Darkest Dreams

by Jennifer St Giles

  “I deeply regret that you find yourself in such circumstances, but—”

  I stood, unable to hear more and not about to beg. “Mrs. Murphy’s scones are in the basket. I apologize for intruding and wish you well, my lord.” Then I turned and quit the room. Three steps down the corridor, I realized two things. I didn’t have my gloves nor did I have Aphrodite’s ring. Panicked, I swung back around and ran directly into an embroidered black dragon on a white shirt with the hard body of Alexander behind it. He exhaled sharply, and the heat of his breath was what I imagined a dragon’s fire would feel against my skin.

  Chapter Five

  “Oh,” I said, taken completely by surprise. His heat registered first, then the hard feel of him, so solid beneath my bare palms that had somehow landed against his chest. Then the scent of him enveloped me, exotic and alluring, unlike any aroma I’d ever experienced.

  He brought his hands up to grab my waist as if seeking—unnecessarily—to steady me. I had to draw in another breath as my body tingled in an utterly shameless manner. The sensations grew as his gaze settled directly upon my rising bosom.

  More frightening than that was the fact that whatever he was thinking or imagining was obscured from my mind by what I could only describe as a dark cloud, an angry one, roiling with such emotion that I had to quickly step back.

  He dropped his hands from my sides, and his gaze shifted to mine. Anger flashed in the vibrant green depths of his eyes, as well as something else, something equally potent and hot and mesmerizing.

  “Are you always so rudely rash?”

  Air flew from my lungs. “Me rude?” Accusation rang high in my voice, along with a healthy dose of outrage.

  Amazingly, a half smile quirked the left corner of his mouth, and a dimple flashed on his cheek. “Well, just rash then,” he amended. “You didn’t even give me a chance to finish my sentence before you ran as if the devil himself had set fire to your skirts.”

  It wasn’t the least bit of a stretch to see him as the devil, and he’d sparked more heat in me than I’d ever felt in my life before. Not just from his touch, either. I had acted “rash” as he put it.

  “I only sought to save you from the embarrassment of having to supply a number of excuses, my lord. You’re tone conveyed your sentiments rather well.”

  “Then you are not very adept at reading tones or sentiments, lass. So I will thank you to at least let a man finish speaking for himself before you speak for him.”

  Had I been able to think of a reply I wouldn’t have been able to utter it; my jaw had dropped so low speech was impossible. I wasn’t adept at reading people?

  After a long moment he spoke. “Shall we return to the parlor?”

  I nodded.

  His lip quirked again and he stepped aside, motioning me ahead. The weight of his gaze slid warmly down my back as I returned to the settee and immediately donned my gloves and ring lest I forget them again.

  He chose to pace across the room rather than sit. “As I was saying, I deeply regret that you are in such circumstances, but do you realize how extensive the task you’re proposing is? My home here is by no means modest, and the estate near Hampton Court is larger. Both of them are—” He glanced around the room. “—what was it that you used? Chaotic?

  “It would seem several generations thought only of collecting artifacts, not storing or exhibiting them. To do a proper job of cataloguing the Killdaren’s collection would take some time.”

  My mind boggled at the very idea even as excitement pulsed through me. So many treasures that needed noting and caring for! I cleared my throat. “While I understand your need to caution me, let me assure you, I in no way find the enormity of the task a deterrent. The challenge you present is more than enticing.”

  He shifted abruptly, his regard direct and searching. My response seemed to surprise him. I met his gaze with assurance and what I hoped was a wealth of interest. The very thought of being able to touch and organize a multitude of treasures from all over the world such as the porcelain vase and the African masks set my pulse racing.

  “I see that it is,” he replied strangely.

  I blinked, wondering at his tone. “Quite frankly, I am extremely enamored of artifacts. It has been that way for me all of my life. I do not come to you without a great deal of experience.”

  He coughed, but I continued, too enthusiastic to plead my case to heed his odd behavior.

  “I believe I mentioned earlier this summer that I have catalogued and organized my father’s vast archeological collections for the Museum of Worldwide Antiquities in Oxford since I was a child.”

  Clearing his throat, he nodded. “Yes, I do remember our conversation. So, the length of this task isn’t going to be a problem for you?”

  I firmed my lips with determination. “No. As I said, I would prefer it to be kept as a private matter, but I find myself in the position of needing to earn a living.”

  He studied me again, seemingly more intent than ever. I didn’t let my gaze waver. “One last thing. Is my brother aware of your employment interest here?”

  I stiffened my back. “What is the point of your question? I don’t see that my future has anything to do with my brother-in-law. He carries no authority or guardianship over me.”

  “The point is, I am fairly certain your continued association with me will be unacceptable and will likely cause strife.”

  “If that proves to be the case, then as I said, my intent is to support myself. I will secure accommodations in Dartmoor’s End if necessary.”

  His brows lifted. “You surprise me, Miss Andrews. From what I recall, you are very close to your sisters. Yet, you appear determined to separate yourself from them. Why?”

  I had to blink back the tears that burned my eyes. “Unfortunately, my lord, whether we will it or not, sometimes circumstances dictate that our lives take unforeseen and sometimes painful directions.”

  “That I do know,” he said softly, in a tone of voice I’d yet to hear him use. By the time my eyes cleared enough to see, he’d turned his back to me and was once again staring out of the window. His profile cut a sharp, dark silhouette against the sunlight streaming into the room. “I’ll expect you to begin tomorrow morning then. Mrs. Lynds will be here and available for any of your needs. As my butler is currently indisposed, and I keep only a modicum of servants, please leave a list of supplies you’ll require with her and let her know if you need any assistance. Some of the artifacts can be heavy and bulky. Also, last time I looked, there were a number of unopened crates stored in the Queen’s room. I’ve no idea what is inside of them.”

  I couldn’t fathom such a sacrilege. “You mean you’ve never opened them? Whyever not?”

  “I choose to dwell as little as possible upon anything from the past,” he said.

  “Well then, I will see you tomorrow.” I stood, deciding that I had best take my leave before he changed his mind about allowing me to meddle with his things from the past.

  “Unfortunately, I won’t be about,” he replied, turning to face me.

  “Oh?”

  “Right now, I’m spending the majority of my day training Iris to respond to my touch. She’s an exceptionally intelligent horse.”

  “I see,” I said, feeling slightly deflated. Though my main focus this morning had been employment for my future good, I hadn’t lost sight of the importance of my sister’s situation. Developing a more than passing acquaintance with Alexander was essential. “Might I see her again sometime soon? She was very beautiful and graceful. I would enjoy watching her run.”

  “We’ll have to arrange that sometime then.” His voice trailed off as if that might not happen any time soon. Then he surprised me. “Do you ride, Miss Andrews?”

  “Some, when I can. We had little need and no opportunity for the pastime in Oxford.” I thought for a moment he would offer to take me riding, but he didn’t.

  “Tell Mrs. Murphy that I thank her for the scones.”

  “I’l
l be sure to.” Were my stomach not so knotted and his tone not one of such dismissal, I would have ventured to share my scones with him. As it was, I walked to the door. “Thank you for your time today. I know you are a busy man, and I apparently interrupted your swordplay, so I’ll see myself out.”

  Moving swiftly, he caught up to me at the door of the parlor. “Fencing,” he said correcting my nervous words and taking hold of my elbow. “I haven’t engaged in ‘swordplay’ since Sean and I were in knappers. And though I have my rough edges, Miss Andrews, I am gentleman enough to escort a lady to her conveyance.”

  One would think that the more time I spent in his presence the more immune I would become to the effects of it. That was not the case. By the time we crossed the grand entry hall to the ebony doors, my pulse raced with the tingles his touch sent shooting though me.

  It was disturbing that his mind remained so closed to me. Was it because he really did have something deep and dark to hide? Something more than anyone else I’d ever known? The idea shocked me and I gasped.

  He looked at me strangely.

  I nodded at the huge ebony doors, seeing they were carved with the same images on the inside as the outside. “The craftsmanship on the entry doors is impressive,” I said, sounding odd even to my own ears.

  “I thought so. I commissioned a man in China to make them for me. He did a remarkable job with the design I gave him.”

  I nearly came to a stop, would have if he hadn’t had a hold on me. He’d designed the dragons in the throes of death? Somehow that fact sat coldly inside me, making me very thankful to feel the bright sun and see my driver waiting with the buggy. Killdaren’s Castle and the warmth of my sisters was just a short ride away, and I suddenly yearned to be there, wishing everything were different, wishing I were normal. The thought of my family comforted as well as defeated, for it wasn’t a very independent yearning.

  “Tell me everything quickly. Mrs. Murphy will bring us tea shortly, and I’m sure the others will join us then. You weren’t there very long today.” Cassie pulled me into the parlor, shut the door and opened the black curtains that covered the windows to let sunlight fill the room. With Sean sleeping, she didn’t have to worry about him accidentally walking into what would be a painfully blinding light for him and triggering a migraine.

  “There isn’t much to tell. I’ll begin cataloguing tomorrow. The place is in an awful state though.” I told her about the overstuffed menagerie of artifacts, about the priceless red, dragon-marked vase, about the castle itself and the savagery of its architecture, then about the doors. “The dragons are in horrible pain; they leap from the carving and grab your heart. Do you know he designed them himself?” I shuddered again. “Why would a man want such a scene to be the first thing everyone sees at his door?”

  “It’s them,” Cassie said softly.

  “Pardon?”

  “I’d wager you almost anything that the dragons on the doors are Sean and Alexander. Oh this is very good news, Andrie.”

  I bit my lip at the hope shinning in my sister’s eyes. How she determined such a thing as good escaped me. I feared she wanted things to be a certain way so badly she’d interpret anything in such a way as to give her hope. “You’re going to have to explain yourself.”

  “Don’t you see?” She pressed a palm to her stomach. “It’s symbolizing the Dragon’s Curse, but though the dragons are in pain, and they’ve been wounded dreadfully, they’re still on their feet.”

  “A devil’s fork through their hearts isn’t just a dreadful wound, it is a mortal wound. But you could be right,” I said, but that wasn’t what I was thinking. Given the carving, if what Cassie supposed was true and the dragons did represent Alexander and Sean, then the message was that neither of them would survive the curse.

  A knock on the door produced Bridget pushing a tea cart, with Prudence and Gemini following close behind.

  “Tea is served, my queen,” Bridget said with her pretty nose in the air. She did a good impersonation of a stuffy, self-important lady’s maid.

  Cassie laughed and Bridget gave her a saucy grin. “Whot? Ya think’n I’m not prop’r-like?”

  I immediately recalled Bridget’s scandalous thoughts earlier, a memory that heated my cheeks and made me avert my gaze from her greeting, but not before I saw a questioning hurt in her eyes, as if I didn’t think she were proper.

  My stomach knotted. I’d have to find a way to apologize. When Cassie had first come to Killdaren’s Castle, she’d taught Bridget how to read and write, and now she and Cassie held weekly classes for all of the servants. Bridget sometimes tended to be self-conscious about her education around anyone other than Cassie.

  “I hope your errands went well this morning, Andrie,” Bridget said, seeking to amend or smooth whatever gaff she felt she had made.

  “Very well.” I forced the “vampire lover” and the “naked in Stuart’s bed” memory to the back of my mind and smiled warmly at her. I don’t know why it embarrassed me to know her mind. My thoughts of Alexander hadn’t been any different. But then I would be mortified if anyone knew and I didn’t know that they knew. My head ached at the circles my mind ran in.

  “What errands?” Gemini snitched a scone from the tea cart before settling on the peacock blue damask sofa. The rich color against her pink and lace tea dress, creamy complexion, and sunny hair, made her shine like a jewel and turned her blue eyes vibrant, though I could still see the shadow of yesterday’s tragic accident in them.

  “Our Andrie has secured herself a post,” Cassie said abruptly.

  Gemini coughed on her scone as Prudence and Bridget’s mouths formed perfect Os.

  “You didn’t even tell me you were looking for a position!” Gemini gasped, clearly upset. “Where? Doing what? You two never tell me any of the important things.”

  “I went to Dragon’s Cove. The viscount has hired me to catalogue the Killdaren family’s antiquities. Remember?” I looked at Gemini, trying to soothe her feelings. “It was a position he mentioned earlier this summer. I have been desperate to busy my hands with artifacts, and this seemed like a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

  “Oh dear.” Prudence gracefully dropped into a bronze-colored wing chair with lion-pawed feet. “I don’t think you should let The Killdaren know about this.”

  She referred to Sean. Though not titled, Sean’s presence left an impression that Mister didn’t cover.

  Cassie furrowed her brow. “Why do you think Andrie working will disturb Sean?”

  Prudence sighed. “I’ve fought to work a number of times over the years, and Sean refuses to have it. He has the means to provide everything Rebecca and I could ever possibly need, and he doesn’t see the point.”

  “What?” Cassie asked, her shoulders straightening like a soldier’s.

  “I thought that is why you resigned from your newspaper column.” Prudence delicately poured tea for us all, her deportment enviable.

  “No…I.” Cassie frowned. “Since I was no longer living in Oxford, I thought it best.”

  Having spoken to Cassie at length about the matter, I knew it was more because she’d gone against almost every word of advice she’d given over the years when she’d taken a position as a maid. She didn’t feel qualified to advise ladies on being proper. More important things had filled her life now too.

  “Then Sean didn’t ask for you to resign?” Prudence handed Cassie a cup of tea, fixed perfectly to my sister’s taste.

  Cassie sipped and sighed with appreciation. “He did ask, but…” Her voice fell lower, heavy with doubt.

  “Honestly, Cassie.” Gemini rolled her eyes. “Ladies—women of wealth and influence—aren’t employed. They expend their efforts for charities to benefit those less fortunate, and to entertain acquaintances and peers in order to keep faith with the family’s reputation and increase its influence.”

  It surprised me to discover Gemini had given a great deal of thought to the responsibilities of being a titled lady. I’d ass
umed her repeated interest in titled gentlemen over others had been merely her desire for the prestige and a want for a life of frivolity and ease. Fashion and parties and such were always on the tip of her tongue. I loved her dearly, but Gemini had never taken much of life seriously. She always skimmed its surface, almost deliberately so.

  “Gemini is right,” Prudence said. “Sean is subtle, but in the end the results will be the same for you as for me. In Andrie’s case though, I fear it is another matter altogether. One a great deal more serious.”

  “How?” I asked, taking my own teacup and a scone. I’d not eaten all day and was suddenly very hungry.

  “He’ll see it as a betrayal,” Bridget said firmly as she joined Gemini on the sofa. “Though I’ve not spoken to The Killdaren often, I know how most men think. He’ll feel as if you’ve joined the enemy camp.”

  “Interesting,” I said. “The viscount said the same thing, and it’s entirely a bunch of poppycock.” I set my teacup on the table hard enough to rattle the saucer. “Lord Ashton and Mr. Drayson travel willy-nilly between here and Dragon’s Cove, as do Sir Warwick and the earl, and I haven’t heard a word about betrayal of loyalties said to any of them. Besides, the point of a woman working is one of prerogative. If it is what she chooses to do then she should be allowed to do so.”

  “Very well put, Andrie,” Cassie said. “Sean can’t really say anything about the matter.”

  I clenched my hand. The last thing I wanted was to cause any discord between Cassie and Sean, but considering the weight of her worry about the future of the child or children growing within her, we didn’t have a choice but to do something about the matter. I slipped another scone from the plate along with an orange-flavored tea cake. Prudence poured me another cup of tea.