I let go as he falls to the ground in convulsions as though he is being electrocuted, crying out for help in a strangled voice.
I watch unblinking as he gasps his last breath. The cruel darkness leaves his eyes until they are as lifeless as glass.
A warm hand touches my shoulder, and I turn reluctantly toward Lord Thornewood. If he didn’t revile me before, then what must he think after I used my power to take a life before him? But his face holds no hint of censure, only relief.
He pulls me into his arms. “Katherine,” he says, his voice rumbling beneath my ear, “he left you with little choice, and if you had not killed him—” he tilts my chin up to meet his eyes, “I would have.”
I glance down at the body at our feet, nausea churning inside me. I shiver as if in shock. I cannot believe Lord Blackburn is dead. I cannot believe that I—
“It’s over,” he says. “I haven’t the faintest idea how you did what you did, but it was necessary.’”
“I used his own power against him,” I say quietly. “I filled him with so much energy it stopped his heart.”
Lord Thornewood looks down at Lord Blackburn’s still form grimly. “He would have never stopped coming after you or your sister. What happened here was nothing other than self-defense, Katherine. His actions sealed his fate long before you entered the fray.” He turns to Tavi, waiting silently nearby. Despite his exotic coloring, he has the ability to disappear from notice, and yet, when he so chooses, he can be rather intimidating. “Tavi, would you be so good as to fetch the innkeeper? Tell him we witnessed Lord Blackburn collapse with convulsions.”
Tavi bows. “Right away, my lord.”
I watch him go. “He can be trusted? He won’t . . . tell anyone what he has really seen?”
“And tell them . . . what exactly? You touched Lord Blackburn and he fell to the ground with convulsions? It sounds as if the man had a terrible medical condition.” When I fail to appear relieved, Lord Thornewood says, “Tavi is my most trusted and loyal servant. I employ his entire family. He would never betray me.”
“I believe you.”
He offers me his arm. “Come, there is no reason we should continue to stand here, agonizing over what has already happened. Tavi will fetch the innkeeper, who will in turn contact the proper authorities.”
“Yes, you’re right,” I say, but something calls my attention back to the portal. It shimmers like mist in between the rocks, just a hint of the world that lays beyond visible.
The fox appears again, hovering near the rocks.
The gateway will close, his voice whispers in my mind.
I glance up at Lord Thornewood, but though he faces the fox, he makes no sign of awareness. In spite of the terrible memory I witnessed in Sylvania, there is still the part of me that longs for the beauty of that realm, for those who are like me.
Lord Thornewood touches my hand upon his arm, his own hand warm and strong. And I know. I can never leave now; I’m as bound to him as my mother was bound to my father.
The fox bows his head and disappears through the portal. A sense of loss threatens to rise up and engulf me, but I stamp it back down.
Lord Thornewood glances down at me as though sensing my hesitation. “Are you ready to go home?” he asks, his voice quiet.
“Where is home, my lord?” Not to my grandmother’s, surely.
“I swore to your father I’d bring you home to Bransfield,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “It was the condition he set when I refused to let him accompany me.”
“I can go home?” I ask, wistfully. I’m still in shock I won’t have to leave this world behind.
He laughs softly. “You may.” He tips my chin up to meet his stare. “To one of your homes, at least.”
I draw in a breath as I remember my sister. “Oh, but what of Lucy? We cannot leave her at Grandmama’s. We must go back to London immediately.”
“Your sister is safe. She and your brother are on their way to Bransfield as we speak.”
My head drops in relief. “I cannot thank you enough, my lord. For everything. But how in the world was Tavi able to find me?”
A muscle in his jaw twitches, his face tormented. “We received word that he had eloped with you just yesterday, and we knew he would avoid the trains. The Great North Road was his only option, and Tavi and I rode all night until we came across the destroyed carriage. It wasn’t long after that we discovered you by the road.”
Mama. Logic told me to go, to give up on this world entirely, but just as her last journal entry said, instinct led me to the hillside—where Lord Thornewood found me. “And I cannot tell you how happy I am you did.”
He smiles and gives a gentle squeeze of my hand. “Come, we have a long carriage ride ahead of us. I am glad Tavi had the forethought to order my coach sent to the inn to await us.”
I walk beside him, a dark cloud eclipsing some of the happiness. “Is it wrong to feel relieved over the death of someone?”
“Not when it’s over a man who would have never stopped trying to hurt you or the ones you love.”
I glance back at the field where Lord Blackburn still lay. “Still, I fear this guilt will only grow in time.”
Lord Thornewood stops and turns to me. “Katherine, you did what you had to do, what I would have done in your position. Let him not continue to have a hold over you, else what you did will be for nothing. Lord Blackburn would have killed either one of us given the chance. Perhaps I should feel regret for the end of his miserable existence, but I find I cannot.” He touches my cheek. “I would never be able to live with myself if anything happened to you.”
I lean into his hand, blinking back tears.
“So please,” he says, his face serious, “tell me, has he told any others in the Order about you? About your family?”
“He assured me he never alerted them to the truth about me. I believe him—if only because he wanted me, and access to my mother’s realm, all to himself.” I deliberately omit the fact there may be others who suspect. I cannot bring myself to burden Lord Thornewood—not yet. Not after he has done so much for me already.
Some of the tension leaves his face, and he continues toward the inn again. “It’s a relief to hear I won’t have to keep you under lock and key,” he says with a teasing grin.
I scoff, a small smile playing across my lips. “As if you could.”
He only smiles and leads me toward a black coach with the Thornewood crest emblazoned on the side parked a short distance away. His hand is warm on the small of my back as he helps me in, and it lingers there for a moment longer than necessary. Suddenly, I feel much too warm.
He boosts himself up and takes the seat across from me, lounging comfortably so his legs touch mine. With a word from him, the carriage takes off—much more smoothly than Lord Blackburn’s.
“You have questions,” he says, a relaxed half-grin on his face.
“I have a plethora of questions, my lord,” I say with a smile. Though, with his leg touching mine, and the closeness of the carriage, I have difficulty thinking of a single one.
We stare at each other for a moment or two. “Perhaps you will allow me to ask a single question?” he says.
I wave my hand in a vague “go ahead” gesture.
His easy smile disappears. “Why did you leave Thornewood?”
I glance down at my lap. “I thought it rather obvious.”
“Not to me,” he says. “Were you unhappy with your care?”
“No, of course—”
“Were you unhappy with me?”
My eyebrows draw low over my eyes. “That’s more than one question.”
“Well, what was I supposed to think, Katherine? I declare myself to you, promise to ask for your hand in marriage, watch you nearly die, and then as soon as you are better, you leave without a word?”
I stare at him, rather dumbfounded. I never thought of it in such a way. “I did not think—”
“You’re absolutely right. Yo
u did not think. And if we are to have a successful marriage, we must both get in the habit of thinking of the other person.”
“We might also have a better marriage if you would kindly stop interrupting me,” I snap.
He grins. “God, you’re a handful.”
“And you’re incorrigible.”
He tilts his head. “So I’ve been told.”
Memories of the past few days, of the anguish I felt not knowing if I would ever see him again, pushed aside all happy thoughts of our reunion. “I must know something,” I say, my voice tight.
He nods seriously. “Anything.”
“Where were you?” I ask, my voice breaking. Tears fill my eyes against my will. “Where were you when I was forced back to London with my grandmother? When I couldn’t leave her house? When Lord Blackburn blackmailed me into eloping?”
A rustle of movement, and then the seat sinks as he sits beside me. “It seems we both have been operating under misunderstandings. I never wanted to leave you, Katherine. You must believe me.” He moves his hand down to my lap to grip mine. “But I could not let Eliza destroy your reputation—your family’s reputation. More importantly, as soon as I discovered the truth about your abilities, I was certain that was the reason Lord Blackburn had been singling you out.”
My lips part in surprise. “You knew the truth about the Order when I was there at Thornewood?”
“Only just. Tavi arrived with confirmation that Lord Blackburn was a member of such a nefarious brotherhood the morning of your accident.”
Suddenly, Lord Thornewood’s apparent anxiety at the arrival of his man of business all those days ago made sense. “And you knew Eliza would do everything she could to make sure all of Society knew the truth about me,” I say, finally piecing everything together. I think back to what Lucy said when I’d first woken up. That Lord Thornewood lied for me and insisted Eliza was confused.
“It did seem to be her goal,” Lord Thornewood says, “but I was also terrified it would confirm the truth about you to Lord Blackburn. You needn’t concern yourself over Eliza, though.” He retrieves The Examiner from the seat across from me and turns to the gossip section. “Read it,” he says with a nod when I look at him questioningly.
My eyes scan the page.
London was a-twitter this morning with news of a distressing nature. Though the play for a certain earl’s heart has been well-known, it would seem the jealousy of a certain lady with the initials of E.G. has boiled over. In a shocking display at Lady Bellemont’s ball just yesterday evening, E.G. insisted her rival, K.S., was involved in none other than witchcraft. The young lady would hear no dissuasion on the matter, despite the fact that witchcraft has not been seen nor heard of for ages. The earl in question was heard to say that poor Miss E.G. had suffered quite a blow—both to her pride and to her pretty head—and, as such, her allegations cannot be believed. As it was discovered at the earl’s now infamous country ball which lady would be his future countess, it is this humble author’s opinion that poor Miss E.G.’s words are nothing but lies born out of jealousy. Perhaps she would do well to return home for the Season, as this author is quite certain none of you gentle readers would allow such pitiable madness into your homes.
“Good Lord, this article will ban Eliza from every ball in London,” I say. Truly a fate worse than death for her. “I must say, though, I’m quite at a loss. If Society has turned on her, then why am I in disgrace?”
This time it is his eyebrows that furrow in confusion. “Where did you hear such a thing?”
“From Grandmama and Lord Blackburn.” I realize my mistake as soon as he asks. “They were lying.”
“They were indeed,” he says, his eyes sympathetic. “As for my continued absence, when I learned you’d left Thornewood without a word, I knew I had to seek out your father without delay. I wanted you under my protection as soon as possible. Once I gained his permission to ask for your hand in marriage, I returned to London. Mere hours after I returned, Penelope arrived with grave news.” His expression darkens. “And here we are.”
I lean back in relief. “Penelope came to our rescue after all.” At his questioning look, I elaborate. “Grandmama was intercepting all our letters. We were unable to contact Robert or Papa, or . . . you.”
“Nor receive any from me,” he says. “It’s as I thought. Or, rather, hoped. But how were you able to send word to Miss Hasting?”
I swallow and look out the window again. “We used arcana.”
“Arcana? I assume you refer to the power you have?” I force myself to look at him again, but I see no censure in his eyes. He leans down and presses a kiss to my hand. “I love you,” he says. “Even if that means you come with . . . unexpected but certainly useful abilities.” He grins.
A surprised laugh escapes me. “I’ve never heard it put in such a way.”
“But you must promise never to use it in such a way that it nearly takes you from me. Not ever again.” His expression turns intense, almost pained. “I don’t think I could endure another agonizing night of not knowing whether you’d ever wake up.”
“I can only promise to try never to be in the same situation again. As I’ve told Robert and Lucy many times, I won’t hesitate to save someone I love—no matter the cost.”
“Then I must make sure you are never in that position.”
I squeeze his hand gently in answer.
“Have I answered all your questions to your satisfaction, my lady?”
I did have one more. “You still wish to marry me . . . after everything that happened?” I ask, gripping my seat with the hand not in his until it turns white.
“You think I am in the habit of making promises I never intend to keep?”
I turn my head toward the window to hide my hurt. “So this is only about your honor?”
His hand cups my cheek, and I turn toward it, craving his touch even though he is the source of my pain. His fingers gently turn my head toward him. My lips part as I meet his hooded gaze. “I don’t blame you for being cross with me. After all, you never received a formal proposal.”
His fingers leave my chin and search inside his coat. When he pulls out a ring, it becomes difficult to draw a breath. The carriage shifts as he drops one knee to the floor.
“My darling Katherine, I find I cannot live another moment without your wit and beauty in my life. Will you do me the exquisite honor of becoming my wife?”
I pull him back onto the seat with me and press my lips to his. “Yes,” I say between kisses. “I would like nothing more.”
TWENTY-NINE
I stare at the star sapphire on my finger. Slivers of moonlight reflect off it, making it appear to glow. I gaze up at Lord Thornewood—no, Colin—who brushes my loose hair from my neck with a self-satisfied smile. I will have to restore my hair to some semblance of decency before we arrive to Bransfield, but for now, I can only stare at my fiancé with an embarrassing degree of adoration.
“We should arrive at Bransfield in less than an hour,” he says, his hand drawing lazy circles across my abdomen. As each muscle twitches in response, I wonder if this is what it feels like to be tortured.
I make a noise somewhere between an acknowledgment and a sigh of pleasure.
“I only point this out as I want you to know . . .” he pauses to kiss the side of my neck, which he has figured out makes me completely unable to think, “. . . this will be our last chance to be alone before the wedding.”
“And when will that be, my lord?” I ask, a hint of teasing in my voice.
“As soon as I can damn well arrange it,” he says gruffly.
When he pulls me onto his lap, a nervous giggle escapes me as desire licks at my insides like flames. “Try not to destroy my dress. I’ll never be able to face my father.”
Colin laughs. “Kindly refrain from mentioning your father when I’m trying to kiss you senseless. It has a terrible effect on the mood.”
My answering laugh dies in my throat. His hands leave a pat
h of shivery heat as he runs them over my breasts and down the sides of my bodice. We kiss each other desperately, until both our chests are heaving.
“This is the village,” I say, when we pause for air. “We have only minutes left.”
His eyes devour mine. “Then we’d best make the most of them.”
Acknowledgments
FAIR warning: I am Southern, and I become eaten alive by guilt if I don’t properly thank everyone. This may be lengthy.
First and foremost, I would like to thank God, from whom all good things come.
Thank you to my loving and supportive husband, Sam. Not only do you have an awesome career that allows me to stay home and write, but you also never hesitate to entertain the kids when Mommy has a deadline! I love you.
A huge thank you to my parents, Ann and Larry, who have always believed in me and encouraged me. To my mom, especially, who has read Arcana in about a thousand different versions, helped me every step of the way, and should probably be paid as a second publicist for how much she marketed this book.
I must thank my cousin, Kelsey Sandy, because if it weren’t for sleepovers where we made up ridiculous stories about Ben Affleck and Josh Hartnett, my love for telling a good romantic story may have never fully developed. It was you who first started writing those stories down, and you will forever inspire me with your gorgeous prose! Thank you for all your love and support.
Thank you to my fantastic critique partners: Mandie Baxter and Jamie Manning. You read nearly as many versions of Arcana as my mom and never once complained. Mandie, I’m so glad we found each other! You’re my other writing half. All our texts and emails keep me sane, and I can’t thank you enough for all your support. Working/writing Mama, you are my hero. Jamie, your eagle eyes were essential, and your own books are an inspiration to me. Thank you for all your help!
I have the most incredible family and friends, all of whom have been so encouraging and supportive throughout this whole process. My grandmother, especially, has been looking forward to the moment she can walk into a bookstore and pick up my book. The time has finally come, Grandmom!
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