In Rapture (Destined)

by Daye, Elissa

  Malinda heard the sound of footsteps climbing the staircase and stood to face the intruder. She was surprised to see Grant’s face peering over the stairwell. She wished she could blend into the background, for she was not prepared to see him right now.

  “Malinda?”

  “Yes?”

  “Gertie told me I might find you up here. We need to talk.”

  She let his words fall between them as she stared uncomfortably down at her feet. “Fine. Talk.” She turned around toward the rocking chair and willed the images of a gentle, loving man to leave her mind. She did not need to even dwell on the possibility that Grant could still be that man, for that was a frightening thought. That was the kind of man that she could lose her heart to forever, something she had promised that she would never do. It was a much better idea for him to keep her at arm’s length, for it was certainly a lot safer for her.

  “Malinda.” Grant had crossed the attic almost effortlessly and grabbed her arm to face him.

  “I said talk. I’m listening; I just have to sort through some things for Sophia’s nursery.” She wrapped her other hand around his and pried his fingers away. She looked up at him and was surprised to find amusement rather than anger, and that was entirely unexpected. Malinda had no idea how to react to it.

  “You’re not afraid of me.”

  She smirked at him. “I’m sorry. Was I supposed to be? I know. Why don’t you go back down the stairs and try again.” She could not help the sarcasm that entered her voice. While the vision she had seen earlier showed a gentle man, this one was completely dangerous. The heat of his nearness sent uncomfortable waves up and down her neck.

  Malinda felt his hand move to cup her face, and the time and space before them seemed to shift completely away. She looked into his eyes and saw a heat burning just below the surface. She waited, almost breathless, for the kiss she knew was just a moment away from her. She closed her eyes as his mouth touched hers. The pulse in her neck gathered momentum and its dull pounding turned to a rapid roar that flew up to her ears. She felt every part of her drawing closer to him and she was reminded once more of the phantom lover in her dreams. Malinda let her hand travel up to his chest and was soon grasping his shirt between her fingers as his own hands splayed against her back. Her soft murmur fell against his lips and she did her best to pull away from his embrace.

  “I thought you said you wanted to talk.”

  “We are. Don’t you feel the way our bodies speak to each other, Malinda?”

  She felt her nerves fraying like the edge of a rope and she desperately desired a safe distance between them. “I can’t do this right now, Grant. I really need to get some things down to the nursery for Sophia.”

  He looked at her with hunger, but he held himself at bay. He seemed to know that pushing too far with her at the moment would make her take flight. “What do you need brought down? Perhaps I can help you get started with that?”

  “Well, the only thing I have found so far is this chair.” She ran a finger against the arms of the rocking chair, almost wishing to see the gentle man from her vision, but was only disappointed when it did not appear.

  When he did not answer her she looked up to see that the desire that had lived in his eyes just moments before had fled. Malinda saw his eyes rest on the rocking chair for a moment and it was as if the life had been sucked out of him. She could not understand what had just happened to him. She ached to reach out to him, to comfort the soul of the tortured man before her.

  “That stays here.” Grant’s gaze burned holes into the chair with a heat that could have incinerated it on the spot.

  “No. This will go downstairs. That doesn’t make any sense.” She gathered whatever courage she had and faced him with, her chin jutting out. Perhaps it was the recent surge of emotions that made her feel she should push forward, maybe it was the vision that still lingered in her mind; whatever it was gave her courage to proceed. Somewhere deep inside her she knew that Grant should not fear the memory of his past.

  “Excuse me?” Grant looked down at her, the steel in his voice mirrored in his eyes. He seemed taken aback by her direct nature.

  “Sophia needs a chair for her room. Have you seen her nursery lately?”

  “If you need a chair I will get you another, but this one stays here.”

  “Why, Grant? This chair is perfectly acceptable and it’s already here.” When she saw the anger flash across his face she backed down. “I’m sorry. If you wish for this chair to not be used, I will respect those wishes. Anything else?”

  He turned away from her and started to move toward the stairs. Malinda followed swiftly after him, a breathless fear entering her. “Grant?”

  “We will talk later, Malinda.”

  Malinda saw the way Grant fidgeted before her, and while she could not tell what he thought, she could sense his need to leave. She felt the energy in the room between them, almost like a dark cloud had covered all the sun in the skies. It was true his past was embittered, it was easy to read it on his face, but she wished he would try to deal with his past rather than push it aside. She watched him leave the attic with a sense of emptiness.

  The finality of his statement echoed in her head. Talk. They were going to talk. Why did it feel like she was heading to a death sentence then, if they were just going to talk? She tried to get a grasp on the situation, but the only thing she knew was that Grant used to be a happy, loving man and that any connection to that past seemed to make him uncomfortable. Perhaps he was no longer comfortable with the idea of love. That was no obstacle for them. In fact, that suited Malinda just fine. She never intended to fall in love with any man. Malinda would not lose everything she had as easily as her mother had. The Adrianic magic of her heritage was a gift, but it was also like a curse. If she did not guard her emotions well she could end up mindless and alone. Her mother was proof of that. While Malinda should have been angry with her mother for not caring enough for her child to snap out of the darkness that had surrounded her, she had never been able to feel that anger. How did you miss what you never knew? She had lived a good life with her grandparents. They had given her everything she could ever have hoped for. Now Malinda hoped she could do the same for Sophia, but she had to realize at some point that the picture she painted in her head would have to include Grant. She would just have to figure out how to safely paint him into her world.

  Chapter 13

  Grant stifled a curse as his feet hit the bottom of the stairs. Some memories were best left forgotten, which was why some things had been stored in the attic. He should have just gotten rid of them instead of saving them up for another day. It had been at least two years since he had last seen that chair. He remembered when he purchased the rocking chair for Maria. He had commissioned one of the craftsmen from Winterglen to create the dark mahogany chair. It had leaves and flowers carved into the headrest and the arms, which he requested, for Maria had loved the outdoors. She would sit for hours in that chair looking wistfully through the window to the world outside Wickford Manor. When the last months of her pregnancy kept her in confinement she had almost felt trapped within her body. Her eyes would mist over and a desperate sadness had welled deep within her. Grant had hated keeping her inside, but he had known that the safety of the mother and the child had depended on it.

  When Sophia was born Maria refused to sit in the chair. She did not want any reminder of being trapped inside the manor, and she showed great resentment toward Sophia for it even after she was born. She refused to feed her child, refused to comfort her, refused to even acknowledge her. It was a sickness that had grown deep within her, and when the hungry cries carried across the walls of the manor Grant had no choice but to hire a wet nurse for his child. Maria had barely looked at Sophia and it had wounded Grant deeply, for Sophia was the most beautiful light Grant had ever seen. He had hoped that Maria would come around, that she would show some sort of remorse for the way she neglected the needs of their child, but when he had confront
ed her on her behavior she had flared up at him, blaming him for her melancholy.

  Perhaps Maria had been right. If he had not married her and gotten her with child she would still be the carefree beautiful woman that Grant had fallen in love with. At the time he had refused to let those thoughts haunt him, for she should have known that he would require an heir to Wickford. He turned his back on her at the height of her tirade and she had flown at him with her nails slicing into his skin. He had turned around and slapped her in the face, his one attempt at bringing some kind of reality back into her head. Maria had escaped out the door, and her body had raced across the grounds of Wickford Manor. She had been so distracted by her emotions that she had not seen Seamus coming.

  Maria had barely been able to make her way back to Wickford. She had stumbled in a weary, bloody haze as she fought her way back to the place that she had wanted nothing more than to escape. Grant had watched helplessly when the women cleaned her up and tucked her into bed. He had seen the large bite marks on her arm and had known what they meant right away. Everyone had known. His world, her world, the whole world had gone black except for one small bright light that struggled to gain the attention of the ones who should have loved her from the beginning. He had found solace in the small tiny life. He remembered sitting in the chair that faced the window, the little child swaddled safely in his arms. Her eyes had looked up at him so serenely.

  Grant remembered the guilt that entered his heart when they had lost Maria completely. Sophia had deserved a mother, someone who was intact, someone who cherished her as much as he longed to, but had been afraid to do. If he had not confined Maria perhaps this would never have happened. As his child grew he spent even less time with her. He had ruined her mother. He did not want to ruin her life too. Grant had hired different women to take care of her needs and started off on his journey of vengeance, sometimes hoping he would not return home at all. Death evaded him and even he knew in the end that his life would not be forfeit, that somewhere along the line he might be redeemed. In the back of his head he must have known he could have done nothing to change what happened to Maria. Bradford Marcus had brought home a woman who would suit as the perfect mother for Sophia, but he had also done much more than that. The matchmaker had brought home the only woman that seemed to have sparked the fires within him since the moment he had lost Maria.

  It was attraction, plain and simple. His desire for her was more of a safety net, a much easier path to travel than loving her ever would be. He would have her soon and then he would have her again. Grant would devour every inch of her and melt within her embrace. It had been too long since he had felt the touch of a woman, and now that he was married to one as desirable as Malinda there was no reason why he should not have her. He remembered the taut body beneath the gown with its delectable layers that showed more than any proper gown should have. Malinda was all prim and proper on the outside, but underneath it all he felt a rawness that appealed to the emptiness within him. She belonged to him and he would lay claim to her soon, but for now he had another mission…Sophia.

  Grant made his way to the nursery and was shocked to find that everything Malinda had told him was accurate. The only thing in the room was a chair facing a wall. This was never what he had intended for Sophia. He had thought that providing distance would help keep her safe from the darkness that crowded his heart, but all he could see was a room with four walls that were tainted with anger and melancholy. Walls that felt hauntingly familiar, like the absence of life that defined Maria. He left the room swiftly, slamming the door behind him in his wake.

  He went in search of Desiree, hoping to glean more information about his daughter. When he entered the parlor room he was glad to see that Desiree was playing with Sophia in the middle of the room. She was crooning a sweet song to her as she braided her hair. Sophia had a small book in her hands and was fascinated with the pictures that covered the pages. They both looked up at him when they heard him clear his throat.

  “Good afternoon.” He really did not know what else to say to them. How should he greet his child? He looked closer at the petite child, and a soft smile lit up his face. She looked like a little angel sitting so still and patient.

  “Good afternoon, Lord Timberlin. We were just spending some time getting acquainted here.” The maid did not know whether to stand and greet her lord, or stay seated on the floor.

  Grant could sense the nervousness in her voice. He put a hand up to stop her from rising and smiled at her. “No need to explain, Desiree. I am sure you are fulfilling all expectations. I do have a few things to request.”

  Worry furrowed Desiree’s brow as she looked up at him. “Yes, my lord?”

  “I want Sophia moved to the east wing immediately. The yellow suite would be more fitting at the end of the hall from the master suite. My wife and I will be adding more appropriate furnishings as soon as we are able. Since it is a suite, there is plenty of space for you, as well.” The more Grant thought about it, the more it made sense. He had never understood why Maria had requested for the nursery be so far away from them. It had not made sense then, and it certainly did not make sense now.

  “That is a wise decision, Lord Timberlin. Poor mite has been having the worst night terrors lately. I think the extra company would make her comfortable.”

  “Night terrors?”

  “Sophia wakes up screaming almost every night, my lord. She’s never said a word, but we know something is terrifying her.”

  Grant looked down at the darkened eyes of his child. She understood everything around her very well, for when Desiree had started to talk about the night terrors the child had almost cringed immediately, and the angel sitting before him was suddenly occupied with a great sadness. He crouched down low to the floor and reached out to touch her cheek. “My poor angel. I promise things will be different now. We will vanquish this darkness yet.”

  Grant stood up and looked back to the maid. “Please take care of her room situation at once. I think it’s time that Sophia and I spent some time together.”

  “Right away, Lord Timberlin.”

  Grant did not miss the smile that grew slowly across the maid’s face, nor the flash of fear that flew across Sophia’s face. He did not let it dissuade him from the path he’d started to pave. He sat down on the floor next to her and reached for the book. “Hmm. What do you have here, Sophia? Would you like me to read this to you?” He did not expect her to reach out to him, for he knew that would take time and patience, but when the child crawled into his lap and tapped the book with her finger, his heart melted. He spent the next few hours reading anything and everything to the quietly inquisitive child.

  Chapter 14

  Malinda spent a good part of the afternoon sorting through the attic, trying to find things that were suitable for Sophia’s nursery. When Desiree climbed up the stairs to interrupt her Malinda could tell that something was amiss. “Is something wrong, Desiree?”

  “My lady, Lord Timberlin sent me to see to Sophia’s things.”

  “Where is Sophia?”

  “With her father, my lady.”

  “I see.” But she really did not see. She should be happy that Grant was spending time with Sophia, but part of her was on apprehensive. He seemed rough around the edges, and a fearful child could easily be scared by such a gruff nature. “I should go check on them.”

  “My lady?”

  As Malinda was already making her way around the boxes, she turned toward Desiree. “What is it, Desiree?”

  “She is doing quite fine with her father right now. No need to worry.”

  Malinda’s eyebrows rose in consternation. How did she know what her intentions were? Malinda let out a long sigh and closed her eyes. “Am I that readable?”

  “Anyone that has had a chance to know you knows you love that child, my lady. Of course you would be wary of her getting hurt. But think on this; Lord Timberlin has been greatly hurt too.”

  Malinda suddenly felt deflated. She t
urned back to the boxes behind her and started to pull more things out. “Very well, Desiree. Help me sort through these things while you tell me all about my dear husband.”

  “I don’t think that is wise, my lady.” Desiree came closer and started to work through the boxes.

  “Nothing usually is, dear girl, but if I am to understand my husband then someone should fill me in on why he is so hard to understand.”

  When Desiree started to open her mouth a draft of cold air shot through the attic. “I dare not.”

  An icy chill crept up her spine as Malinda looked around her. She realized that they were no longer alone. She might not have been able to see the ghost around them, but she could definitely feel her. Maria Timberlin, the first beloved wife. She could feel the icy rage that engrossed the departed spirit. Its dark tendrils reached out to squeeze the air from their lungs as fear eroded the peace they had felt just moments before.

  “Desiree, please take these two boxes down to the nursery.”

  “And you, my lady?” The maid’s blond head searched from left to right for the source of the draft.

  “Oh, I find I have much more to do up here at the moment. I’ll be down later, my dear.” Malinda smiled softly and held her shoulders upright. She was not afraid of Maria, the memory or the ghost.

  “But, Lady Timberlin, you might want to come down now.” It was clear that Desiree knew very well what was happening in the attic, for the unspoken fear loomed in her troubled eyes.

  “Let me be clear, Desiree. I am not leaving this room, not until I am ready to leave. Nothing, or should I say no one, will make me leave. Please do as I say and trust that I will be just fine. I don’t spook easily.”