by Sandra Heath
“I suppose I should be grateful he hasn’t thrown me out on the streets.”
“Not even he would do that, for no matter what, you’re his legal wife,” Anna pointed out, then she looked at Verity again. “What will you do now?”
“What choice do I have except to go to Grosvenor Square? I can’t return to my uncle, nor can I follow Nicholas, for neither of them want me, and I don’t have any other family.”
Anna put a kind hand over hers. “You can always stay here with us, you know.”
“You’ve already been kind enough.”
“But I don’t like to think of you on your own ...”
“Being on my own would appear to be something to which I must speedily become accustomed,” Verity replied, getting up. “If a hackney coach could be secured, I’ll leave now.”
Upset, Anna rose to her feet as well. “Please don’t rush off! I feel as if you think I want to be rid of you!”
Verity hugged her. “I don’t think any such thing, I merely feel it’s best if I get on with things. Besides, you and Oliver are Nicholas’s friends, and I wouldn’t wish to jeopardize your closeness to him.”
“To Hades with Nicholas!” Anna declared angrily. “I cannot believe now that I ever thought fondly of him, and one thing is certain, he will never be welcome beneath this roof again!”
Fresh tears sprang to Verity’s eyes. “But whatever he’s done, I still love him with all my heart,” she whispered, then caught up her skirts to hurry from the room.
* * *
It was getting dark as Martha and Sadie stood by Davey’s bedside. There was no mistaking the boy’s fever had abated, and his breathing became less labored. Martha leaned forward to put a cool hand to his forehead.
“He begins to mend,” she said incredulously, turning to look at her sister. “I cannot think how, but after all these months, suddenly he begins to mend!”
Sadie nodded, keeping her eyes lowered.
Martha searched her face curiously. “Sadie?”
The other said nothing. Judith’s warnings rang in her ears, and she was terrified that as easily as the witch had lifted the curse, so it could be imposed once more.
Martha continued to study her. “What’s wrong, Sadie? You’ve been strange for some time now, and I’ve been putting it down to worry over Davey, but suddenly I begin to be less sure. Have you something to tell me?”
“No!” Sadie replied quickly.
“I know you too well. Tell me what’s up.”
“There’s nothing wrong, it’s just been Davey, that’s all.” Somehow Sadie managed to meet her sister’s shrewd gaze.
Martha looked intently at her, then at Davey, then back to her again. “I don’t believe you, and I have to wonder why he has so suddenly turned the corner after all this time. I also have to wonder why you, Sadie Cutler, seem so odd about it, it’s almost as if you suddenly expected him to recover.”
“That’s nonsense.”
“Is it?” Martha’s eyes were sharp and suspicious. “Have you made a pact with the witch?” she asked suddenly.
Sadie went white and backed away, but Martha caught her arm.
“Tell me the truth, Sadie!”
Sadie stared miserably at her. “She—she said that if I did something for her, she’d spare Davey.”
Martha’s heart began to sink. “What did you have to do?”
“Get the seal you’d hidden in the church. That’s all, I swear!”
“That’s all! Oh, Sadie, what have you done?” Martha whispered.
“I had to do it—for Davey’s sake!”
Martha looked helplessly at her. “I know why you did it, and I understand, believe me I do, but I wish to God you hadn’t.”
“Why? What’s so important about the seal?”
Martha told her all she knew, and ended with the news that Verity was now Lady Montacute.
Sadie’s complexion was like wax. “Oh, no, please, no ...”
“I’m afraid it’s the truth, Sadie, and if I’m right in all I suspect about the witch, it means Miss Verity is now in danger, just as that other Lady Montacute was centuries ago.”
Martha drew a long breath. “It also means, of course, that Lord Montacute himself has almost certainly fallen into the witch’s power now. The seal is his property, and I’m certain it has been enchanted to gain control over him.”
Sadie’s eyes widened. “But—but it may not be enchanted, it may just be a seal,” she said, trying to convince herself.
“Of course it’s enchanted! Why else would it be of such importance to the witch?” Martha snapped, and turned away with a sigh. “Oh, if only I could think of a way to defeat her...”
At that moment they both heard a carriage enter the far side of the square. They hurried to the window to look out and saw the vehicle’s lamps shining in the gathering autumn dusk as it drew up outside the manor house. They recognized it as Nicholas’s traveling carriage, and glanced at each other as his tall figure alighted.
Then Judith appeared. She had discarded mourning and wore instead a bright flame red gown that was vibrant even in this light. Her chestnut hair was loose, and there was a smile on her lovely face as she ran to fling herself into Nicholas’s arms. Their lips met in a hungry kiss that left little to the imagination, then Judith took his hand and led him toward the manor house. Her hair caught on a low-hanging branch by the gate, and dying leaves scattered over the path, but she hardly seemed to notice as she smiled up at him.
Martha watched them as they walked through the topiary garden, but Sadie’s gaze remained on that low-hanging branch by the gate. Her eyes were alight, and in spite of everything there was suddenly a smile on her lips. Everyone thought Martha was the clever sister, the one with knowledge, while Sadie was just ordinary. But sometimes ordinary sisters knew a thing or two as well, and maybe the witch had just made a grave mistake. In fact, she may have just made the mistake that would cost her everything.
* * *
Judith led Nicholas into the manor house and then turned to face him in the entrance hall, where wall candles cast a warm light over the paneled walls and stone floor. “You came to me, my lord,” she whispered.
He stared into eyes that were suddenly as green as Verity’s had been, but Verity was now no more than an echo on the edge of his memory. He was under the seal’s influence and therefore enthralled by Judith. It was as if he were drugged with laudanum, moving in a dreamlike state where fact and fantasy were one, although somewhere in the depths of his heart he knew something was wrong. He just didn’t care, though, for all he could really think of was this beautiful redheaded woman, and the sensuous invitation on her lips as she moved closer to him.
“Do you want me, my lord?” she breathed, undoing the little buttons at the front of her bodice so that the fullness of her breasts was more apparent.
“You know I do,” he replied, conscious of desire washing helplessly into his veins.
She smiled and continued to undo her bodice until her breasts were completely revealed, the nipples standing out eagerly because she was excited by triumph. He was hers now, and thus her final goal was in sight.
Suddenly he could bear it no more, and he caught her close, putting his parted lips to her throat. She gave a low laugh and pressed her body to his, exulting in his arousal. He could feel all control slipping away. The need to possess her was paramount, and wild exhilarating desire thundered over him as she drew him into a room where no one could see.
He made love to her against the wall, without ceremony or tenderness, just a white-hot passion that engulfed him completely. It was a harsh coupling that the real Nicholas Montacute would have despised. But he wasn’t the real Nicholas anymore, he was finally in Judith’s complete power.
* * *
In the small hours of that night, Sadie slipped silently out into the cold night air, where the smoke from cottage chimneys seemed to hang in the stillness that engulfed the village. There was no moon or stars, and moisture dri
pped occasionally from the trees as she hurried stealthily toward the ford. She crossed to the other side, and then made her way to the manor house gate.
A candle burned in Judith’s bedroom, and two shadows moved against the curtains. Sadie gazed up at them for a while and then turned her attention to the branch on which the witch had caught her hair. All was quiet as she reached up for the red-gold strands, and more leaves fell as her fingers closed determinedly around them.
Her glance flew briefly back to the lighted window. She had been forced to aid and abet evil, but there was nothing to say she could not strike back. Martha may not have thought of a way to defeat the witch, but Sadie Cutler knew what to do....
She hastened back to her cottage, where, in the candlelit kitchen, she began to make Judith’s effigy out of sticks, candle-wax, and bits of cloth. The hairs she tied around the head, and when it was complete she held it up in both hands.
“You’ll be ready on Halloween, and so I dedicate you to that night. At midnight on All Hallows Eve, you’ll come of age, my lovely, and then we’ll see what you can do,” she whispered, then she hid it in a corner near the fire.
When she accompanied Martha to lay out the peddler’s body for burial, the witch’s image would go with her.
* * *
Verity lay alone in her bed at the Grosvenor Square house. A fire burned low in the hearth, and the soft glow warmed the room, but her heart was as cold as ice. She stretched out a hand to where Nicholas should be lying beside her, but the sheets were empty.
She closed her eyes, remembering the times they had made love, and suddenly, for a few sweetly deceiving moments, it seemed he was lying with her again. She felt his lips upon hers, and his body pressing down.
But then the fantasy was over, and she was on her own again. She curled up into a tight ball and hid her face in the pillows.
Chapter Twenty-five
It was cold, dull, and overcast two days later as Wychavon prepared for the peddler’s funeral, but it wasn’t with the burial that the village concerned itself. Instead everyone spoke in shocked whispers about Lord Montacute’s scandalous liaison with Mrs. Villiers, for since his return from London, he had spent nearly every minute at the manor house, and no one was in any doubt as to what he was doing when he was there. It was considered outrageous enough that the admiral’s widow should have discarded mourning so soon, but that she should have so publicly taken a lover was thought very reprehensible indeed.
In addition to that, of course, there was the equally startling fact that his lordship was now married to Verity. Wychavon positively hummed with gossip and speculation, and everyone longed to know the details, but no one knew anything at all. The only fact of any certainty was that Nicholas had deserted his new bride to be with his mistress, and didn’t seem to care who knew.
Joshua was as shocked as everyone else about Nicholas’s return, but he said nothing, nor did he write to Verity in an endeavor to rebuild the bridges between them. His loathing for Nicholas could not have been greater, but Verity’s name was still banished from Windsor House. As far as the old man was concerned, the whole business was now closed forever, but inside he was brokenhearted.
Nicholas spent the night before the peddler’s funeral at the manor house with Judith, and two hours before the burial was to take place, his carriage returned to take him back to the castle. Every curtain around the green twitched as the vehicle arrived, and countless shocked eyes watched as he and his brazen mistress emerged to walk to the gate.
Judith no longer made any attempt to appear respectable, and in spite of the September chill, was wearing nothing over her flame red gown. She still left her bright hair brushed loose, as if to emphasize the flouting of propriety, and there was a defiantly triumphant tilt to her chin as she walked, holding on his arm.
The village saw the effrontery and sinfulness of the scarlet woman, but Martha, who had halted at the manor house gate on her way to collect Sadie in order to prepare the peddler for burial, saw the witch, shadowless, conscienceless, and bent upon wickedness and revenge. What was not so clear to the nurse was what Nicholas thought or felt, for his face gave nothing away. He neither smiled nor frowned, and didn’t glance to the left or right.
Martha’s feelings were mixed. She felt hatred for and fear of Judith, but uncertainty regarding Nicholas. He was bewitched, and his life was in jeopardy, but telling him the truth about Judith would do no good, for sorcery clearly dominated him now. The most certain way to release him would be to place the seal in his hands, for he was its rightful owner, but Judith was hardly likely to have left it where it might be found.
The nurse thought one thing very strange, however, and that was the witch’s obvious air of gloating triumph. It was as if Judith thought victory was already hers, and yet how could it be when a Lady Montacute once again stood in her way? Unless, of course, she still had no idea there was a Lady Montacute. Had Judith’s magic so beguiled Nicholas he hadn’t even mentioned the bride he had deserted in order to come to her?
The wisewoman gathered her shawl closer around her shoulders as they drew near, then she slipped her hand into her pocket to hold the holy wafers. Nicholas might not be entirely beyond redemption, and it was up to her to do what she could to make him remember that which enchantment may have made him forget. She ignored Judith and spoke only to Nicholas. “Good morning, my lord.”
His eyes swung to her. “Miss Cansford?”
Judith’s gaze flashed furiously, and her head jerked back as she caught the stench of church surrounding the old woman.
Martha continued to address only Nicholas. “I understand congratulations are in order, my lord. Will the new Lady Montacute be coming from London soon?” she asked, knowing it was safe to mention Verity, who was out of reach to the witch.
Judith stared at her.
Nicholas seemed confused. “I, er...”
Judith’s eyes were like gimlets. “What does she mean, Nicholas?” she asked levelly.
Martha smiled and answered for him. “Why, simply that Miss Verity is now his bride. Or is that not so, my lord? Maybe it’s untrue, but I was told you’d married Miss Verity?”
“You, er, were told the truth, Miss Cansford,” he murmured uneasily.
Judith’s face drained of color, and her fingers tightened over his sleeve like talons. Disbelief lurched through her. The magistrate’s cursed niece was his wife!
Martha watched Nicholas’s face closely in those seconds, and she saw a puzzled look pass through his eyes, as if he couldn’t quite understand what was happening to him. She also saw a nuance of recollection lighten them for a moment, a softening, as if a sweet memory had briefly crossed his consciousness.
Judith saw it too, and her snarl became an ugly grimace of unutterable fury. She trembled from head to toe, and was so beside herself she could have struck both him and Martha. History had repeated itself, and as had happened two hundred years ago, she had to cut down a wife in order to fully reach her objective!
Martha inclined her head and walked on. Her heart was beating swiftly, and she could feel Judith’s hot gaze following her, burning into her back like a fiery dagger. The old woman’s hand tightened over the wafers, crushing them into crumbs.
Judith didn’t like being made to seem foolish, and that was just what had happened. More than that, she had been made to realize she still hadn’t achieved what she wanted! Her furious glance flashed to Nicholas. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d married Verity Windsor?” she demanded through clenched teeth.
“I—I don’t know,” he replied truthfully.
“If you want me, you’ll have to be free of her. You realize that, don’t you?”
He hesitated.
Her fingernails dug through his sleeve. “You do want me, don’t you?”
“Yes, of—of course ...”
“Then you must be rid of her.”
He had no will of his own, for his will was Judith’s now. His role was to obey, not to reason, so he imme
diately acceded to her wish. “I will instruct my lawyers ...”
She gave no sign of her inner rage as she kissed him farewell, but as he drove away, her eyes flickered malevolently. Lawyers took too long, and she didn’t intend to wait. By marrying him, Verity Windsor had signed her own death warrant. Snakestone or not, the new Lady Montacute would die!
The witch drew a long, steadying breath. She must not let this setback affect her too much, for she had immediate things to do. Before learning about Verity, she had decided to see how powerful the seal really was. Until now she had only been able to transform herself into a hare with Hecate’s direct help from the grove, but now, if the seal was fully potent, she ought to be able to change wherever she was. It had to be tested.
Gathering her bold red skirts, she turned to hurry back into the house. There, in the privacy of her room, she undressed to rub ointment over her body. Then she dressed again, drew a circle on the floor, and stood inside it with the seal at her feet. She whispered a magic spell and began to turn around and around. The room soon whirled dizzily, and she felt herself diminishing in size. Suddenly she was a hare, nimble and swift, and no one saw her as she fled down through the house.
She bounded triumphantly along the valley, leaping through the damp early autumn undergrowth, where spiderwebs were draped like shrouds, and the first dead leaves scattered in the draft of her passing. She outpaced the carriage and reached the castle ahead of it.
Nicholas alighted as the team halted in the courtyard. He was thinking of how to word the promised letter he had to send to his Gray’s Inn lawyers regarding divorce, but then the flutter of Judith’s red gown caught his eye. He stared at her in astonishment, for in spite of his bewitchment, he knew it was impossible for her to have reached the castle first. There was only one road from the village to the castle, and no one had ridden past.
As she came down the steps, he felt enervating shackles coiling around him, and there was nothing he could do to resist. He seized her in his arms, but as he tried to kiss her passionately, she drew her head back tantalizingly.