Marissa Day (16 page)

But that day had apparently come and gone.

Her blindness had left her without options or recourse. She was supposed to go to Lady Thayer’s house party and make herself agreeable to Lady Thayer’s nephew, and—what was mother’s phrase?—secure their futures?

Why in heaven’s name would Lady Thayer’s nephew be interested in her when no man had been before? Well, no man save Corwin, and possibly, on some level, Darius, but that was an entirely different set of circumstances. It was hardly likely that Lady Thayer’s nephew was a Sorcerer attracted to her because she was a Catalyst.

Was it?

Could it be? Miranda lifted her head and blinked slowly. She had no idea how common Sorcerers were among the haut ton. Corwin’s remarks seemed to indicate they were rare, but there were said to be ten thousand members of their class in society. Surely there were more than two among those ten thousand.

What do I do?
Miranda rubbed her temples. She needed to talk with Corwin, to find out if he knew Lady Thayer’s nephew. But she had no idea how to reach him.

But even as she thought this, she remembered the sound of his voice in her mind. How near did she have to be to reach out to him? He had remarked several times on her strength. Could she call to them, mind-to-mind, and let them know she was in need?

Miranda bit her lip. It was one thing to step into this mode of thought when Corwin and Darius were beside her, but to do so on her own ... It was as if some final line had been crossed. Once she began to use the magic on her own, she could no longer hold herself apart from it. She could no longer pretend she was in some way safe.

That, she realized, was what she had been doing all this time. It was the deep reasoning at the heart of her contemptuous aloofness from her mother. If she didn’t act, if she just let herself be ordered about, she could pretend on some level she wasn’t part of what was happening, that she could still leave it behind.

Miranda crossed to her window. She looked out to the street beyond the garden wall. Several carriages passed by, and a well-dressed couple strolled arm in arm down the walkway. Miranda laid her hand on the cool panes and closed her eyes.

She thought of Corwin. She thought of Darius. She remembered standing between them, feeling so small and yet so strong. She remembered the feeling of their hands in hers as she opened herself to draw the power of the Earth into her. She thought of their eyes, of their mouths, of their bodies, all she could do to conjure in her mind the physical presence of the two men.

Darius. Corwin.
She sounded their names in her mind.
I need you.

It was as if they were standing beside her. The shock of feeling them so completely almost broke her concentration, but Miranda drew a deep breath and forced her mind to remain focused.

At my home, but
...
something has happened. I
...

No. Stop.
The urgent command clearly came from Darius.
You are not properly shielded. Anyone can hear us. We will come to you.

Silence descended. Miranda opened her eyes. Darius and Corwin had felt so close inside her mind, it was startling not to see them standing before her. She shook herself and got ready to wait.

 

 

The next hour passed at a snail’s pace. Fortunately, Louise was ready and willing to bring Mr. Rathe up the back stairs to her apartments, and Miranda trusted that her two lovers could keep Darius from being seen. She paced the confines of her room aimlessly. She thought to write a letter, but what could she possibly have to say to anyone? She tried to read the book she’d begun last week, but she could not seem to make herself care any longer whether Lizzie Bennet ever won the proud Mr. Darcy. She even pulled a piece of fancy work from her sewing basket, only to discard it a heartbeat later and walk back to the window, hoping to see Darius and Corwin walking through the garden.

At long last, Louise’s soft knock sounded at the door, which opened a moment later to admit Corwin and, following close behind him, Darius.

“Thank you, Louise,” said Corwin fervently. Darius said nothing.

Louise tipped Miranda a knowing wink and laid her finger to her lips as she closed the door. Darius immediately snapped the latch closed and Miranda felt a brief tingle in the air that told her he was bespelling the lock.

Corwin did not give her any time to inquire about it, however. He strode across to her at once and took both her hands. “What’s happened, Miranda?”

All at once, Miranda found herself uncertain of what to say. What if she had panicked over nothing? She could hardly tell them Mother was on the verge of bankruptcy and that she had gone running to them like the heroine of a bad novel because she was faced with poverty and an unexpected suitor.

“Stop, stop,” barked Darius, pressing his fingers to his temple. “I can’t make heads or tails of this.”

Miranda stared at him in surprise. “But I didn’t say anything.”

Darius looked at Corwin and sighed. “You said nothing aloud, but you are communicating a great deal.”

Corwin kissed her hand and guided her toward her chair. “And you are obviously very upset. Tell us what the matter is.”

Miranda sat, and Corwin drew up the second chair beside her. Darius, as he had the night before, took up his position as sentry at the window. The associations with the last time both men had been in her room were distracting, but Miranda forced herself to set them aside and speak calmly. Despite her misgivings, she told them of her interview with Mother. Not about the money, but about Lady Thayer’s visit, and the news that Lady Thayer had a nephew interested in Miranda.

“It sounds ridiculous now,” she finished. “But when I heard it, I thought, perhaps, he was a Sorcerer, and I wondered if you knew him and I ...”

Corwin waved her words away. “When is this party?” he asked. “What are the dates?”

“It begins on the nineteenth, I believe, and lasts the week.”

“It passes Midsummer’s Eve,” said Darius to Corwin, and Corwin nodded.

Miranda frowned. “What does that matter?”

Darius drummed his fingers against the windowpane, hard enough to rattle it in the sash. “Midsummer is one of the days when the barriers between our world and Fae lands are at their thinnest, and the inhabitants may pass back and forth most easily.”

“We’ve been thinking we need to investigate Lady Thayer’s guest list,” murmured Corwin. “But perhaps we should begin by investigating Lady Thayer herself.”

“Investigate Lady Thayer’s guest list?” repeated Miranda incredulously. “Why?

Darius looked at Corwin, and Miranda could sense a swirl of thoughts between them, like whispers overheard through a keyhole.

Darius
...

Corwin’s jaw hardened. Darius turned from him and faced Miranda. “Miranda, we came to Lady Thayer’s house because Catalysts have been disappearing across the country. No one knows who is accomplishing this, or exactly why it is happening. We are under orders to find the ones responsible, and stop them.”

“And to protect any new Catalysts we discover in the course of our investigations,” said Corwin. “You.”

Miranda didn’t know what to say. “How is it possible? There would be a ruckus if women—if anyone—were disappearing! Such a thing can’t happen in secret!”

“Can’t it?” replied Darius coolly. “Do you know Edwina Hoyt?”

“A little. She’s gone on the Grand Tour.”

“Barnabas Beauchamp?”

“Yes. He’s engaged to Priscilla Wade, and he took them both to India ...” Her words trailed away. Darius and Corwin both gazed at her unblinking. “But
how
!” she exclaimed. “I know their families. They can’t be
lying
. Not about their children having disappeared ...” But she broke off and answered her own question. “They could have been Persuaded.”

Corwin nodded. “No parent wants to know their child is missing or dead. It would be possible for a Sorcerer to Persuade them that nothing was wrong.” He hesitated. “They could also have been bribed, or lied to, or coerced by the Fae court. The Fae and their allies have all manner of avenues available to them.”

“They are not the only ones, Miranda,” said Darius. “But you are less likely to know the others.”

Fear gripped Miranda, making her blood run cold and her breath come too shallow. No matter how she tried to swallow, no matter how tightly Corwin gripped her hand, she could not push it aside.

“Why didn’t you tell me this at once?” she whispered.

Corwin sighed. “That was my fault. You already had so much to contend with, I didn’t want to frighten you further. Can you forgive me?”

The question echoed in her mind, and for a moment, Miranda honestly did not know how to answer. To have concealed such danger from her ... What else had Corwin concealed?

And what did it mean that it was Darius who had insisted she be told the truth?

“I will consider forgiveness for you,” replied Miranda loftily. “If you swear you will be honest with me from now on.”

Corwin laid his hand over his heart and bowed slightly. “I do swear.”

Miranda turned to Darius, who said nothing, only met her gaze. His blue gaze was closed off, but she could sense a battle going on inside him, a storm of emotion to rival her own. She yearned to reach toward him, to reach inside him, as she now knew she could. She wanted desperately to understand what he was feeling and why he had trusted her in this when he did not seem to trust her in anything else.

But it was because he was trusting her that she pulled back. He would either tell her or he wouldn’t. He had trusted her; she would trust him.

As she reined both curiosity and awareness back, Miranda was ready to swear she felt something new from Darius: surprise. Surprise and gratitude.

Miranda folded her hands on her lap to keep them still. “So,” she said to Corwin. “What do we do next?”

Corwin’s mouth quirked up. “I admit I find myself wondering what Lady Thayer is doing this evening.”

“We should follow her,” announced Darius.

“But I am also concerned about the undue amount of interest she is showing in Miranda. She should not be left alone.” Corwin got to his feet. “Stay with her, Darius.”

Darius jerked himself up straight.
“Me?”

“Darius?”
cried Miranda at almost the same time.

But Corwin just stood, calmly brushing down his coat sleeves and adjusting his cravat. “Unless Lady Thayer plans to spend a quiet evening at home, I may need to insert myself into another household or she may even be at the theater or the opera. Since I was the one at her party, it will be less strange and take less Persuading to convince any staff or companions that I should be where she is.” He looked straight at Darius. “And we are very short on time.”

Darius’s struggle was visible, but Corwin stood firm.

“Very well,” Darius muttered.

“I’ll be back as soon as I am able.”

Before either of them could say another word, Corwin slipped out the door, closing it firmly behind himself, and leaving Miranda and Darius alone.

Miranda looked at Darius. Darius looked at Miranda and swallowed, an emotion crossing his face that Miranda could have sworn was nervousness.

Then he marched over to the door and locked it once more. He stood back, folded his arms, then crossed to the windows and checked that they were soundly latched. He looked out across the garden for a moment and she saw the muscles of his shoulders rippling as he attempted to force his shoulders to relax under his coat of fine green wool.

Miranda knotted her fingers together. If she’d had more time to understand—to sort through this strange arrangement, these previously unimaginable emotions—she might have known what to say. She had shared her body with this man, but nothing else yet. He demonstrated an attraction to her, but it was equally plain he neither wanted nor trusted it.

And yet he trusted her to be able to hear what sort of danger she was truly in. Unless he wanted her told the truth so she would be too afraid to act more than once on her attraction to him, to them. Miranda shook her head and tried not to hate the confusion these men sowed inside her.

It then occurred to her that Corwin might have done this on purpose.

Indignation snapped Miranda’s head up so she looked directly into Darius’s blue eyes.

“You’ve guessed it, then.” Darius folded his arms once more. “Corwin is hoping you and I will become ... reconciled to each other.”