Touch of Passion (35 page)

“But—”

“You have three weeks,” Malachi said. “I only require one, if that, to settle the problem with Lord Perham. It's time to put the rumors to rest and show both him and the
ton
exactly which Seymour our Loris is betrothed to.”

“
Betrothed?
” Kian echoed, stunned. “You know how dearly I wish that was true, but Loris's feelings are completely different. I can't force her to pretend a betrothal with me. Things have happened that you know nothing of. She's unhappy, and needs time to—”

Malachi made a sound of impatience. “Time she has had, and more than enough. And so have you. She wants to see you, and she will. I'll return tonight to collect you. In the meantime, Niclas will make the arrangements. He's having your town house opened and aired in expectation of your arrival.”

“Arrangements?” Kian didn't like the sound of that. “What arrangements?” He stepped forward as his cousin began to move toward the door. “Malachi, wait. You can't simply decide how everything will be this time—”

“I don't see why not,” Lord Graymar said easily, stopping to collect his hat and gloves from a nearby table. “No one else seems to know what they want, except Loris, and she quite wisely wants to see you.
I
know what that means, even if you're too lost in love to do so.”

Kian fell still and stared at him. His heart was beating strangely again. “What does it mean?”

Lord Graymar set his hat upon his head and smiled. “I'm sure you'll find out shortly after seeing her. In the meantime, you might want to consider ways to cause Lord Perham to
accept your suit. You won't have long to do so. I want the announcement made at Loris's come-out ball, two days from now. That is where you'll make your first appearance together before the
ton
and all the silly rumors will be laid to rest. Don't worry about packing suitable clothing,” he added giving his attention to putting on his gloves. “I'll put my tailor to work the moment I'm back in Town. He took your measurements last year, did he not? I feel quite certain that I recall sending you there for something to wear to your father's wedding. Or was that Dyfed? Well, it scarce matters, for you're close enough in size, and Binkley can always make a few adjustments if necessary.”

“Damn it, Malachi, will you stop blathering about tailors? What the devil are you up to? I don't want Loris overset.”

“Good,” Malachi said. “Then I'm sure you'll use all the skill and charm you possess. Oh, and be certain not to let her know if you're required to use any of your other skills on her grandfather. She can be quite unreasonable about it.”

“My God,” Kian murmured. “Never tell me you've been putting spells on the Earl of Perham.”

“Very well, I won't tell you,” His Lordship replied, and the door opened for him without being touched. “I'll come back tonight. Be ready.”

Viscount Brecmont arrived at Lord Perham's town house at noon the day following the Hamlin ball to make his apologies, first to Lord Perham, who assured him that the embarrassment Loris had suffered was not his fault and could be laid solely at the feet of the reckless and rascally Seymours. When the viscount asked if he might express regrets to Lord Perham's granddaughter, regardless of this, the earl called for Loris and then, pleased by her gladness at the sight of the other man, left them in the blue parlor to speak alone.

“Oh, I am glad you've come,” Loris said, taking Tauron's hand. “I'm terribly sorry for the manner in which Dyfed behaved last night. I don't know what made him act in such a
way. He's been unhappy since we've come to Town and I think took that unhappiness out on you.”

“Please don't apologize, Miss McClendon—”

“Oh, don't start
Miss McClendoning
me again, please, Tauron,” she begged. “Is it as bad as all that?”

“I believe it is,” he said unhappily, pulling free of her touch. “I shouldn't even have come today, for I'm sure it will be remarked upon. But I felt that I had to come and speak with you. You said something last night, and I must know the whole of it. I am not in much contact with the rest of my family, as you may have surmised, and know little of their activities. Has my cousin, Lord Llew, been behind some recent ill-doing at Tylluan? He has been in the past, I know, so I'd not be surprised. But from your behavior, and Dyfed's, it seems that this time Morcar has done something especially bad.”

Tauron looked pale and miserable, and Loris's heart went out to him. “Sit down and be comfortable,” she said, waving a hand toward the couch and chairs. “I'll ring for tea.”

She was careful in telling him about the destruction that had been occurring at Tylluan over the past months. Fortunately, she could quite honestly state that she had no idea what, precisely, was causing the actual damage, for she'd not yet been told, though she related that both Kian and Dyfed believed it to be one of the ancient enchanted monsters, brought back to life. She said nothing of Desdemona Caslin.

“Aye, that sounds like something that would appeal to Morcar,” Tauron muttered, accepting the cup of tea Loris offered him. “He prefers the old ways to the new, and he's determined to best the Seymours in any way he can. It's an obsession. But I suppose he can't help himself. He was raised from his cradle for the task. His father, the former earl, was equally obsessed, you see.”

“From what I've heard, the disagreements go back too far for anyone to even remember what started them,” Loris said. “You'd think someone would eventually come along and decide to stop being so foolish.”

“It's not so simple a thing to step out of line among my people,” he told her. “The Families only have each other for protection. Those who cause dissension risk being shunned, and left without a safe haven from the world of mere mortals. If I dared to depart from the ways of the Cadmarans, I'd find myself alone, and perhaps even in danger. Morcar would find and punish me.”

She looked at him closely. “Malachi would help you, if you asked him to.”

Tauron uttered a mirthless laugh. “And then Morcar would kill me, or find a way to manage the task without angering the Guardians.”

“You must decide for yourself whether the risk is worth it, then,” she said. “I learned early in life how valuable it is to be free to make your own choices.” She smiled. “Although
valuable
isn't quite the right word.
Essential
would be better. Essential to one's happiness, despite the danger.”

He gave a sorrowful shake of his head. “You are not one of us, Loris. You don't know what it is to
be
one of us.”

“I know what it's like to be in the complete sway of others,” she told him. “Before Ffinian Seymour took me away from London, I had never made a single decision that affected my own life. My parents chose for me, and then, when they were gone, I became a servant in a tavern and the keeper and his wife decided what my life would be. And if Kian Seymour hadn't saved me, I would have been put into the hands of someone far, far worse, who would have chosen quite a different life for me.”

“I've heard the story of what Kian Seymour did. But he was cursed for it, was he not?”

“Aye,” she murmured. So Tauron had known of that, at least, if not of the
unoliaeth
. “He was. Because of me. But that's not what we should speak of, Tauron, for that's of no purpose to you. I wanted to tell you how I learned how important it is to make your own decisions, and never let another take that power from you.”

He put his cup aside. “Tell me,” he said.

“After he brought me to Tylluan, I looked to Ffinian to tell me what to do. I had never learned how to make a decision for myself, and I expected him to guide me, to tell me what he wanted of me. If he'd given me a bucket of water and a rag and told me to scrub all the castle floors I would have done it without question. And gladly. I would have done anything for him, for he was so kind and gentle and loving.” She smiled as she thought of him and wished, as she had so often wished of late, that he and Lady Alice would come home soon. “And yet I lived in terror of displeasing him as well, for I didn't want him to send me away. If you think it a terrible thing to be dependent on your family, imagine what it's like to have no one at all to care for and shelter you. If Ffinian had thrown me out, I would have had nowhere to go. No one to turn to.

“And then one day,” she went on, “he brought me into his study and sat me down. He took my hands and said, ‘Why have you been hiding in the hallways and shadows, darling Loris? Don't you like it here? Don't you wish to go out with the lads and enjoy the fine sun? Or into the garden to see the pretty flowers?'

“And of course I told him that I didn't know what to do, but if he wished me to go out with Dyfed and Kian—though I was terrified of Kian, for he was always following me—or out into the garden, I would do so at once. And Ffinian said, ‘But what do you
wish
to do, my girl?' ” She sighed at the memory. “And that was when I realized that I was free. That he wanted me to be free, and to be happy. I've never loved anyone as I loved Ffinian Seymour in that moment. He can be the most exasperating man on God's earth,” she said, looking at Tauron, who, having met Ffinian on several occasions, nodded knowingly, “but to me he is something altogether different.”

“What did you choose to do, then?” Tauron pressed.

“Well, I chose to do what made me feel safe, and what I knew would please Ffinian. I got a bucket and rag and began to clean the castle.” She laughed at Tauron's horrified expression. “It was wonderful,” she insisted, “and I was happier
than I'd ever been before. Because it was my choice, and no one else's, and because I was terribly good at it. And, more even than all of that, it made me feel needed. They did need me, those three foolish men, so very much. Their home was falling down about their ears, and they needed someone to stop it from doing so. And in that way, Tylluan became my home, too.”

She took a moment to refill their teacups and to make certain that Tauron's plate was filled with a large slice of cake and a few delicate fruit tarts.

“I know you love Tylluan,” he said, accepting both plate and cup from her. “I heard it in your voice yesterday, during our ride.”

“Very much,” she confessed. “But Ffinian gave me far more than simply a home. Don't you understand, Tauron? He gave me a wonderful gift, when he gave me such freedom—one that I've never taken for granted. I would have been a fool to give it up so easily, having waited so long to have it.”

He shook his head. “But I'm not free,” he said. “I'll never be free.”

Loris gazed at him steadily. “Try telling that to those who live where I once did. Try telling a whore or a dockhand or a child living in one of London's filthy rookeries that you have no freedom, no choice. You make a mockery of the freedom you do have by saying such a thing, especially when there are those who would give all that they have to stand in your place. You'd not see them waste such a chance, believe me.”

He stared at her.

“You don't have to do what the Cadmarans tell you to do, Tauron,” she said. “You could leave England tomorrow, if you chose. You could find a way to keep from being found.”

“My gift,” he said. “If something happened, there'd be no one to save me. Morcar would never come to my aid.”

“Then make very certain you don't misuse it,” she advised.

“And what of you, Loris?” he asked. “Your grandfather believes he's going to make all your decisions from now on.
And he's still hoping for a match between you and me. How will you keep from being forced into what you don't desire?”

“Easily,” she said, “for I've already made my choice.” Then she changed the subject. “You'll be coming to my come-out ball, will you not? I've reserved a dance for you. Please promise me you'll be there.”

“Do you find the soup to your liking, my love?”

Desdemona lifted her head to look down the length of the long table at Morcar Cadmaran—and knew that something was wrong. Lowering her spoon, she said, “Yes. Very much.”

His sightless eyes remained fixed in her direction, disturbingly on mark, and one hand restlessly fingered his wineglass until at last he said, “I'm glad.”

She bent her head over the bowl again, sipping another mouthful of the savory mushroom soup, and began to consider how she might best protect herself from the powerful wizard before her.

She had to be careful. She had to think. Clearly and carefully. Most of all, she mustn't let him know she was aware that their situation had altered.

There was a change in him, a subtle change, but it was there nonetheless. Desdemona gave herself a mental shake for not realizing it before this moment. Cadmaran was too quiet, not going on endlessly as he usually did in order to hear the sound of his own voice. And the dining chamber itself was too still. There was no one else here, she realized of a sudden, and the pace of her heartbeat quickened. They were alone.

“How do your dealings with the beast go on?” he asked. “You seem to be resting it more often than you used to do.”

Was the soup poisoned?
she wondered.
Or the wine?
But no. He would realize that she had protections against such simple, earthly creations. And he didn't possess the gift of making potions himself by using the ancient magic, as she had heard the
Dewin Mawr
could do. Apart from that, Cadmaran would not risk the wrath of the Guardians by doing such a thing. They had already done more than enough by making him blind. This game, Desdemona knew—or at least hoped—the Earl of Llew would play by the rules.

“The creature requires rest,” she said, the calmness of her tone belying the fear in her heart, “else it will do no harm when it's called out of the lake. I've told you of this before, but perhaps you've forgotten. The
athanc
must be handled with care, my lord, if you wish to use it to the greatest purpose.”