Touch of Passion (17 page)

Cadmaran, evidently, was waiting for him.

Kian had been at the castle only once before, when Cadmaran had taken his cousin Niclas's future wife, Julia, captive. They—Kian, Dyfed, their father, and their men—had waited outside the castle, ready to attack if need be, while Niclas had gone alone into Cadmaran's lair to free Julia. It had been one of the bravest and most foolhardy acts Kian had ever witnessed, for Niclas was a lesser wizard and possessed no powers to match the Earl of Llew. Instead, Niclas had taken only an ancient magic necklace to bargain with, as well as his love for Julia. Those two simple things had proved sufficient to bring both him and Julia safely back out, victorious.

Cadmaran had fared rather worse after their confrontation, for he had used magic to try to kill Niclas and the Guardians had placed a blood curse on him, making him blind. That had been three years past, and, until today, Kian hadn't seen Cadmaran, not even in London, which the Earl of Llew had used to frequent.

An eerie quiet greeted Kian as he made his way across the bailey. The few servants who went about their various duties were silent, save for the sound their footsteps made in the gravel as they walked past. No one looked at or spoke to Kian, not even the boy who approached to take Seren's reins. Not meeting Kian's eye, he led the horse away toward the stables.

Another set of gates silently opened across the way, leading Kian into an inner bailey and a courtyard graced with a beautiful, if ruthlessly perfect, garden. Every leaf, every blade of grass, was cut to astonishing precision, so that for a moment Kian wondered whether it wasn't merely a vision that Cadmaran had conjured. But as he followed the path that led to the massive castle doors, he realized that it was real enough, if far from natural.

It was an impressive display of magic. Clearly Castle Llew and all those in it, was beneath a powerful enchantment. The knowledge made Kian slightly more tense; he'd never even known such magic as this existed, let alone seen it firsthand.

The castle doors opened when he reached them, as the gates had, allowing Kian entrance. He stopped on the wide steps, gazing into the dark depths of Castle Llew, seeing before him a long hallway lit only by flickering torches mounted at intervals upon the bare stone walls.

He hesitated, sensing the strength of the dark magic that lived within. It was the lion's den, and he was very likely a fool to go in willingly. Reaching up, he pulled the hat from his head, smoothed his other hand over his hair, then pushed forward into the elegance and grandeur that belonged to Morcar Cadmaran.

The doors shut and Kian waited to see if anyone would appear to lead him on, but no one did. Somewhere down the length of the hall he heard another set of doors opening, and accordingly followed the sound. They led to another hallway, which led to another, with walls lined on either side by elaborate, shining suits of armor. Still there were no oil lamps or even candles to be found, but torches lit the way. It was like stepping back in time hundreds of years, and Kian could
feel the spirits of those who had come before watching and listening.

At last he came to two tall, beautifully carved wood doors and knew that he had arrived at the entry to the great hall. Silently, the doors swung open.

The great hall of Castle Llew was as remarkable as the rest of the immense structure. It was a room built on a grand scale, constructed with the original intention of housing a very large number of people. Now the cavernous hall served as the intimidating seat of the Earl of Llew, and as Kian made his way, he had to admit that he was impressed.

The room was richly decorated with both furniture and ornamentation that maintained Cadmaran's preference for the medieval. Ancient weapons graced the walls, and more suits of armor kept silent vigil near the several huge fireplaces that were currently putting both light and heat into the room, along with dozens of torches. Beneath Kian's feet were a series of expensively crafted carpets, all of which looked to be as antique as the weapons and suits of armor, somewhat faded but as beautiful as they had been hundreds of years ago.

At the end of the hall was a dais, and upon the dais were what appeared to be two thrones, the larger one set in the center and the smaller one just off to the right. Kian could see at once that Morcar Cadmaran's large, muscular frame filled the first, but the young woman who sat to his right was a stranger to him.

The Earl of Llew, as usual, was dressed predominantly in black, his clothing expensive and beautifully cut, presenting the perfect figure of a fashionable gentleman. The woman was clothed in a gown made from a silken deep green fabric that shimmered in the flickering torchlight. It was a charming creation, cut low at the bodice to expose an alluring amount of white flesh and tied high at the waist to make the most of her slender, feminine figure. She sat ramrod straight, as elegant and noble in bearing as a queen.

This, then, must be Desdemona Caslin.

Dyfed had described her as dark and delicate and lovely, but the words hadn't done her justice. She possessed the kind of beauty that was so striking it was difficult to keep from staring at her. Even before he reached the bottom of the stairs that led to the dais Kian could see the unusual color and clarity of her catlike eyes. They were like crystalline violets and were gazing very directly at Kian, as unwelcoming and cold as arctic ice. Morcar Cadmaran's blind expression, by comparison, was almost friendly, and it was well known how much the man hated all Seymours.

“It took you long enough to make this visit, Lord Tylluan. I expected that you would come months ago, but Seymours have always been foolishly stubborn, and you do not appear to be an exception. My congratulations, by the by, on at last taking your rightful place as baron. That was long past due, as well.”

“Yes, it was,” Kian replied, glancing from Lord Llew to Desdemona Caslin, who was still gazing at him in that piercing manner. “I realized that almost immediately after I took the title. If I'd done so years ago, the troubles that have plagued Tylluan would have long since been dealt with. Though you were always diligent to bother us when my father was baron, too.”

Lord Llew smiled with unveiled dislike. His unseeing gaze turned more accurately in Kian's direction. “Do you wish to accuse me of something in particular, Tylluan? I'm eager to hear the words.”

Kian's eyebrows rose. “Accuse you aloud, my lord? You must think me a complete imbecile to readily do something that the Guardians would consider a challenge. But, then, we do not know each other well, do we? And I do not know this young lady at all.”

“How remiss of me,” Cadmaran said lightly. “Allow me to make known to you my betrothed, Miss Desdemona Caslin, of America.” He swept a hand toward where she sat. “Desdemona, my love, this is one of our neighbors, Kian Seymour, the Baron of Tylluan.”

Kian bowed. “I'm glad to meet you, Miss Caslin, having heard something of you. I believe you've already met my brother, Dyfed.”

Her eyes narrowed and her mouth thinned; Cadmaran turned toward her with a touch of honest surprise in his face, saying, “Is that so, my dear? You neglected to tell me.”

“I killed his horse,” she stated without emotion. “Last night. It was in my way.”

“Oh dear,” Cadmaran murmured, pleasure glinting in his dark, blind eyes as he turned back toward Kian. “What a pity. I'm certain my beloved regrets the incident. Have you come to ask me to replace the animal? I should be more than happy to do so. I keep an excellent stable, as I'm sure you know.”

Desdemona Caslin was still gazing at Kian in that hard, penetrating manner, and he found it impossible to look away. He felt the tremendous power leashed within her—power such as he had rarely encountered before. He wondered if he would be able to match her, should such a thing become necessary. How had Dyfed managed to detain the woman even for a moment?

“You're from the States, Miss Caslin?” Kian asked, keeping his voice low.

“From Boston, sir,” she replied with frigid politeness.

“Your father would be Draceous Caslin, I assume?”

Cadmaran frowned, but Desdemona's expression remained unchanged.

“Do you know of him?” Lord Llew asked.

“Of a certainty,” Kian lied. “He is one of the great wizards in America, is he not?”

“He is
the
great wizard,” Desdemona stated tightly, the first rise in emotion Kian had seen since he'd entered the hall.

“The Caslins are the most prominent and powerful family of our kind in the States,” Lord Llew said. “Just as the Cadmarans are in Europe.” He paused briefly to see if Kian would argue the point. “This will be the first of many unions
between the two families. I hope you will wish Miss Caslin and me happy?”

It was all Kian could do to keep from uttering a laugh, but he reminded himself of where he was and that Cadmaran's powers were increased within Llew's borders, just as his were within Tylluan's.

“Certainly,” he said pleasantly. “I'm sure that you and Miss Caslin will be . . . well matched.” He couldn't quite bring himself to say “happy,” for he'd never yet known a Cadmaran who was.

Something flashed through Desdemona Caslin's violet eyes, a fleeting look of disgust, but it was so quickly gone that Kian couldn't be quite certain.

“As to my brother's horse,” he went on, “I don't require that you replace him. Bachgen was descended of that ancient breed which has served the
dewins
among our kind for many generations. He was given to my brother as a gift by the
Dewin Mawr
, and was trained to accept a lesser wizard as his master. He cannot be replaced by animals bred by mere mortals, which, unless I'm mistaken,” he said, tilting his head consideringly, “are all that the Cadmarans possess. Though I'm certain your stable is perfectly presentable, otherwise.”

A faint smile tilted Desdemona's lips, but the Earl of Llew was far from amused. Hundreds of years ago the Cadmarans had managed to kill off the enchanted horses that had been allotted them, mainly from maltreatment and neglect. It was a mistake that the current earl had tried to rectify, offering the other Families a good deal of money to part with some of their animals, but to no avail. The creatures were far too valuable, and the loss of Bachgen was a blow that couldn't be easily recovered from.

“However,” Kian said, “if some manner of amends would be made, I should be pleased to have the destruction that my tenants and their livestock have suffered come to an end.”

Cadmaran's sightless eyes glittered. “I thought you said that you weren't going to be so foolish as to accuse me of
anything. That sounds very close to making a rash mistake, Kian Seymour. Are you intimating that I am behind such suffering?”

“Did I say as much?” Kian asked.

“Not yet,” Lord Llew said. “But I believe that may change in time. You haven't yet told us why you've come to Llew. Uninvited.”

“I wished to inform you that certain inhabitants of Tylluan will be traveling to London soon,” Kian told him. “Over the next few days, in fact. One of those travelers will be my brother, Dyfed, and the other is one who is dearer to me than my own life. I do not want them to be disturbed in any manner, or waylaid upon the journey. So many unforeseen accidents have occurred of late that I thought it best to take no chances.”

“Closer and closer, my lord,” Cadmaran said, and laughed. “And how, pray, does telling me this most interesting news lend the journey greater protection? Surely you don't suggest that I should ever harm innocent travelers?”

“Certainly not,” Kian replied. “I merely wanted to make it known that the woman is my
unoliaeth
, and that any harm that may come to her will be considered by the Guardians as having befallen me. I shall be granted like for like of the one who is at fault, whether that one's own hand was the means of harm not. And if so much as a tear should fall upon her cheek because of another of my kind, I shall exact repayment in full. Thus I make my vow aloud, so that the Guardians know of it. That is all I came to say.” He sketched a proper bow to Desdemona Caslin, whose gaze had grown thoughtful as it rested upon him, and, straightening, set his hat upon his head.

“Good day to you, Miss Caslin. Good day, Lord Llew.”

Cadmaran and Desdemona sat in silence as their visitor walked away. With but a thought Cadmaran opened the great hall doors, then shut them as he heard Kian Seymour walking through.

When they were fully closed, Cadmaran said, “What did you think of him, my dear?”

“That I wish I had killed his horse, instead.”

Cadmaran laughed and, turning toward her, sought her hand with his own. Desdemona did nothing to make the task easy for him.

“He intends to take us on alone, my love. That is why he sends away his beloved.”

“And the brother?” she asked. “Is he of no help in the matter?”

“None at all. I believe the only gift he possesses is that of silent speech. He's clearly of better use squiring the girl about London. We shall go to Town one day soon, my dear.” He at last found her hand and squeezed it tightly. “You must be introduced into society. I shall take you as soon as our business here is done.”

Desdemona nodded. “Then we must be quick, my lord. I'll take the beast out again tonight. It's rested well these past two days, and will be hungry.”

“Excellent,” Cadmaran said, clearly pleased. “Perhaps you might come across another of the ancient breeds again, and be obliged to rid its rider of its excellent services. I understand Kian Seymour's own mount is descended of the same sire as his brother's was. How unfortunate it would be should he lose him.”

She looked at Cadmaran, into his handsome face with its dark, unfocused, unseeing eyes.

“Aye,” she said, and with a rush of displeasure realized how very alike their thoughts were. “It would.”