Touch of Passion (11 page)

A grandfather
, Loris thought in amazement.
A blood relative
.

“If this man, Lord Perham, believes he's my grandfather,” she asked, “then why hasn't he simply come to Tylluan to
find me? Or at least written to me himself? Why would he contact me through the Goodbodys?”

“He doesn't have any alternative,” Kian told her. “Have you forgotten the kind of people the Goodbodys are?”

No
, Loris thought grimly. She hadn't. She looked at the letter once again, scanning it more carefully. “And there's no mention of how I might find this gentleman, either—they wisely didn't supply his name or title—if he is indeed my grandfather. If a meeting is to take place, it must be arranged by them. For a price. Aye, that's why they've written so insistently, for they cannot make so much as a ha'penny until I've replied. What horrid people.” She looked at Kian, a new thought occurring to her. “And you knew, from the first letter that arrived those many weeks ago, what their purpose was? You divined its contents just as you did this one.”

“I did,” he confessed.

Anger began to rise again, but this time Loris didn't bother to calm herself.

“You
knew
that my grandfather might be looking for me and never saw fit to tell me?” She shook the letter at him.

He only continued to gaze at her calmly. “I knew that the Goodbodys claimed your grandfather was looking for you. I also knew that they were liars and cheats and not to be trusted. And you can scarce lay the blame at my feet for your ignorance,” he added. “You made it abundantly clear that you didn't want to know. You threw every letter away, and would have done the same with this one had I not made you open it.”

“But you should have told me!”

“The time wasn't yet right.”

“Then why now?” she pressed. “Why did you choose this particular missive to reveal the truth?”

“For one thing,” he replied, “the Goodbodys were clearly going to keep sending them and oversetting you. And for another, I've at last had word from my cousin Niclas, who was kind enough to look into the matter for me. He is the one who managed to discover that the gentleman in question is the Earl of Perham and, having investigated further, reports
that His Lordship's claim to be your maternal grandfather may have merit.”

“The Earl of Perham?” she repeated faintly. “My mother's father was an
earl
?”

“Perhaps,” Kian said. “I do not say that he is your grandfather, only that he may be. We'll not know with certainty until you've met face-to-face.”

Loris stared at him. “Meet him . . . at the Red Fox?”

Kian made a sound of impatience.

“You will never be made to step into that establishment again,” he vowed. “The Goodbodys have been removed from the situation entirely. They remembered that you came away to Tylluan but must have forgotten that the young gentlemen who used to frequent their tavern had powerful relatives in London. Or perhaps Malachi made them forget, which is entirely likely. I only wish I'd been present to see how my cousin Niclas handled the Goodbodys when he went to visit them regarding the matter. Suffice it to say they won't be writing you any more letters. This is the last of them.”

Loris could imagine how terrified the Goodbodys had been of Niclas Seymour. He was a lesser wizard but a powerful man nonetheless. Niclas served as the
Dewin Mawr's
right hand and oversaw the many Seymour ventures and the family's vast fortune. Apart from that, Niclas was physically quite different from the blond Seymours, who, like Kian, had inherited elfin features and tall, slender frames. Dark-haired Seymours were far more powerfully built, and Niclas was no exception. He possessed astonishing strength and could have lifted both of the portly Goodbodys with but one hand.

“Is he to come here, then?” she asked hopefully. “Lord Perham?”

“No, Loris.” Kian sat forward and briefly rubbed at one temple, as though he had an ache there. If it was possible, he looked even more tired. “He's not. You're to go to London and meet him there. I've decided that you'll be more comfortable staying with Niclas and Julia, rather than at the town
house, and, of course, they would much prefer to have you with them, as well. As to Lord Perham, Niclas will make arrangements for you to meet each other in a manner that will be comfortable for you both. Dyfed is to escort you to Town,” he said with a slight stiffness in his tone, and stood to walk toward the desk. “He doesn't know about the visit yet, and I'd appreciate it if you'd not say anything to him until I've had a chance to tell him. You'll be leaving shortly after he returns from
Fynnon Elian
.”

London
, she thought with dismay, her senses whirling.

Loris didn't want to go back to London, ever, and Kian knew that full well. Ffinian had never been able to convince her to join them when he and his sons had made their brief visits to Town each year, and she'd actually begun to feel hysterical on the two occasions when he'd jokingly teased that he would tie her up and throw her into the carriage.

Just as she felt slightly hysterical now.

“I believe it would be better if Lord Perham came here,” she told Kian, rising from her own chair. “It makes far more sense.”

Kian had his back to her, and when he spoke it was in a dismissive tone.

“The arrangements have already been made, and I'll not change them. I intend that you and Dyfed should make this a proper visit, and remain in Town through the rest of the spring. You'll be arriving in time to enjoy the Season and be introduced into society, regardless of whether you're related to the Earl of Perham. And if you are his granddaughter,” he said, casting a brief look back at her, “believe me, society is going to be desperate to be introduced to you. Your beauty is going to cause a stir, regardless, but being a long-lost granddaughter to a nobleman of Lord Perham's standing will make you an absolute sensation.” He uttered a laugh. “Every unmarried man in England is going to be falling at your feet, and quite a few who are married, as well. Dyfed's going to have his hands full, poor fellow.”

“I don't want to be a sensation,” she whispered, struggling to push the panic down. “Kian, I don't want to go to London. I don't want to leave Tylluan.”

“I've asked Niclas to appropriate sufficient funds from my account in Town to cover your expenses,” he said, ignoring her. “You'll require an entirely new wardrobe. Julia will help you with all that, so you've nothing to worry about.”

“I'm not going,” Loris stated flatly. “I'm not. Lord Perham will simply have to come to Tylluan if he wishes to speak to me. I shall be very glad to welcome him, and I'm sure you won't mind if he desires to stay for any length of time.” She neatly folded the letter and slipped it into her apron pocket. “I must go and make certain that Cook isn't putting too much pepper into the stew. You know how heavy a hand she has at times.”

Resolute, Loris turned and strode to the door. She set her hand upon the handle and prayed that it would open. It didn't. Kian's magic had locked it.

“Open . . . this . . . door.” She said each word slowly and distinctly so that he knew just how serious she was.

“Loris—”

“Open this door,” she repeated more loudly. “
Now
.”

He was silent, waiting, and Loris began to tremble. If there was anything she hated, it was showing weakness in front of Kian. He would either mock her or try to be kind, and she wanted neither from him.

“Kian,” she said, her voice wavering badly. “Don't do this to me. Please.”

“Loris,” he said again, much closer now. She realized that he had used his magic to silently move up behind her, which was something she'd always felt was ungentlemanly. Under different circumstances she would have railed at him, perhaps even struck him, but at the moment she could only think of the awfulness of being so far away from Tylluan. Since she'd come to live there ten years past, she'd not been more than half a day's journey from the castle, and then only to buy goods in the nearby towns and make a quick return.
Even those brief journeys had been difficult, and she'd felt an urgency to be safely back within Tylluan's borders.

Everything that she loved, all that constituted her happiness, was here. A miracle had brought her to this perfect place. If she went away, especially so far as London, she might never find a way to come back.

Loris was shaking so hard now that she scarce felt Kian's fingers tentatively touch her shoulder. She instinctively jerked away, pressing closer to the door.

“No,” she managed, furious with both him and herself. “
No!
”

“Let me help you,” he murmured, slowly, so slowly, putting his arms about her. “I can make it better. Let me.”

It was the same promise he'd given her on that night so long ago, in the alley outside the Red Fox, when he'd soothed the pain in her stinging cheek with but the touch of his hand. And it was the same promise he'd given any number of times since then, when she'd been troubled. It was one of his gifts, and no matter how they fought, he had never withheld it. Yet, somehow, Loris had never learned to willingly accept any kindness that Kian offered, even when she needed it.

“I can't leave,” she said as he turned her stiff, unyielding body toward him. She was horrified to hear tears in her voice. If she began to weep in front of him she'd never be able to live with herself. “I won't go. You told me . . . you
promised
me . . .”

His chest was warm and comfortingly solid as he folded her tightly into his embrace. Her legs, which had been trembling so badly that she thought they might give way, were suddenly relieved of the burden of carrying her weight.

“There is no need to be so overset,” he told her. “I gave you my promise that I would always keep you safe, and I will keep that promise, just as I've kept the others. Tylluan is your home. You'd not be made to give it up, even if you wished to.”

“Wishing means very little to a woman,” she said haltingly against the cloth of his coat. “I have no means of leaving
London on my own, of finding my way back to Tylluan. I do not possess a carriage, or horses, or have a driver. I don't even have enough funds to buy a ticket on the post coach. I would walk, if I had to, but I”—she swallowed back a sob—“I wouldn't know which road to take.”

“Don't let fear take you,” Kian whispered near her ear. “Close your eyes, Loris,” he commanded gently, evidently not aware that she'd already done so. “Let me calm your shaking. We've only a few moments before the pain begins.”

He began to speak in a language she'd heard many times before at Tylluan but had never after been able to replicate. It was soft and melodious, flowing over her raw senses like a warm caress. When Kian spoke like this he made her think of Liw, who knew how to give her peace, as well, though without imparting pain.

Liw Nos. If she went to London she'd not see him for weeks, perhaps months. Or ever.

Kian must have felt her tense again, for he said, “Is it the pain?”

“Not yet,” she whispered.

Then he began to chant again in the same low, soothing tone.

Whether Loris wished to let go of it or not, the fear was drawn out of her, inexorably, like the drawing of a wound, as Kian continued his incantation. The fear stopped, her mind and body relaxed, and her thoughts calmed.

“What is it that you fear most?” he asked. “Being kept in London against your will? Being taken away by force to Lord Perham's estate in Cumberland and made to wed some nice, safe gentleman with a large fortune and many properties?”

The very idea made her shudder.

What is it that you fear?
The words tumbled through her mind. It was difficult to put into words, and she didn't know if he would understand. Kian and Dyfed had always had so much freedom. Too much, really.

“I fear losing what I've gained,” she told him at last. “And of becoming unnecessary to . . .” She nearly said “you” but stopped herself. That wasn't at all what she'd meant. “To Tylluan,” she finished. “Once I've gone, you'll realize just how little you need me here.”

“That day will never come,” Kian said softly. “You are very necessary. You always will be.”

“Not so much that you find it difficult sending me away.”

She felt it then, a slight, tingling discomfort that prickled along her skin wherever their bodies touched. Kian recognized what her stiffening meant and quickly released her. Sighing, he turned and moved back toward the window.

“I knew you'd not be pleased, but it never occurred to me that you'd take such fright at the notion of going to London, especially not to meet a man who may be your own grandfather. But you must go, Loris,” Kian said solemnly. “You and Dyfed both. For a short time, at least.”

“Must go?” she repeated. “You make it sound very urgent, of a sudden, when you've been content to wait so many weeks to even tell me of it.” She took a step nearer, staring at his profile as her suspicions grew. “This doesn't truly have anything to do with Lord Perham, does it?” she asked slowly. “Surely it's not because of the troubles?”

Kian didn't look at her and made no reply, and Loris knew she'd guessed right.

She moved to stand before him. “But that's foolish. You need us, both of us, most especially now. You depend upon Dyfed for so much, and you need me to run the castle and keep it and the grounds in order. Sending us away will only make your burdens more pressing.”

He shook his head. “It can't be helped.”

“It can,” she pressed. “Perhaps Dyfed's right. Perhaps it's time for you to admit that you need help. Why don't you send for Malachi, rather than sending us away? Or at least ask him for advice?”