “The only thing that I can. Frances will have a home here now, as will the child, regardless of what happens,” he answered solemnly.

  “If there is to be a child in this house, then we need to redouble our efforts to eradicate anything unexplainable that is happening here. I sent a letter off to Lord Mortimer before we left Chester. I asked him to bring his most trusted mystics and any other experts in occult phenomenon to Cysgod Lys.”

  His face paled. “I fear that will backfire.”

  “I fear many things, but I’d rather face this head on than to let it slowly drive me mad,” Adelaide responded firmly. “We can face anything together, can’t we?”

  * * *

  Eldren’s stomach clenched and a knot of tension took up residence there. What if they were only making it worse? Reaching out, he clasped Adelaide’s hand and drew it up to his chest, placing it over his heart and holding it there. “You terrify me. Your boldness—what if this is a thing that cannot be best
ed, Adelaide?”

  “I am not bold or brave. Right now, we are cornered. It’s shown us that it will not allow us to simply escape. That leaves fighting it as our only avenue. Whether we best it or not, we cannot simply give in to it.”

  There was some truth to her words. It would not let them run. That much had been proven at the hotel in Chester. “You are right, of course. It’s become much more active since you arrived… and I cannot imagine why. Regardless, we must face it and do our utmost to eliminate this evil from our lives.”

  “We will. When Lord Mortimer arrives, he will know what to do. We will find a way to stop this torment, Eldren. I believe that firmly.”

  He wished that he could have her arrogance on that score, but he did not. The darkness at Cysgod Lys was entrenched, clinging between the stones like the very mortar that held it all together. But he would not say that to her. He would not deprive her of hope.

  Eldren extricated herself from the bed and their tangle of limbs only long enough to remove the tray that held their supper. He placed it on the table before the fire and then returned to her.

  “Tomorrow is soon enough to think about those things,” he insisted. “Tonight, I want to hold you. I want to touch you and discover all the wondrous secrets of your body.”

  “You already did,” she offered with a smile.

  His own lips curved in response. “That you think so is both a boon to my confidence and a testament to just how little you know. No, Adelaide. We have only scratched the surface of sensual pleasures.”

  “Then teach me,” she replied. “We shall whittle the world down until it consists of only the two of us.”

  Eldren joined her on the bed, took her in his arms and kissed her with all the pent up loneliness and desire he’d been burdened with through the years. It was a dangerous thing to let himself feel things for her, to care for her. And yet he found himself unable to resist the temptation of her, and perhaps unwilling. She was his respite, his reward for what felt like ages of self denial.

 

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