Always (2 page)

“
That’s different. Tomorrow is like a holiday. But we are all drawn to this place. It’s like Kiera put a spell on us. After you’re a Letrell, Blakesly House calls to you.”

“
Or maybe it’s just the people in it.”

“
Maybe you’re right.” She finished my hair and pushed herself up gracefully. “Marcus always wants to return here, more so than me. I guess that’s just the bond he has with his brothers.” She paused in thought. “Pancakes or eggs?”

“
Pancakes.” My stomach rumbled at the thought. “Where did you meet Marcus?” She paused in her swift, sure motions.

“
You always ask me that,” she accused with a smile.

“
And you always say you’ll have to tell me about it someday. You are leaving soon.”

“
Hmm.” Ingredients appeared to fly around her. “Okay, where do I start?” I sat silent, waiting to hear her story. This was the first time that she seemed ready to tell me. “I guess the beginning is as good a place as any.” She plopped a full plate of pancakes in front of me. “Eat,” she ordered, “then we’ll go to the house.” Claudia sipped her coffee.

“
Were you born in the States?” I prompted before I took a bite.

“
I was.” she smiled, “In the mid 1800’s.”

My mouth fell open. “Were there people then?”

She giggled softly. “Yes, of course. My parents went to the States before I was born.”

“
The States?”

“
Eat.” I picked my plate up and followed her to the fire. “My parents were madly in love,” she smiled broadly. “And they loved adventure so they moved to the States.”

“
They went alone?”

“
No, they went together. But they died when I was eight and I was sent to live with my only living relatives–Uncle Philip and Aunt Dora.”

Her eyes took on a faraway look. Pancakes forgotten, I scooted closer to Claudia.

“
I met Marcus just three days before I was to wed Edmund Harris.” Her smile grew.

Chapter Two

Claudia

A pool of white moonlight splashed across the otherwise dark room. Everyone else in the house had already gone to bed long ago but sleep would not come to me. At first I had tried to lay still and stare only at the darkened ceiling as I had when I was a child but it was soon apparent that it would no longer work. My thoughts wouldn’t slow down.

With a small sigh, I climbed from my bed and scurried over to the window, flinging it wide so I could feel the cool night air on my face. It was a beautiful night with just a hint of the chill that fall promised.

The moon hung high in the sky, bathing the earth in its light. I saw Uncle Philip’s garden far below me, almost completely dead this late in the year. The rose bush that Aunt Dora had insisted on having grew wildly, covering the shed with its green leaves. I smiled to myself. I could almost see them down there even now working away the hours tending the earth.

My aunt and uncle had always been kind to me since my own parents had died. They had brought me back to England from the States where my parents had made their home. At eight, there hadn’t been anything worse than having to leave my home; but now I loved it here.

And in three days I would once again have to leave my home.

My eyes went automatically to search out the nearby home of Sir Edmund Harris– my soon to be husband. I twisted the thin gold band on my finger.

I was trading my quiet country life to live with Edmund, who stayed in London half the year. Edmund was the richest man we knew; it wouldn’t have been proper for Uncle Philip to refuse him my hand. I was nearly twenty years old and although I had always told Aunt Dora I would never marry anyone, she assured me that this would be a good thing.

Not for the first time, it occurred to me that this was entirely my fault. I should have never danced with him at the Darby’s Christmas ball last year. He had vowed then that by the next ball at the Darby house, we would be married. I had laughed at his boldness then, but he turned out to be right.

Just three more days…

The sound of a wolf’s howl rang in the distance, bringing my attention back to the present. I closed my eyes and tilted my chin into the light breeze. I felt the wind tickle the curls around my ears and chin.

Soon I would have to pin my wild auburn curls close to my head like Lady Harris did. My face scrunched up at the thought of Edmund’s mother–such a disagreeable woman!

“
Oh, Claudia,” I whispered to myself, “What are you going to do?”

It is probably best to just try to go back to bed
, I thought. Tomorrow was another day–one of the last that I would spend at home–and I didn’t want to miss any of it. I sighed deeply, unable to tear myself from the window.

Out in the night there was a lonely sort of silence that did nothing for my mood. It was as if the night itself was pulling me down to its depth. I shuddered at the morbid turn my thoughts had taken. I needed to go back to bed; in the morning, things were sure to look normal again.

As I turned away from the scene below me, a flash of movement caught my eye and I leaned forward quickly, searching for whatever was down there. I craned my neck wildly, but I couldn’t see anything except the dark shadows. Just when I’d convinced myself that I had imagined the movement, a man emerged from the blackest of the shadows.

My breath caught in my throat in what could have been a gasp. He was tall with dark clothes on. It was hard to tell anything about him in the dark, but when the light passed over his eyes, they flashed red.

I jumped back so suddenly that I hit the back of my head on a nearby stand. That was definitely my imagination; no one’s eyes could be red. I sat there cowering for a few tense moments while I gathered my courage to look again.

Maybe it was our stableman Thomas. But Thomas was getting on in years. I couldn’t imagine him leaving his bed to go out into the cool night. Could it have been Edmund Harris trying to be romantic? That was even less likely than Thomas. Perhaps Uncle Philip then?

With my heart still beating wildly under my nightclothes, I inched my head up to get another look at the man. Slowly, ever so slowly, I peered over the windowsill. The man was gone!

I whipped my head around, searching as far as I could for any sign of him, but there was no one. My heart sank, confusing me. Was I disappointed that he had gone? No, but I did wonder who he was.

My hand fell upon something soft on the windowsill. There, waiting just for me, was a perfect red rose. I picked the flower up gently with trembling fingers. My eyes widened as I took in the beauty of the rose and yet, who had placed it at my window? And how had they gotten up here?

I realized suddenly that it must have been the stranger standing outside. My jaw dropped open at the thought. I stretched my head as far as I dared out the window, determined to get another look at my mystery caller.

“
I don’t think he’s out there,” a voice whispered loudly from inside my room.

I felt the blood drain from my face.
Someone was in my room!
I whirled around and a cold hand clamped over my scream.

“
Shh,” he warned.

A man stood just inches from my face, his dark blue eyes wide with a mixture of amusement and worry. His dark hair curled down by his ears with several curls falling along his furrowed forehead.

At only just over five feet myself it wasn’t difficult for someone to be taller than I was, but this man towered over me so much that he had to hunch over for our faces to be close. He smiled, revealing almost perfect teeth and two small dimples.

“
I’m going to take my hand from your mouth now. Do you promise not to scream?” he asked in a low voice.

I considered my options quickly. There was a strange man in my bedroom in the middle of the night–three days before my wedding to Edmund Harris. It was probably best for everyone if we kept this quiet. I nodded.

He smiled again and dropped his hand. “As I was saying, I think he’s gone.”

I didn’t bother looking back out the window. “Who are you?” I hissed. “And what are you doing in here? And how did you get in here?”

“
Marcus Letrell. Saving you. And through the door.” He gestured vaguely behind him to where my door was still closed.

“
That door was locked.”

“
It wasn’t locked.”

“
I locked it myself.”

“
Must not have latched it.” He crinkled his mouth into a mock frown.

“
I…” I clamped my lips shut, reconsidering arguing the least important thing. “Why are you here? Why did you come into my room?”

“
I told you already; to save you.”

“
To save me from what?”

“
From the man outside your window.”

My heart stuttered at his words. I chanced a quick peek outside but no one was there. “That man was you.”

“
No,” he shook his head, his hair bouncing off his forehead. “That wasn’t me. He’s been watching you for a few days now.”

“
He has?” My voice dropped low in my shock.

“
Don’t worry, I scared him away.” He grinned crookedly. I couldn’t be sure if he was being serious and I still couldn’t understand why Marcus had decided to come into my room.

“
You should have alerted my uncle,” I scolded.

His eyes narrowed. “That would have been measurably less enjoyable.” His eyes skidded down the length of my nightclothes. “Besides, why put your uncle in any danger?”

My face grew too warm under his eyes and I suddenly was aware of how little I had on. I was reaching for my robe but his words stopped me. “Danger? Do you suppose he intends to do me harm?”

“
I think it is safe to suppose, Miss Sinclair, that if a strange man is watching a young woman through her window his intentions are far from proper. Otherwise, he would have spoken with your uncle.”

“
And yet here you stand.”

“
I already told you, I’m here to save you,” he reminded me with an exquisite arch of his brow.

“
It is clear that the only danger now is to my reputation should anyone see you in here. Now go before I call Uncle Philip.”

“
Yes, we wouldn’t want to damage your reputation. Not with you all set to marry Edmund Harris in three days.”

“
How do you know that?”

“
Hamel is a small area Miss Sinclair. It doesn’t take someone long to discover all its secrets.”

I worked my face into a scowl, which only made Marcus laugh. “That…isn’t…”

“
Oh, come now Miss Sinclair…may I call you Miss Sinclair?”

“
No,” I snapped. “We haven’t been properly introduced. You may not call me anything.”

“
And quite right you are Miss…er...uhm…,” he fumbled around dramatically, “at any rate, you will make a fine wife of society.”

“
What a thing to say!”

“
I meant no disrespect to your beloved Miss…” He snapped his lips shut on a grin when I glared up at him.

“
You should leave now.”

“
Once again you are quite right. It’s just…” he sighed softly and let his eyes drift lazily down to my bare feet, “I’m having such a good time rescuing you.”

“
Get out!” My ears burned with the depth of my embarrassment.

His eyes widened with his smile. “All you had to do was ask.” He back stepped towards the door. “The rose was a nice touch, huh?” he asked casually.

I looked down to where I had dropped the flower earlier. A knot formed in my stomach at the thought of someone watching me. “You don’t think he’ll be back, do you?”

“
Probably not tonight; but don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on things.” He winked at me and disappeared though the door.

As soon as the door closed behind him I pressed my ear against the heavy wood. There were no sounds of his leaving. Was he still there, standing just outside my door? The thought made my heart accelerate.

Who was this strange man who just came into women’s bedrooms? Who had ever heard of such a thing? Footsteps in the hall sent me scurrying to the other side of the room.

“
Miss Claudia?” Becky, the upstairs maid, stuck her head in my door. “Are you alright, Miss? I thought I heard voices,” she said groggily.

“
I just had a bad dream Becky,” I told her. “Go back to bed.”

“
Are you sure you don’t need anything, Miss?”

“
I’m fine,” I lied.

“
Maybe you shouldn’t drink milk, Miss.”

“
What?”

“
Cook says that milk before bed is sure to give you bad dreams.”

“
Thank you Becky, goodnight.”

I listened to the familiar soft squeaks of the old stairs as Becky returned to her own room. Bad dreams? Maybe it had just been a bad dream.

I bent low to the ground and retrieved the rose. I held it away from me, watching the moon light make strange shapes on the petals.

I flung the flower away from me and turned back to the window for one last look out into the dark night. With a shiver, I pulled it closed and locked it up tight, then I slipped back into bed.