“It’s doing nothing but teachin’ her to want to be what she can’t. That’s what comes of highfalutin ways. Thirty minutes,” Mrs. Frye said. “I expect you back here in thirty minutes. Then I’ll show ya how to work on the ledgers and the doors downstairs need polishing, too.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I hurried out, not wanting to waste a minute. I told Bridget where to find me when she finished, and went for Rebecca.
Nurse Tolley answered my knock, barely cracking the door open to speak. “What do you want?”
“To take Rebecca for music. I’ve thirty minutes to play for her.”
“She’s not dressed yet.” She tried to close the door.
Considering it was almost noon, I doubted her excuse. I pressed my toe against the door. “I’m sure that whatever she is wearing will be fine for her to wear to the music room. Either you let me take her now or I will have to see Miss Prudence about this.”
“You’re just like that teacher, coming here and taking things over, thinking you’re better than anyone else. It’ll lead you to an ill end as well.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Happens all the time to women who stick their neck above their station in life—they end up with it broken.” She left the door before I could respond. If eyes could bore holes, the woman’s back would have become a sieve. I couldn’t decide if she meant to shock me or if there was ill intent behind her words.
“Rebecca. It’s time for music.”
“She’s h-h-here!” Rebecca’s voice sounded like Christmas morning. I heard her careful, cane-sweeping steps and appeared at the door, wearing an emerald pinafore with a cream and lace under dress and her rag doll tucked under her arm.
I took her hand. “Ready, poppet?”
“Y-y-yes, please.”
“You look very pretty today.” I flicked a glance at the nurse. She smiled sweetly, her florid complexion like soured wine.
Dismissing the nurse, I turned my attention toward making the next thirty minutes the most fun that I could.
“What’s your most favorite thing to do, poppet?” I asked after we had situated ourselves at the piano. Rebecca had yet to join me on the bench, choosing to sit at her favorite spot near the piano leg with her doll in her lap.
“S-s-stories.”
“Then today we’ll have the musical story of Humpty Dumpty. I’ll tell the tale except for some very important parts. When I make this sound, you have to say ‘Humpty Dumpty’, and when I play this, you say ‘All the Kings horses’ and say ‘All the King’s men’ when you hear this. Can you do that?”
She shook her head.
“I think you can. Try it once and I’ll help you.” By the time we’d played it twice, Rebecca laughed as I made the sound of “All the King’s horses” racing over the piano keys. It was the first I’d heard her laugh and the sound made me silently vow to spend more time with her. I knew Mary had loved her, for I already did in so short a time.
My time with Rebecca passed too quickly. When I returned to Mrs. Frye, I learned Bridget had gone to the village to buy Miss Prudence some ribbons, leaving me to work alone on the ledgers and to polish the downstairs doors. I’d almost finished both tasks when I realized Fortune had been wagging her finger in my face for hours and I hadn’t seen it. I could easily peek into Sean’s wing under the pretense of scrubbing his doors.
Making sure I had the kitchen knife wrapped in cloth and secreted in my boot rather than my pocket, I ventured to the dragon-handled doors before I could change my mind. Once there I quietly slipped inside. The first thing I noticed was the aroma of his exotic spice lingering in the air. The corridor was dark and silent, filled with weaponry: swords and maces, pistols and lances that made the little knife in my pocket completely insignificant. At least I knew where to run should I ever have need for something deadlier.
Heavy carpets patterned with the Killdarens’ coat of arms, two fire breathing dragons facing each other, muffled my steps. I’d seen the dragon emblem in the portrait of Sean and on the carriage, and now wondered at his uncanny likeness to the strange creatures—gleaming green eyes, fire in every breath, and a fondness for dark lairs.
Wood paneled the walls and heavy, ebony curtains blocked most of the sun’s light from filtering in. Praying I wouldn’t be caught, I slowly made my way in the direction of the round room, barely breathing as I clutched my polishing rag and beeswax.
Within minutes I reached massive black doors, and my heart thumped loudly in my ears. My courage fled as I eased one of the doors open. Rather than blindly dashing into the room, I pulled out my polishing rag, dipped a little beeswax on it, and started to rub on the door while trying to peek inside. I made two swipes before my eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room. Then my mouth gaped. There had to be thousands of books, filling the floor to ceiling shelves that were only interrupted by the black, velvet-draped curtains and a wrought iron spiral staircase. In the center of the room sat a huge black-shrouded lump.
Good Lord! Was it a crypt? I squinted to see better. The light had to be coming from the glass-domed ceiling above and down through the huge hole in the center of the second floor, which was made of iron, too. Pushing the door wider, I craned my neck out more, now only polishing the air instead of the door.
“Found what you are looking for yet, lass?”
Turning back, I found Sean standing in front of me. I was inches away from polishing his male anatomy. My eyes went wide as a very clear picture of the stone Zeus flashed in my mind. “Good Lord.”
“I suppose you could thank Him.” He grabbed my wrist, his hand branding hot, and without so much as a by-your-leave, he hauled me up, imprisoning me in his arms. His green gaze glittered as he stared into my eyes and a sardonic smile slowly curved his lips. The hard muscles of his chest and thighs pressed tightly to mine, setting every nerve in my body immediately on fire. I found myself thirsting for more of his heat rather than less. “What are you doing here?”
My mouth was so dry I could hardly speak. I bit my lip and his gaze fell to my mouth. “Polishing.”
“The air?”
“The wood.”
“Almost, but not quite.” He tightened my breasts against his chest and something rigid press into my stomach. His dark hair laid brushed back from the sharp planes of his chiseled features. His eyes, though squinting hard against the sun, gleamed with fire.
“It’s daylight,” I whispered.
“And today is one of my best days. Why are you here?” he asked again, almost appearing disappointed in me. “As much as I’ve done for you, you could at least be truthful with me. These are my private quarters, and you are intruding upon my privacy without an invitation. It’s one thing if I open a door for you, lass, and another for you steal in here like a thief.”
I sucked in a breath, feeling as if he’d taken every ounce of air from me as I looked into his eyes. How would I feel if someone stole into my secrets? Intruded into the dreams I kept hidden from the world? I touched his cheek, staring into the darkness in his eyes, somehow seeing myself there. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m repaying your kindness with unkindness. I…was…curious.” Somehow while meeting his gaze, I couldn’t force out the other questions that lingered in my mind, both the important ones and the fanciful ones. Did you harm Mary? Did you kill Helen Kennedy? Is Prudence your mistress? Is Rebecca your child?
He blinked as if surprised by my answer.
“Then let me satisfy your curiosity.” His gaze dropped to my mouth, completely absorbing itself there. My pulse leapt wildly and anticipation of something I’d yet to taste but had constantly dreamed about since I’d met him gripped my entire being. I could no more stop my lips from parting than I could have kept my blood from rushing.
I expected the soft brush of his lips and the warmth of his breath. Instead, firm lips claimed mine so passionately, I had to yield and respond or be lost. His tongue swept over mine, dueling with need, searching as if he thirsted for my very soul. Groaning
, he pulled me impossibly closer, and more fire erupted between us when I met and matched the stroke of his tongue, sliding my hand from his grasp and burying my fingers into the silk of his hair.
His scent, exotically heady, filled my senses like a drugging elixir. He tore off my mob cap and slid his hand to the nape of my neck, devouring my mouth. I’d gone from knowing nothing to feeling everything in a few overwhelming moments. I pressed to him, needing more, needing to feel the hard warmth of him against me. He ran his hands up my sides and slid them over my breasts, burning them with the heat of his skin. I groaned, kissing him harder. “Please,” I whispered, desperate beneath this torture of pleasure.
Suddenly, he reared back and released me. Breathing heavily, he fisted his hands at his side so tightly his muscles shook. “Go. Leave now. I’m not my father.” His voice was low, and so desperately harsh, that I didn’t hesitate or question him, though I didn’t understand at all. I ran.
That I never once thought of the knife in my boot when Sean had been kissing me so…so passionately told me more than anything else, that I didn’t fear him, at least not when it came to my life. I had yet to determine the safety of other people’s lives. I knew without a doubt he was lethal to anything proper or decorous, for I would have let him satisfy my every curiosity at that moment.
Hearing voices in the kitchen, I skittered to a stop, taking a moment to calm myself and adjust my appearance.
Mrs. Murphy looked up from kneading dough as I dashed into the kitchen. Janet and Adele worked with her. “What ails ye, lass? Where’s yer cap?”
“I must have lost it outside. I’ll go look for it!” I said. “I’ve finished polishing the doors.”
“Ye need any help?”
I shook my head.
“Take your time. In fact, if ye can bring me several sprigs of rosemary from the spice garden nearest to the stables, I’d appreciate it.”
“Thank you.” Relieved to have a legitimate reason for being outside, I exited and dashed down the steps, fleeing away from the garden. I went in the direction of the sand dunes to the right and front of the castle. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore suited my tumultuous mood. Every nerve within me tingled with life and heat. I could feel his touch, his kiss, as if he still had me in his arms. I clutched the pheasant shell in my pocket and held onto it for dear life as I fought for breath.
Cresting a dune, I stared at the sea, drinking in the saltiness of its spray, feeling the wildness of it match the racing of my heart. The wind rushed at me, sending my mussed hair even more askew, pressing my dress tight to me, and caressing my body as softly and as firmly as Sean had. He reminded me of the sea, so powerful, so dark, I knew I’d be lost were I to enter his depths. Yet he was so beautiful, so intriguing, I couldn’t turn away.
Before I had wondered why a woman such as Miss Prudence would have let herself be compromised. Now I had no question.
I should be horrified with myself for wanting him and responding to him. I should be outraged by his cavalier handling of my person. He’d given me no warning, nor asked for permission.
Hearing the sound of hooves, I looked back then swung around, shocked to see Sean charging up the hillside, astride a mammoth-sized stallion. He’d done little to change his appearance, only buttoned his stark white shirt to a barely decent point. The wind whipped at his hair and his clothes, defining his muscular frame.
I wrapped my hair up in my fist to keep it from my eyes and met his gaze.
“I owe you an apology. Do you accept?”
I couldn’t seem to speak, but I did manage a slight nod, not sure I wanted to accept his apology, but unable to deny him.
“Should you enter my quarters again, uninvited, be prepared to share more than a kiss, Cassie.” He raked his gaze down my body, fueling the fire he’d kindled. Then whipping his horse around, he charged down to the sea and went flying along the beach, making me envy his headlong pace and the wild freedom that seemed to pour off of him. I wanted to fly from here as well, to flee what was happening inside of me.
Shedding my prim, proper gowns for the loosely woven dress of a maid had unbound things within me that I never knew were there. A dark part of me wanted to return to his quarters uninvited to find out what would come next.
“Mar-ry!”
Before I could turn, Jamie’s huge arms wrapped around my chest from behind, jerked me up, and crushed me against his chest. The smell of soil and soured perspiration assaulted me. With my arms clamped to my sides, I couldn’t fight him or reach the knife in my boot, and he carried me like a rag doll away from the sea.
“Stop!” I kicked and squirmed, but nothing I did made any difference. “Help!” The wind seemed to swallow my cry and spurred his pace.
“Hu-urt you.” He sounded as if he were crying. He ran faster, as if trying to whisk me away before anyone could see. He passed the stables and ran farther on to where I saw an opening in the forest, a dark path leading to God only knew what.
“Put me down!” His hold kept me from breathing enough air, making me feel faint. Real panic welled inside of me. “Help,” I screamed, but I feared my voice had been reduced to a squeak.
He dragged me into the dense trees. The branches and sky overhead blurred. I struggled against his hold until I thought my bones would crack from the ferocity of his strength. Then he broke into a bright clearing and the sun blinded me. I heard a heavy thundering beat and thought it was the pounding of my heart until my vision adjusted and I saw Stuart charging toward us astride a dark horse.
“Jamie! Stop!” Stuart yelled.
Jamie turned and ran, nearly crushing me with the strength in his arms.
Whatever doubts I harbored about Stuart, I was never more thankful to see a man in my life.
“No…hurt…her!” Jamie yelled, rendering my breathing nearly impossible. I realized that I could die right there with help not more than ten feet away. I tried to reach out, to speak, but could only croak. The world around me turned into a blur of dark colors growing closer to black with every second that passed.
“Let her go!” I heard Stuart yell as if from a long distance away. Then suddenly Jamie fell to his knees. His hold loosened and I sucked in air, gasping desperately.
My vision cleared and I fought myself from Jamie’s grip, but it wasn’t hard to do at all. He didn’t try to hold me any longer. He lay on his side, crying like a small child, who’d been left desolate and abandoned.
“Hurt…her,” he cried. “Some…one…hurt…her.”
When I looked at Stuart, I gasped and stumbled back several steps. He held the butt end of a long leather whip stretched taut. He’d wrapped the painful tip around Jamie’s legs, forcing him to stop.
I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t decide if Jamie wanted to hurt me or hurt Mary. Or if he was saying someone was going to hurt me or had hurt Mary.
“Bloody hell.” Stuart turned to me with anger slashing the handsome lines of his face. “Why don’t you just leave! Get off this cursed land and go.”
He turned from me and went to his brother. “Jamie, it’s all right. Do you hear me? This isn’t Mary.” After touching his brother’s shoulder, he slipped the whip from around his brother’s legs, expertly rolled it up, and slung it over his shoulder.
“Is he all right?” I asked.
“What do you care?” Stuart shouted. “What did you do to him?”
“Nothing. He found me on the dunes, grabbed me, and carried me here.” I glanced about me for the first time and realized I stood in the middle of a circle of ancient carved stones. The stones faced the center of the circle, pagan in design with the curved figure of a woman on each of them. I swung around and found myself nearly at the foot of a huge center stone. The figure hewn upon it was decidedly male and played a harp made to look like a woman bent unnaturally backward, welcoming the musician with open arms. An eerie feeling swept over me, one that made me feel I had trespassed into a place no human should ever go. “What is this?”
“The Circle of the Stone Virgins,” Stuart said.
Just then the sound of pounding of hooves beat their way down the path and Sean charged into the clearing. Seeing us, he veered sharply and rode up.
“Good God! Killdaren out during the day? What in the bloody hell is going on?” Stuart stared at Sean, sounding as if he’d just seen the unbelievable.
The way Sean slid so expertly and fluidly from his horse evoked a feeling inside of me that made me want to do nothing but watch the man in motion. He seemed to be coming to my rescue. The horse heaved as if he’d been ridden hard and a dark trail of sweat drenched its sides.
“What is the problem here?”
“No problem, sir. Just showing Cassie the Stone Virgins,” Stuart answered, his tone sarcastic, much like sugar laced with arsenic. “Jamie tripped and Cassie and I were trying to help him up.”
“He—” I began.
“Is he hurt?” Sean cut off my denial of Stuart’s explanation.
I gasped. Well, I’d obviously mistaken his intentions. He seemed to be deliberately ignoring me.
“I don’t think so, sir,” Stuart said.
“Don’t you have duties to attend to, miss?” Sean turned and looked at me for the first time. Whatever warmth or fire I’d seen in his eyes earlier had fled, leaving cold green glass behind with edges jagged enough to slice a woman bare.
I couldn’t take it. I turned from him and stared hard at Stuart a moment. He met my gaze with one that told me I had better not say anything to Sean about Jamie, and I decided I wouldn’t. Jamie could have thought he was protecting me. He might have killed me in the process, but it was possible that his motives were honorable.
What would Sean do if I told the truth? Send Jamie away? Punish Stuart for lying? Somehow I felt that Jamie was part of the key in learning what had happened to Mary.
Sean looked doubtful, but he didn’t question Stuart any further, and the way they stared at each other sent even more shivers down my spine.
Midnight Secrets Page 13