Everlasting Enchantment (18 page)

When the coachman nodded and closed the door, she slumped in relief. As she had hoped, she did not need an address for such lofty personages. Lady Roseus had an excellent coachman… who would no doubt inform his mistress of their destination as soon as they returned. Millicent looked out the window as the carriage jolted forward. Her hostess still stood on the steps of her elegant town home, waving frantically. Millicent sighed. The lady gathered her skirts, as if she would run the carriage down unless Millicent acknowledged her farewell. Millicent finally waved back. Heavens, she had never met a friendlier woman. No wonder Bran had been drawn to her. As she had recently discovered, her employer possessed a gentle heart beneath his overbearing exterior.

Millicent continued to gaze out the window. She loved the rain, such an odd occurrence aboveground, but today the skies lacked any gray clouds, and brilliant sunshine bathed London. Although it hurt her eyes, she loved days like this the best. To feel warmth from something other than a fire, a gentle warmth that bathed her cheeks and hands, was something she could get used to.

The houses became grander, and more peculiar, as they drove through the affluent areas of the city. The aristocracy flaunted their magical powers with their very own homes. Imposing marble edifices snuggled up to fanciful towers of gemstone and spun sugar. Stately parks held animated statues, and fountains sparkled with liquid diamonds. Odd-shaped trees mixed with enormous oaks, while flowers of luminous color swayed next to bushes of tamed roses.

So bright and strange and beautiful. Millicent felt the sudden urge to stay aboveground forever.

She sat back against the cushions of the seat. She would never get an opportunity to do so. She belonged in the Underground, in the darkness, with the rest of the creatures of the night. Even now, she felt her beast clawing to the surface, panicked at all of the open space around her, the tall buildings and crowded streets only adding to her tension.

The carriage entered a large square, stopped in front of a mansion decorated with thousands of white peacocks. They roosted on every windowsill, abnormally long tails of delicate feathers sweeping down to the next story. Two stood silent sentry next to the door, and one enormous bird spread his feathers in a white arc on top of the home, neatly shading the entire house.

Millicent focused her attention, and the illusions faded to reveal a grand mansion of white stone and soaring columns. She frowned and relaxed her vision so the illusion could return. The home was impressive enough without the addition of the birds, and she wondered about the vagaries of the aristocracy.

When Millicent met with Claire within the elegant withdrawing room of Sothby Manor, she had her answers. Rich oak paneled the walls of the room, and the furniture had been upholstered in shades of lavender and blue. Each piece had been carved with intricate designs of cherubs and fawns and centaurs. A harp stood in one corner, the strings shivering to some muted tune, and the heavy drapes swayed to a nonexistent breeze. Just a touch of magical illusion then, but enough to give the room charm without being alarming.

“My heavens,” said Claire as she breezed into the room. “What a lovely surprise.”

“I’m sorry to call on you uninvited,” replied Millicent. “But I have come on an important errand.”

Lady Yardley froze, studied Millicent for a long moment. “What has happened? You are… changed since I last saw you.”

For just an instant, Millicent wanted to confide in Claire. Wanted to tell her about her relationship with Gareth, and her love for the magic man, and perhaps between the two of them, they could think of another way… But no, she had come for a greater purpose. Her own problems were of little consequence in comparison.

“I have something to tell you that might be difficult for you to believe. It involves the Duke of Ghoulston.”

“Willie? Why, whatever could that old goose have done to put such a look upon your face?” She held up a hand. “Wait, let me ring for tea first, and let us get comfortable. I cannot forget my duties as hostess, no matter how outrageously curious you have made me.”

Claire tugged on a bellpull, and then sat on a velvet settee, arranging her skirts around her feet, before patting the space next to her. Her blue morning gown made her hazel eyes appear a deep aqua, and her auburn hair had been dressed with miniature white peacock feathers.

At the same moment as Millicent sat down, a maid appeared in the doorway and one of the birds curled about the newel post in the hall let out a tremendous cacophony of screeches.

“I sense a theme, here,” murmured Millicent.

Claire smiled rather sheepishly. “They are beautiful creatures, but I had no idea when I created them that they would be so loud.” She turned and instructed the maid to bring tea, then looked back at Millicent with a shrug. “Father insists I practice, you see, and although Mother tells me to find a husband instead, I am determined to work on my craft. Unfortunately, my spells have a tendency to… multiply…
spontaneously
. I created the illusion of one bird, and the next thing I knew, the mansion was covered with thousands of them.” She rolled her eyes. “Father is regretting his insistence that I practice, and Mother tells him ‘I told you so’ several times a day.”

The maid brought in a silver service of tea, spread it on the table in front of them, and Lady Yardley began to pour. “Close the door on the way out, Sarah. Sugar, Lady Millicent?”

“Please.”

“Just be grateful you did not choose to visit last week,” continued Claire. “I had a passion for hummingbirds. Such charming little birds. One would
not
think a horde of them would be so alarming.” She gave a delicate shudder. “We are still removing their nests from Mother’s wigs.”

The door closed.

“But enough of my problems. What has brought you here, Millicent? The last time I saw you… oh, is that it? Have you finally succumbed to the charms of the magic man?”

Millicent nodded.

“You poor dear. I imagine it was rather… alarming.” She lowered her voice. “To discover one’s most secret desires at such a tender age… and from such a conservative background… But do not take it to heart, my dear. It is better to know oneself before marriage, at any rate. It will make the choosing of a husband much easier. Not that I know myself… err, it is what Lady Chatterly always says.”

Millicent nodded again, feeling as if her neck were made of rubber. Thank goodness she had not given in to the urge to tell Claire about Gareth. The other woman had obviously never been in love before. She would not understand.

“Dearest Millicent. I don’t mean to be insensitive to your plight, but honestly, you have me atwitter with curiosity about Willie. If you don’t share your gossip this moment, I may burst.”

“It is not merely gossip, Lady Yardley. I am afraid you must brace yourself for some unpleasant revelations.”

Claire sipped her tea, and set it back on the porcelain saucer with a clatter. “You are frightening me.”

“I mean to. What I am about to tell you will be difficult for you to believe. The Duke of Ghoulston is a man with two faces. And I don’t think you’ve seen the one I am about to tell you of. And I… I am not the person you think I am.”

A peacock screamed.

Claire jumped, skirts rustling, then gave a nervous laugh.

Millicent took a sip of her tea. Chamomile. Perfect. The mellow flavor soothed her and warmed her throat. “It all began in the Underground—”

“Oh, Millicent, please. Secret caverns created by dark sorcery beneath London are nothing but a myth used to scare naughty children.”

“Then I have lived my entire life in a myth.” Millicent set down her tea and stood, walked across the room to the window. She opened the glass-paned windows, ruffling the feathers of the peacock that perched on the ornate ledge. She caught a glimpse of tiny iridescent wings off to her left, and realized that a few of Claire’s hummingbirds must still be about. She shifted, her panther sniffing with delight at the delicious smell of the fat peacock. She leaped, grasped the neck of the bird with her jaws, cracked it with a shake, and began to gorge. Her beast growled with disgust, for the bird was just an illusion, and did not fill her belly.

Millicent shifted back to human with blood still smeared around her mouth.

She hoped she had judged Claire correctly, and the woman would not faint.

Lady Yardley’s face drained of all color as she stared at Millicent. She clasped a hand about her throat and swallowed. “Was that really necessary? I already guessed you were a shape-shifter. I even deduced you were some sort of cat.”

“Yes. But I doubt any of the shifters of your acquaintance—and they must be few, since they are generally despised by your kind—would be so impolitic as to snack on one of your illusions.”

“My kind? Why, Millicent, you wound me.”

“Perhaps. Even guessing what I am, you still befriended me. But I rather imagine your parents would not approve of me.”

“They are old-fashioned… yes, you are right. And you have made your point. I shall not interrupt you again, and I will keep my skepticism in check. Will that do?”

Millicent really liked this girl. How wonderful it would be to have her as a true friend… But she rather doubted Claire would want to continue the association once she told her story. The girl’s good character could tolerate only so much, after all. Millicent took a deep breath and rejoined Claire, but this time took a seat opposite in an ornate chair carved with gilded cherubs.

Lady Yardley did not protest. But she waved her hand at Millicent’s face, then at the bloody carcass near the window. The bloody remains disappeared, and Millicent assumed her mouth had been cleaned as well, for Claire gave a nod of satisfaction.

Millicent told her story from the beginning: how she had grown up in the Underground; how the duke had used Nell to blackmail her to find the relic for him. She left out the parts about her and Gareth, only indicating that they had developed a sort of friendship. She did not leave out the part about Nell’s death, despite how difficult she found the telling. She had to make Claire understand that the duke was a dangerous man, and had a ruthless side to him within the Underground.

By the time Millicent finished speaking, her voice had grown hoarse and she finally allowed herself a sip of tea. It had grown cold.

Claire continued to stare at her in the ensuing silence. A peacock screamed again. “Well,” she finally said. “It is obvious you believe every word of this. I would think you under a spell, except for your immunity to magic. So I must conclude that you are mad.”

Millicent blinked.

“Willie? Using black magic? Consorting with were-vampires in the Underground? I must admit, it is a little odd that the queen has suddenly developed a fondness for the Duke of Ghoulston, but as he says himself, there is no accounting for the vagaries of love.”

“It has taken effect already?” murmured Millicent.

“Oh, come now! You know perfectly well the queen’s food and drink are tested and tasted by the most gifted magicians—that the royal family themselves possess the strongest magic in all of England. Would you truly have me believe she would partake of a love potion and not know it?”

“Claire… Lady Yardley. I know how outlandish it sounds. But remember. There is no magic in the kingdom that can counter the power of Merlin himself. And that power is contained in the relic. And Gareth—the magic man, has been trapped inside of one for centuries. It is entirely feasible that his blood has become infused with the power of the relic.”

“Yes, but… oh, Millicent. Even if I believe you, who would believe
me
if I told such a tale?”

“The Master of the Hall of Mages.”

Claire rose, began to pace the floor, her slippers swishing softly against the parquet. “I have met the Duke of Sussex only briefly. He sees me as a young girl who is too flighty to even control her own magic. I’m not even sure he would grant me an audience… you cannot imagine how many difficulties of a magical nature occur in England on a daily basis. And I have no evidence of what you are saying.”

Millicent suppressed a grin of triumph. Claire had quickly gone from concluding Millicent insane to considering the possibility of presenting the story to the master. “I can help on both accounts.”

Lady Yardley paused, her gown twirling about her, a few auburn curls dangling from her coiffure tumbling about her aristocratic cheeks. Even in her agitation, she looked every inch the lady. She found Millicent’s story difficult to believe, because the concept of such evil was foreign to her. The lady radiated a goodness Millicent could never hope to achieve.

Millicent opened her reticule and pulled out the relic. The smile faded from her face as the moonstone within the bracelet caught the sunlight streaming in through the windows and reflected it within the gem, making it swirl and glow and change color. Just as Gareth’s eyes and hair had a tendency to change color in different light.

“If you bring the master this, I believe he will grant you an audience. For weeks, he has been pestering me with his spies to obtain it.”

Claire covered her mouth with her slender hand. “Oh, no. I do not want it. Give it back to Lady Chatterly.”

“It is not hers,” snapped Millicent. “He—it belongs to no one. Not yet.” She gulped a breath. She did not think this would be so difficult. But something inside her chest ached so hard she could barely think. “If anyone could break his curse, Lady Yardley, it would be you. You are goodness and light and elegance. And he must be given the chance to be free. You cannot imagine what it is like to be trapped in a cage not of your own making.”

Claire slowly reached out a hand, as if she could not resist such temptation. “Is it true he makes your every fantasy come true?”

Millicent closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Yes. That, and more. When he comes to you at midnight, he will confirm everything I have said to you. And then… after…” Her voice broke. She could not stop the low growl of her beast that followed. Panthers mated for life. She could not hand over their soul mate to another woman. She could not… “You and Gareth can go to the master, and then he will believe you. And then Ghoulston will get the punishment he deserves.”