Everlasting Enchantment (11 page)

Gareth held his arm over the goblet and watched it fill with his blood. Then he felt the tug at his soul, the call to return to the relic. His sight began to fade as he turned and glanced back at Millicent. She lay so very still now, her chest hardly rising and falling. If the duke had lied… if she died while he was trapped within the relic…

He could not leave her like this. He would not! The relic could not take him…

Millicent woke in the red bedroom once again, every muscle in her body aching. She opened her eyes. Bloody hell. They ached too. She sat up with a groan, glanced around the room, the fuzzy memory of her dinner with the duke slowly coming back to her. Someone had stripped off her golden gown, and it sat on a velvet wing chair, crimson blood still staining the skirts.

Gareth. Nell.

She crawled out of the bed, stood on shaky legs, and forced them to take her across the room. By the time she opened the door and walked into the parlor, her muscles had loosened enough to almost make her drop with relief at the sight that awaited her.

Gareth lounged on a low armless sofa, his wavy blond hair falling across his sculpted cheekbones, his sexy mouth curled in a smile as he played some sort of card game with Nell. The old woman had a pile of buttons in front of her, apparently gathered from several of the cushions in the room, and cackled as she hauled another pile of them toward her.

“Ye’ve got no luck with the cards,” chided Nell with barely stifled glee. “Let’s have another round, shall we?”

But Gareth turned his head, his brilliant blue eyes suddenly fixing on Millicent, and he did not answer. His gaze held her transfixed, for she saw so much in his eyes that she wanted to weep, or scream, or fall into his arms. No one had ever looked at her like that before. As if she were the most precious thing on earth.

Then his lids lowered, and those blue eyes darkened as his gaze roamed her body. Millicent realized she wore nothing but chemise, petticoat, and a rather loose corset. But she could not imagine donning the gold gown with his blood staining it. Besides, he had already seen her without a stitch on. She should not feel this self-conscious.

“Ach,” said Nell, turning to follow his gaze, oblivious to the tension in the room, “ye are awake. How do ye feel? Are ye hungry?”

Millicent could only nod weakly.

Nell muttered while she slowly rose and hobbled over to the sideboard, and slapped cold meat and cheese onto a silver plate. “Bloody duke and his evil schemes. If I were only a few years younger, I could have flamed the hair right off his bushy brows, I could. But the shape-shifting don’t come as easily to me anymore, ye know. My bird likes to surprise me…”

While the old woman rattled on and arranged a setting near their cards on the table, Gareth continued to watch Millicent in silence. She felt his affection and desire curl around her like a warm blanket. He had tempted her before, with his blatant sexuality and compelling charisma. But now that it had been combined with the reality of their lovemaking, Millicent did not know how she would manage to stay in such close quarters with him and keep her composure.

The beast lurking inside her made it even more difficult. The urge to claim him as her mate again made shivers run through her.

She gritted her teeth and sat on a pile of cushions in front of the low table. Her stomach growled, and she began to eat the feast Nell had prepared. Thankfully, the food managed to soothe her cat.

“You are well, my lady?” murmured Gareth.

He had abandoned Nell on the sofa, and settled himself on a cushion next to her. She had been acutely aware of his every move, while trying to pretend otherwise. Again, she could only nod.

“It’s cold,” said Nell, lowering her old bones onto the sofa with a pop and crackle. “The dinner, that is. The vamp brought it just before Gareth came forth from the relic. She brought some more gowns, as well, but nothing that would fit me. She seemed in an awful hurry to avoid ye, Sir Knight. Per’aps she’s afraid she won’t be able to resist ye?”

Millicent
felt
Gareth shrug. Bloody hell, she could feel his
body
heat
next to her, smell the clean scent of his skin. She could not blame Selena. The man was simply irresistible.

“See what we found, Millie? A faro box! How abouts another game while she eats, Gareth?” Nell rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

“Of course, my lady. Whatever you wish.”

Millicent kept her head lowered, her eyes on her plate, trying to hide another surge of emotion that went through her. Gareth treated Nell so gently. So kindly. As if she were a queen, and not an old woman dressed in rags who had spent most of her existence being disdained by those around her. He made Millicent feel… unworthy, somehow, all that goodness and honor such a contrast to her own inner darkness. No wonder she could not release him from the spell. A love like hers held little consequence in the grand scheme of his world.

Bloody hell. Did she truly love him? She cared for him as much as she cared for Nell, although in an entirely different way. Was that love? She had no experience with this new feeling, and abruptly decided it would not matter anyhow. He would not remain in her life for much longer.

Millicent wiped her mouth on an embroidered napkin and watched as Nell took the next card out of the faro box.

“Right again,” she crowed.

Gareth smiled, looking not the least bit perturbed by his shrinking pile of buttons. “I shall have to tear apart a few more cushions, methinks.”

Millicent blinked. Every now and then, he would use an antiquated word that reminded her of his true heritage. She must seem like a child to him at times. She stood, suddenly anxious to go through the pile of clothing that lay draped across one of the numerous couches. The duke had provided them with several gowns of sturdy cotton, none as fine as the golden velvet, but all of them quite serviceable.

Such generosity. How long was the duke planning to keep them imprisoned?

Millicent picked up two gowns and held them over her chest like a shield. “We must escape soon. If he finds out the truth, he will only think of new ways to coerce you to do his bidding.”

Nell seemed entirely intent on her card play—the inveterate gambler—but Gareth had not stopped watching Millicent. She felt his gaze upon her as a constant caress. And he knew exactly whom she referred to. “The duke has tripled the guards around the castle perimeter. And I imagine Selena has orders not to open that door during the time I am released from the relic.”

Millicent tried to keep the jealousy out of her voice. “Because she cannot resist you?”

He shrugged. “That may be a part of it. The duke may fear she will succumb to her madness for me once again. But I also believe he fears my sword as well. Nell said the were-bat had over a dozen guards at her back.”

“He’s not taking any chances that we shall escape again.”

“Indeed. But what worries me the most is the blood he took from me. I have thought long on it, and cannot fathom a reason for it.”

“No doubt he is performing evil experiments with it,” interjected Nell, not as unconcerned with their conversation as Millicent had thought. “Ye know we can’t leave until we find out what he intends to do with it.”

Millicent exchanged a look of surprise with Gareth.

“She’s right,” he said. “Besides, in order to escape we need a diversion, and I imagine we will have it in due time.”

Millicent frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nell turned her attention to dealing the cards, while Millicent began to pace. Unlike Gareth, she had not been trapped in a relic for centuries, and was not used to imprisonment. The thought of being trapped in this room for an indeterminate amount of time made her skittish.

Gareth watched her, which made her even more…
skittish
. “The lion that pursued your coach and found us in the underground forest is a spy for the Master of the Hall of Mages, is he not?”

“Yes—how did you know?”

“The royals have been tracking my relic for years, and their baronets do not give up so easily. They will find the duke’s underground lair, and when they do, we shall take advantage of the diversion they offer. I have made good use of them often enough in the past.”

He seemed to take for granted that he could outwit the spies, who were certainly a fearsome group of predators. His blue eyes turned to flinty ice, and Millicent suppressed a shudder. She had never feared the knight, despite his obvious prowess with a blade, but now she wondered if she should.

“Nay, Millicent,” he soothed, “you need never fear me.”

She tossed her chin, ready to deny that quick flash of fear, but Nell quickly spoke up. “So we may as well get used to our prison fer a time. Wot say we switch to a game of Commerce, Sir Knight?”

“Whatever you desire, my lady.” But he had not removed his gaze from Millicent, and his voice lowered, as if he spoke the words to her but with an entirely different meaning.

Millicent sucked in a breath, fighting the tingle of excitement that suddenly raced through her chest, and fled into the bedroom, putting on a gown as if she donned a suit of armor. She sat on the bed a moment, considered hiding in the bedroom. But the satin sheets kept reminding her… and she could hear his laughter just beyond the door… and her beast kept whining to be near him…

Millicent searched the wardrobe, and with a sigh of relief, found a sewing basket and returned to the main room with it, along with a second gown she had chosen. If she could not keep away from him, or keep her cat’s thoughts off him, at least she might manage to keep her hands occupied.

She sewed badly, but had learned it out of necessity. It would be a perfect distraction.

Millicent held out the gown to Nell. “I… I thought this might do for you. With a little adjustment, that is.”

The old woman glanced up, and those violet eyes grew suspiciously shiny. Nell knew how much Millicent hated to sew.

“Ach! That’s too fine fer the likes of me.”

“I disagree,” said Gareth. “The gown is not fine enough for
you
, but I suppose we shall have to make do.”

Nell cleared her throat. “Ye are a smooth one, aren’t ye?”

“I speak the truth.”

Millicent had thought only to keep busy, but the look on Nell’s face made her anxious to start the task. “Come, Nell, let’s put it on, and I shall see how much I need to alter it.”

Nell would be able to do without a corset, but Millicent decided to alter a chemise for her as well as a petticoat. The old woman had never complained about clothing. But Nell never complained about anything Millicent provided for her. She should have known that, as a woman, Nell would enjoy a new wardrobe, and the duke owed them that much, at least.

They returned to the withdrawing room, Nell’s face wrinkled in smiles. Millicent settled herself in an odd chair with a cup-shaped round cushion, and found it surprisingly comfortable. For the next few hours, Gareth and Nell played cards while Millicent sewed and pretended not to notice the knight’s every move. Every glance. Every consideration.

He found several lanterns and lit them next to her, so she would have more light to sew by. He won enough hands of cards so Nell felt she had earned her winnings when he lost to her the majority of the time. He told stories of a long-ago time of chivalry and jousting, of secret loves and strange magics.

He rarely took his eyes off Millicent, and found excuses to touch her for no reason. He brought her wine and sweetmeats from the sideboard—and insisted on tasting the wine first, although Millicent did not think the duke had plans of poisoning her again. Gareth exuded enough sensuality with his every action that she had a difficult time keeping her eyes off him.

She noticed his strong hands moved with gentle grace, his blond hair held shades of red, gold, and white, and his pale eyes darkened to a smoky blue in the lamplight. The muscles in his thighs and shoulders rippled exquisitely every time he moved. And when he smiled at her or Nell, it now reached his eyes.

Millicent’s beast had retreated into a small corner of her being. This growing desire for Gareth was entirely from the human side of her nature.

“Blast,” Millicent muttered for the fifth time. She stuck her finger in her mouth and sucked off the drop of blood.

“Yer finger’s not a pincushion,” said Nell.

The room grew very quiet until Millicent could hear the soft ticking of the coal burning in the fireplace, the far-off sound of falling water outside the window, an occasional shout from one of the guards far below. She felt both of them study her intently. She refused to look up, for she might meet his gaze, and he would surely know her thoughts.

“Ye ain’t got much time before ye’re sucked back in the relic again,” said Nell to Gareth. She yawned rather dramatically, and quite loudly. “This old woman needs her rest, and I sure can’t get it with the two of ye in the room.”

Millicent flushed. Apparently Nell wasn’t as oblivious to the tension in the room as she pretended.

Gareth rose so quickly he scattered buttons on the floor. He held his strong hand out to her, and Millicent found her fingers gently encased in his before she could even think of the embarrassment she felt, or the utter relief of finally having the opportunity to be alone with him.

She threw Nell a look, and the cheeky old woman winked at her.

Gareth led Millicent into the bedroom, closed the door firmly behind her, and trapped her against the back, his hands placed flat on the oak, his forearms just above her shoulders. His mouth swooped down on hers, and she absorbed the shock, the welcome, heady relief of his lips against hers, his taste filling her mouth.

Her beast stirred, threatened to wake.

Millicent surprised herself by pushing her cat into the very recesses of her being. For the first time that she could remember, she wanted none of her animal instincts to overwhelm her. She wanted Gareth to make love to her without interference from the dominant nature of her beast.

Her knight pulled his lips from hers and stared into her eyes. “You will allow me to make love to you?”

She blinked in surprise at his shrewdness. “Yes.”

He spun her around, nimbly unbuttoning her bodice while he kissed the back of her neck, sending shivers through her. Millicent turned her head and pressed her cheek against the cool surface of the door while he removed her gown, unlaced her corset strings, untied her petticoats. As he removed the rest of her clothing, he kissed the skin it revealed, the contrast of his warm mouth against the chill air heightening her senses until her concentration narrowed to one extraordinary thing.