Netherby Halls (22 page)

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Authors: Claudy Conn

Tags: #regency romance, #steamy, #paranormal historical

BOOK: Netherby Halls
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The sound of a lone rider’s clopping over the hard
earth brought her head up. An odd-looking man rode towards them on
a dark roan. He was bearded and wore his old, weathered
tri-cornered hat at an angle. Sassy stared at him, for it hit her,
that feeling of having seen him somewhere. She shrugged it off;
perhaps it was just his style—could be someone from the docks of
Bristol.

The marquis’s eyes flickered from her to the man when
the rider nodded as he passed them. “Are you acquainted with that
particular gentleman?” he asked with an accompanying frown.

“Why do you ask?” Sassy answered, still mulling the
problem over in her mind.

“The way you stared at him. I thought you were
looking at someone you knew.”

“Nooo,” said Sassy evasively. “Yet … I seem to
recall—” She stopped herself at once as dawning lit in her brain.
She knew where she had seen the stranger before.

She saw that the marquis was waiting for her to
finish her sentence, and she had a sudden urge to confide in him.
She wanted to tell him what she had witnessed at Netherby late the
other night. She wanted to tell him that the headmistress had
received this man and two others in secret, but … could she
trust him?

Her fear that she could not trust him kept her
reticent, so she said, “I-I don’t know him but, he looked
familiar … nothing more.”

The marquis’s blue eyes flickered, and his lips moved
into a hard line. “I see.”

The school was reached moments afterward, and Sassy
wondered if the bearded man had been visiting the headmistress in
broad daylight. The marquis nimbly jumped to the ground, assisted
her to do the same, and carried her portmanteau as he walked her to
the school doors, seeing her in before he bowed and took his
leave.

“Good day to you, Sassy. Perhaps
this
time you
have averted a scandal—you may not be so lucky again. Are we
clear?”

“You are not my father,” she said, chafed that he
would not let it go.

“No, I am not. Fortunately that is not the position I
mean to have in your life.” So saying, he turned his back and was
off.

She went to the window near the front door and
watched him turn his phaeton and leave with a long sigh.

What did he mean? What position did he mean to have
in her life? No doubt he still wanted to seduce her to his bed and
make her his mistress. The sorry fact was, at that moment, she
wanted him so badly she was nearly ready to settle for that—nearly,
but not quite. As a plan began to formulate in her mind, she smiled
to herself and hurried up the staircase.

 

 

 

~
Eighteen ~

 

THE MARQUIS STOOD frowning a moment before he pulled
himself up to his seat and took up the reins. Once there, he
noticed that Sassy’s yellow scarf must have fallen and gotten
wedged into the seat.

He picked it up and before he could stop himself
brushed it past his lips, closing his eyes with the intoxicating
scent—her scent, particular to her and infused with her own brand
of magic.

Placing it carefully inside the inner pocket of his
greatcoat, he made the decision that he would revisit the school
and Sassy soon, very soon.

Making his way back to his lodgings, his mind
collected his facts, his feelings, and his sixth sense that,
because of his magic, could never be denied. He put them in their
proper places and knew just what he was going to do. His plan was
laid out before him and gave him a moment’s pleasure—interrupted by
the notion that Sassy had recognized Tom Wheeler!

Perhaps not at first, but he had seen the look of
recognition come over her face. Yet, she had deliberately lied—as
all females did in the end, always for their own reason.

Perhaps, perhaps ’twas because she felt she still
could not trust him enough to tell him how she knew such a
blackguard? She did not trust him, and this galled, because he
believed she trusted Dr. Bankes, whom he despised.

He felt his heart had become dislodged from its
granite walls—
for her
. He knew this, and he knew she was the
only woman on earth for him, but he wasn’t sure he had a heart to
give. Trust was something he couldn’t hand over easily. Trust was
something even more important than what he felt. Could he trust
her?

He was sure that first encounter in Sutton, where
they shared that first hallucination, had been her magic. At one
and twenty, she was no doubt going through transition; somehow her
magic had connected with his and made her dream of him. But now he
wanted
her
to want him, not just her magic. He wanted the
human in her to want the human in him, just as his human wanted her
beyond measure.

She was unlike any other, and he adored her, but at
the moment he had another problem. He had to get to Percy and make
certain his friend had not become embroiled in a situation that
might hinder his carefully laid out plans! He didn’t wish to use
magic any more than he had to—the damnation of it was that, while
useful, it was addicting. He had always to maintain control lest it
control him.

* * *

Percy was, in fact, not acting with any observable
logic. Sophy’s curricle stood once again in front of his lodgings,
and logic—indeed, a regard for his beloved’s reputation—should have
taken him off with her posthaste, but they remained still in wild
discourse with each other, heedless of all else.

“But I do … I do love you, Percy. I never meant
to marry Grey—please believe me, Percy,” Sophy cried, whining and
using her lovely eyes to plead with him.

“Then why did you say you would?” the stoic young man
demanded.

“To … well, to stop you from killing him,” she
answered unwisely.

“Why try to save him, if you didn’t care for
him?”

“Oh you are a dunce!” She stomped her foot. “Stop
being so hard-hearted, you odious boy. I didn’t want you to go to
prison or flee the country. That would have made me wretched.
Do you want me wretched?”

He took her into his arms and said desperately, “No!
No. I only want you for all time.”

She put her head against his chest and twisted the
lapel of his buff-colored waistcoat. “Oh Percy, I do love you.”

“Then say you will be my wife! Say it, Sophia.
Without such a promise I cannot remain here. I am flesh and blood,
and my heart beats only for you, but it needs nourishment, and
you—
you give me nothing!

“But, Percy, I want to give you everything,” the lady
wailed.

“Then say it!”

“Yes, Percy, my love, I want to be your wife.”

“And so you shall be,” Percy said with some
determination as he took her passionately into his arms and burned
her hungry lips with his own.

At length she said, “oh, darling, but what will Mama
say?”

“What can she say?” the gallant replied with a
nervous laugh.

“A great deal I am afraid.” Sophy sighed.

He groaned, but as he was determined in his resolve,
he bade her wait while he donned his outer garments. Then he gave
her his arm, and they made their way to the waiting curricle just
as the marquis arrived.

“Good God, Percy—why are you still here? This will
never do,” the marquis said with a shake of his head.

“Wish me happy, Justin. We are to be married,” Percy
replied, feeling all was nearly right with his world.

The marquis slapped him on the back and wished him
well before telling him to hurry along. “Don’t take no from Mrs.
Delleson. In fact, I rather think Mr. Delleson might step in on
this one. He likes you a great deal.”

“Yes, yes,” said Sophy. “We shall apply to Papa
without Mama even being aware.”

The marquis watched them drive off and turned to see
the butler in the hallway watching with avid interest. Servants
talked to other servants; within a very short span of time, the
world would be talking.

The marquis whispered an incantation and saw the
butler’s face go blank. He walked inside and to be certain asked,
“Tell me, where is Mr. Lutterel, my man?”

“I think in the study, my lord,” the butler answered
vaguely.

“Thank you,” the marquis said with a short smile.

* * *

Hiding in her room, Sassy tried to sort out her
thoughts and put them in logical order. The trouble with that was
her heart. Her emotions were at a high. What had he said to her?
Why did he speak in riddles? Did he care for her? It had felt as
though he truly cared for her, but if he did, why not say so?

Also, when the rider with the tri-cornered hat had
passed by, her inner magic shouted in her mind the word
evil.

Decidedly, and without a doubt, call it instinct,
call it sixth sense, call it what she knew it to be
, magic
!
Whether she wanted it to be so or not, she was a white witch, and
that white witch inside her told her the man in the seaman’s
tri-cornered hat was evil to the core. Well, then, what was he
doing with the headmistress?

She needed answers, and she started listing what she
knew.

Firstly, Delia came to mind, and the missing girl
Beth, somehow wrapped up with the missing Miss Saunders. Something
was terribly wrong, and somehow it was connected to the
headmistress and the bearded man. No doubt—she had absolutely no
doubt.

She made up her mind, and with that, she made her way
back downstairs and crossed over into the girls’ wing. Glancing
down the hall, she could see that most of the doors were closed
tight. Sassy had no notion which room was Delia’s.

She was making her way to one of the few open doors
when the sound of girls’ titters halted her. Sassy’s instincts went
into play, and she gave them full reign as she stood and
waited.

“So blubber-headed he was. I don’t think he has ever
had it before. Gawd, but he did make me laugh,” an unseen face and
unfamiliar voice remarked.

“What did you do?” asked another girl. Sassy
recognized the voice as Caroline Hughes’s.

“As he had his eyes closed, I was obliged to keep
mine open while I took care of him.” The girl’s words were
accompanied by hysterical laughter.

Sassy cleared her throat. Sassy had often giggled and
gossiped with her own friends. She had also often heard the
servants at the parsonage talking about their romantic exploits.
This, however, had a different ring to it, and a sudden fear
entered her mind. “Excuse me,” she said, one brow up, and then as
they jumped round to see her in the doorway, “Oh, did I startle
you? I am trying to locate Delia Standish.”

“Our room is at the end of the hall,” Caroline
offered as she pointed.

“Thank you,” Sassy said, starting off.

“But she isn’t there now. She went out with the
headmistress about an hour ago,” Caroline said in an odd voice.

Sassy thanked her and quietly withdrew. Something
horrible was going on at Netherby. She had to find out exactly
what. She went to her room, grabbed her cloak, and hurried back
down the staircase and out for a walk.

She reached the rill that wound its way through the
wooded walking path and listened to the water making its way over
the rocks. What should she do? What proof did she have to go to
anyone with her suspicions? None. She rubbed her hands together
against the cold, as she had forgotten to wear her gloves.

Her ring—should she call on the power of her ring to
show her where the headmistress had taken Delia?

“I knew I would find you here,” said James Bankes, at
her back.

She spun around, not at all pleased to be
interrupted, and said with as much of a smile as she could muster,
“Hello, James.”

“What is it? Something is wrong, Sassy—it is all over
your face,” he said at once with an accompanying frown.

“Everything, James,” Sassy said, “but I just don’t
know where to start.” As soon as the words were out she regretted
saying anything at all.

“Here is something new—start at the end and work your
way back to the beginning.” He grinned at her as he clasped his
gloved hands at his back and fell in step beside her.

She gave him a smile and an arched look. “Don’t
belittle my troubles. They are quite genuine, I assure you.”

“Ah, I am sorry. Of course they are, but then you
must not smile so radiantly at me. If we are to be grave, then let
us be grave,” he teased.

“Seriously, James, there is something very wrong, but
you are friendly with the headmistress, and it wouldn’t be fair to
embroil you in this,” Sassy said as it occurred to her that perhaps
she should not trust him. He was sweet, he was pleasant, and he was
kind. And yet, her sixth sense told her to steer away from him, and
she knew her sixth sense was never, ever wrong.

“Tell me what you think you can,” he urged
gently.

“Very well, I shall tell you this in the hopes that
there might be an explanation that will set my mind at ease.”

“Yes?”

“The headmistress has had visitors at a very odd
hour, and those visitors … don’t look respectable and
certainly should not be allowed on school grounds. I know I sound
like a prig, but …”

He laughed, and the sound set her on edge. Something
was off here. He should have been shocked. When she arched another
look at him, he put his hands up and backed off slightly. “Well,
really, Sassy, you make it sound
very clandestine
.”

“And so it was. James, it was two in the morning, and
she is the headmistress of a school for orphaned girls with gentry
as family. What if one of them happened to be up, on her way to the
kitchen or playing some prank as young people do, and they
witnessed these men visiting the headmistress? Not only was it a
very odd hour to receive visitors, but these, as I said, were not
respectable in appearance.”

Dr. Bankes no longer smiled. “I see,” he said.

“You don’t seem shocked,” she said, eyeing him
curiously. He was going to offer her an explanation. Her magic
whispered,
Careful
, over and over again.

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