“Of course not. All three of us will go.”
He lifted the lifeless body of his mother. Silent tears continued down his face. “I am so sorry, maman.”
Lillian’s heart broke for him. Her gut twisted and her chest hurt. She wanted to ease his pain, but it was beyond her power.
The carriage waited close by, and they climbed in. The drive was slow with Dorian’s horse tied on the back and no need to rush home.
Dorian cradled his mother in his arms, murmuring to her, though his tears had stopped.
Lillian’s mind whirled with questions, but one could not wait. “Why did the master’s plan fail, Dorian? Why did her blood not strengthen that monster?”
His head came up, and his eyes burned with anger and grief. “My mother is the finest woman I have ever known. She was everything good and kind in the world. She did no harm in her lifetime and helped a great many people with the use of the title of Marchioness of Montalembert. When my father was a young man, his father’s steward and his wife were killed. My grandparents took in their sixteen-year-old daughter and gave her an education. It was frowned upon when the two fell in love, but my father married her anyway, and they continued to adore each other until his death. Now that she has joined him, I feel certain they are happy again.”
Her throat closed around the spill of emotions. Tears ran down her face unchecked. “I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am, Dorian. I would have given my own life to save your mother.”
“I have no one to blame but myself. I should have protected her better.”
“You can blame the monster who did this, Dorian. This is not your fault. You and Brice do what is right, and your mother would not have had it any other way. She raised you to be great men. To have chosen a different life to afford her safety, at the expense of the rest of the world, would have only disappointed her.
“Thank you, Lilly.”
The carriage stopped in front of his mother’s townhome. He didn’t open the door as usual, and when she reached out to do so, he placed his hand on hers. “May I ask a favor of you?”
“Anything. I would do anything for you.”
“Will you send for my brother? Tell him what has happened. I will never find the words.”
Emotion both tender and sad swamped her. “Yes, of course.”
The driver opened the door, and Dorian handed his mother down to him before jumping down and carrying her inside himself.
The earlier mayhem had transformed into bereavement at the sight of her ladyship’s body. Never before had she seen servants so devastated over the loss of an employer. The housekeeper took the ladies maid into her arms, and the two women wept together. She would not allow anyone to prepare the body, saying they would care for her ladyship as they always had.
Lillian stayed close but found a quiet spot to pen a letter to Brice. Finding the words wasn’t easy, and in the end, she could only apologize for bearing the worst news and ask him to come to Edinburgh with haste.
She found the butler sitting in the kitchen on the servant level. His head hung, and he clutched it as he stared into the empty hearth.
Realizing she still had her skirts pulled up for battle, she stopped and untied the ribbon that held them above her knees. The material flounced around her feet and she stepped forward. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Jenkins.”
He straightened, though he did not stand. A white bandage covered the wound he’d sustained. “No bother, miss. How can I be of assistance?”
“Are you sure you can manage? That was a nasty gash.”
“I am well. Thank you, but do not concern yourself, miss.”
She admired his strength of will to serve the family. “I have written to Mr. Brice Lambert. He is at Brendaligh Castle near Inverness. I have asked him to come home. Can you have a messenger take it quickly?”
“Yes, of course.”
She thanked him and turned to leave.
“Miss?”
She stopped.
“It is none of my business.”
“What is it, Jenkins?”
“I heard you will be marrying his lordship. Is it true?”
Dorian had told her the servants from his house and his mother’s were in constant contact. In the midst of all the horror, his question sparked joy inside Lillian. “It is true.”
A grin tugged at his lips. “I’m very glad to hear it. The staff is very fond of you as was her ladyship. I wish you great joy.”
The knot in her chest when she’d first agreed to marry Dorian eased for the first time. “Thank you, Jenkins.”
Marrying had always been a thing other people did, but never her. She’d never expected to marry or have children, never wanted any of those things. The change occurred subtly and without warning.
She climbed the stairs to the main level and went to join Dorian in the library. The room was empty.
A footman stood near the door.
“Have you seen his lordship?”
“He is in the office of the old marquis, down the hall and to the left.”
“Thank you.”
Someone banged on the front door.
Since Jenkins was in no condition to run up the steps, and the footman looked terrified the demons had returned, Lillian stepped forward and pulled the door open.
“Is it true?” Drake Cullum asked.
“I’m afraid so.”
His face dropped. “Dorian?”
“He is doing as well as can be expected.”
“What happened?”
She led him into the library and offered him a seat. Pacing, she told him what had happened since they went to visit Abigail.
“Then the master did not get what he wanted?”
“No. He assumed incorrectly that her ladyship was of noble blood.”
“And you were able to wound him?”
“It is hard to say. My blade pierced his chest. It would have been a mortal wound for you or me. He bled, but he did not look injured from my blade as much as he did from not receiving noble blood. It must take a lot of energy to appear as he did. He must have planned to have plenty to spare, and when he did not get what he needed, he faded.”
“What are these vortexes he keeps creating?”
“I have been thinking about that too. I think we need to try Reece’s tactics again. We need to capture a demon alive and find out what is going on. But, I admit, I have no stomach for interrogation.”
“I will do it.” Dorian’s voice was strong, but he slouched and had dark rings under his eyes.
Drake stood. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am, Dorian.”
He only nodded. “I must bury my mother, but then I will get the information we require.”
Drake Cullum stared at the floor, then at Dorian. “I think it best if I handle this, my friend. You should take care of things here. I assume Brice will join you.”
Lillian said, “I have sent for him.”
“I want to be notified if you capture a demon. I do not care what is happening in my personal life. I want to be present during the interrogation.”
Drake nodded. “As you wish.”
Dorian turned and left the library without a word.
“I will leave you to this, Miss Dellacourt.”
She saw Drake to the door and went in search of Dorian.
He sat on a bench between two sconces in the back of an office. Only one candle lit the room, sending a dim shadow along the dark woods but allowing her to make her way across the ruby rug to him.
She sat next to him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her chest.
Her soul ached for him. “What can I do?”
“Your being here is enough.”
She held him and ran her fingers through his hair. “I want to ease your pain. I want to help you.”
He kissed her throat. “I wish you could, Lilly. Truly I do.”
“I love you.”
His embrace tightened. “Thank you. It means everything to hear
you say those words.”
“I have never said them to anyone else. I have never felt this way, Dorian. I fear you will be killed. The master needs noble blood. Your blood can help heal him. He will come for you.” Her heart drummed so hard it pounded in her head. Her skin pricked with sweat. She hadn’t feared anything in so many years. It paralyzed her.
He sat up and looked her in the eyes. “We cannot go forward worrying over what my blood means to the master. He took my mother, and believe me, I will have retribution. In spite of the personal loss to my family, tonight was a victory. We damaged him. He looked even worse before he collapsed back into the vortex. He bled. If he can bleed, he can die.”
Hope bloomed deep inside her. It was true. The master bleeds. She leaned forward and kissed him hard on the lips.
He banded his arms around her and deepened the kiss until they were both breathless. “I do not think I could survive this without you.”
“Do you want to stay here tonight, or shall we go home?”
“I do not want to leave her.”
Lillian’s chest tightened. She ached for him, and she longed for the kind of bond he shared with his mother. Even in death, it was beautiful. “Then we will stay.”
Chapter 12
Lillian spent her days reading over the notes in the margins from the monks’ book and rereading Shafton’s journals. When the knocker sounded, Lillian rushed to the front door, since preparations for the marchioness’s funeral had the entire staff of both houses running in every direction.
Brice Lambert, windblown and mud splattered, stood in the rain on the front stoop. His dark eyes widened, then filled with warmth. Dripping, he walked into the foyer.
“I’m glad you are here, Lillian.” His voice broke.
She opened her arms, and he stepped into her embrace. He was not as tall as Dorian, but stockier with a broader chest. “I’m so sorry, Brice. I feel I have failed you and Dorian. If I could have saved her, you must know I would have.”
He pulled away and gripped her arms. “I have no doubt of that. You are not to blame. Dorian and I chose this life, and we knew it might expose our family to danger. Mother knew it too. She knew what we were fighting for, and it was imperative we continue.”
She hated seeing and hearing his pain. There was no way to ease the way for either Brice or Dorian. All she could do was comfort them. “I’m sorry, just the same.”
He nodded, removed his hat, and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “I am as well. My mother was a remarkable woman, and she did not deserve to be murdered by demon hands.”
There was nothing to say to that. She swallowed down her emotion. “Dorian is in the office. We have been waiting for your arrival to schedule a proper funeral for her ladyship.”
“I could have been here yesterday, but Shafton travels by carriage.”
“The earl is in Edinburgh?” Now she would get some answers.
“He has chambers in the castle.”
“Dorian and I have many questions for him.”
Jenkins rushed into the foyer, apologizing for not opening the door.
Brice looked at the bandaged butler and rushed forward in spite of his slight limp. “Jenkins, are you all right?”
Jenkins straightened. “I was injured in the attack, sir, but I am well enough. Ian and John were not as fortunate, and still we failed to protect her ladyship.”
Brice patted him on the back. “It was not your fault, my friend.”
“Shall I tell his lordship you have arrived?” He took the sodden hat and cloak.
“No. Thank you. I will go and see him now. Do you think a room can be arranged for me?”
“A room has already been prepared in anticipation of your arrival, sir. I will have a bath brought up.”
“Thank you, Jenkins.”
“Sir.” The butler bowed and walked toward the servants stairs.
Lillian walked with Brice to the library door and stopped.
He opened the door and walked inside.
* * * *
The door opened without a knock. Dorian expected to see one of the servants coming in with a question or to check on him. He rather hoped Lillian had returned to sit with him.
Guilt washed over him like a shroud at the sight of his younger brother. He stood, crossed the room, and shook Brice’s hand. “Brice, I… I’m sorry. I failed her and you.”
Brice tightened his grip and pulled him into a brief hug. “It is not your fault.”
The emotion of losing his mother, failing his family, and everything he’d held in for the past few days exploded, and Dorian wept in his brother’s arms. He shook with grief and regret. A torrent of tears flowed down his face. “I should have been here. I should have hired more men to protect her.”
“Dorian, you are my older brother. You are the finest man I have ever known. If something could have been done to save our mother, you would have done it.”
Repulsed by his own behavior, he collected himself and looked Brice in the eyes, but there was no disgust in Brice’s sympathetic expression. “She trusted me to see to her wellbeing as did you.”
“We can debate this all night if you wish. It will change nothing. I was not here because my obligations took me north, and you were doing your job. Blame will solve nothing, but if you must find an outlet for your malice, I suggest you blame the demon master.”
Knowing his brother didn’t blame him eased the pressure in his chest. “Do you want a brandy?”
“Please, tell me everything that happened, if you can bear it.”
“What did Lillian say in her note?”
“Just the basics of what happened and I should come directly. I dropped Shafton off at the castle. Cullum had summoned him. I read the official report, but I prefer to hear it from you.”
Dorian poured two brandies, sat in the chair adjacent to Brice, and told him everything about the day their mother died.
By the time he’d finished, only a few drops remained in the decanter, and it had grown late.
Brice’s eyes filled with tears at the description of his mother’s death and rage at the end. “Then the master is mortal.”
“It seems so.”
Someone knocked and the door opened.
Dorian wiped his cheeks. “Come in.”
The housekeeper stepped inside. “My lord, I’m sorry to disturb you. Mr. Lambert, I’m very happy you have come home.”
Brice said, “It is good to see you, Mrs. Milne.”
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Milne?”
She looked down at a blue velvet bag she worried between her hands. “I do not know what to do with my lady’s jewelry. I removed these pieces from my lady as I cared for her wounds. These should go to your wife. I can put them in my lady’s room.”
Brice cocked his head. “Wife?”
“I supposed betrothed is more accurate,” she said.
Brice’s eyes widened. He stood up and took the velvet pouch from her. “Thank you, Mrs. Milne. We will take care of this. Do not worry yourself.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.” She bobbed and left the library.
He returned to the settee, and still holding the pouch, sat, staring at Dorian with raised eyebrows. “Have I missed something, Dorian?”
“I hope you will not be upset.”
“Now I am intrigued.”
“I have asked Lilly to marry me.”
“Truly?”
“Yes.”
Brice narrowed his eye, and a deep creased formed between his brows. “Perhaps it is indelicate to ask, but why?”
“Do you think her unworthy?”
“Of course not.” Brice sat up straight and his neck reddened.
“Yet you are not happy for us.”
“I did not say that. I am exceedingly fond of Lillian. I want to know why, after years of avoiding ties, you have asked Lillian Dellacourt to be your wife?”
“I am in love with her.”
Brice leaned back with his mouth opened, closed it,
and smiled. “Has the lady given you her response?”
“She has agreed to become my wife.”
“That is even more shocking than the fact that you asked.”
“Why?” He gripped the arms of the chair.
Brice laughed. “You forget, brother, I know Lillian quite well. I trained her and consider her a close friend. She is the least likely woman to be taken in by romance of any I have met. I was half in love with her myself as was Reece Foxjohn. She resisted any and all overtures of devotion. I can only assume she too has fallen in love.”
“You say that as if it is impossible for a woman to love me.”
He laughed again, and this time the sound rang with genuine joy. “You read too much into my words. If Lillian has fallen in love with you and agreed to become part of this family, I could not be more delighted.”
“She has.” His chest tightened.
“You may very well be the luckiest man on the isle, Dorian.”
“I know.”
“I hope you do. I hold her in the highest regard both as a hunter and a person. I will be proud to call her my sister.” Brice opened the jewelry pouch, rummaged through, and the tinkle of metal against metal followed. He pulled out their mother’s ring.
Their father had given her the sapphire encased in gold when he’d begged for her hand. They’d heard the tale a hundred times growing up. Their father loved to tell them how she had captured his heart and never let it go.
Brice leaned forward and offered the ring to Dorian. “I think mother would have given this to you herself. Lillian should have it as a betrothal gift.”
Emotion choked him. “Thank you, Brice. If we survive the next few days, I will ask you to stand up with me at our wedding.”
“It will be my honor.”
* * * *
“My lord.” Vigorous knocking accompanied Jenkins’s voice.
Dorian’s head pounded from the effects of too much brandy. The room was still in complete darkness, indicating night had not passed.
Lillian rolled toward him, wrapped her arm around his waist, and settled her head on his chest.
Flowers and spices filled his senses with the essence of her. Pure delight.
“What is it?” he called.
“A message has arrived from the castle, my lord.”
Deception Page 19