Authors: Marissa Day
Carstairs conducted Smith in the opposite direction to his library. He found himself wishing, with uncomfortable furtiveness, he knew what Lady Jane intended to say to Alicia.
“Don’t worry,” said the captain behind him. “Lady Jane is formidable, but she is loyal, and fair.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Carstairs, a little abashed at how easy it was for his captain to read his thoughts. He let the captain precede him into the library so he could close the door behind them both.
“How does Miss Hartwell this morning?” Smith asked.
“Well, I believe.” Memory of her body under his hands, her moans and the intensity of her pleasure, swept swiftly through him. Carstairs busied himself with drawing back the drapes from the windows and French doors that overlooked the garden to let in the morning sunlight until he could set those intimate, and extraneous, thoughts aside. “She is still coming to terms with herself, now that the enchantment is broken, but she is adjusting quickly.”
“And what are your impressions of Alicia Hartwell’s self?” Smith settled himself into the armchair beside the hearth and steepled his fingers.
Carstairs had known he would face this question, but that did not make answering it any easier. He should have spent his time quizzing Alicia and learning what he could of her family and her past. Instead, he’d let himself get distracted.
“She seems both strong of mind and firm of character,” he said. “I was afraid her long enchantment would have left her wits frail, but that does not appear to be the case.”
“Interesting. But I believe you told Rathe you felt she struggled against the enchantment?”
“Yes. That was my impression, even before I was able to begin assisting her.”
“If she has fought her bonds, that may have had the effect of strengthening her mind and spirit, the way constant exercise will strengthen the body.”
Carstairs had not stopped to consider the matter in this light. It might explain a great deal, including the intensity of Alicia’s passions. She’d admitted to spending a considerable amount of time seeking to understand attraction and love between men and women.
“Or it might be she has not been so closely confined as we are being led to believe.”
These new words fell against Carstairs like the cold ocean spray. He had to struggle to bite back an angry retort, and the shame that followed it. What was happening to him? One night with this woman and he was near to losing not just his composure, but the sense of duty that had guided his entire adult life.
“With respect, sir,” said Edward, fighting to reclaim his sense of professional detachment, “I walked in her thoughts. I felt the enchantment. It was an abominable thing, and had dug deep into her spirit. I concur with Rathe’s assessment.” Which Captain Smith had most certainly heard by now. “This was not the work of a moment, or a thing that had been casually put on.”
“Then we must return once again to the question of why it was put on at all.” He got to his feet. “May I see this amulet?”
“Of course.”
Carstairs had already brought the strongbox down to the library and placed it on the desk. He handed Captain Smith the key, and stood aside. Smith rested his fingertips on the box for a moment before he turned the key and opened the lid. Slowly, almost reverently, the captain lifted out the torn ribbon and its gold-framed brooch. Carstairs folded his hands behind his back to hide his clenched fists. He wanted nothing more than to throw the vile thing into the fire. Smith betrayed no such emotion. Instead, he carried the amulet over to the window where he had the full light. He ran his thumb over the cinnabar carvings and lifted his quizzing glass to examine the amulet minutely. Edward gritted his teeth and forced himself to be patient.
“And Alicia Hartwell is indeed a Sorceress?” the captain murmured as he turned the amulet over in his fingers.
“She is, and I believe she will prove to be a powerful one.”
“Yes. It would hardly be worth the trouble otherwise, would it?” murmured Smith.
“What is it, sir?”
“Something I thought to be only a rumor. An old rumor at that.” Smith laid the brooch back into the strongbox. Carstairs tried to suppress his sigh of relief as the captain turned the key again. “It comes from back in Cromwell’s day, when so many magic workers were forced into hiding. I expect you’ve heard a few of the tales.”
“My grandfather used to frighten us with the stories his grandfather told him.” Cromwell had not believed in the Fae, but he’d experienced the workings of human Sorcerers. His cold, Puritan heart had seen the Devil in their magic, and became determined to rid the Isle of Britain of them as he had rid it of its king. Carstairs remembered sitting on the rug beside Nick with the flickering firelight washing over them. They listened wide-eyed and terrified while their grandfather described the thudding of the Witchfinder General’s boots and the creaking of boards over top of a hidden cellar.
“More than one magic wielder who went into hiding in those days never came out.” Smith’s face went hard. “Some never told their children the truth of their natures, or worse, they’d try to drive the magic out of the children altogether.”
“Is that even possible?”
Smith shrugged. “It was one of the stories, and given the terror of the times, I don’t doubt a few people tried. Some may have even succeeded, but what harm it would have done to those children…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. To remove the magic from a Sorcerer or Catalyst would be like blinding their very souls. “But there was rumored to be another possibility.” Smith tapped his
quizzing glass against the chest. “A spell that would hide a Sorcerer’s magic from even themselves. It would bury the magic deep in the soul, where even Matthew Hopkins could not sense it, and he was one of the strongest Catalysts ever born. And I have been searching for that spell for a long time now.”
“But, sir,
why
?”
“Stop to consider, Carstairs, what a spell that can suppress magic might do in our battle against creatures whose very nature is magical. If we can study the construction of this amulet, learn its enchantment and how to wield it effectively, we might finally stand a real chance against them.”
The possibility left Edward thunderstruck. If the Fae could be bound the way Alicia had been, they would be drastically weakened. There would be no chance of a Catalyst failing their Sorcerer the way he’d failed Nick, because an amulet did not need to be fed a stream of magic to work. It could not be fooled by glamour or seduced by beauty. Smith was right. This could change everything.
“What else must we consider, Edward?” Smith asked him.
Carstairs knew what his captain was doing. The question was a test to see if his mind was still clear. Smith needed to know Carstairs could still look at the situation with detachment and analyze all the possibilities. He needed to know Edward could still be counted on.
He also knew his answer. “We must consider whether this is a weapon we’ve discovered, or a lure we’ve been handed.”
“Just so, sir,” the captain replied. “Just so.”
“N
ow, my dear, do sit and please make yourself at ease. You’re quite safe with me.”
Lady Jane opened the door onto Edward’s pretty, powder blue
parlor and Alicia followed her inside. She tried to move smoothly and not to look about her too much, as if she were already well acquainted with the house, but it was no good. She felt stiff and awkward, and was painfully aware her cheeks glowed bright red.
“Oh, I wasn’t…” Alicia began, trying to rally her composure.
Lady Jane waved her stammering words away. “You were abducted, you spent the night in the house of an unmarried man without chaperonage, and now you find yourself in strange company. Of course you feel uncertain. How could you not?” The other woman settled onto the plush sofa and smoothed down her dove gray skirts. “But it’s all right. I’m acquainted with all the circumstances, and please believe me, I am not here to judge you by the commonplaces of haut ton etiquette.”
“I…thank you.” Alicia perched on a stiff embroidered chair, attempting to will herself to something approaching relaxation. “It has all happened so very suddenly.”
“Yes, when it comes to the Service, things generally do.”
“Are you a…Sorceress? Or a Catalyst?”
“Not I. My husband, as you may have discerned, is one of Smith’s agents, and I am much in their confidence. But I also found myself joining the ranks abruptly, so I know at least some of what you’re feeling. In fact, when I heard the details, I’m afraid I insisted on coming to make sure you were all right. You are all right?” she asked suddenly.
“Yes. At least, I think I am.”
“Now, that’s an answer which shows you have good sense.” Lady Jane smiled. “Because how could anyone be certain after such a time as you’ve had? And you say Lord Carstairs has explained to you what’s behind this extraordinary treatment?”
Alicia’s hand drifted to her throat to touch the hollow where her brooch used to rest. “A little.”
“Good. More will be explained to you shortly, but there is a point I wanted to make clear first. If you do not wish to stay in this house, I will take you out of here at once. You may trust me, there will be no argument.” She spoke these final words with such firmness, Alicia had to work not to shrink back from her.
“But I couldn’t leave now.”
“You most certainly could.” Lady Jane drew herself up straight. “And if it is what you want, I will see to it. So, you need not trouble yourself with any words like ‘impossible.’ Do you wish to leave?”
Alicia did not answer at once. She believed Lady Jane when the woman said she’d take her away if she wanted to go. Except for Verity, Alicia had never met anyone so frank, and—despite a fluttering of trepidation—she found herself warming to this openness. With some difficulty, she set aside the question of just where she could go if she left Edward’s house, and tried to consider the main point.
Do I wish to leave?
She had been used badly. Her reputation would be in tatters. But she had been rescued from a most strange imprisonment. She had also been told she was the possessor of magical abilities. Up to this point in her life, she’d been unable to even understand her own heart, let alone perform any act that was meaningful or useful. Now it seemed she had real power as well as real feeling inside her. She had no wish to walk away without learning more.
And then there was Edward. When he’d leaned into the tub where she was supposed to be cleaning herself and proceeded to wash her pussy with long, teasing strokes of his cloth, she’d almost swooned. But his “work,” as he so slyly called it, did not end there, for he applied his mouth and wicked tongue to her folds and her
sheath until she’d come so hard she’d almost upset the bath. No, now that she had found all these new delights, she was in no hurry to give them up. This made her a disgraceful wanton, but it was true nonetheless.
What about Edward himself, though? Alicia felt her thoughts lurch to a halt. He’d said he would marry her. More than once in fact. But there was that hesitation about him as well, that sense of holding back. Could he truly want her as a wife now that circumstances between them had changed so much? It might be only his gentleman’s sense of honor that made him stand by their betrothal. When he held her, when he looked at her with his steel and moonlight eyes, she was sure his heart reached for her. But she was so new to the world of feeling, she could well be mistaken.
“No.” Alicia shook her head at her thoughts. “I will stay.” She would never learn the truth of Edward and Edward’s heart if she ran away from him now.
“Very well.” Lady Jane smiled, and Alicia saw approval in the other woman’s expression. “But if you ever find yourself in need of a friend, you may summon me at any time, day or night. Mrs. Rathe is another you may call on without hesitation.”
“Thank you.” Alicia felt an unaccountable prickling behind her eyes. She was not used to kindness being bestowed so freely. Most of her family had ignored her much of the time. Those who had not, had been dismissive, or scolding. Now it seemed that was not all they had done. Her cheeks burned as the outrage of it came to her afresh and the prickling behind her eyes grew stronger.
“What’s the matter, my dear?”
This soft, friendly inquiry was the final blow. Alicia burst into tears. She did not cry in little delicate sniffles, but in great, loud sobs. She cried for strangeness and exhaustion and fury at the
realization of how badly she had been wronged. She barely felt Lady Jane putting her arms about her, and pressing a handkerchief into her hand.
The door opened, and she looked up through her blur of tears to see Edward standing, stunned, in the threshold. Alicia wiped hastily at her eyes but it was good. Now that it had begun, the flood would not be stemmed. With an oath, Edward unceremoniously pulled her from Lady Jane and raised her to her feet so he could wrap her in his strong embrace.
All will be right, Alicia. I promise. All will be right.
His voice cradled her thoughts as warmly as his arms cradled her body. After a time, her heart was able to believe him, and her tears eased. Alicia looked up into Edward’s gray eyes and opened her mouth.
“If you’re thinking of apologizing, do not.” He tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “After all you’ve been through it’s a wonder this did not come before.” She opened her mouth again, and, utterly disregarding the fact that they were being watched, he not only failed to release her from his embrace; he laid a finger against her lips. “No apologies, Alicia. Do you understand me?”
She nodded, but over her shoulder, she saw Captain Smith standing in the corridor, his face creased with deep concern. He was not looking at her, however. He was looking at Edward.