In the Wake of the Wind (3 page)

“Well, won’t
you
just find out, Miss Know-Everything?” Elspeth said smugly. “Especially now that
he’s
come back.” She wiped her hands down her front, leaving a dirty wet streak.

“Who’s come back?” Serafina said as patiently as she could manage, wondering whether her aunt was referring to an actual person or one of the earth deities. Elspeth might have tried to conjure anything up tonight, and given her suddenly superior expression, she probably thought she had, and wanted Serafina to serve tea to it. As much as Serafina loved her aunt, the woman really could be trying.

“Aubrey’s back,” her aunt said, setting her hands on her bony hips. ‘You didn’t know that, now did you? Ha!”

“Aubrey?” Serafina said, her heart nearly stopping in her chest. “Do—do you mean Aiden?”

“I don’t know what other Aubrey there is.” She scratched her head with one finger. “Now where did I put Delaware’s letter? Let’s see … maybe under the salt cellar.” She pulled out a grimy piece of paper, curling at the edges. “No, that’s my recipe. Oh, silly me, it’s right here in the pocket of my apron.” She reached in and produced something crumpled that Serafina thought might be a letter, although it had some greasy splotches on it.

Serafina eyed her aunt suspiciously, hoping against hope that this wasn’t another one of her aunt’s vivid flights of fancy. She didn’t think she could bear it if it was. “Auntie—you’re absolutely sure you have it right? Do you think perhaps I could see Lord Delaware’s letter?”

“See it? Certainly not—it’s far too complicated, and in any case, young girls should not be involved in legal matters. He just says that it’s all been arranged and Aubrey is waiting at Townsend for you. So appropriate to receive the news on Beltane, the day that honors the wedding of the god and goddess.” She shoved her glasses up on her nose and peered more closely at the paper, smoothing out the creases.

Serafina blinked. “But—but how? Why? I mean, why so suddenly after so much time and no word?” She was so dazed by her aunt’s announcement that she could hardly think coherently.

“I can hardly help it that Aubrey was out of the country these last three years, Serafina, or at least that’s what his father says. But now that he’s home, he wants to get on with the wedding with all dispatch, which is why so many letters have been coming and going from Delaware over the last month. I,” she added grandiosely, “have been negotiating your marriage contracts. Through my solicitor, naturally, but he couldn’t have managed without my help.”

“But you said nothing!” Serafina looked down at her worn dress, her muddy boots with sudden despair, knowing she had nothing finer other than her Sunday dress, and that wasn’t much better than what she was wearing. “Oh, why didn’t you
tell
me, give me some warning? I could have done something to prepare myself!”

Elspeth peered at her over her spectacles. “I can’t think what you could have done, and there didn’t seem to be any point in getting you overexcited.” She shuffled in her desk, looking for pen and paper. “I’ll write and say we’ll be arriving Friday next. The wedding can take place Saturday morning. So, my dear, why are you sitting there like a pea-goose? Isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for all these years?”

Serafina mutely nodded, her head still spinning with wonder. “Yes … I—I think I must be in shock. You’re sure, absolutely certain about all of this?”

“What do you take me for? I’m perfectly
de trop
in these matters,” Elspeth said crossly, and Serafina wanted to laugh at the very idea that Aunt Elspeth was
de trop
in anything. And yet she had nothing else to go on but her aunt’s word, and since she had never doubted her aunt’s good intentions, eccentric or not, she would simply have to believe that Elspeth knew what she was talking about.

Not that Serafina could imagine what negotiating Elspeth could have done. She had nothing to bring to the marriage but herself. Elspeth had probably signed some sort of simple agreement and was just feeling pleased with herself.

Serafina, on the other hand, was elated. Aiden was ready to marry her, and the divine plan was ready to be put into place.

However, given that, there were some practical questions she needed to put to her aunt, and she wasn’t entirely sure how to go about them. “Auntie,” she said hesitantly, “I was wondering. Do you think perhaps it’s time we spoke of what happens after the wedding?”

“Why, after the wedding you live with Aubrey at Townsend, silly girl. What else? You didn’t expect to come back here, did you?”

“Of course not, Auntie. That’s not what I meant, though. What I was asking is what happens on the wedding night? In bed?”

Elspeth jerked up straight. “Heavens, child. It may be Beltane, but I don’t think we should be discussing such things just yet. You’ll find out when the time is right, don’t think you won’t.” She turned her back and returned to stirring her brew.

Seething with frustration Serafina shoved her chin on her hands and morosely stared down at the household accounts. She was beginning to think she would
never
know what happened after kissing. As sure as she was that it was marvelous, the technical details eluded her. She realized that a man put seed inside a woman and a baby grew from that. Just how the man put that seed inside aroused her curiosity mightily. She imagined Aiden with a little medicine dropper of the sort that Elspeth used, asking her to open her mouth.

Somehow that seemed unlikely though, and not the least bit thrilling. It had to be something truly extraordinary, she decided, or what happened between men and women in bed wouldn’t be kept such a deep dark secret. The only conclusion she could logically draw was that since the two sexes were constructed differently, it had something to do with that, with how they touched each other. She hoped so. She liked the way Aiden touched her in the Dream, how he made her feel, all hot and flushed and filled with love.

She smiled, a rush of excitement flooding through her at the thought that she didn’t have much longer to wait to find out everything she wanted to know. And she wouldn’t even have to dream .it.

Miss Elspeth Beaton had never suffered fools gladly, and as far as she was concerned, Lord Delaware was one of the biggest fools alive. Fostering no illusions about his reasons for belatedly requesting Serafina’s hand in marriage to his son, she’d carefully looked into Delaware’s affairs and discovered disaster, exactly as she’d expected.

Delaware’s financial problems, however, held little interest to Elspeth. Serafina’s considerable fortune would bail Delaware out of his difficulties with no trouble, and with the firm restrictions Elspeth had placed on certain of aspects of the settlement, her niece was sure to have a comfortable life regardless of what Delaware did.

It was Delaware’s son she was far more interested in, for she doubted he would go easily to his fate—not that Delaware had left him a choice.

Still, she wanted to know just what frame of mind he was in concerning his upcoming nuptials. “So, Basil,” she said, crooning to her beloved parrot, “now that we’re alone, I think I’ll just have a peek, shall I?”

Basil pulled his head out from under his wing, opened an eye, and ruffled loudly. “Trouble, trouble, boil and bubble,” he mumbled, adjusting one long green feather.

“That’s ‘double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble,’” she said. “I do wish you’d try to get it right, and I don’t see why I shouldn’t have a little look,” Elspeth said defensively. “How else are we to know what to expect from the boy?”

Basil shot her a long, highly suspect look from one beady orange eye and settled his feathers back into place. “Sneaky, sneaky,” he muttered.

“Not at all. I am merely gathering information. Now hush and let me concentrate.”

Basil turned his back as if to inform Elspeth that he wanted nothing to do with the proceedings and settled his head back under his wing.

Elspeth rubbed her hands together and went to a drawer, pulling out a large sphere wrapped in black velvet. “There now,” she said, yanking the velvet off and placing the crystal ball on her little altar. She laid out her circle of stones, then set the censer to smoking and lit the candles.

Raising her arms, she began the ritual chant:

“Air, fire, water, earth,

Elements of astral birth

I call you now, attend to me!

In the circle, rightly cast,

Safe from psychic curse or blast

I call you now, attend to me!

From cave and desert, sea and hill,

By wand, blade, cup and pentacle,

I call you now; attend to me!

This is my will, so mote it be!”

She then placed herself before the altar, her eyes trained on her quartz ball, and waited impatiently. Nothing appeared. “Blast,” she muttered. “Come along, we haven’t all night.” She stared harder into the crystal. Still nothing, but then she’d never been very good at this sort of divining. She was much better at casting spells.

Elspeth picked up the ball and shook it impatiently, and a shadowy image wavered inside. With a shout of glee, Elspeth replaced it on the altar. “There. Now we’ll see what’s what,” she cackled.

Peering as hard as she could, she tried to make out the hazy form, even though it was upside down. She stood and bent over, looking at it from that angle.

So, it was a man. Very good. Dark hair, that much she could tell. Dark hair and blue eyes that blazed with frustration as he unleashed a string of curses, then flung his neckcloth across the room.

“Damn him! Damn him and blast him and damn him again!” he cried. “And I hope he burns in hell.”

“Tut, tut,” Elspeth said reprovingly. “Wish no harm, silly boy, or it will come right back in your face. It’s no wonder you and your family have had so many troubles with
that
attitude.”

His face drew into a frown of concentration as he slumped at his desk and flipped through a pile of papers, obviously not for the first time, given the speed at which he went.

Probably promissory notes, Elspeth assumed, bills of exchange, mortgages, debts to various creditors and retailers, all a sad story of his father’s general financial mismanagement. And the shipping company by which the family had made its fortune three hundred years before was sadly caught up in the worst of the debts. Well, Serafina’s money would fix all those little problems.

Elspeth smiled happily, remembering the day that nasty, ambitious Alice Segrave and her sniveling son Edmund had attended the reading of John’s will, only to discover to their horror that while they might have snatched away the title and Bowhill, they had but a small income from the estate to keep the property afloat. Serafina had inherited everything else. Served those two vipers right, too, she thought gleefully.

She was particularly pleased over her handling of Serafina’s inheritance, refusing to touch one penny of it, shepherding it to even greater heights. Come to that, she was pleased with her handling of Serafina altogether.

She was an unspoiled girl, respectful of the earth and its creatures, mindful of the goddess, even if Elspeth
had
had to send her to church every Sunday. She was properly dutiful and innocent of the darker aspects of the world. In short, Serafina was a perfect bride.

As if in answer to that thought, Aiden groaned and put his face in his hands, his fingers clenched in his hair. “Poor boy,” she murmured. “It can’t be easy for you. But never mind, it will all work out, you’ll see.”

The image blurred and shivered, fading away altogether and Elspeth grunted with disappointment. Still, she’d learned enough about what she wanted to know. And since her part in the matter was nearly done, all that was left was to sit back and watch events unfold. It was not her place to interfere.

She sighed heavily as she covered the crystal again, fully aware of the difficulties that lay ahead. Nevertheless, the marriage was a promising beginning, even if it did chafe at Aiden’s pride and independence. It was going to chafe at a lot more than that before all was said and done, but that couldn’t be helped.

Clearing nearly a thousand years of karmic debt was no easy task. Elspeth could only hope Serafina and Aiden were up to it.

F
our days of packing, punctuated by Elspeth running around like a chicken with her head cut off shouting conflicting orders, were followed by the actual loading of the carriages, trunks of odds and ends lashed onto the roof and the back.

Serafina couldn’t think where they’d accumulated so much of nothing. She had only a small trunk of clothing for herself and a few personal articles. Her aunt, on the other hand, seemed to have an infinite assortment of possessions that she wanted to take along with her on the trip, and since Serafina knew that her aunt’s wardrobe was as limited as her own, she was baffled about what was in the other huge trunk.

Serafina took one last look around the crumbling castle that had served as home for the last eleven years. She was going to miss Clwydd acutely. She remembered the day she’d arrived, numb with grief over her father’s death and the strain of the funeral, feeling like a duck out of water, stripped of the only home she’d ever known, reeling from the shock of having been turned out of Bowhill by her detestable cousin and his mother without one kind word.

The memory still hurt after all this time, and Serafina winced as humiliation came rushing back in full force. She didn’t really know why she was thinking about that awful day now, except that she felt an immense gratitude to Aunt Elspeth for having taken her in, for having made her welcome in her castle on a cliff when Serafina had nowhere else to turn until her marriage to Aiden.

“’Ere, come along now, Miss Serafina,” Tinkerby said from behind her, startling her out of her thoughts. “Times awasting, and your auntie’s loaded up that blasted bird. You know he won’t keep his beak shut for more than two minutes, and I’m not inclined to stand about getting my eardrums broken.”

Serafina turned and gave him a fond smile. “Coming, Tinkerby. I was just saying my good-byes.”

“Aye, well good-bye is the best thing I can think of your saying to this drafty old pile of mortar. I daresay it’ll be missing you a good deal more than you’ll be missing it.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve grown awfully fond of the place, even though it is falling apart at the seams. It feels strange to be leaving, as much as I can’t wait to be married.”

“Aye, and your husband-to-be is waiting too.” He winked. “Won’t have him saying that I held up your nuptials, not when he’s so anxious to have you at his side, if you know what I mean.”

Serafina blushed; she wasn’t exactly sure what Tinkerby meant, but she knew she needed to be better prepared than she was. She hadn’t been able to get another word out of Elspeth on the subject and she was no closer to discovering the mystery. Still, if the prelude in the dream was anything to go by, she expected she’d enjoy the conclusion enormously.

“You see, Tinkerby?” she said, gently teasing. ‘You thought I was making everything up about my destiny with Aiden and it all happened just as it was supposed to.”

“I still think that part about destiny is a lot o’ nonsense,” Tinkerby said. “But I’m prepared to admit I was wrong about his lordship. Mind you, I wasn’t to know he was in the Americas all that time. Hard to marry you when he was an ocean away, I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you,” Serafina said, kissing his cheek.

It was Tinkerby’s turn to blush. “You save that sort of thing for your husband,” he said gruffly. “We don’t want you coming up empty on your wedding day.”

“I don’t think there’s a chance of that,” Serafina replied with a little laugh. “Oh, Tinkerby, I don’t think I’ve been so excited in my entire life!”

She sobered, longing to ask Tinkerby the question that had been uppermost on her mind the last few days, ever since she’d learned that Aiden had summoned her. “Do you think …” she said, hesitating. “Oh, Tinkerby, how do you think he’ll find me? Do you think he’ll find my face displeasing?”

Tinkerby chuckled. “I’m sure I can’t speak for his lordship, Miss Serafina, but you put me in mind of your mother when she first came to Bowhill, that you do. Why do you ask?”

“Because everyone said I was such an ugly child,” Serafina blurted out. “I think I’ve improved a little, anyway, but it’s hard to tell.”

“Aye,” Tinkerby said bluntly. “You were no beauty to be sure, but now that you’ve grown, your face has made better sense of itself.”

“But my eyes are still a funny color and the bridge of my nose is too wide and my mouth is too full and—and my front tooth is crooked.” She regarded him gravely.

“I don’t see a thing wrong with your eyes, your nose, your mouth, or that tooth, for that matter. It’s hardly crooked at all to my way of looking, just a little bit off perfect. You should have seen my wife—now there was a mouthful of teeth. Stuck right out they did, but I didn’t love her any less for that.”

“Oh,” Serafina said with acute disappointment, seeing what Tinkerby was gently trying to tell her. “I suppose he’ll find me too skinny as well. I never have been able to put flesh on my bones.”

“As for that,” Tinkerby said, standing back and regarding her with an assessing gaze, “I’d say you were a slight thing, but not sickening for it, and that’s what matters. Don’t you worry, missie. You may not be a beauty like one of those statues I once saw in Kensington Gardens, but you have character and that’s what counts.”

Serafina chewed on her lip. She wasn’t sure she wanted character, whereas she was certain she could have done with a little beauty. But since she couldn’t have one, she supposed she’d have to make do with the other and hope it was enough.

Tinkerby chucked her chin. “All young girls worry overmuch about their looks, and you’re no different. But beauty is as beauty does, I always say, and you keep that in mind. The good Lord made you just the way you are, and there’s not a thing you can do to change it.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Serafina said with a sigh. “I’ll do my best with what I have and hope Aiden won’t be too terribly disappointed.”

At least we’ll have love,
she thought.
At least we’ll have love.

The journey to Rutland stretched interminably. Elspeth insisted on stopping every afternoon for a three-hour nap, which she enjoyed stretched out in the back of the carriage, snoring peacefully.

Serafina used the time to stretch her legs and take pleasure in the changing countryside. Accustomed to the stormy coastal weather of Wales, she delighted in the more temperate climates of the midlands, the balmy breezes and the differences of topography. They brought her back to her childhood at Bowhill, a far less primitive environment than that of Clwydd, where the rock and scrub were shaped by the harshness of the elements.

But even on the fourth afternoon as they neared their final destination of Townsend, Elspeth insisted on stopping, despite Serafina’s desperation to continue.

“Auntie, please?” she begged. “We’re so close now! Can’t you have your sleep after we arrive?”

“I don’t believe in breaking with routine,” Elspeth said, gesturing to Tinkerby to clean up the picnic lunch. “I’ve always slept between the hours of three and six and I don’t see any reason to change my schedule. You might try a nap yourself to take the edge off your nerves; you’re as jumpy as a cat with a dog barking outside the door.”

“Auntie,” Serafina said, taking Elspeth’s hands between her own, “just this once can’t you make an exception?”

“Certainly not—making exceptions only leads to trouble. And if you insist on taking one of your walks rather than a sensible nap, just be sure you’re back in time to change into your good dress, and try not to collect too many brambles in your hair or I’ll be hours getting them out.”

Serafina watched with helpless frustration as her impossible aunt marched back to the carriage and pulled the curtains across the window. Aiden was five miles away at the most, no distance at all, a mere heartbeat after eleven years of interminable waiting, and her aunt insisted on snoring away three hours of precious time. Serafina wanted to scream.

“Go on then, missie, have yourself a nice walk in the woods,” Tinkerby said soothingly. “You know there’s no changing that one’s mind once she’s set it. You’ve a lifetime ahead with his lordship and a few hours isn’t going to make any difference.”

“Not you too,” Serafina said in despair. “I would have thought you understood.”

“Aye, I understand well enough,” Tinkerby said. “But there’s some things as can wait, and I say your auntie has the right of it. It don’t do to seem hasty.”

“How is Aiden to know whether we’re hasty or not?” Serafina said with frustration. “He only knows we’re meant to be arriving between teatime and dinner.”

“That’s it exactly. ‘Travel in haste, repent in leisure.’ You don’t want to seem too eager, now do you?”

“That’s ‘marry in haste, repent in leisure,’” Serafina said in exasperation. “And I don’t think the saying applies in this case, since I’ve waited forever for this moment.”

“Then you might want to think about what you’re going to say when the moment arrives,” Tinkerby said, climbing onto the box of the carriage and pulling his hat over his eyes. “Go on now, Miss Serafina. There’s naught to trouble you in these big woods and you might as well work your kinks out.”

Serafina shot him one last resentful glare, then took off at a fast pace through the forest that bordered the post road, determined not to let her vexation get the worst of her, not an easy task.

She wandered for some time through dappled thickets, steadily following the elusive sound of water and finally found its source. A bright, bubbling stream ran along one side of a clearing, wending its way over a bed of rock and climbing around and over fallen wood. Damp moss padded the edge of the slight embankment, and Serafina fell to her knees and drank deeply of the cold water, first remembering to thank the goddess for providing her with refreshment.

When she’d finished, she sat up and stripped off her shoes and stockings, then pulled her skirts up around her knees, paddling her feet in the stream with contentment as she wove a chain from the wildflowers she’d picked along the way. She placed the wreath on her head, humming a little song.

Then, since she had nothing better to do for the next two hours, Serafina curled up on her side, resting her head against her arm, and let the warm sun carry her off into sleep.

Soon. So soon now, and she’d be in Aiden’s arms…

Aiden had spent ten aggravating days chasing down first the archbishop of Canterbury to obtain the blasted special license, and then chasing down various creditors and bank managers to determine the exact severity of his father’s financial crisis. It had not been a rewarding period of time. And now bloody Miss Serafina Segrave was about to arrive to bail his father out and seal Aiden’s miserable fate.

He stormed down the stairs and through the hall, intending to ride into the village and get himself thoroughly drunk. And then his sister’s voice rang out from the open doors of the drawing room.

“Aiden? Aiden, where are you going?” she called in alarm.

Aiden’s step halted and he swore under his breath, then turned and went to the doorway. “Out,” he said shortly.

“But they’ll be here at any time,” Charlotte said, dropping her embroidery into her lap, her face pulled into a worried frown as she took in his appearance.

“Precisely.”

“Oh, Aiden, do be reasonable,” she said in a cajoling tone, wheeling her chair forward. “You’re not even dressed for dinner yet, and you can’t come in smelling of horses. What will Miss Segrave think?”

“I don’t give a damn what Miss Segrave thinks, or what her aunt thinks, or what you think for that matter, Charlotte. I’m going out, and you can all consider yourself fortunate if I find my way back by tomorrow morning. And I’m thoroughly fed up with being told to be reasonable, so desist.”

Charlotte’s hand fluttered at her throat. ‘You know how it upsets me when you work yourself into a temper, and I do wish you wouldn’t swear like that—it’s most offensive. Anyway, you’ve been home for nearly a fortnight, and I’ve hardly seen you.” She smiled brightly.

“That, my dear sister, is because I’ve been busy trying to save our communal skin,” Aiden said tightly. “And since the only way to do that is to slip my head into the noose Father’s arranged for me, I’m damned if I’m going to hang myself a minute sooner than I have to. You and Father can look after dear Miss Segrave and her aunt perfectly adequately.”

“But—but Father’s taken to his bed after your set-to this afternoon,” Charlotte said, both hands now aflutter at her throat. “And I wish you wouldn’t swear.”

“Sorry. But Father’s disappearing act doesn’t surprise me in the least. He’s probably too much of a coward to face a situation completely of his own making. As usual.”

“I know, but Aiden … you can’t leave me alone with them. What am I to say? How am I to explain your absence?”

“You can explain it anyway you please,” Aiden said, his impatience growing by the second. “Tell them I’ve gone off to perform my nightly duties as a highwayman for all I care.”

“Really,” Charlotte said reprovingly. “Don’t you want to make a good impression on your fiancée?”

“I somehow doubt it would make any difference,” Aiden said with a distinct bite in his voice, a bite that didn’t hold a candle to the one in his chest, where he felt as if a particularly sharp pair of incisors had taken hold.

“Look, Lottie,” he said, deliberately softening his tone at her wounded expression, “I’m sorry. I’m in a particularly foul mood, which is one of the reasons I’m vacating the premises for tonight. I’ll try my best to be on better behavior tomorrow, but you know how I feel about this impending marriage and the parties involved in perpetrating it on me.”

“I do know,” his sister replied, looking down at her hands, slim and pale, as pale as her face, which never saw the sun. “And I’m eternally grateful to you for your sacrifice. It will be hard on me as well to have such a monstrous, unprincipled woman taking over the household I’ve managed for so long, but I’m trying to put the best face on the matter that I can. You know I’d do anything for you—anything at all to make your life happier in the face of this disaster.”