Fascination -and- Charmed (86 page)

“Quickly,” Calum said, his voice almost toneless. “It will be best if we return separately and there’s scarce any light. I’ll settle Struan and follow you in a few minutes.”

She looked at him fearfully. “But you do not know the way.”

He smiled and opened the cabin door. “Tell her that I have a hound’s nose for the way, Struan.”

“He doesn’t lie,” Struan agreed, following them into the building’s single room.

A chimney faced with pebbles climbed to the roof. The fire was the only means of heat or cooking. Water came from a pump outside. When she’d visited earlier, Pippa had brushed the earthen floor and set down a colorful rug made of rags. The table and two trestles had remained from the cabin’s days as a hunters’ refuge. A red cloth added cheer, as did red cushions piled on a couch made of woven and leather-tied tree wands.

Calum glanced around. “So this is your hideaway, Pippa. I like it well.”

“It is nothing,” she said. “And it will offer Struan little comfort.” From a chest beneath the single window she removed a patchwork quilt, a woolen blanket and a pillow.

Struan grinned. “All the comforts necessary, my lady. No wonder you find it so pleasant.”

She wondered if she would ever have a chance to enjoy it as she had planned. “There is wood near the door. Light a fire and keep it alight. When I was a girl I used to come here even on cool evenings, and I was never cold once there was a fire.”

“
Evenings?
When you were a girl?”

She inclined her head. “My father thought me capable of looking after myself. I always—”

“She always admired him for that,” Calum said, sounding grim. “I do not like to do this, but I must send you on your way, Pippa. Go directly to your apartments. I shall make certain you are safe as soon as I return.”

Outside, he lifted her to her horse, hesitated, then drew her face down to receive his kiss. “Go with care, sweet lady. You take my heart.”

Hastily dispatched, her head filled with whisperings and yearnings, she set off on the trail she knew so well.

She had scarce reached the first fork when she realized what she had forgotten. The food she had slipped from the pantry while no one was looking was still in a bag hanging from her saddle.

Quickly, she turned around and trotted back, dismounting before she reached the cabin and running swiftly over the soft bed of fallen needles that swallowed her footsteps.

Men did tarry so. They had not begun to light the fire.

Carrying the bag, she approached the door Calum had failed to close behind him.

“How could you be certain it was the same snake man?” she heard Struan ask distinctly. “So many years would have passed. Surely it would be someone else now.”

“His name is Guido. He is the one. And I remembered more. I remembered how I burned my hand as a small child.”

Pippa set the bag down quietly and made to leave without letting them know she’d returned.

“You
think
you remembered.”

Calum told Struan about the visit to Sybel. “She knew about Rachel. She told me Rachel was dead and that if I continued to seek out my past, the result could be deadly.”

Pippa closed her eyes.

“Then take heed,” Struan said. “Yet again, I say let us leave this place now. There is no reason to think you will ever get what you want.”

“I am begging you to do as I ask you, Struan. I have waited for your return because if there is trouble, I may need your help. That is why I decided to ask you to remain here in secret. I could send word, and you could do what might be necessary without anyone anticipating your arrival.”

“What of Pippa?”

“Pippa is mine.”

“Ah, yes. Of course. I’d forgotten for a moment.”

“Accept what has to be,” Calum said urgently. “I shall return to the fair and press the fortune teller again. I believe she almost told me what I wanted to know. The fair will move on within a few days, so there is little time.”

“I am deeply troubled,” Struan said. “Even if she tells you what you want to hear, how do you propose to make her testimony bear on the matter?”

“She will tell me,” Calum said. “Now I must go in case Pippa may have encountered difficulty.”

“Yes, you must safeguard your possessions, mustn’t you?”

There was a silence, and Pippa found she could not move.

“I shall try to forget your tone, my friend,” Calum said. “I hope that when I send for you, it will be because I have proved my right to claim the title of Duke of Franchot and
all
that goes with it.”

* * *

When Pippa burst into Justine’s yellow sitting room, Justine was dressed in a night-robe and seated before the fire with an embroidery hoop in her hand.

“Please forgive me,” Pippa said, tearing her bonnet strings undone and pulling off her gloves. “I beg you to forgive me for intruding upon you so rudely.”

Justine dropped the hoop and rose to limp rapidly toward Pippa. “You could not be rude,” she told her. “Shut the door and come here at once. Whatever can have happened to you? My dear, is it Ella? Max?” She pressed her lips together and frowned before saying, “Has…has my brother done something…?”

“The children are well,” Pippa said. “And Franchot…I have not seen Franchot of late.”
Thank goodness.

“What then?”

“I do not know how to start. Or where to start.”

“Sit down.” Justine pushed her gently into a chair facing her own. “And I shall not annoy you by suggesting you start at the beginning.”

Pippa managed to smile at that. “Calum Innes and I….that is…”

“That is, you think you care for him and that he cares for you,” Justine said as if asking for a second cake at tea.

“Yes,” Pippa said simply. “But that is the simple part. That could be…well, not
so
simple, I suppose. But there is more, much more.”

She told Justine what had happened at Franchot Fair and how strange and desperate Calum had been the following day. Then she explained how Calum had come to her earlier that afternoon and begged her to go with him to meet Struan and then allow them to use the hunting cabin as a hiding place.

Justine listened without interruption, but she did pace slowly before the fire.

“And tonight I discovered what he seeks to prove,” Pippa said. “He believes he, not your…not…He believes that he is the rightful Duke of Franchot.”

Justine stood still, her brows furrowed.

“And I think he wants me because if he is the rightful duke, then I am rightfully betrothed to him. Franchot has already said as much.”

Justine swung around. “You told Etienne?”

“No! He came to me several mornings ago and suggested just such a theory as I have told you. I don’t know where he got the idea, but first he asked if Calum had tried to marry me to get Cloudsmoor—so that he could make great sums of money from Franchot for the transportation of his tin across Chauncey lands. I told him Calum had suggested no such thing.”

“Then Etienne made the other suggestion?”

“Yes.”

Justine shook her head. “An uncanny coincidence,” she said. “I’m convinced of it. When you did not support the one theory, he concocted the second from nothing but air. Under no circumstances must he know what you have told me.”

Relief overwhelmed Pippa and she pressed her temples. “I came to you because I think you like Calum and that you will help me decide how best to ensure that no harm comes to him.”

“No harm must come to him,” Justine said, returning to her chair. “We will not allow it.”

The fervor in the other woman’s voice startled Pippa. “No,” she said automatically. “Although I should not blame you if you felt your loyalty to Franchot demanded that you tell him what I have told you and corroborate his suspicions.”

“I feel no loyalty to Etienne,” Justine said, her face like marble. “He would have let me drown, you know. On the beach when my leg was trapped. He stood and laughed while the sea overtook me.”

Pippa drew back in horror. “Surely he was just a child. He must have been overset.”

“Etienne bears no affection for me. I have never known why. He was fourteen and a big boy. If he had helped me, I might not have been so badly hurt. But, of course, the sea would not let me die. At last it tore me from the rocks and bore me to the beach and safety.”

“Of course?” Pippa was bemused. “Why of course?”

Justine started. “Ignore me. Sometimes I become fanciful. It was no more than chance, of course. But I have often felt that Etienne is not like me, or like our father or grandfather. Grandmama is a bitter old woman who is disappointed in life and has nothing except her family name to cling to. But the Franchots have been known as generous men. Etienne is not generous.”

Pippa smoothed her gloves on her lap. “What has this to do with Calum?”

“Perhaps nothing. Perhaps a great deal. I have felt a powerful affinity for him, Pippa.”

Pippa looked questioningly into Justine’s eyes.

“Yes, I have felt there is something different about him. Something different and yet familiar. As if there is some special thing I should know about him but do not, not consciously.”

Pippa drew a shuddering breath. “I am deeply troubled. I feel…I do not know if what I thought he felt for me is true.”

“I think he cares for you deeply,” Justine said. “But that will come to light in time. For now, we will say nothing.”

“But how can we remain silent when—?”

“We can, because if we don’t, we may never know the truth. I assure you that the man who is supposedly my brother would be delighted to hear your story. Calum Innes would promptly be disposed of. And the rest of your life would be a torment while you paid the price of having loved your husband’s enemy.”

After leaving Justine, Pippa walked around the gallery overlooking the great vestibule and stood, looking down. Calum had said he would make certain she’d arrived back at the castle safely.

Who was he?
Had Franchot—accidentally, if Justine’s theory was correct, stumbled upon Calum’s reason for wanting her?

Did he want her merely because she was part of all he thought was his by right?

A shadow lengthened across the vestibule, and before Pippa could draw back, she found her eyes locked with Franchot’s. The urge to flee was quickly squashed.

Slowly, deliberately, he climbed the stairs and strolled around the gallery to join her. “Late for riding, isn’t it, m’dear?” he said, surveying her habit.

“I returned some time ago,” she said vaguely, noting that, for once, he was neither drunk nor disheveled, an unusual event for the time of night. “I stopped to speak with Justine, but I’m afraid I’m very tired now. So I’ll bid—”

“I was coming to see you, Philipa.”

Coming to see her.
“Were you?” In her rooms?

Franchot took her elbow and steered her firmly in that very direction. “Ever since our little talk the other morning, I’ve been unable to get you out of my mind.”

She fought not to let him feel her revulsion. “Indeed?” she said.

“Indeed, yes.”

Too soon they arrived at her apartments, and he opened the door with a familiar authority that chilled Pippa to her bones.

“It is very late,” she said.

He placed a hand at her waist and ushered her into the sitting room, where Nelly nodded in a chair near the windows.

“You there!” Franchot said roughly, and when Nelly jumped to her feet, he flipped a hand. “Leave us, if you please.”

Nelly bobbed a curtsy and sidled by, all the while looking at Pippa questioningly.

“Your mistress and I are betrothed,” Franchot said, as if that were a perfectly adequate explanation for impropriety. “We are soon to be married and we have a great deal to discuss.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Nelly said. “I’ll return later, then.”

“You won’t be needed again tonight,” Franchot said. Pippa had never felt closer to screaming.

As soon as the door closed behind Nelly, Franchot paced about the room, examining its contents with the eye of a man who had apparently never seen them before. “You’ve been comfortable here?” he asked abruptly.

“Very, thank you, Franchot.”

“Etienne!”
He raised his brows. “Etienne, if you please, Philipa. Is that so great a familiarity to ask from the woman who is to be my wife?”

“Etienne,” she said, praying for some means of ridding herself of him. Still holding her bonnet and gloves, she sat on the very edge of the tulipwood chair Nelly had vacated.

“You will be considerably more comfortable in my duchess’s quarters.”

The windows were open a crack and cold air slipped in. Pippa raised her face and blessed the refreshing current. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Of course. You are too kind.”

“I am not
kind,
dammit, madam. I have come here tonight, hat in hand, so to speak, because I am determined that we shall make a fresh start. And soon.”

“September is quite soon, isn’t it? A mere three weeks?”

Franchot strode toward her and, to Pippa’s horror, went to his knees before her. “My dearest,” he said, passionate sincerity hanging from his words. “You deserve a formal proposal. I have given the matter much thought and know how remiss I have been.”

Pippa held her breath.

“I shall put this error right and we shall go forward afresh. My lady, it gives me great pleasure to know that you are to be my wife. You are a woman truly worthy of the honor.”

He was…he was a boor even when he thought he was scattering charm. “Thank you,” she said, inwardly rejoicing in not having been called upon to verbally accept him.

On his feet again, Franchot began taking off his coat. “Oh, I am a happy man. I don’t want you to be afraid. Leave everything to me, and we shall get along more than tolerably.”

Pippa drew as far back into the chair as possible.

Franchot smiled expansively. “Shy little thing. Only to be expected of virgins, m’dear. We’ll dispense with that small inconvenience easily enough.” The coat was tossed aside and he pulled off his neckcloth, smiling all the while. “Come, let me help you undress. I assure you that this will make our wedding night so much more pleasant for you.”