Haunting Secrets (5 page)

Back then, he’d had his future mapped out. Wealth had finally begun to grow in his coffers and made him a very rich man. Women came easy, but he wasn’t ready for a permanent relationship. Now he realized his mistake for being so careless with their feelings.

That bleak day he’d met with his secretary in the study to write some dismissal letters to the staff. Just as Justin had sent him away, a creak from the floor pulled his attention to the corner by the window. A woman stood, wearing a transparent gown meant to entice. Lust hadn’t stirred inside him this time. Instead, anger raged quickly.

              “How did you get in my study?” he’d shouted.

              She shrugged. “I’ve been here for a while. I wanted to give you a proper welcome home, but I realized it’s not a good time.” She glanced toward the door before meeting his stare again. “Then again, perhaps I came at the perfect time.”

              “You heard what I dictated to my secretary?”

              “Every word. You want to get rid of me and the others.”

              Blowing out an irritated sigh, he moved toward his desk. “Indeed. Since you heard everything, I won’t have to repeat myself, will I?”

              She blocked his path and grasped his arms. “I thought you loved me.”

              “Good heavens, woman. You cannot be serious.” He shook his head and laughed. “Please, leave now.”

              She narrowed her stare, and lines marred her complexion. “I believe you’re not in your right mind. I’m quite certain your rudeness comes from being overly fatigued from your trip.”

              He arched a brow. “I’ve never been more clear in my mind than I am at this moment.”

              Her long, thick eyelashes batted in a quick rhythm and a pout tugged her lips. “You have no heart, Justin. You’re cold and unforgiving.” She blinked back tears. “Not too long ago I fancied myself in love with you. It saddens me to see you’ve changed into a madman.”

“There again, you’re wrong.
You
are the person who is mad.” He walked around her and sat.

Leaning her hands on the desk, she dropped her face close to his. Her gaze stayed on his mouth as if she wanted to kiss him. He wouldn’t give her the chance. He had made the mistake once before and charmed her while intoxicated but vowed he’d never touch her again.

She pouted again. “You think to play with my heart, my feelings, and then leave me to the wolves as scraps?”

“From the beginning you knew what kind of a man I was. Don’t make the mistake and think you can change me.” Justin hardened his voice.

Tears brimmed on her lashes and her bottom lip quivered, yet he knew it was a mere performance. When he didn’t respond to her antics, a whole new countenance reshaped her expression, as well as her body. She straightened. Fingernails elongated into eagle-like talons. She laughed, and her lips curled in an evil twist, almost as if she would spew venom at him at any second.

A deep, scratchy chant rose from her throat, words that held no meaning. Strong winds blew against him, yet the windows remained closed. Startled, he jumped out of his chair and swung his gaze around the room, trying to find where the wind was coming from.

              Cool air swirled all around, and though it had been a bright, sunny day, the light shining through the white-lace curtains darkened to an ominous cloud of trepidation. The only illumination came from the wicked red glow of her eyes.

Chills raced up his spine and he sucked in his breath. What kind of monster was she? Or was he in a nightmare and had not yet awoken?

“Who…or
what
are you?”

Ignoring his question, she pointed at him. The long fingernail took on jagged edges. “This is the last time I let you crush my heart, Justin Maitland.” Her voice turned deep and unsettling. “You don’t know what I can do.”

He gulped the terror lodged in his throat, and scanned the room for a way out, away from this madwoman. This couldn’t possibly be happening. Yet, everything was very real.

“You know I’ve never held those feelings for you.” He took a step back and bumped into his chair, knocking it over.

Her gaze narrowed and she shook her head. “You led me to believe you did, so if I cannot have you,
nobody
will.”

She stepped closer and he pulled out one of the desk drawers. He wrapped his fingers around the pistol and pointed it at her. Laughing, she threw up her hands and with it came another gust of wind, knocking the weapon out of his grasp and pushing it across the floor where it stopped against the wall. His heart pounded in a frantic rhythm.
What the devil!

              “Justin Maitland, before I’m finished with you, you’ll wish you were dead.” Evil pierced her voice, turning it sharp and edgy. “I curse you from this day forward. Every time you look at another woman with lustful thoughts, you’ll walk the earth like a beast. When the moon is high, you’ll kill for food like an animal, and only
I
can control you. Only
I
can break the spell. If I die, you die a cursed man.”

             
What?
She really was a witch? Yet what other explanation could there be of what she’d done so far? “You’re talking nonsense. You cannot be serious.”

“I’m deadly serious.”

              The hammer of his heart increased. Panicked, he glanced around the room again, looking for a way out.

              “Your destiny lies with the wolves, dear Justin.” She stretched her hands in front of her, threw back her head and cackled.

Lightning flashed through the room. A stronger wind knocked him to his knees. His limbs weakened, his tongue swelled, keeping him from crying out.

             
Lord above, help me!

Now as Justin recalled the past, that day had seemed so real. The final words from the witch echoed through his memory. “You
will
be mine, Justin Maitland. Mine. Forever!”

One year ago, he’d been a man. Now…

He closed his eyes and traced the tips of his fingers over the pitiful scars crimping the left side of his face, marks he’d made that first time shifting into a wolf, the witch had told him. Apparently, he had clawed at himself. He didn’t remember any of it.

He slid his hand under the collar of his jacket and over the bumps on his shoulder. His physical appearance wasn’t as horrific as the beast inside.

Trying not to think any more about the curse, he settled behind the organ and rested his fingers on the keys. He pictured more pleasant things. Emerald grass beneath his feet, a cloudless aquamarine sky, and a beautiful woman gazing at him with tender love in her eyes.

Loneliness tugged at his heart. No. He couldn’t think this way. It would ruin him.

Mustn’t dream of what would never come to pass.

But it was so very hard. Miss Fawson had brought back feelings he’d buried so long ago. He missed the robust man he once was. Now he mustn’t even think about holding a woman, or kissing her sweet lips.

Squeezing his eyes closed, he concentrated on moving his fingers over the keys and played the song that poured from his heart. Miss Fawson’s face stayed in his mind. He’d watched her this afternoon with Jonathan. Enjoyed the way her wide eyes gazed up at his foolish brother in admiration. When she laid her hand tenderly on Jonathan’s arm, Justin’s own arm had tingled with warmth.

Oh, to be so privileged once again. He’d give anything to experience the thrill of having a woman gaze into his eyes as Victoria did with Jonathan.

Suddenly pain ripped through him like an invisible knife cutting deep into his chest. Gnashing his teeth, he jerked away from the organ and stood.
Oh, no! Not again!

Fierce heat coursed through his body. His breath became ragged. Boils rose from each pore on his skin, stretched and pulled until coarse hair speared its way through him.

His clothes were barriers, rubbing his skin raw. He ripped at his shirt, freeing the material from his body. Where his fingers had been, white paws formed and large nails grew from each claw.

Heaviness gathered in his throat while the dizziness swimming in his head brought him to the ground. He clutched his chest, trying to slow his rapid breathing. All moisture in his mouth evaporated, leaving him parched and unable to lick his lips. Sharp canine teeth pierced his enlarged tongue.

Heaven help him, it was happening again.

He closed his eyes and cried out, but the sound coming from him was a howl rather than his own voice.

Having these kinds of feelings for a woman was all it took. His heartbeat slowed and his body accepted the changes. In a few minutes, he would no longer remember this nightmare or the curse that created it. His greatest fear was waking tomorrow and finding someone had lost their life at his hand.

Again.

Chapter Three

Victoria’s limbs shook as she stared at the opened door, now empty of the powerful presence that had stood in her room earlier.

Was it a dream, or had her imagination gotten the best of her? She pinched her arm, and then grimaced at the small pain on her skin. No. She was awake, which meant she had talked to someone.

The ghost from the East Wing?
Not likely. The intruder who’d entered her room not too long ago was not the ghost, but someone trying to frighten her away from the manor, and from discovering secrets.

If a servant was behind this, she’d make certain Jonathan had them dismissed immediately. What if the presence had not been one of the staff? Could it have been Mr. Maitland or even Jonathan? And how in heaven’s name did he get into her room? The intruder had left through the door, but he definitely didn’t enter that way.

If she could assure herself this was a servant’s prank, she’d be able to rest more soundly. But why would anyone want her to leave? And why would they tell her she was in danger?

Taking a deep breath, she slowly calmed her quaking body. She’d find out who had the nerve to sneak into her room and nearly scare her to death.

Victoria slid her feet to the floor and into her slippers. She rushed out of the bedroom, pulling on her wrapper. If she remembered correctly, when her night visitor left, he’d turned toward the long hallway heading to the east of the manor.

Her feet padded on the hardwood floor as she hurried toward what she’d hope would bring her answers. Nothing made sense. 

An echo of mumbling made her pause on the stairs leading to the third floor. A man and woman’s voices floated through the air.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. She glanced around the darkened hall for a place to hide. The pounding of footsteps grew closer, and she skirted behind the stairs and flattened against the wall. She held her breath, praying she didn’t make a sound.

A man wearing a dark dressing robe descended the marbled steps and passed close by her.
Roderick.
Marching next to him, grumbling in distaste was his wife.

“You treat me like an unruly child,” he snapped.

Bethany’s arms were folded across her bosom, her lips curled up in distain. “If you’d stop acting like one, I wouldn’t have to scold you so often.”

When they turned the corner of the hallway and walked away from Victoria, she released her breath in a loud gush. The scene had been almost comical, serving to diffuse a bit of her tension.

But she knew something now. Even in the darkness, she could tell Roderick wasn’t the man who’d visited her earlier. His shoulders were not wide enough, and he wasn’t as tall.

It was all very strange. Didn’t anyone sleep in this house after midnight?

On shaky legs, she took two steps at a time to the top floor and the servant’s rooms. It looked as if her prankster was indeed someone who worked in the manor. But who?

Inky shadows, longer than seemed natural in the dim light of the hall, stretched in forlorn warning before Victoria. Needing answers, she refused to turn back. The intricately carved mahogany doors marched ahead of her as tall soldiers guiding the way toward the forbidden East Wing. She pressed an ear to each polished frame, stemming the trembling in her hands as she progressed from one lonely door to the next…to the next.

When she reached the end of the hall she frowned. A dead end. 

Heaving a sigh, she ran her fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp. Whoever played this trick on her would certainly try again. Perhaps she should return to her room and wait for them tomorrow night. She’d be better prepared then.

A draft swept across her feet. With a frown, she glanced at the corner of the hall. Since no windows or doors were nearby, where had the cool air emerged?

Edging her way in that direction, she tapped her toes on the floor. Within seconds, she stood in front of a potted plant. Cautiously, she touched the leaves then reached behind it to the wall. It felt like an ordinary wall. She slid her hand along the wall then stopped. A seam sprouted from the ceiling and extended to the floor. With both hands, she pushed. The wall moved slightly.

Jumping back, she covered her mouth, stifling a scream.

The East Wing.

Her heartbeat thundered in her chest. Her cold palms moistened. Dare she continue? She must. How else would her questions be answered?

From somewhere behind the wall came the howling of a wolf. She sucked in a cry of panic, turned and hurried back to her room. She didn’t stop until she reached her door. Her throat was dry and scratchy. She clicked the lock tight and rushed back into her warm bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin. Staring at the shadows in the room, she listened for any signs that someone might have followed her.

Nothing. The room remained silent.

She dared not close her eyes. Not yet. Would her night visitor return again this evening? Probably not, but tomorrow was a different day. If she stayed at the manor instead of heeding his warning, she suspected he would indeed visit her again.

Recalling the wolf howl, she exhaled. Where had that animal come from? It couldn’t have been a wolf. Perhaps it was a wild dog, but the Maitlands wouldn’t have allowed an animal inside their manor. That chilling cry was like nothing she’d heard before. The sound had tugged at her heart as if he was injured or in pain.