The Witch's Thief

by Tricia Schneider

  “Basil, we can’t.” He crossed the room to the window and pushed back the draperies. “It’s snowing. And, I don’t think we’d make it to London in time—”

  “I don’t want her to know.” He felt like a whining child, spoiled and used to getting his own way. For ten years he’d avoided telling anyone but two people. Only Reed and Sage. The only reason he’d been forced to tell his brother was the night he’d used his magic to save Sage from being crushed beneath a crumbling wall as it fell apart from an abandoned building. The pain that coursed through his arm and chest had been unbearable and he didn’t have the time to compose himself before Sage saw him. He’d demanded an explanation, already guessing what was wrong before he spoke.

  “She’ll find out the truth.” Sage let the curtains fall back into place and returned to his brother’s bedside. He sat next to him on the mattress. “It’s better she find out now. She can help us find a way to fight this.”

  “No more fighting. I’ve tried. For ten years. There is nothing out there that can save me.”

  “Let her comfort you then. Let your last moments be in peace.”

  “No.”

  “Damn you, Basil! When are you going to stop thinking of everyone but yourself? Take some comfort in these last hours. You deserve it and more for what you’ve been through.”

  “I love her,” he said simply. He couldn’t bear to cause her grief.

  He had known somewhere within that his time on this earth was nearly finished. When Aunt Petunia sent that missive, demanding his return home, Basil could have dismissed it, written to Sage and placed the responsibility on his brother to handle the situation. Basil knew Aunt Petunia simply needed to try to entice him home as she’d done on numerous occasions. The only reason he allowed her to persuade him was that he felt tired. Very tired.

  It was past time to admit there was no cure.

  “I know,” Sage said, growing calm. “And she loves you. Let her spend as much time with you as is left. Let that be your final gift to her.”

  Basil’s throat tightened. His eyes itched with tears. He nodded. He was selfish to run away yet again instead of telling her what he should have said ten years ago. What a waste those years had been!

  He would waste not another second away from her. It seemed sensibility was returning as the pain began to dull. Either that or he was growing accustomed to it.

  Sage patted his shoulder then stood. He opened the door as Julia appeared, carrying a bowl of steaming water and fabric over her shoulder.

  “I leave him to you, Julia. I find I’m in need of some cleaning up as well.” Sage picked at the singed edges of his shirt.

  “Oh!” Julia nodded, closing the door behind him. She rested her back against the wood for a moment before taking a deep breath and pushing away from it, taking the items to Basil’s bedside.

  She set the bowl on the table beside the bed then sat on the mattress next to him. She took a swath of fabric, dipped it into the water, wrung it out and applied it on his wrist. She struggled to focus on her task. Her gaze kept lifting away from his wrist to wander upward, halting at the broad expanse of his bare chest.

  Basil couldn’t stop the smile from lifting the corners of his mouth. Even in this moment, he enjoyed watching the rosy glow on her cheeks deepen. Enjoyed listening to the hitch in her breath when he brushed his arm, quite purposely, against her breast.

  Neither spoke. She cleaned his wounds. He watched her.

  As soon as his wrists were wrapped securely in clean bandages, he grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly on top of him. She surrendered to his kiss as he gathered her so she rested along his length in the bed. He was already hard from watching her, and she felt it. She rocked her hips gently against him. He groaned, his hands seeking her buttocks to clasp her harder against him.

  She broke away from his lips to place tender kisses along his cheek, her tongue tracing the curve of his ear. She continued across the length of his neck and onto his chest where she worshipped him by kissing, licking and touching every inch of exposed skin. And during it all, she continued to rock against him, rubbing herself along his manhood, until the pressure began building, and he feared he would not last much longer.

  Her breathing was fast and deep as though she had run for miles and miles. At last, she looked up, the pleasure in her eyes deepening the color around her irises.

  “I cannot wait,” she said, sliding off of him. She ripped at her under garments, kicking them free while gathering up her dress to wrap her legs around him. She undid the laces on his breeches and yanked them down so his member sprang free, alert and ready. She raised herself up, and he helped guide her onto him.

  Basil moaned at the hot, wet silk encasing him, squeezing around him. She paused for a moment, adjusting to the size of him, and then she rocked her hips, sliding up and down in slow, sure strokes.

  She kept her hands on his chest for balance as she learned the motions to this new dance. He took the opportunity to unlace the top of her dress, tugging the fabric down to expose her breasts. He cupped them, squeezing and caressing while she closed her eyes and tossed back her head.

  Their coupling did not last long, each eager to express in physical form the feelings building between them. The last several hours spent not knowing the fate of one another also pushed them over the edge, as they took this moment to give thanks that they both survived this latest ordeal.

  Upon completion, Julia fell upon Basil’s chest, her hair spilling over him, shrouding them both. He ran his fingers through the silky strands, liking the texture against his skin.

  If only he could have forever with her.

  “I love you, Julia.”

  Her arms tightened around him, gathering him closer as if she planned to never let him go again. “Oh, Basil,” she said, his name falling from her lips like a sigh. “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve wasted so much time. I was fool. I was searching for…something.” Ah, Gods! He cringed, still having difficulty saying the words.

  “Did you find it?”

  “I did not.”

  “Do you plan to continue your search?”

  He let out a sigh, her body moving with the rhythm of his breathing. “No.”

  She lifted her head, placing her chin on her folded hands on his chest. She smiled. “Good. I missed you terribly while you were gone.”

  Little else could send shooting pains through his heart than those words or the expression of happiness and contentment on her face.

  He must have showed his discomfort, for her head jerked up. “What?”

  Basil looked away. Coward! He couldn’t even bring himself to look into her eyes. Suddenly the wall of his bedchamber looked most interesting.

  “Basil? Are you leaving again?”

  This was it. He could delay it no longer. He forced his gaze back to hers. He lifted his hand to brush the hair away from her face. Ah, what a face! She was such a beauty with her fair skin and green eyes. He wanted to memorize each feature, to never forget what she looked like in this moment, to carry an image of her seared in his mind even into the afterlife.

  “Not willingly,” he said in answer to her question. He kept his voice calm, serene even, as he continued. “Julia, there’s something I should have told you a long time ago. I’m dying.”

  The words tasted like dust. He kept his gaze on her, watching her reaction. Trying to prepare his heart for her anger, her dismay, her hate. Yes, that’s what he feared the most. He didn’t realize it until that moment. He was afraid. What if she left him? What if when she learned he had this most horrible disease, she would cut ties with him rather than watch him suffer until the end?

  But, she just stared. For several moments, she studied his face. Measuring the look in his eyes perhaps? He didn’t know what exactly she looked for, but his heart thumped wildly, waiting for her answer.

  “I know,” she said, her voice calm and serene.

  “You know?” Agai
n, the dust smothered him as he spoke. He needed a drink, a stiff drink. Soon. He wondered if Sage would return with a bottle in anticipation of his needs.

  “The,” Julia began, but faltered. She studied him again, although her eyes had widened a bit. Her fingers tightened into fists on his chest.

  He gave her the time she needed to continue. She said she knew of his condition. Had she guessed it when he needed her help to stand last night? There must be any number of reasons for his condition upon his arrival last night. At the moment, he couldn’t think of any save the truth. But, how had she guessed it?

  He waited for her to continue and while he did, he studied every feature of her face, every curve, every pore on her perfect skin. He smiled as he admired her beauty.

  “I recognized the symptoms. Susanna had…it,” Julia said, unwilling to say the name of the disease that claimed the woman’s life. “I stayed with her, did you know? Until the very end. That’s what drove Drake to insanity. His wife meant everything to him and he tried beyond all measure to save her.”

  She paused for a moment.

  “How long have you had it?” she asked, nearly choking on the words. Ah, the dust has settled in her mouth, too.

  “Ten years.”

  Her eyes lit with understanding. “That’s why you left.”

  He nodded. “I thought to find a cure. I’ve been to every witch and sorcerer I could find. I’ve followed every clue and rumor. I’ve traveled to four continents, into jungles and deserts. Into crowded cities and the remotest villages. I’ve found an herb that suppresses the condition, perhaps prolongs life a bit, but no cure. In fact, I never expected to live even this long.”

  “Then you never planned to return, did you?”

  He shook his head. “How could I? When all I could give you was grief? You know typically after the first signs of the disease, the sufferer will last only a few months, maybe a few years. Little did I know the herb I found would help prolong it. But the symptoms continued unabated. My episodes are more frequent and last longer each time. It will not be much longer.”

  “How long, do you think?”

  Basil shrugged, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger. “Days. Maybe weeks. Not more than that, I fear.”

  “Weeks,” she whispered, her eyes going distant as she stared solemnly into nothing for a while. A tear glistened in the corner of her eye.

  This was it. Now, she will rage for not telling her sooner. For lying.

  But, she shook her head, as if snapping out of the trance she had succumbed to.

  To his utter surprise, she smiled. “Well, then we’d better make the most of the time left to us.”

  She lowered her head and kissed him. Basil lost himself for several heated moments, but at last he pulled away to look up.

  “You do not hate me? You’re not going to scream in rage because I lied?”

  “I could never hate you, Basil,” Julia said, stroking his chin with her fingertip. “And what good would screaming or crying do? If my tears would cure you, I’d cry enough to fill oceans. But, it will do no good. I’ll weep for you, this is true. At some moment I must. But, if we have only a brief time together, then I’m not about to waste precious moments on tears. I’d rather spend it loving you, showing my love for you, loving you enough to last a lifetime.”

  “Oh, Julia,” he said then sighed. “Marry me, Julia. Be my wife.”

  She nodded, smiling and again tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes. “Yes, my love. Yes.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Several days later, Julia had just finished pouring tea at the table by Basil’s bedside when Mrs. Prescott entered, gathering her shawl close around her shoulders.

  “You have a caller, Basil,” Mrs. Prescott said upon entering. “I’ve just encountered Parker on the stairs. He tells me there is a man here to see you.”

  “Did he give his name?”

  “A Mr. Reed, he tells me.”

  Basil straightened, a broad smile lighting his face. “Indeed?”

  “Shall I have Parker bring him up?”

  “Yes, please do,” he answered, the grin never leaving his face. Mrs. Prescott nodded her approval and stepped out to speak with Parker who hovered by the doorway.

  Julia leaned forward. “Who is Mr. Reed?”

  “He’s my assistant. I found him in Belgium about six years ago about to be beaten to death by a band of ruffians. I intervened and saved his life. He returned the favor by saving mine, more than once I might add.”

  “Oh,” Julia said, leaning back as Mrs. Prescott re-entered the room.

  “I’ve spoken with the girls. Melora was finally able to find a mirror to use for contact,” she said and lowered herself into her favorite chair which the servants had moved up from the library several days ago. Julia poured another cup of tea, preparing it the way the dear old lady liked it.

  “And how do they do?” Basil asked, carefully sipping the hot liquid while sitting propped up by pillows in his bed. His hand trembled as he lowered the teacup. “Do they still need rescuing? Since the snow has finally stopped, Sage can ready the horses and be on his way in an hour’s time.”

  “Oh, Basil. Would he, do you think?” Aunt Petunia asked. “I won’t rest easy until they’re home safe.”

  “Of course, though it’ll be a few days before he can get them home. Uncle Arden’s estate is at least two days journey south of here. And I suppose he’ll have a few words to say about their departure.”

  “Oh, no, Sage won’t have to travel there, after all. They’re staying at a house west of here. Caldwell House.”

  “Caldwell? Never heard of it.”

  “It’s owned by a Mr. Collins.”

  “Well, how the devil did they end up there?”

  “It’s a long story. Each has their tale to tell. But, here’s the thing, Basil, which has me out of sorts with worry. They’re both in love.”

  “With Mr. Collins?”

  “No, no,” she said, waving her hands at his misinterpretation. “Melora says she’s in love with Mr. Collins, and Lillian is to marry Lord North.”

  “North? I haven’t heard of him either.”

  “I have,” Julia said, joining the conversation. She set her cup of tea on the tray. “Lord Jeremy North is very handsome, I hear.” She smiled as Basil slanted a look her way. “And very wealthy. He’s quite a catch, they say.”

  “Do they?” Basil muttered, staring into the bottom of his teacup. Was he wishing for something a little stronger than tea?

  “He does, however, have some odd habits, they also say. He sends his entire staff on holiday once a month, every month.”

  “Must be an eccentric,” Mrs. Prescott added.

  “Indeed,” Basil muttered again.

  Julia glanced his way. He still seemed disgruntled over her ‘handsome’ remark. She reached for him, wrapping her slender fingers around his hand.

  “You’re much better looking, Mr. Merriweather,” she whispered as Mrs. Prescott launched into a long list of reasons why his sisters needed to be delivered home at once.

  He grinned, and Julia realized he must have been funning her. He clasped her hand. She blushed, but did not worry over any comment Mrs. Prescott might utter. They explained their intentions to her on the same day they returned from Drake’s castle.

  She had been happy beyond belief, especially when Basil informed her that he intended to remain at Merriweather Manor and halt his world-traveling. He did have to explain the other reasons he intended to stay, and he would have waited a day or so before he approached her about it. But, his illness grew worse. He had no choice but to explain why he had such difficulty standing without assistance.

  His aunt had been upset, considerably at first, but later she admitted she suspected something of the sort. Basil had never been one for travel when he was young, more the responsible sort that stayed home to see to family. When he left and didn’t immediately return, her heart told her something was amiss.

  J
ulia wasn’t sure if what his aunt said was true, or if she merely wished to take the weight of guilt from his shoulders. He was sensitive about those in his family since he loved them dearly.

  She gave his hand another squeeze before pouring more tea.

  “I haven’t even told you the worst,” Mrs. Prescott said, oblivious to the heated looks Julia received from Basil, and she to him.

  “I implore you, Aunt, tell us all,” Basil said, grinning at Julia. She doubted he’d heard a word of his aunt’s dissertation. He’d spent the last few moments ogling her in such a way Julia couldn’t stop from imagining what he intended later. He was certain to demand she sneak into his room, as she had every night since they promised to marry. On the nights he had no strength to express his love in a physical manner, they would hold each other close before drifting off to sleep.

  “Well, Melora tells me, and I must beg secrecy from the both of you, but of course you can keep secrets especially regarding family, and just the way your sister went on about this man, I’m all but certain he will become family in a short while, but I’m getting ahead of myself. What was I saying?”

  “Melora says…” Julia prompted.

  “Ah, yes! But, not Melora. No, it’s about Mr. Collins. He’s…” She paused, leaning forward to whisper the word. “A vampire.”

  Basil snorted into his tea.

  Julia jumped in surprise and grabbed a cloth to help him wipe the tea away from his mouth, nose and chin. He coughed, sputtered and laughed, taking the cloth and wiping his face.

  “You cannot be serious,” he said.

  “Did I not teach you about such creatures, my boy?” Mrs. Prescott asked, scolding. “Then again, you and your brothers were never ones to sit still long enough for some of my lessons. It was a wonder you learned any spells at all.”