Touch of Passion (42 page)

“Niclas,” Loris began, to be silenced once more.

“I understand that you wish to go to Tylluan, my dear, but I cannot allow it. I promised Kian, upon my honor, that I'd neither take you nor lend you my aid. I cannot go back on my word.”

The words stunned her. “He made you promise not to help me?” Loris repeated, feeling as if all the breath had just been knocked out of her. “Not even to simply
help
me?”

“It makes perfectly good sense,” Niclas said. “Tylluan is terribly unsafe just now. I don't want you to be there, either.”

Loris knew that well enough, but for Kian to have asked his relatives not to lend her their aid felt as if he'd somehow not been playing fair. As if he'd cheated on the promise he'd given her. Especially after she'd told him that it was precisely what she feared—being dependent on others, because she wouldn't know how to return to Tylluan on her own.

“But I can help,” she argued. “You need a woman for the enchantment to work.”

By his expression Loris could tell that she had managed to take Niclas by surprise, which was quite an achievement, considering his particular gift.

“My dear girl,” he said, astonishment written on his features, “do you truly believe that Kian would ever allow you to be the one to aid in this task? That
any
of us would allow it?”

“Yes,” she said, “I do. Because I would insist upon it.”

“Which is precisely why you're not returning to Tylluan until the
athanc
is gone. Now,” he said, rising, “you must forgive me for sending you out of the room. Julia is waiting
to visit with you, and I must speak privately with the professor. I want to make certain that everything is written down in detail before I leave.”

“I shall go with you,” the professor said, “if you'll have m I should love nothing better than seeing one of the ancient creatures.”

“Excellent,” Niclas replied. “Go home and pack, then. I'll make arrangements and arrive there as quickly as possible. With any luck we'll be out of London well before nightfall. We'll have to ride almost straight through to Tylluan, stopping only long enough to change horses and take the merest rest and sustenance that is absolutely required. I apologize that I don't have the gift of quick traveling, but, as you know, it is limited strictly to those among us who are extraordinary wizards.”

“It wouldn't be necessary,” said the professor. “I am more than ready for the undertaking, sir.”

Loris had had enough. She stood and flung her hands out.

“And what of me?” she demanded. “I'm simply to sit here and wait and do nothing?”

Niclas gave her a level look. “I perceive by your emotions that you intend to find a way to journey to Tylluan on your own,” he said, stating the matter quite correctly. “I cannot stop you from pursuing so fruitless a course, but I can try to discourage you. You will not be able to find anyone who will take you to Wales, Loris. None of the servants I've lent you will escort you without my permission, and I'm sure you appreciate how embarrassing it would be to put any of your new acquaintances among the
ton
to the trouble of having to politely decline such a request.”

“My grandfather—”

“Has been informed of the dangers at Tylluan,” Niclas said curtly, “and is in complete agreement that you must be kept safely away. Now, come,” Niclas said more gently, and reached to take her hands in his. “Be reasonable, Loris. Go and stay with your grandfather until Kian comes for you. Or come and stay with Julia. She's missed having you here
with us, and would be more than happy to have your company again. It won't be for very long, now that Professor Seabolt has found the remedy. Kian will come to fetch you the very moment the
athanc
is gone. A week or so, no longer than that.”

Loris pulled her hands free and glared at him. “You can divine what my feelings are, Cousin Niclas, so I'll not alarm Professor Seabolt by expressing them aloud. I shall find a way to get to Wales. I
will
,” she insisted when Niclas smiled as if to humor her. “You may think me as childish or foolish or strong-willed as you please, but I know—despite not being of your kind—I know that I
must
be the one to help Kian.”

Niclas looked at Professor Seabolt. “Is there a provision in the enchantment requiring that the woman involved be a loved one? Or a family member?”

The professor shook his head, casting a regretful glance at Loris. “No.”

“But I must be there, nonetheless,” she insisted. “I'm quite serious, Niclas. I shall find a way to get to Tylluan. Indeed, I might very well even beat you there.”

It was a foolish challenge to make, and Loris regretted it the moment she made her good-byes to Julia and the children and left the house. Not that Loris hadn't meant what she'd told Niclas about getting to Wales, but she knew very well it would take her rather longer than it would him and the professor.

But she would get there, she thought firmly as she climbed into the hack and waited for Elen to join her. Even if it meant facing her worst fears.

But she had better do it now, before she lost courage. Or before her anger cooled and her wiser senses came to life.

Drawing in a breath, she steeled herself and tapped on the roof of the hired vehicle. The trap opened and the driver looked in, and Loris gave him the direction she wished to take. She was obliged to repeat it twice and then to tell him,
quite firmly, that yes, she did indeed wish to be taken there. He looked at her as if she were mad and muttered something about women in general and the quality in particular, then nodded and closed the trap and changed course.

The Red Fox hadn't really changed much in ten years, but it still seemed very different to Loris. It was smaller, somehow. Less overwhelming. Or perhaps it only seemed thus because it was daylight or because Loris herself was taller and stronger and far more sure of herself.

She stood beside the hackney, staring at the tavern's dirty windows and heavy doors and at the worn sign swinging slowly back and forth in the breeze, and waited for the old fear to rise. It had always lived in her, since the day Ffinian had taken her out of London, but she'd been able to keep it pressed down, out of her daily thoughts. It only came to her when she remembered or if she considered what it would be like to go back—though she'd certainly prayed she never would.

But the fear wasn't inside her any longer. She tested herself, trying to see if it would rise, but it had gone away. Completely.

“We're not going to go in there, my lady,” Elen whispered, her voice trembling almost as fiercely as her slender body. “Are we?”

“It's still too early for there to be many customers,” Loris said. “If any. I shouldn't be surprised if everyone is yet asleep. You stay here with the carriage, Elen, and don't let the driver leave. I shall want to depart the moment I've finished my business here.”

It was safe enough on the docks while it was daylight, especially early daylight. The dockworkers and sailors who passed might look curiously at the odd spectacle of a finely dressed lady standing in front of a disreputable tavern, but they left her in peace and went about their business. And those rougher individuals who would normally be of concern wouldn't come out until the sun had disappeared.

More important, she wasn't going to be here long enough for any trouble to occur. This business was going to be conducted quite quickly.

“I'll be back in fifteen minutes,” she told the driver. “Wait here for me and keep an eye on my servant and I'll pay you three times your fare.”

He gave her that look again—the one that said, clearly, that she was out of her senses—but nodded.

The front door would be locked. Loris went around the alleyway, to the kitchen, picking her way carefully through the filth in the gutters, and discovered that she was in luck. Not only was the kitchen door open, but there was steam coming out of it as well.

Peering into the darkness and blinking against the heat and moisture, she called, “Hello? Is anyone within?”

“We're not yet open,” said a deep, grumbling voice. “Is it work you're looking for?”

Loris knew who that was, and what she felt was still far from the fear she'd expected. Anger, rage, fury. They all welled up at once and pushed her further on.

“I've not come for work, Mr. Goodbody,” she said firmly, clearly, “but for something far different.”

Her footsteps were loud on the dirty wooden floor as she made her way. He was sitting by the stove, upon which a pot sat boiling over a fire, and was clad in a filthy pair of pants and an equally filthy half-opened shirt that revealed far more of his hairy chest than Loris wished to see. His hair was all askew and his chin unshaved, and he was smoking a pipe and drinking from a tankard of ale. He blinked as Loris approached, and rose from the chair in which he'd been sitting, reading one of the gossip rags that were so frequently published in London.

“Do you not know me, Mr. Goodbody?” she asked. He was so much shorter than she had remembered. Loris towered over him now. But otherwise, he hadn't changed so very much in ten years. Perhaps his stomach was a bit bigger and
his hair a bit thinner, but his hands looked just as capable of dealing blows as they had then.

His gaze moved over her slowly, taking in the elegant morning dress that Jane had helped Loris don, lingering on the reticule she held and her fine gloves and hat.

“No, miss, I'm afraid I don't—” He peered at her face more closely and at the color of her hair. “Loris?” he said slowly. “Is it you, girl?”

“You met my grandfather recently,” she told him. “And sent me a number of letters informing me of the fact.”

“Aye, and had no thanks for it,” he muttered. “Well, well. Look at you, then. You've done well for yourself, I see. A lady, are you? 'Tis no wonder that you were so ill a serving girl, always sassing and talking back.”

Her brows knit. “I was a mouse,” she told him. “I was so terrified of you and Mrs. Goodbody that I scarce said a word. To anyone.”

“If not for us you'd not have been reunited with that lord who came looking for you,” he countered angrily. “Never a word did we say to give the old fellow a disgust of you. Not a word about those lads who took you off, wanting to keep you to themselves. And what did we get for our trouble?” he asked. “Nothing.”

“One of those lads, as you say, is now my husband,” she replied evenly. “And he is a baron. A nobleman. He and his brother and father treated me with nothing less than respect and kindness.”

“And that would make you a baroness, eh? You, who have me and the missus to thank for your very life. We could have left you in the streets after your father died,” he said, and threw up a hand dismissively. “And what do I get for it? Still nothing.” He glared at her. “You wouldn't even be standing here if it weren't for us. You would have died out there. Or worse.”

Loris gazed at him and knew that it was true. She hadn't liked being forced to live and serve at the Red Fox, but
remembered vividly that the one thing she'd feared above any other was being sent away to fend for herself. Alone.

“Thank you, then,” she said, “for giving me my life. But the price you asked for it was high. I don't forget that you made a slave of me, and treated me as such. After but a week here I lost count of the number of times you and Mrs. Good-body struck me, and the hours I labored for you for a few mouthfuls of food and a blanket under the stairs. If we are to compare what each of us gained, sir, during the years that I lived beneath your hand, I believe the most we can say is that we are even.”

He grumbled and turned away to stir the foul-smelling contents in the pot, sending even more steam into the already thick air.

“What is you want, then?” he asked. “I've a good deal to do before we open tonight, and ‘tis clear you didn't come to exchange pleasantries.”

“I need your help,” she said simply. “I have to get to North Wales as quickly as possible, and I know that you can arrange that for me.”

He laughed and cast a glance back at her. “Why don't you ask your fine nobleman to take you? Or is there some reason why you'd rather he not know? Going to meet a lover, are you?”

“I'm going to meet him,” she said. “And my reasons for going are no business of yours. I want to get there in three days' time, or sooner, if possible. I don't mind about comfort or stopping for rest. I simply wish to get there alive and in one piece. Can it be done? Can you help me?”

“You'd need a proper carriage, unless you mean to ride a horse all the way—”

“Is that faster?” she asked.

He glanced at her again. “Might be,” he said. “But I doubt you'd get far. Folks wouldn't like it, a woman riding such a distance that way. No, it won't do. You'll need the carriage, and a good man to drive it. Boys to change the horses, and a few reliable fellows for protection.” Turning from the pot, he
wiped his hands on a cloth and looked her up and down again. “Do you have money?”

“No,” she said. “You'll need to arrange for that as well.”

He laughed again, fully amused. “Then you'd best find someone else to lend you aid, my fine lady. I'm not footing the bill for your silly wanderings, baroness or no.”

“Don't be a fool,” she said irately. “You want to be paid for all your troubles, past and present, don't you? This is the only opportunity you'll have. Here.” Reaching up, Loris took off her hat and pulled one of the diamond-encrusted combs from her hair, ignoring the curls that fell to her shoulder. She held the comb out to him. “You were always able to pawn goods faster than any man on the docks. This should bring in enough to get you started. Hire whatever and whoever you need, but I want to get started before nightfall, and I don't want to be disappointed in the men, the horses, or the equipage. Spend what you must,” she said. “I'll bring more jewels when I return to make it worth your while. And if I arrive at Tylluan within three days or less, you'll be richly rewarded. I give you my word of honor that you'll not be disappointed.”