Temptation & Twilight (44 page)

“Does your husband know what you are, Marie?” he challenged. Her eyes opened, looking glazed.

BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

9780373776627_CS5_txt.indd 357

12-01-31 4:04 PM

358

TEMPTATION & TWILIGHT

“Larabie is no longer a concern. I’ve disposed of him, as I always do when complications arise.” She smiled, parted her lips, ran her hand up Iain’s chest. “You are such a beast, Alynwick. You have no idea what pleasure—true pleasure I’ve had from you. I’ve always known this side of you lurked just beneath your barely civilized veneer.

You could take me now,” she murmured seductively, “and I would more than welcome you. I would beg you.”

“Where is Elizabeth?” he demanded, sickened by this creature.

“Perhaps you’ll find her where you’re going.” Iain heard the scrape of a boot too late. He turned, and was bashed in the head with a poker from the hearth.

Falling to his knees, he struggled against the pain, but was taken by surprise by a punch to his face from the opposite side. There were two of them, he realized as his vision started to swim. He tried to fight, but one man held his arms while the other pierced the flesh of his wounded shoulder with the tip of the poker. He roared in pain, reached for the hem of Georgiana’s gown, but he was pulled back, a cloth placed over his mouth and nose.

Beth…
He tried to fight them, tried to fight for her, but the cloth was drenched in ether, and he was rendered helpless by the drug. When he collapsed on the floor, he saw Beth in his mind, the effects of the ether threaten-ing unconsciousness.

“Take him to the club,” he heard Georgiana order.

“But don’t kill him. I’m not done with him yet. We have much more to discover about one another.” She brushed her palm over her throat, gazed at the marks on her flesh made by Iain.

“I’ll kill you for what you have done,” he growled, fighting the ether.

She laughed, the sound throaty and aroused. “Dear BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

9780373776627_CS5_txt.indd 358

12-01-31 4:04 PM

CHARLOTTE FEATHERSTONE

359

God, how badly I want you,” she taunted. “Lasseter will not have you. You, Sinclair, are the man I have waited for all my life. And I will not lose you now.” IN THE DARKNESS, Lizzy listened to the distant echo of water dripping onto stones. She was quite alone now, with only her thoughts. Fear had long since left her, as she lay here on the cold, damp stone in nothing more than her night rail.

She had no way of knowing how long she had been here. Had it been hours, or days? Her assailant had kept her drugged with the ether, and she had slept away the time, unconscious, in the darkness of her mind, and this tomb she was imprisoned in. She wondered if her brother had gotten her letter and was even now on his way back home. She didn’t dare hope that Alynwick knew she was gone—they’d parted ways. It had felt final when he had left her chamber, as though they had said everything that needed to be said. For all she knew, he might have even left the city.

Oh, stupid, pigheaded fool that she was. She had let her pride get the better of her, and now she was trapped here, quite alone and at a madman’s mercy.

She began to twist and cry, to claw at anything around her, searching fruitlessly for a way out of this tomb where she found herself.

Laughter echoing off the walls made her stiffen, made her skin pull taut in fear, her nerves tense with the need to take flight and protect herself.

“It’s quite useless, you stupid chit,” the voice said, and she stilled, cocked her head to the side. She knew that voice. Despite the darkness, she recalled the sound of it from the deep recess of her mind, from memories long past, nearly forgotten.

BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

9780373776627_CS5_txt.indd 359

12-01-31 4:04 PM

360

TEMPTATION & TWILIGHT

“Yes,” the voice said again. “You thought it over? Well, my dear, I’m here to tell you it’s just begun. And in the end, I will be back where I should have always been.” Oh, dear God, it couldn’t be. It was the ether, poison-ing her mind. She pulled, stretched, feeling frightened, horrified. He laughed, and all the memories came rushing back, horrible memories, painful ones. She could hardly speak, could scarcely believe her own thoughts.

But that laugh, the demonic sound of it could belong to no one else. “Adrian?” she choked out, fear making her voice hoarse. “No, it can’t be!”

“Can’t it, sister? My, it’s unbelievable you’ve managed to put it all together, and being blind as a bat, too.

Astonishing, really. But, then, you always were a smart little bitch.”

Oh, it was him; utterly impossible, but true. The knowledge made her want to retch, to cast out what little contents of her stomach remained. Her skin was positively crawling, as if covered with ants.

“How did you know, after all these years?” he asked.

“It’s your voice. Your tone. The mocking way you always had.”

“You mean my years in France have not altered it? Do I still have that…ducal authority in my voice?” In the darkness, she searched for a reason, an explanation. No, it couldn’t be. Adrian was in Yorkshire, on his honeymoon with Lucy. This was not Adrian. Not her brother. This was…it was the brother she had once known, the cruel taunting young man from long ago who cared for no one but himself, risen from the dead like an evil entity.

“How can this be?” she demanded, struggling to make sense of her thoughts. She wanted it to be from the effects of the ether, prayed it was so, but knew it wasn’t. Some-BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

9780373776627_CS5_txt.indd 360

12-01-31 4:04 PM

CHARLOTTE FEATHERSTONE

361

one, Adrian York—the
real
Adrian York—was alive, and standing right beside her. “How?” she rasped.

“Because our father left me for dead, threw me in a horse cart full of rotting vegetables, and left me wounded and bleeding. He thought me dead, and did his all to hide the fact. And then he placed his bastard son in my place.

And you, being useless and blind, never knew the difference.”

Yes, she had known the difference. The man who was her brother was kind and loving. This creature… He was a monster. But then, Adrian always had been. He’d been the image of their father in deed and thought. This, she thought with a measure of fear and disgust, was the true Adrian York. And she knew now what he wanted.
Revenge.

“I see Mother’s affliction has claimed you. What is it like, Elizabeth, to be an invalid and weak?”

“I’m not an invalid,” she declared. “I’m not weak.”

“I could kill you here, and no one but the rats would discover your body. I’d say you are indeed very weak.” A surge of fury, of a fierce protectiveness, shot through her. He wanted the Brethren Guardians. He wanted her brother. “What do you want with him, Adrian?” she demanded. “After all these years, why now?”

“My rightful place is what I want. The bastard impostor dead, my title restored to me. The artefacts of the Brethren Guardians in my possession.”

“To do what?” she railed.

“To discover if the powers that are supposedly contained within them are real. To see for myself if the blood of an innocent can create alchemy, and give me the powers to possess divine knowledge. I want the power, Elizabeth, the means to be whatever it is I want.”

“And if they have no power?”

BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

9780373776627_CS5_txt.indd 361

12-01-31 4:04 PM

362

TEMPTATION & TWILIGHT

“They do. Our ancestors would not have risked life and limb to flee the Holy Land if there was not some truth behind the story. Our forebears would not have kept the relics safe from the eyes of the world. No, there is magic and power there.”

“The others won’t allow it.”

He snorted and moved closer, but then stumbled, cursed, and it was then that Lizzy realized her brother was not immune to their mother’s malady.

“How much sight do you have left, Adrian? It’s rather disconcerting, isn’t it, as it slowly fades day by day, until it is completely extinguished.” He growled, his hand shot out and he wrapped his fingers around her throat. “I can see well enough to choke the light out of you. Remember that.”

“But not well enough to carry out this plan of yours by yourself.”

“I am the brains of it, if not the brawn,” he muttered.

“It hardly matters now, Elizabeth, because I’m going to win this game. I’m going to beat the Brethren. And do you know why? It’s because I have patience. I learned it during my time in France, healing from wounds. I watched a spider weave his web as I lay in bed. So patiently he weaved it, meticulously following his pattern, moving in the same direction, weaving always in the same pattern. Come the morning I would knock down his night’s work, yet he would be back, weaving, night after night, patiently constructing that web for his prey. And then one day I allowed him to keep his web. I watched as he patiently finished it. And I watched as he lured his victims. It was then that I learned from the spider. How to plan. How to be patient. How to lie in wait.”

“You’re mad!”

“I always was, Elizabeth. Didn’t you realize how very BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

9780373776627_CS5_txt.indd 362

12-01-31 4:04 PM

CHARLOTTE FEATHERSTONE

363

different we were? You were an angel and I was a demon.

Unlike you, I’m not afraid of the darkness. I embrace it.”

“You won’t win, Adrian. How will you do it, kill us all?” She scoffed. “Do you think the authorities won’t search for the others? How will you explain it when so many peers go missing?”

“My dear, you’ve underestimated me, and the depths of my revenge. It will work out. Just you wait. Once all is assembled, it will unfold before your very eyes. Not that you will see it, of course.” He laughed, released his hold on her neck. “I hope you’re not relying on the dear marquis to save you.”

Her heart sank at the mention of Iain. What a fool she’d been. She wished to reverse time. Wished she had encouraged him to stay. She wished that she might have one more chance to see him, and say what she needed to.

“My accomplice has taken quite a fancy to him, you know. I’m afraid he’ll be gone for a long while. I do hope you said your farewells.”

She lunged at him, connecting with him, hitting him.

She’d come from the side and he was surprised. She heard that shocked breath, and knew that he could only see objects directly in front of him. It had been that way with her. The dimming of her vision, reduced to shadows and shapes, with no peripheral vision.

He tossed her back against the stone wall and she cried out as she hit her head. Her night rail was falling and the stone scraped her skin. “I should bury you alive in that pit I dug. One false move, Elizabeth, and I will toss you into that grave.”

He left her then.

Elizabeth by rights should be terrified, but she was not. For she knew where she was now: beneath the Templar church, in the crypts where Sheldon had taken her.

BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

9780373776627_CS5_txt.indd 363

12-01-31 4:04 PM

364

TEMPTATION & TWILIGHT

Behind her, the sound of a heavy iron door closing made her stop and listen. That was not the door Sheldon had used. That door had been wood. The one her brother had just closed was definitely iron.

She had her bearings, and began to crawl on her hands and knees, her hands blindingly groping the dirt in an attempt to not only locate the pit that had been dug, but to avoid it.

She just needed to reach that door. She needed to find Iain—needed to save them both.

BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

9780373776627_CS5_txt.indd 364

12-01-31 4:04 PM

HOW HAD HE GOTTEN HERE? Iain had no clue. His head still pounded and the taste of ether made him gag. His shoulder burned like the devil’s tongue, too. He’d been stabbed, leaving his arm stiff and painful, and no doubt fetid.

The steps to Sussex’s town house seemed an enormous mountain to climb, but he endured it. Beth was gone, and he couldn’t find her. He’d been out for days searching for her, and then he had been accosted by Georgiana’s guards. He had awakened in a back room of the Adelphi, bound to the bed, semiconscious, a bottle of ether and a rag on the bedside table. Thank heavens Sutherland had discovered him, after he didn’t return home.

By the grace of God Iain was still alive to find Sussex back from Yorkshire.

He did not have to ring the bell. The door opened as if by magic, and the sound of a gun being cocked and pointed between his eyes greeted him.

“You’ve saved me considerable trouble, Alynwick,” Sussex said steadily. “You traitorous bastard. I’d shoot you dead right now if I didn’t need you to tell me where my sister is.”

“I don’t know, damn you,” he snapped, too exhausted to feel surprise at Sussex’s actions. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Orpheus
is
Nigel Lasseter. I’ve been to the club, but he’s gone. Georgiana—”

“We know what you’ve done, and who you have been BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

9780373776627_CS5_txt.indd 365

12-01-31 4:04 PM

366

TEMPTATION & TWILIGHT

with, Alynwick. Betraying us. Betraying me. We found the correspondence between you and Lady Larabie, de-vising your plot. You conspired with her to steal the pendant and chalice.”

“No!” This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t.

Sussex was wrong; there was a mistake. “There is no evidence. There was never any plot between her and me other than the one I told you and Black about.”

“No mistake? It was all there in your study drawer.

You should have been more careful, but then you probably didn’t think Lizzy would write to me.” He couldn’t think. The world was suddenly spinning.

“Damn you, Sussex, it’s a trap. I’m not one of them! I only want to find Elizabeth. Someone has taken her, and it sure as hell wasn’t me! Jesus, Adrian, listen to me.” Something flickered in Sussex’s gaze, and he slowly lowered the gun.