“How do I know you didn’t bewitch that horse in the first place?”
Anger explodes inside me. “Believe me, if I had any wish to harm you, I wouldn’t have suffered through your odious company for so long.”
Her eyes narrow. “I knew it. You are capable of harming someone. I hope they lock you up in Bedlam.”
Being imprisoned in an insane asylum would be a worse fate than death, and for a moment, the possibility strikes me mute. I think of the conversation I once stumbled upon at a country dance in Gloucestershire. How the asylum treated its inmates with the utmost cruelty and inhumane treatment. How it had a dark history of allowing the public to view the inmates and mock their unstable mental states.
My greatest fear has been my family’s good name being ruined because of my mistakes, but Bedlam would be so much worse—for us all.
“You are being most unkind,” Lucy says, her fingers gripping her tea cup tightly. She turns to me. “I think she should leave, Wren.”
“I don’t take threats of Bedlam lightly,” I say, my expression hardening. “I have never done the least bit of harm to you, and from the moment you met me, you have treated me as the worst sort of criminal. Against my better judgment, I let you into this room. But I see you have nothing but vitriol to spew, as usual.”
She stands, her chin arrogantly held aloft. “I treated you the way you should have been treated by everyone who met you. To think, a rebellious little outsider from Gloucestershire could attract the attention of Lord Thornewood! As if that wasn’t enough, you had the ability to enchant him with your witchcraft. You probably even went so far as to bewitch that poor little boy into running toward the river!”
“That’s enough,” I say and stand so I am at eye-level with her. “Your accusations are groundless.”
“I know what you are now,” she says, “and I’ve already told as many people as I could. All of London knows Lord Thornewood abandoned you as soon as he saw you for what you were. You’re in disgrace, Katherine Sinclair, just as you should have been the moment you set foot in London.”
My voice shakes with anger. “Leave. Now.”
She smiles meanly and walks toward the door. “You’ll never have him now,” she says over her shoulder. “I will make certain of that.”
The door closes behind her, and I have to bite back the tears. Because I know she’s right. Lord Thornewood will never have me now.
Later in the afternoon, with Eliza’s threats still fresh in my mind, I sit down to write a note to Lord Thornewood. I cannot let Eliza prevent me from at least trying to reach out to him. Not when the love I feel for him threatens to break me if it is not returned. After mentally crumpling numerous sheets of paper, I pen a note to him.
Dear Colin,
Grandmama insisted we return to London, and I was loathe to trespass on your kindness any longer. I appreciate all the care given to me while I was at your home. I hope your schedule will permit you to come to call in the afternoon.
Yours,
K
I struggled with the closing more than the actual words. Would he think I was being too forward in using the word “yours”? But then, it’s the truth. I am his, though I am no longer sure he is mine—if ever he was.
I hand Mary the carefully folded note when she comes to help me dress for bed. “Will you be so kind as to put this note in the morning’s post?”
She glances down at Lord Thornewood’s name printed carefully on the front. “Yes, mum.”
I close my eyes in relief. “Thank you so much.”
I’m able to relax as she brushes the braids out of my hair and ties it back loosely with a satin ribbon. For better or worse, I will have a response from Lord Thornewood on the morrow.
TWENTY-FOUR
DAYS go by with no word from Lord Thornewood. At the end of the first day, disappointment and despair threatened to consume me. But now I have cocooned myself in a sort of numb apathy.
By the fourth day, Lucy is desperate to bolster my spirits.
“We could go for a ride in the park,” she says with a forced smile. “Anything to escape the confines of this house, right?”
I stab the needle through the rose I’m embroidering. “It’s a tad too warm for riding today.”
Lucy releases a tortured sigh. “And yesterday it was too humid. The day before was too sunny.”
“I cannot help it if the weather is uncooperative,” I say without looking up from my embroidery.
“It is you who is being uncooperative,” Lucy says, her tone full of exasperation. “All I want is my sister back.”
“Then concentrate on your studies and leave me to wallow in the pain of being right.”
She’s quiet for so long I almost believe she’s given up. “There must be some explanation,” she whispers. She sounds so lost I finally look up.
“There is, but you won’t hear of it.”
She wraps her arms around herself. “I just cannot believe he would do such a thing.”
“Not everyone can handle knowing the truth about our kind,” I say gently.
“Papa can. He cannot be the only one.”
I return to my embroidery. “It certainly appears that way.”
“And why hasn’t Grandmama required you to attend any balls? It’s odd, don’t you think?”
“Not at all. I’m sure she cannot bear the censure we’re sure to meet. I’ve destroyed any hope of a successful debut, remember?” I stab the needle through again and end up pricking my finger. I watch the blood well at the tip. Because of my recklessness, I have ruined not only my chance for a happy marriage, but Lucy’s and Robert’s as well.
I should have left Eliza to her games when I had the chance. She would have flirted shamelessly with Lord Thornewood for awhile, but it would have been like a soothing balm for her anger. I let my own pride and jealousy get in the way, and it cost me everything. So far, no one from Bedlam has come for me, but I freeze in terror every time one of the servants enters the room. I’m sure Eliza has done as she promised in every other regard, however, and my reputation is in tatters.
Lucy sits beside me on the settee. “I have a confession,” she says, and I pause in my sewing and drop the blood-stained embroidery to my lap. “Before we even left Lord Thornewood’s, I told Grandmama I wanted to send word to Robert. I penned a short note we needed to see him, but I haven’t heard back. For awhile I thought he’d simply appear, but there’s been no sign of him.”
“I was wondering why he did not come,” I say, a little embarrassed to admit I wanted the same. It was better for him to take sanctuary at Oxford for as long as he could.
“I was about to send a telegram to Papa as well, but then you woke, and well, here we are.”
“I’m afraid my ability to process abstract concepts has left me of late,” I say, my voice a tired reflection of the way I feel. “You’ll have to be more precise explaining your thoughts.”
“I’m worried my note was intercepted. And if the one to Robert was, then perhaps the one to Lord Thornewood was as well.”
The smallest bud of hope stirs inside me, but I push it down. “What would Grandmama have to gain in such an endeavor?” But even as I ask it, I think of her unusual behavior of late. The suspicious letter, the rude treatment of Lord Thornewood, her apparent disinterest in our developing relationship.
“I know it isn’t much to go on, but I cannot escape this feeling.”
“We must think on this further,” I say. “We don’t have all the facts, and we are restricted by our lack of independence. We cannot even leave the house without Grandmama knowing.”
Lucy is quiet for a time, worrying the skirt of her dress as she thinks. She finally says in a hushed voice, “Not if we leave at night.”
I turn to her with shock warring against amusement. What had become of my well-mannered little sister? “And go where?”
“To Lord Thornewood’s.”
I cannot help but smile at the determination in her eyes. “I dar
e not argue with you when you are in this mood, but I feel I must point out we have no idea where his townhome is located.”
Her face falls for a moment. “Then we shall walk the streets until we find it.”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not. It’s much too dangerous, and my power has not returned to the same level it was before.”
“We cannot stop trying. Let’s ask Grandmama about going to the park. If we go every day, we may run into Lord Thornewood.”
“Very well,” I say, getting to my feet.
Before I can walk to the door, the footman enters. “Miss Sinclair, there’s a gentleman here to see you. Shall I show him in?”
I glance back at Lucy, whose face is awash with excitement and hope.
“Please do.”
“Very good, miss,” he says and leaves to retrieve him.
Lucy jumps to her feet. “It’s Lord Thornewood! It has to be. He must have sought you out after he didn’t hear from you.”
A smile is spreading slowly over my face. Could Lucy have been right all along?
The door opens again, and we turn to greet our visitor.
But instead of Lord Thornewood’s characteristic dark form, the meticulously dressed Lord Blackburn stands in the doorway.
I stand gaping, all trace of my welcoming smile long gone. My heartbeat thuds in my ears, though I wonder how my heart continues to beat at all. I almost wish it was someone from Bedlam. I think they would be more of a welcome sight than the man who attacked and threatened me. Lucy looks confused, then apprehensive, lines forming between her arched brows.
“How did you get in here?” I demand finally.
He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Why, the butler let me in, of course.”
I straighten my spine. “You must leave at once. You are not welcome here.”
“On the contrary, I have every right to be here.” He strides forward, and I move in front of my sister. With a mocking smile, he reclines in one of the chairs as if it is a throne.
I grab Lucy’s hand. “Then we have the right to return to our rooms. Let’s go, Luce.”
“Not so hasty, if you please. We have business to discuss. In fact, your grandmother will join us any moment.”
His comment stops us. Icy fear splashes inside my stomach. I think we are on the verge of discovering just what Grandmama has been up to, and it won’t be something pleasant.
“I thought it was understood you would no longer seek me out,” I say, still gripping Lucy’s hand tightly.
He smirks. “You are referring to Lord Thornewood’s barbaric threats, no doubt? Well, I believe we can all agree he no longer has an interest in your affairs. Not after the scandalous events of this weekend.”
I swallow down my questions. I desperately want to know what he has heard, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear. Even without Lord Thornewood’s intervention.”
Lucy keeps looking back and forth between us, her eyes wide with fear.
“That was then,” he says. “Things have changed for you now. Without Lord Thornewood to hide behind, I’m free to press my suit. You see, I still want you for my wife.”
Lucy stiffens beside me. I try not to picture being married to him, but I’m overcome by an ill feeling anyway. I narrow my eyes. “Because of your insurmountable gaming debt?”
His loud bark of laughter jars me. “My what? Wherever did you hear that?”
“From a reputable source,” I say between gritted teeth. “Do you deny it?”
In answer, he laughs again. “Ask your grandmother,” he says, his eyes glittering with laughter . . . and something darker.
As if on cue, she joins us, a tight smile on her face. “Lord Blackburn,” she says without so much as a glance in my or Lucy’s direction, “how delightful to see you again.”
The lines on my grandmother’s face are more pronounced, especially by her mouth and eyes, as if she’s been under a lot of strain. Again, apprehension sneaks its fingers up my spine.
“Your granddaughter said the most amusing thing,” he says, his eyes humorless. “She accused me of being in debt. For gambling no less.”
She pales. “I cannot imagine where she’d hear such a thing.”
He shrugs. “Idle gossip, perhaps.”
“Perhaps,” Grandmama says warily.
“In any case, I’d just declared my intentions to Katherine. As my future wife, she has every right to inquire about my financial stability.”
“Grandmama, I will not marry him. There is no love between us, and you do not understand the sort of man he is.”
“I understand plenty. Unfortunately, the decision is not yours to make.”
Anger crackles over my skin. “Without a doubt it is. It’s my life.”
“It may be your life, but your father sent you here under my guidance. This is the best match for you.” She leans toward me. “The only match.”
I turn back to Lord Blackburn, my hands in fists at my side. “Why would you even want me as your wife? You said yourself you know of the events of this weekend.”
He smirks. “I know all about them, thanks to your grandmother. As a member of the Order of the Eternal Sun, however, a beautiful lady with abilities such as yourself is beyond desirable—even one who has publicly disgraced herself. You see, there is no one quite so rare as you. There have been others, of course, other members of your race our esteemed Order has uncovered . . .” he pauses as both Lucy and I share a look of reluctant surprise. “Oh yes, there are others, but they are so few and far between—the last we found living in India. None have been as powerful as you, though. In this, you are quite unique. And as you might remember from visiting my library, I’m an avid collector of the rare and exotic.”
Dark rage stirs in my stomach. “I am not some Egyptian sarcophagus you can put on display. Grandmama, you cannot expect me to accept such an offer. Though Society expects marriage from me, I’m no longer in good standing with Society anyway.”
Her expression is unmoved.
Desperate, I blurt out, “He tried to take advantage of me. In the garden. The night of Lady Drake’s ball.”
Her expression only turns to one of disgust. “I’m sure you did something to encourage such improper behavior. You may feel free to throw your life away, but I won’t let you drag your sister down with you.”
I tense, my anger giving way to true fear. She pinpointed the one thing I cannot argue against.
“It doesn’t matter,” Lucy says, her voice shaky. “You cannot bring me into this.” She turns to me with wide eyes. “You cannot marry him, Wren.”
“She is resisting our arrangement, Lucille,” Lord Blackburn. “Perhaps we should explain to her just how important it is she complies.”
Grandmama pales.
He chuckles. “Truly, I think you may find it almost comical. At the very least, you’ll find it ironic. You see, when you accused me of being the one in debt, you were close. Unfortunately, your information was skewed.”
He shifts his gaze from Lucy and me to Grandmama. Lucy lets out her breath in surprise. “Your grandmother is the one with a gambling problem. In fact, it seems to have reached the point of an addiction. Not unusual in our set, but what is unusual is what she likes to play for.”
I think of the game of high-stakes baccarat I found Grandmama engaged in, and of the missing barouche. My chest tightens.
He stands, moves much too close to me. Lucy shrinks back, but I force myself to stand unflinching before him. “Luck has always favored me, and your grandmother made the tremendous mistake of agreeing to play baccarat with me. She lost, of course.” He turns to Grandmama. “Tell her the stakes, Lucille.”
My grandmother stands ram-rod straight before us, her wan face and tightly pressed lips the only signs of distress. “We played for your hand in marriage.”
Lord Blackburn’s smirk disappears. “And I always collect on a debt.”
TWENTY-FIVE
THE b
lood pounds in my ears, muffling Lucy’s anguished cry. Her hand tightens on my arm. “Grandmama, how could you?”
Suddenly, everything falls into place. The way Grandmama practically forced me to dance with him every dance, the argument with Lord Blackburn at his estate, the intensity of her anger when she believed me to be disagreeing with him. I think of the day after that terrible night Lord Blackburn attacked me, when I interrupted her writing a letter. Of course she wasn’t encouraging my relationship with Lord Thornewood, not when she’d promised me to Lord Blackburn.
“And why,” I say, my eyes narrowing as I stare at my grandmother, “should I agree to honor such an arrangement?”
A slow, humorless grin spreads across his face. “You are a rarity, Katherine, it’s true, but you are not the only one with arcana.” When his gaze falls on Lucy, my hands curl into fists.
“No,” I say, my tone low with warning.
“If you will not agree to marry me, then I will take your sister as payment instead.”
“I will tell our father the truth—you cannot force either one of us to marry you,” I say.
Lord Blackburn glances at Grandmama. “Your grandmother is prepared to spread a rumor that will be Lucy’s ruin if you refuse.”
Behind me, Lucy sucks in her breath in disbelief.
“Lucy will be blacklisted from every ball, every party,” he continues. “Even her dowry won’t be enough to tempt a suitor. With your own considerable scandal to shame the family name, Robert will have to search for a bride in the lower rungs of society, but even then, families of any worth will refuse to have him as a suitor. If you refuse to honor the agreement, Katherine, and if I cannot take Lucy as substitute payment, then all three of the Sinclair siblings’ lives will be ruined.”
Desperation builds in me, and like a trapped animal, I whirl on our grandmother. “You lost more to him than just my hand in marriage. What hold does he have over you?”
“Witnesses,” Lord Blackburn says with a self-congratulatory smile that begs to be smacked from his face. “I have witnesses to your grandmother not only participating in an illegal card game, but gambling away her granddaughter’s hand in marriage.”
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