by Meara Platt
Lord Eastbourne seemed quite uncomfortable as he said, “Yes.”
“So did… so did…”
Julia knew he meant to say King Cadeyrn, she just knew it. She looked about for something to distract the boy, then saw a magnificent creature emerge from the nearby woods, as though in answer to her wish. “Oh, look! I just saw a white stag with antlers up to the sky.”
Charlie giggled. “You did not!”
“Yes, I did. Come see for yourself.” She reached out and moved him onto her own lap so he could peer out of her window. “There! Do you see him?”
“Oh, yes! Look, Uncle Douglas! Have you ever seen a finer creature?”
Lord Eastbourne leaned forward, his chest pressing against Julia’s arm as he studied the stag. His heartbeat was steady, no rampant leaps whenever they touched. Seemed she was the only one with that affliction.
“He’s coming closer!” Charlie cried, squirming with excitement.
Julia stared in amazement for the creature seemed to grow larger with every stride, until he seemed larger than Lord Eastbourne’s team of horses. “He’s quite majestic.”
Though she’d murmured the words, they seemed to float out of the carriage and directly toward the stag, as if swept on a breeze. In the next moment, snow began to swirl around the stag and then he began to swirl within the snow, faster and faster until snow and stag became a white blur.
She blinked her eyes, once. Twice.
Suddenly, the snow stopped swirling and the stag was gone. In its place stood a man, tall and slender, with black hair and ice-blue eyes. “King Cadeyrn,” she blurted in a horrified whisper.
Charlie shifted on her lap. “What?”
“He was the stag, didn’t you see?”
Lord Eastbourne gently cupped her chin with his finger and turned her gaze to his. “It’s just a stag, Julia.”
“No… I saw him.”
“King Cadeyrn?” Charlie asked.
“Yes.”
The boy quirked his head in confusion. “Who’s that?”
Chapter 13
Four days later, Lord Eastbourne’s coach reached the outskirts of London. As it passed over a small rise on the road, Lord Eastbourne rapped on the roof to order the driver to pull over. “Have a look, Julia,” he said, opening the door as soon as the driver had drawn the coach to a halt.
Without waiting for assistance, he climbed down onto the dusty road, then held out a hand to her. “Come with me.”
At her nod, he helped her down, placing his hands on either side of her waist and lifting her effortlessly. “You won’t be disappointed,” he said, keeping one hand lightly at the small of her back while leading her to the top of the rise though it was only a few steps away. He’d been quite protective of her throughout their journey, especially after the incident with the stag.
She didn’t mind their contact. There was a warmth to his touch that kindled her blood and seared away those frightening memories of the past week, of the faerie king and the eternal cold that had almost claimed her heart.
It was nearing sundown and the sky was a breathtaking splash of colors, of pink and orange streaks of fading light against the lavender horizon. In the distance, golden rooftops glistened and created a shining path toward the muddy waters of the Thames. Smoke billowed from row upon row of chimney stacks, but the black and gray puffs quickly disappeared into the air.
“I’ve never seen anything so grand,” Julia said. Though her gaze was trained on the view, she was every bit aware of the man beside her.
“Neither have I!” Charlie called from the coach, his little nose pasted to the window. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he soaked in the sight of the bustling city.
“I’ll fetch him.” Lord Eastbourne chuckled and left her side but a moment to take the boy into his arms.
A cold blast of wind blew through Julia’s hair in that moment, loosening one of her butterfly clasps. She thought no more about it and, instead, listened in rapt attention as the earl, now back at her side, directed Charlie’s attention along the numerous domes and spires that filled the landscape. His voice was deep and mellow as he explained London’s rich history.
“First order of business is to fit you both with proper clothes. Then Mr. Barrow shall take you to see the sights. The family townhouse has not yet been opened,” he continued in a manner that struck Julia as too casual. “But I have a house for you in a suitable neighborhood. You ought to be quite comfortable for the duration of your stay. I’ll come by as often as I can and Mr. Barrow shall remain with you whenever I’m not about.”
Julia glanced at him in surprise. “I thought… of course, you must have important business to attend to now that you’re back in town.” Important social engagements as well, she realized, for eligible bachelors with titles and wealth were highly prized. The invitations would pour in as fast and furious as rain off the stormy Irish Sea once word got out that the earl had returned to London.
She glanced down at her simple gown, realizing how woefully inadequate it must appear to him. In all likelihood, the Eastbourne townhouse had been readied for him, but he did not wish to have her and Charlie underfoot while he entertained his well-heeled friends.
“If you lack for anything, Julia, you have only to ask Mr. Barrow and he’ll take care of it.”
“Aye, that’s a fact,” Homer assured. “Same goes for ye, Charlie.”
“I want to see places. Will you take me to the park, Mr. Barrow?”
“Certainly, lad. So long as it’s not raining. I’ll take ye to the bake shops, too. Why, ye’ll never taste better fat rascals than in London. Can’t have too many, though, or ye’ll end up fat as me!”
Lord Eastbourne handed the cheerful lad to Homer. “That’s settled, then. Time to move on.”
But he held Julia back while the others climbed back in the traveling coach. “I don’t know quite how to say this…”
“Oh, you needn’t concern yourself about us. We’ll manage quite well without you.”
He cast her an indulgent grin that faded into a moue of concern. “I know you will.”
“Oh dear, I sounded ungrateful. I didn’t mean it that way at all.” She winced as the heat of a blush crept up her cheeks. “I meant, you needn’t worry that we might embarrass you. We’ll keep out of your way.”
“It isn’t that, Julia. I can’t help but notice that you’ve grown more fretful with each passing day. The burden on your slender shoulders seems no lighter. Quite the opposite, you seem more troubled now than when we left Borrowdale.”
“How can I not be? Though I wish to trust you,” she started slowly, wanting to tell him the truth, but worried not only about Charlie, but also for herself. What would she do? What could she do, if Lord Eastbourne suddenly turned against her? He had been kind to her throughout the journey, but was it merely a ruse to draw her off guard? “I have no friends here,” she said, deciding upon honesty. “No one who can protect me or Charlie should you decide to separate us. We’re completely at your mercy.”
“I’ve given my word to protect you so long as you’ve been honest with me.”
“Still, it is the word of an Eastbourne,” she replied, wincing inwardly, for she had just been a little too honest with him.
He frowned. “Is there something else you fear in London? If so, tell me now, while I can do something about it.”
“Something else? Beside you or wicked faeries?” She tossed him a quizzical glance. “Is there something I should fear in London? Is Charlie in danger here?” She clenched her fists to stem the sudden surge of doubt now whirling in her breast.
“No, there’s no danger for him in London. Forget I mentioned it. You looked worried, that’s all.”
She set her hands loosely at her sides as her tension eased. She wanted to trust Lord Eastbourne. After their last night at the vicarage, she no longer thought of him as an enemy. Indeed, she couldn’t stop thinking of him as something much more dear to her heart.
She blamed his w
ondrous kisses for the constant muddle of her thoughts.
She blamed his intimate caresses.
Perhaps it was for the best that nothing could ever come of that intimate night, for she was a commoner and he was an earl. She gazed at the sprawling beauty of London. His world was as far removed from hers as was King Cadeyrn’s faerie kingdom. Still, she needed him to defeat the Fae king. “I am worried,” she admitted.
He took her by the elbow, leading her to a field of grass too small to be considered a meadow. Julia spared Charlie a glance to make certain he was out of earshot. Fortunately, the boy was distracted by Homer who made a great show of tucking a blanket about the youngster’s frail legs and tickling him as he did so.
Charlie’s squeals of delight carried on the wind, his carefree joy a stark contrast to her dread. “It’s about Charlie and that stag we came upon several days ago,” she said, nibbling the corner of her lip. “He saw the stag transform into King Cadeyrn, just as I did. You must believe me.”
He raised a hand to quiet her. “I do.”
She let out a long, trembling sigh. “I wasn’t sure. You never mentioned it again or pressed Charlie about it.”
“I saw no purpose to agitating him.”
“Of course.” She shook her head and cast him a mirthless smile. “He lied to me. I don’t think he’s ever done that before. That’s what troubles me the most. No matter what he claims, he hasn’t forgotten King Cadeyrn. He saw him as clearly as I did.”
“And do you see him now?” Lord Eastbourne asked, the shadows deepening in the green of his eyes.
“No, and I hope never to again,” she responded with a small shudder. “Why do you ask?”
He glanced down.
They were standing in a bed of bluebells where nothing but grass had been growing only moments before.
*
The foursome arrived in London shortly after nightfall and Douglas ordered the driver to pull into the mews behind a quiet street in Bayswater lined with genteel town homes. A broad-shouldered young man who bore a striking resemblance to Homer strode out of the stable, lantern in hand, to greet them. “Uncle Homer!”
“Good to see ye, Samuel,” Homer said and quickly introduced his nephew. “Where’s yer lovely wife?”
“Aw, Peg ran into the house to put on the kettle.” He motioned toward a nicely maintained property on the corner surrounded by a high, stone fence that afforded ample privacy. Torches blazed along its entryway, casting an inviting glow. “We heard the coach come ’round and figured it had to be yer party. Ye must be cold and tired. I’ll get the hearth fires lit, then carry yer belongings upstairs.”
Julia gazed at the house. “It’s most impressive.”
“Don’t be put off by its size,” Douglas said. “You and Charlie will be quite comfortable here.”
“I hope so,” she murmured.
Douglas had leased the house under an assumed name a month earlier, before he and Homer had set off for Borrowdale. At the time, he intended it to be a hideout to shield Charlie from Julia Marsden and her ruffians, should they attempt to steal him back.
He’d left the task of retaining suitable domestic help to Homer, instructing him to find a man to serve as groom and butler, and a housekeeper to handle the cooking and cleaning. Their qualifications were that they had to be honest, loyal, and discreet.
He was pleased by Homer’s choice.
At the time, he’d also deemed it prudent to hide the boy from the dragon dowager, Lady Eastbourne, until she got used to the boy. Little did he realize then that Julia and the dragon dowager would be the least of his problems.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, m’lord,” Samuel said a short while later. “Peg has fed and washed the lad and m’uncle is tucking ’im into bed. Miss Julia’s room is almost ready. Is there anythin’ else ye’ll be needin’ this evening?”
Douglas arched an eyebrow and glanced at Julia. They had settled in the salon to share a light repast.
She shook her head and smiled. “I can’t think of anything, Samuel. You and Peg have taken excellent care of us.”
“Well, ye just ring the bell if ye need us.” He tossed a few more logs into the hearth, stoked the fire, then bowed and backed out of the salon, leaving them quite alone.
The floorboards creaked overhead as Peg bustled about preparing Julia’s bedchamber. Soft voices drifted downward through the rafters. Douglas recognized Homer’s voice and listened to the bits of Charlie’s favorite story, the tale of a young prince on a quest.
Realizing their own voices might be heard upstairs, Douglas leaned closer to Julia. “I had better go,” he said, suppressing the tug at his heart each time she gazed at him with big eyes that were an open window to her thoughts. She wanted to trust him, wanted to like him, and every once in a while, he sensed she wanted to kiss him.
He dismissed the thought as quickly as it came into his mind, realizing it was he who wished to kiss her. “It’s late and I see that you’re tired. Homer knows where to reach me. Don’t hesitate to send for me at any time, no matter the reason.”
She pursed those lovely lips in a thin line and nodded. “I’ll try not to bother you.”
“You’re not a bother. As I mentioned earlier, I have business affairs in town that require my immediate attention. But I’ve left ample funds with Homer and instructed him to provide you with as much of an allowance as you’d like. Spend generously on yourself and Charlie. You’re free to go wherever you like, but I recommend that you and Charlie have your new clothes fitted first. It may not be practical to take Charlie everywhere you go –”
“Such as the modistes,” she said with a gentle laugh.
“Precisely, so leave him here with Peg and Samuel. You’re free to do as you wish, go about on your own, if you like. Homer isn’t your guard. I’ve left no instruction to keep you confined.”
He ran a hand across the nape of his neck, at the moment feeling quite the cad. His urgent business was to provide his solicitor with funds for the extortionist who pretended to be Julia Marsden. With the help of Homer and his Bow Street colleagues, he’d trail the woman back to her lair.
He was no longer certain what he’d do if the extortionist proved to be Julia, after all.
She gazed at him again with those soft, trusting eyes. “I’m sure you’ve been far too generous. Thank you, my lord.” She paused a moment and swallowed hard before continuing. “I never imagined I would say this to a Hawke, but I wish you were also staying under this roof. Charlie and I feel safer with you close at hand. A sad state of affairs, isn’t it?” she said with a shake of her head. “My lifelong foe is also my only friend.”
He nodded, at this moment wishing he and Julia truly had resolved their differences. He’d enjoyed this quiet evening, sitting close in this small salon, chatting amiably and watching the gentle movements of Julia’s body, listening to the pleasant warmth of her voice.
He could get used to spending his nights with her.
And waking up to her smile each morning.
And teaching her the joys of passion in the hours in between.
As though reading his thoughts, she let out a quivering gasp. But her gaze was on the ceiling rather than on him. He realized that her thoughts hadn’t been on him at all, just as his thoughts should not have been on her, not in that way.
“This is a lovely house,” she said, still peering at the ceiling as the floorboards above creaked again. “Every house has natural sounds, groaning stairs and whistling rafters. The vicarage was full of them and they never frightened me until the night I saw King Cadeyrn. Now, every little noise sends shivers up my spine.”
“Julia, you mustn’t weaken. Never forget that you overcame the forces of enchantment at work against you.”
“But I didn’t. Those unnatural forces were too powerful for me and would have claimed my soul had you not been there to save me.”
Kissing her with all the depth of passion he could muster was neither heroic nor much of a rescue. “It is no
simple matter to change who you are deep inside. King Cadeyrn tried with you, but in the end you were too strong for him. I didn’t save you. I found you shivering in a huddle after his attack.”
“I only remember you,” she said quietly.
He sighed. She looked vulnerable and there was a weariness in her eyes that troubled Douglas, though he well understood that this past week had been the hardest of her young life. More important, the signs they’d seen while traveling to London boded of more battles to come.
He hadn’t seen the stag transform into the faerie king during the snowfall, but he had seen the bluebells magically appear beneath his feet in the field. That trick – if it was one – couldn’t be explained.
A piece of kindling suddenly split in the hearth, crackling as it sent embers flying about the room like little points of dancing firelight. Julia gasped, then let out a faint laugh. “They remind me of faeries dancing in the bluebell garden,” she explained.
“They’re merely dying embers,” he insisted, unwilling to admit that he’d been startled by them as well.
Samuel and Peg had done a fine job of making this a comfortable home, but the brightly burning fire and the neatly set table now put him on edge. A shining copper kettle and an elegant tea caddy stood upon the table, the caddy unlocked and open to reveal an assortment of fine China teas. A honey scent rose from the kettle, languidly wafting toward him and mixing with the aroma of freshly baked spice cake on a plate beside the kettle and caddy.
The dancing embers, the scent of honey… no!
He and Julia were making too much of every little noise, every subtle scent. He still wasn’t certain that any of it was real. He let out a soft groan as his gaze darted about the room in search of bluebells and noticed Julia doing the same.
She cast him a look of chagrin.
Douglas took her hand and gave it a light caress. “Perhaps your suggestion has merit. Nobody knows I’m in town yet. I think I shall stay here tonight, after all.”
“I’m glad,” she whispered.
*