Chapter 3
A thunderclap shook Lillian awake before daylight.
Dorian’s arm slipped from under her breasts. He got up and the bed shifted.
She missed his touch, his warmth—him. Don’t be a fool. He’s just a man and a nobleman at that. There’s nothing for you in his arms.
Rain pounded on the inn’s roof. Lillian tossed back the covers and joined him at the window. She wore only a shift, and it would be sheer in the daylight.
“It’s going to be a rather long day,” he said.
“I suppose we must remain here at the inn. Bridges will be out, and many roads will be impassable.”
“Indeed.” He looked her up and down. A smile lit his eyes, and it was more than a little gratifying for her. “Whatever will we do with the day?”
She shook her head, but tingles awakened her most intimate places. “Perhaps we can find you a book to read. If not, you might be interested in one I procured from Lord Shafton’s library.”
“You stole a book from his lordship?”
“Borrowed.”
He tilted his head, and his eyebrows rose as he regarded her. “When do you intend to return it?”
“Just as soon as I am finished with it.”
“So you waltzed into the library at Brendaligh, perused the books, and took one?”
“Not exactly?”
“No?”
She walked to her trunk, opened it, and pulled the large, leather bound tomb out. “I stumbled upon this in an alternate library.”
He crossed to her and studied the title. “The World of the Dead.”
“It was the title that drew my attention, but when I saw the date the book was printed, and also that it had been written by a group of monks, I thought it might be helpful.”
Dorian took the book from her hand and opened to the first page with writing. “This is quite old, 1452. Most of this is in Latin.”
“Yes, much of it is in Latin, but there are some interesting notes hand written in the margin.”
“Do you read Latin?”
“No.”
He smiled. “Luckily, I do.”
Excitement bubbled in her stomach. Maybe he really did want to help her uncover the truth. “I thought you were just supposed to watch me and report back to Cullum?”
He shrugged. “I have not been forbidden to help you.”
“Why would you want to? What I intend may well get me tossed from The Company.”
His grin melted her from the inside out. “My reasons for helping are not very complicated.”
“If you think I will let you bed me for a few Latin translations, you are sadly mistaken. I can pay a clergy to read the damn book to me.”
“I already told you, that particular pleasure must be offered willingly and enthusiastically.”
She shrugged. “Men are men. None of you are very discerning when it comes to sexual congress.”
“Such a low opinion.” He sighed and handed her back the book. “I will ask no payment for helping you. It is raining, we cannot continue our journey, and so I will help with the Latin. Do not look for trouble where there is none, my lady.”
“Must I continue to remind you, I am no lady?” She hugged the book tight to her chest.
“I’m afraid so.”
He is infuriating. The strong temptation to whack him over the head with the damn book further frustrated her.
He laughed. “Where exactly did you find it?”
“As I said, the castle has an alternate library.”
“Where?”
“In the dungeon.”
“Locked?”
“Of course.”
“Yet you managed to enter and ‘borrow’ a book.”
“I have yet to meet the lock I could not conquer.” She pulled her shoulders back and stared him in the eye. No amount of censure could make her regret taking a book that might help her find a way to stop the demon invasion.
“That’s handy.”
“It has been from time to time.”
“Well, I suppose we better make use of the time we are trapped by the rain. We can go below stairs and break our fast, then return here for the day. As newlyweds, no one will think our reclusiveness odd. If you will give me a few moments, I will leave you to dress.”
Thoughts of how they might fill a rainy day if they truly were recently married made her cheeks warm. Blast. After a very feminine curtsy, she sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the book. Her attention should have been on seeing to her weapons or arranging her clothes, but she couldn’t help watching him pull his blouse off. He was beautifully muscled, and even the slight effort to splash water on his face and chest cause a remarkable effect.
Lillian longed to touch his bare back and shoulders. Where had that come from?
Mesmerized by the tracks of dripping water disappearing beneath the waist of his trousers, she shamelessly watched him wash and dress. She hummed with desire for this man, a stranger, and yet had slept the night in his arms. A lifetime of fear and fighting had disappeared within his embrace. Safe. Impossible safety had washed over her upon waking up with Dorian. Her skin heated. The sensations traveled to the apex of her thighs, and she squirmed before realizing he might notice her discomfort. She forced herself to sit still until he’d dried himself and put on a fresh shirt.
Dorian turned and met her gaze while he tied his cravat in a simple knot, pulled on his hessians, donned his waistcoat and tailcoat. “Can I do anything for you, Lilly?”
“No.” The one word came out strained and much higher than she’d intended.
He frowned, looking as uncomfortable as she felt. He gave his waistcoat a tug and turned from the room.
She stretched the ache in her back and looked out at the constant downpour. There was little point in trying to make their way south on treacherous roads until the rain abated.
Lillian and Dorian spent the day pouring over the book, but it left them with more questions than answers.
The monks believed demons made a constant effort to enter our world, corrupt humanity, and rule the living. If what they read was true, it changed her ideas about a great many things.
In the small bedroom, they alternated standing, sitting, and pacing the floor. All the while, avoiding touching one another.
Lillian said, “I have always believed the demons wanted us dead. This says they want us subservient.”
“Does that matter?”
“Of course it does. It is far worse.”
“I agree, Lilly, but it does not change the fact that we need to find a way to close the gates, preferably with the demons on the other side.”
“I suppose that is true.” They had debated a great many points. Dorian listened well and expressed thoughtful and insightful ideas. It was clear why Cullum had made him his assistant. He was methodical, organized, and took notes.
In spite of her best efforts to use his help and nothing more, she enjoyed debating with him.
“It’s getting late. Shall we have supper?”
Her wrinkled day dress was serviceable, but not suited to dinner under the guise of being a lady. “I need to change.”
“I will meet you downstairs.” He bowed and left the room.
After dressing, she descended and the innkeeper met her at the bottom of the steps. His face was bright red, and he worried his hands together. “My dear, madam, I have saved a private room for you and your husband for the evening. Forgive me for all the excitement. You must not fear any harm will come to you. I shall see to your safety.”
Dorian stood over the man’s shoulder. She looked at him for some sort of explanation, but received only a knowing stare.
Trouble.
With only the slightest hesitation, she addressed the fretful man. “My good sir, I am certain my husband will see to my safety. You must not worry yourself. This is not your fault. The roads these days are so dangerous.”
“Thank you for understanding.” The strain eased on the man’s face.
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“Lilly, shall we move out of the common area and allow this good man to ease the minds of his other guests.”
She took his arm and allowed herself to be led through the bustling crowd, through a doorway, and into the private dining room.
The innkeeper rushed back out with the promise of a sumptuous meal.
“What’s going on, Dorian?”
His eyes were lighter than one might expect in a man with such dark hair. They turned more gold than brown when amused because she’d stolen Shafton’s book. Dark and stern at the meeting days earlier. Strain tugged at the corners and something else she couldn’t place. “It seems several young people have gone missing. They were headed out for some kind of dancing at the public house in the nearby village and only one arrived of the four.”
Lillian’s heart pounded. “What did the one child who arrived report?”
“Evidently the girl is unable to speak. She was babbling about green skin and slimy flesh.” He spoke in monotone as if repeating the words as described to him.
She tried to put sense to the information. “Did they mention if there have been other disappearances?”
“I asked, but this is the first for many months.”
“I find it difficult to believe it is a coincidence that we arrive here at the same time as demons suddenly attack the village.”
“We are meant to be distracted,” Dorian said.
“Maybe.” His thinking was in line with hers. No arguments. She and Reece had regularly argued over the weather, what to eat, and how to go about a hunt.
“And will we be led into this distraction?” He raised one eyebrow and studied her.
“I will not stand by and allow those children to be sacrificed, or worse, if they can be recovered. I think we must take a look.”
The door opened, revealing a robust woman with a large platter of food. She placed the lamb in the center of the table and left with a bob.
The food was bland but well cooked. Lillian, intrigued by the new development, hardly enjoyed any part of the feast.
“What are you thinking?”
She looked up from her picked at food. “I’m wondering how demons could know where I am going or why? Perhaps it is a coincidence? I told only my closest friends. I have no doubt of their loyalty to me and dedication to the cause.”
“Cullum knew what you were about without being told. Perhaps someone else is equally intuitive and not as loyal. I might have guessed you could not let his lordship’s rant go after the meeting.”
“And did you speak to anyone on the subject?”
Anger flashed in his interesting eyes and was gone an instant later. “I kept my own council. I assure you I would never endanger innocents for any reason.”
“Perhaps it truly is a coincidence.” Lillian stabbed at her food once more before pushing the plate away.
Dorian stood up and offered his hand. She took it. “Let’s go find the girl and see if she will speak to one of us.”
Both of their hands were ungloved, and the touch of skin-to-skin sent a warm sensation rushing through her body. What was it about Dorian Lambert that distracted her so? Whatever it was, she pushed it aside. Neither of them could afford to be preoccupied.
She dropped his hand and clasped hers together.
His expression remained stoic as they left the private dining room.
Dorian sought out the innkeeper’s wife. Mousey brown hair poked out from under her dingy cap. Dark rings smudged under her eyes. All signs pointed toward a hard life for the older woman. He treated her as if she were a queen. “Madam, my wife would like to offer her comfort to the family of the missing young people.”
“You shouldn’t trouble yourself, milady. These are just poor folk.”
Lillian cringed not only from the assumption that she should not or would not care about the fate of people based on their financial situation, but also the title. She was no lady. “I only want to offer some comfort if I can, madam. Please tell us where we can pay our respects?”
Her eyes softened, and she gave the direction to the village. “The Thrushes are good, pious people. I never hear a bad word about them. Even the children are well liked and not a smidge of trouble.”
“I’m sure they are, and this will all turn out right.”
It was close enough to walk. Dorian threaded her hand through the crook of his arm, and they walked along as if they were any married couple out for a stroll. “I assume you are armed, Lilly.”
“Of course. And you?”
“I have a dagger and a pistol, but my hand to hand skills are good as well.”
“Let us hope we shall not have use of those skills tonight.”
“That does not seem likely under the circumstances.”
The house was humble, clean, and bustling with activity. Neighbors ran in and out. Lillian stepped through the door, and the crowd silenced. They looked at her as if she were lost and might realize her mistake at any moment, turn and leave the house. She took several steps inside, allowing room for Dorian to follow her in.
Staring blankly, a girl of perhaps sixteen sat at a wood table. Her dark blond hair stood out from her uncovered head. Dirt smudged her face, and her dress was torn at the arm.
An older woman held the girl around the shoulder.
Lillian looked the older of the two in the eye. “Please forgive the intrusion, Mrs. Thrush. My husband and I are passing through the area and heard of your trouble. We have heard of similar problems and thought perhaps we might be of some assistance.”
A man of perhaps five and thirty stepped into the middle of the room. “Our boy and two younger girls were taken right off the street, not half a mile from home. They was only going to a country dance. They wouldna’ cause no harm.”
Lillian took hold of the man’s hand. He was close to breaking down. “I know they would not, Mr. Thrush. I only want to help recover your children. May I speak to your daughter?”
“She won’t talk. Said some crazy things when she first ran home, but then she went quiet. It’s like she’s been cursed mute.”
The crowd murmured at the word curse. Some dropped to their knees in prayer.
“I would like to try, if I may. I have a way with such things.
Mr. Thrush stepped aside, and Lillian crossed to the table. “I wonder if I might have a word alone with…”
“Joy, her name is Joy.” Tears bubbled over Mrs. Thrush’s lower lids.
With Dorian’s help, Mr. Thrush shooed the neighbors from the house. Chairs scraped the dirt floor, and the low hum of conversation stirred until they were alone.
Lillian pulled a rickety chair close to Joy and leaned in so her mouth was only an inch from the girl’s ear. “Joy, I know what you saw. I know you are afraid, but I will find your siblings. You are not mad.”
Joy blinked and turned her dirt-smudged face toward Lillian. “It was horrible.”
“I know. How many were there?”
“Two. Just two, but so strong and no like any men I’ve ever seen.”
“Were they short or tall?”
“One was unnaturally tall and big like the man from the circus what came when I was little. The other was small for a man with pointed teeth and dead eyes.”
Lillian nodded. “And what direction did they take your brother and sisters?”
“West on the road. I fought and screamed, but I couldna’ save them.”
“This is not your fault, Joy.”
“Will you save them, milady?”
Lillian leaned forward so only Joy would hear. “I will do everything I can to return your family to you, but you must know this was not your fault. There is evil at work here.”
“Who is at fault then?”
Lillian’s chest tightened painfully. “I cannot say. Just be assured you are not to blame.”
Joy’s eyes were wide pools. “Find them. They are good babies.”
With a nod, they bid the family good evening and rushed back to the posting house. On th
e way she grappled with her part in the abduction. “Whether we find them or not, we will need to be out of this area before first light. We will not be revered no matter the outcome. People blame strangers no matter their good intentions.”
“At least we managed a few meals and a good night’s sleep.” His words were laced with mirth.
She chuckled too. Nothing was ever easy. She supposed it never would be.
* * * *
She’d been much better with the family than Dorian had expected. Everyone had taken to her, trusted her. In fact, when he thought of it, he too trusted her more than their acquaintance should warrant. What was it about the woman? She was beautiful, certainly, but there was something else, a quality he couldn’t quite put a word to. He’d felt the pull of attraction to Lillian long before this quest started. He’d always considered it a blessing that they were rarely in each other’s company. Whatever it was that drew him in, he wanted to know more about her.
They’d borrowed two horses from the inn’s stable and demanded saddles. Lillian refused the sidesaddle and asked for a man’s. The stable boy’s eyes bulged and his mouth hung open before he complied.
Dorian chuckled about it while they mounted.
They also informed the innkeeper they needed their things loaded in their carriage and horses ready before dawn. Lilly was right about one thing, no matter the outcome, they would not be welcome when they returned. People often blamed strangers for things they didn’t understand. Better to disappear before they had trouble with humans as well as demons.
She tracked two demons up a mountain pass, as if she’d been born to do nothing else. Perhaps that was the case. Still in the highlands, the terrain was rough, rocky and mountainous. It was an area better suited to sheep than horses. Green patches of grass between gray rock and purple heather.
Holding up her hand, she pulled the horse to a stop. Dorian slowed, watched, and waited.
Lillian touched her nose, alerting him to the scent of wood burning. The wind came out of the northeast. The almost full moon lit the night well enough. They dismounted, and tied the horses to a low bit of brush along the rocky pass.
Spending the bulk of his time with the hunters behind a desk, he willingly took a step back and allowed Lillian to take the lead. She was far more experienced in the field. The fact that she was a woman meant nothing in The Company.
Deception Page 4