by Burke, Jan
Just as now, he did not know what he could do—short of sacrificing himself to the dog—to leave his lordship’s employ.
No human could help him, although he found himself wishing one could. Earlier, he thought he saw a man standing at the top of the drive, smoking a cigarette, and he found himself wishing someone—anyone—would notice the smell of the basement or hear the sounds coming from it, or see all the damned bugs running toward it.
But in the next moment the smoker was gone, and he began to wonder if he had imagined him being there in the first place.
Late that night, the voice from the basement called to him, telling him to open the back door.
The spiders wanted in.
37
Five days after Rebecca’s arrival, she announced that she would be staying at “the family’s house,” and although Brad had berated her—saying that it was, as Rebecca knew, Amanda’s house, and that Rebecca should apologize and ask Amanda’s permission—Amanda quickly cut off what was bound to escalate into another prolonged battle between the two of them, saying that she needed to make a trip back to the house and would be glad to accompany Rebecca there.
Amanda told Tyler of these plans. After seeing that all his objections were having no effect, he said, “All right, then Alex will take you.”
“Rebecca will want her car.”
“Fine. Alex can drive you down, following her.”
Amanda hesitated, then said, “I’m going to make arrangements for a rental car to be delivered.”
“You may use the Cooper or the van anytime you’d like.”
“To go somewhere alone?”
He didn’t answer right away, and she wondered if she had angered him, but she saw no sign of this on his face or even in the way he held himself.
He said, “If you think about what Brad has been through, I doubt you will decide I’m being overly protective when I say that I would prefer—would beg you, in fact—not to go out alone until we discover more about his attackers. However, I would never want you to feel as if you are imprisoned here. My deepest apologies if you have been eager to escape me.”
“Escape you! If anyone has been an escape artist lately, it’s you.”
“If you mean I haven’t been here much, I admit that’s true. And you know why.”
Amanda took a deep breath and let it out slowly. What was she complaining about? The people he helped were dying. He was their last chance to communicate with their loved ones. What need of hers could be greater than theirs?
The last few days had left her unsure of where she stood with him. Even though he was gone most of the day and until late at night, she continued to sleep in his bed, Tyler keeping watch beside her. Twice they had switched places—his work had caused him to become ill with fever and she had refused to let him sleep on the floor. She did her best to comfort him, although each time it passed within an hour or so. He said these episodes had been mild.
Occasionally he had been affectionate—taking her hand, putting an arm around her shoulders, giving her a light kiss on the forehead—and if beneath that affection she had felt some restraint, she only needed to think of her own restraint in the presence of the ghosts. She should be grateful to him—and to Shade—because, until now, the ghosts had made her doubt her own sanity.
But thinking this made her realize that it might be time to trust her own perceptions for once. She looked at him and thought about his past. And his expertise in keeping secrets. Over all those years, what chance did he have to get close to anyone, to confide in anyone?
“Tyler, what became of your valet, Merritt?”
Startled by the change of subject, he said, “He died.”
“I had assumed that much. One of the worst aspects of what has happened to you, I am sure. You’ve had to watch everyone you’ve loved or cared about die.”
“Actually, I have seldom been at the deathbed of a friend. I wasn’t at Merritt’s. I was in America by then.”
“He didn’t come here with you?”
“No. We spent almost a year together in England after Lord Varre’s death—the death of Marcus deVille, that is. By the end of that time, because of the papers Varre had left to me and the things he had said, I had given more thought to the complications of appearing to be twenty-four forever. To avoid some of those complications, Adrian had either dismissed or murdered his servants after they had been with him a few years—more often the latter. I didn’t want to become anything like him.”
“You aren’t anything at all like him!”
He smiled at her vehemence. “Thank you.”
Much as it comforted her to see that smile, she knew something had been bothering him lately. But what?
“So,” he went on, “having heard tales of this country, I decided to come to America, where English was spoken but I was not known, where I could move often and live without servants. A place with a vast wilderness to recommend it.”
“Merritt didn’t want to join you?”
“When I first mentioned it, he begged me to take him along. I’m afraid I was a bit underhanded. I purchased a home near that of Widow Makins. I sent him on many errands to ensure that she was being well cared for.”
“He married her?”
“Yes, when a decent period of mourning had passed. In those days, that was required. During that year, I considered what I must do regarding his employment. I had already realized that he was an excellent judge of horses and an expert in their care. So I asked him to stay in England as a business partner, and eventually he agreed to do so.”
“You never saw him again?”
“Oh, in the first few years, I traveled back to England fairly often.” He paused. “But after ten years or so, I heard more and more comments on my youthful appearance. I reached the point of realizing that I needed to say good-bye to my friends and family there. Merritt was happily married and had made a great success of our business, and my brother and his wife were happy with their family. I decided I wanted to remember them in that way, and stopped going to England until the twentieth century, by which time anyone there who had known me had died. In the decades before that return, I wrote to them and tried to be content with staying connected to them through our correspondence.”
“That can’t have been easy.”
“The years when those people were dying were the most difficult time, I think, because I had to let go of relationships that I had formed naturally. By that I mean I had grown close to those people without knowing that I would become such a changed creature. Anyone I met after I first visited the estate of Lord Varre—well, if I met someone new, I was fully aware of what was at risk.”
He fell silent, and put his head in his hands.
“So you kept your distance.”
“That was for the best,” he answered absently.
“Did you grow homesick?”
“Hmm?” He looked up at her and said, “Sorry, I was lost in memories there for a moment. What did you ask?”
“Did you miss England?”
“For a time. When I returned, the England I had known was gone. People, times, places—the world does not stand still. Nothing remains unchanged.” He gave her a wry smile. “Other than yours truly.”
“I don’t believe that’s true. Physically, you may be the same, but you can’t tell me that you’ve remained unchanged.”
“You’re right, of course.”
“You’ve adapted remarkably, really—you know how to use a cell phone and computers and other modern things.”
He laughed. “It isn’t as if I’m a time traveler, you know. I wasn’t suddenly taken from the nineteenth century and dropped into this one. Besides, I confess to a fondness for gadgets. And you are forgetting the desert house.”
“No, I don’t think I’ll ever forget the desert house.” She moved closer to him.
He watched her, almost warily, she thought. She took one of his hands.
She stroked his fingers. He seemed to relax a little.
She studied those fingers, and said, “In the papers you gave me, your history—you said you couldn’t remove the memento mori—the mourning ring.”
“For a long time, I couldn’t. Then I found a way.”
“How?”
He hesitated, then said, “Colby hinted to me that it was possible. So I started to search for a method. Among Adrian’s papers, I found a great many works on sorcery and necromancy. Most of those writings seemed to me to be utter nonsense. But now and again—very rarely, mind you—I came across something that…”
She waited, trying to make herself still and quiet so that he would continue. After several moments, he said, “Now and again I would find a passage that almost seemed to call to me. Whatever language it was in, I could read and understand it. You might show me another page in the same work, and I would find it unfathomable.
“One of these passages concerned the removal of the ring. I said the chant, not knowing exactly what might happen once the ring was off. Would I age? Fall down dead? I would have considered either a good outcome. As I said the final words, the ring slid easily from my finger. I felt a great relief—but I was dismayed to learn that removing the ring did not change my situation in the least.”
“Did you destroy it?”
“No. It’s hidden.”
Before he could say more, she held up a hand and said, “I won’t ask!”
“Thank you, Amanda. The ring is so dangerous, you see.”
“I understand.”
He smiled. “As no one else does.” He studied her for a long moment, then said her name as a whisper.
They heard Shade growl and they broke away from each other.
“The chaperones?” Tyler asked, looking in the direction the dog was staring.
“Yes,” she said. She sighed and stood up. The ghosts disappeared.
“Maybe we should have a talk with them,” Tyler said, standing beside her.
“I suppose you’re right. Tonight?”
“Yes—although—”
“If you have to work, I’ll just wait for you.”
He looked toward the dog. “Shade’s not growling now, so I take it they aren’t looming too close?”
“No. They’re over by the fireplace now.”
“Just being protective, I suppose.” He seemed lost in some kind of troubling thought.
“Tyler?”
“You won’t mind if Alex drives you down to your house today, will you, Amanda?”
“No, not if it will make you feel better.”
“Thank you—I would be worried otherwise.”
“You still seem kind of tense to me. What else is on your mind?”
She heard him swallow hard. “Once you’re there—you will come back?”
She looked up at him. Was he oblivious to how she felt about him? She wasn’t the one who had become distant. Men. “Yes, I’ll come back.”
She saw the relief go through him, but then he said, “I—I understand that I’ve seemed, well, reticent. And if that reticence has hurt you, Amanda, I’m so sorry. It’s just—this is something new for me. I wasn’t expecting this. I want to be sure I’m not putting you in danger.”
“If you think I’m going to let those thugs who beat up Brad rule my life—”
“No, no. Of course not.”
“Well, I don’t mean to say you’re afraid of them either.”
She saw him tense.
“I’ve said something wrong, haven’t I?” she said.
“No, but remember—courage is one of the many virtues I can’t lay claim to.”
“Listen to me, Tyler—I’m serious about this. How many people could cope with half of what you encounter in the average day? Or have the strength of mind to adapt over centuries, or to face loss after loss, and solitude, and all the other things that are part of your life? So don’t ever tell me you lack courage.”
He smiled. “See what comes of knowing my secrets, Amanda? You’ve been burdened with my complaints.”
“Not at all. I like learning more about you.”
He traced a finger over her eyebrow. “Just be patient with me, if you can.”
“Likewise.”
“I want to learn more about you, too. Perhaps we could use this time—until we can figure out how to rid ourselves of our chaperones—to get to know each other better.”
“Yes. I like that idea.”
“Good.”
He was, she thought, caught between his attraction to her and a nearly two-hundred-year-old habit of not allowing himself to get too close to anyone. Talk about commitment challenged! This was not going to be easy, but hell if she was going to give up on him.
The intercom buzzed. Tyler answered and listened. “Excellent. We’ll meet you in the library.”
When he hung up he said, “Alex has a report for us on Eduardo Leblanc.”
38
None of Brad’s friends has seen Eduardo Leblanc recently,” Alex said to the group gathered in the library—Tyler, Amanda, Brad, and Ron. Rebecca was a no-show. “In fact, Brad seems to have been the last person to see him.”
“You think he’s moved?” Amanda said.
“Or is dead,” Ron put in. “These people obviously play rough.”
“Hard to say,” Alex said. “For all I know, Eduardo’s still alive.” She handed a photo to Brad. “Is that him?”
Brad studied it. “Wow. He’s younger in this photo, but yes, that’s him.”
She handed the photo to Tyler. The photo had been taken on a ship. A handsome, dark-haired young man smiled at the photographer. It was hard to gauge his build—cradling a dive helmet in his arms, he was dressed in a deep-sea diving suit.
“Eduardo Leblanc has a habit of showing up in places and then disappearing for a while,” Alex said. “He’s traveled throughout Europe, especially in England, Spain, and Italy.”
Tyler passed the photo to Amanda. “You have a list of places he visited?”
“Some.” She consulted her notes. “London, Bristol, York, Chester. Paris, Marseilles. Rome, Florence, Ferrara, Milan. Barcelona, Madrid, Valencia. He spent time in Navarre—a little longer than the other places. I also have reports that in each of these places, he often vanished into the countryside for days at a time.”
Tyler frowned. “I’ll give you a list of some properties near each of those areas. I’d like to know if he visited any of them.”
“Yours?”
“No,” he said, “but if my list matches his travel pattern, I have an idea why he may have visited those areas.” From the time Horace Dillon, the homeless man whose deathbed he had attended five days ago, had mentioned “an old enemy,” Tyler’s suspicions had lain in Colby’s direction, even though he had never truly considered Colby as such—probably because he was irritated by Colby’s attention to Amanda. Now, he saw his mistake.
All of the cities Alex had named were places where Adrian deVille had lived. In outlying areas some miles from each of them, Adrian had built small cottages, places where he might safely reappear. Tyler had spent a great deal of time discovering these retreats and systematically destroying them. Had he found them all?
He could only imagine Adrian’s wrath at discovering that his refuges no longer stood.
Alex said, “I asked if they were your properties, because Eduardo was apparently looking for you.”
“For me—by name?”
“Yes. He asked about you in each place but didn’t get any help.”
“Tyler…,” Amanda said faintly.
He smiled, trying to reassure her. “Shade is still with me, remember?” He turned to Alex. “What’s his source of wealth?”
“That’s a little difficult to determine, but I have some guesses.”
“Is sunken treasure one of them?” Tyler said.
She stared at him in astonishment. “How did you know?”
“Let’s say I made a good guess. Otherwise, I begin to believe I have been remarkably stupid about all of this. Tell me what else
you’ve learned about Eduardo.”
“Eduardo Leblanc is indeed his real name. Cuban American, born and raised in Florida. He has been estranged from his family since he was a teenager—his dad owned a dive shop, and Eduardo was a good diver, by all accounts. Eduardo turned eighteen, dropped out of high school in his senior year, went to work as a diver for a salvage company. Seemed happy with it until one disastrous dive.”
“They found the Morgan Bray.”
“The Morgan Bray—,” Amanda said.
“You know about it?” Alex said, openly puzzled.
“I knew someone who lost an ancestor on it,” Tyler said. “And, as it happens, I recently spoke to Amanda about that. It was a famous shipwreck in its day. Said to be cursed.”
“Well, that sure fits what happened to this expedition,” Alex said. “It nearly drove the company out of business. The owner said he had never experienced anything like it, and Eduardo was not the only diver who quit after that day. He and another diver were attacked by sharks—”
“Two divers?” Ron said. “Shark attacks on humans are really rare, and it’s almost always a lone diver or a surfer.”
“The owner of the dive company said much the same thing. He had worked in the Caribbean for decades, completed hundreds of dives, and had never seen sharks behave as they did. It was unheard of. But that wasn’t the only thing that went wrong. Other members of the dive crew suddenly fell ill. Tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of the ship’s specialized equipment malfunctioned or was damaged.”
“They don’t blame Eduardo for all of that, do they?” Brad said.
“No, of course not.”
After a moment, Tyler asked, “Do you think the ship owner would let you see a list of what they recovered from the Morgan Bray?”
“I’ll ask. He told me they had just started work on it when this disaster happened, and it took years for him to rebuild his company—the legal fees alone nearly did him in. But his company had the salvage rights, and he returned. He said they had no problems whatsoever after that.” She paused. “I got caught up in his story, but he gave me most of the information I was looking for early on—that Eduardo Leblanc had worked for him, but quit and never returned after the problems with the Morgan Bray.”