Belmary House Book Two (12 page)

Ashford had been grumpy and tense the entire journey, and it was only her own nerves and sadness over leaving Kostya behind that kept her from shaking him and begging him to snap out of it. She didn’t relish sitting in the same room when he delivered the news to Serena, so she definitely felt compassion for him having to be the bearer of it.

On top of all the understandable reasons for Ashford to revert back to his silent, brooding self, there seemed to be something else bothering him that she couldn’t get him to share with her no matter how many backrubs or encouraging smiles she gave him.

She caught him looking at her sorrowfully sometimes, but as soon as he realized she noticed, he quickly looked out the window, or pretended to sleep. She hoped he wasn’t going to crack under the strain, especially now that there was no more hope as far as Belmary House was concerned. She could see that worry as plainly as if it was printed across his forehead in a bold red font, and saw him struggle with it every day since he got the news.

She wished he’d tell her exactly what was on his mind. Was it her he worried about? She could absolve him of that in an instant if he’d let her. If it was the victims that might be trapped in other times, she wished he could accept he no longer had any control, but for someone like Ashford, a loss of control would be intolerable. She knew he tormented himself night and day about Camilla and Kostya, and she tried to let him know she was there for him, but he maddeningly kept her at arm’s length.

She hoped things would change once Serena knew the truth, but feared things would only get worse. Feeling responsible for everyone as he did, she didn’t want to think about what he might do as far as Serena was concerned. The mysteriously disappearing paragraph Dexter once swore he read about Ashford marrying a neighbor kept gnawing away at the back of her mind.

“You look as if you swallowed a bug, Matilda. Shall I close the windows?” he asked.

She slowly relaxed her face and released her grip on the seat. “I’m glad we’re almost there,” she said. “But I’m nervous about what’s to come.”

“As am I,” he admitted with a sigh, sliding to sit beside her for the first time during the journey. “There’s not a single bright side to anything I have to tell Serena. I hope she won’t be too shocked, in her delicate condition. I admit I was thinking about perhaps fabricating a tale so she won’t be too worried?”

“You look very serious so I won’t accuse of you joking,” Tilly said. “But I will tell you that’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard out of you in a long time.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” he said sourly, not looking at all grateful. “She’s going to want to kill me for keeping secrets like this for so long.”

Tilly shrugged. What did one do when their family was riddled with witchcraft and powerful enemies? It didn’t seem like there was much he could have done but keep it all a secret, for his family’s safety if nothing else. As enlightened as the villagers probably thought they were, it would only take a few loudmouths to incite torch and pitchfork level panic.

She hadn’t seen anyone along the road, but someone must have caught wind of their approach because the servants were all standing in waiting to greet them when they rolled up. Ashford brushed past them with barely a glance, barking that he’d eat at the normal time and they shouldn’t put themselves out while they were there. She hurried to catch up to him, bobbing her head at the servants, feeling sorry for them for having such an obnoxious employer.

He ordered someone to send word to Serena before collapsing in a chair in his study. She was about to sit as well when he popped back up and paced to the window, throwing open the curtains and glaring at the cloudy afternoon.

“Perhaps we should go to her,” he said. “It’s going to rain soon, I hate for her to have to go out in that. Perhaps I should call Emerson back, we can leave it for tomorrow?”

“Ashford, you’re practically climbing the walls. Your heart will explode if you put it off another day. Just take a breath. She’s not made of sugar. A little water won’t melt her.”

She pulled him to his chair and forcefully shoved him into it, then to soften the effect of her Nurse Ratched tone, began massaging his shoulders. He reached up and held her hand, pulling her forward to kiss her. He smiled for the first time since they’d got in the carriage back in London.

“Why are you so kind to me?” he asked. “I’ve seen what you can do, you really should have beaten me to a pulp by now.”

“I’ve considered it,” she said, kissing him back to prove she was teasing. “I guess I just understand what you’re going through.”

A maid tentatively peeked in to tell them Serena had arrived and Tilly goggled while Ashford sighed and stood up.

“Gossip is always faster than any messenger.”

He looked sickly pale and she squeezed him around the waist. The closer they got to the drawing room, the heavier her limbs got, dreading how Serena would take the news, and praying Ashford didn’t bungle the telling of it too badly.

As soon as they were through the doorway, Serena flung her arms around Tilly and then gave Ashford a quick hug as well. She looked beyond them, going so far as to run to the door and look out, finally turning back, her eyes wild with weeks of not knowing what was going on.

“Where’s Kostya?” she asked, voice rising to a fevered pitch. She shook her head as if telling herself she was ridiculous for being so worried, and Tilly took her hand and led her to the settee. “I’m sorry to be so fretful, but he left in such a hurry, and said such outlandish things.” She paused, studying Ashford before asking the next question. “He said Camilla may still be—”

Ashford coughed. “She isn’t, Serena.”

Tears sprang to her eyes and Tilly couldn’t tell if it was relief or sadness or a mixture of the two. It might have ended up such an unwitting daytime talk show situation if Camilla had returned, but they had been childhood friends, so Serena must have at least hoped a little. Tilly squeezed her hand, thinking how horrible she must feel right now, and how much worse it was going to get.

“Then where is he?” she asked again.

It was clear she had a thousand other questions, but Tilly suspected that was all she could get out, so close as she was to tears.

Ashford started his landed fish act, opening his mouth, then closing it. He looked to Tilly beseechingly and she struggled to know where to start.

“Do you know anything about Ashford’s family?” she began. “About Kostya’s? Maybe you heard stories from the neighbors?”

Serena gave her a deeply offended look before swallowing hard. “I know Kostya wasn’t close with his people.” She narrowed her eyes at Ashford. “There has always been talk in the village about things your mother and grandmother used to do, but of course I always dismissed it as jealous hogwash.”

“It’s all true,” Tilly said when Ashford remained infuriatingly silent.

He finally held up his hand and took a breath. “It is all true,” he said tiredly. “My family is descended from witches. Camilla had power, I do not.”

“What kind of power?” Serena asked, her face now set and angry. She yanked her hand from Tilly and half stood before sinking back into the cushions. “Wi-witchcraft? Julian, what are you telling me?”

“I’m telling the truth,” he said. “Finally. I hope you forgive me for keeping it from you. The nature of being related to such people rather demands it, though.”

“Such people? Are you trying to say your mother was evil? I’ll never believe that.”

“No, no, most of my lot were harmless. I get it from both sides actually. My father comes from an old Scottish clan, but there’s been no contact with them since long before I was born. It all got Englished out over the generations, I suppose, which is why I can’t do anything.”

Serena flapped her hands in the air. “What has this to do with Kostya?”

“Ah, well,” Ashford said, slowly trailing off into silence once again.

Tilly knew he didn’t realize how cruel it was to draw things out, that someone like Serena needed a bandaid ripping approach. The poor woman was being eaten alive with worry for her fiance.

“His family is the same,” she said. “Witches, I mean.”

“Yes, witches,” he agreed, frowning at her. “But
not
 the same.”

She could see he’d finally found the segue he needed to tell her about Kostya, but now he’d hit the wall of not wanting to overly alarm her about their level of evil.

“Julian, for God’s sake, can you please tell me in one go? What is going on, and where is Kostya?”

For real, Ashford, Tilly thought, giving him a reproachful look. Just spit it out. Poor man looked like he’d swallowed a gallon of quick drying cement.

“He’s with the Povests,” he said. “That’s why he went to France, to settle things with his family once and for all.” He glanced at Tilly shiftily, and she supposed there was no reason to spell out all the gruesome details. She nodded encouragingly and he continued. “The reason he was estranged from them is because he’s under a curse, and he’s trying to have it lifted.”

Tilly wished she had a drink, knowing that wasn’t going to fly.

“Why now?” Serena demanded. “He’s never spoken of his family, or a curse. Are you telling me they placed it on him? Why now?”

Ashford leaned forward. “Your child is in danger if he doesn’t have it removed.”

Tilly gasped. He finally found a way to get a sentence out without meandering and it was the worst possible piece of information to do it with. She found no matter how she tried, she couldn’t think of any way to make it less abrupt or awful. She watched Serena go through the shock of realizing they knew her situation, then the absolute fear when she took in what Ashford said.

Tilly hurriedly told her the curse was no fault of Kostya’s, and just what monsters his family were. As soon as the words were out, she didn’t need Ashford’s groan to tell her she’d made a mistake. Serena put her face in her hands and cried for several moments before snaking a vicious look at Ashford.

“You left him alone with these people? People you describe as monsters? How could you, Julian? He’s your best friend, your brother.”

She choked and fumbled in her sleeve for a handkerchief, giving up and letting the tears flow freely. Tilly helplessly handed her one of her own, afraid to see Ashford’s reaction to those recriminations. Without answering, he got up and left the room.

Tilly jumped up. “I’m so sorry, Serena. I’ll be back in a minute, I swear. I swear. Oh, crap.”

She ran after Ashford, heartsick at leaving Serena sobbing in the sitting room. She caught up with him in his office, standing at the window, shoulders stiff as he stared out it.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately upon hearing her enter the room.

He didn’t turn and she went to his side. He slid his arm through hers and continued staring out the window.

“Are you okay?” she asked fearfully.

“I’m not sure, Matilda,” he said. “It’s difficult to get my thoughts in a row. I let Kostya shoot my sister because I knew she was lost to humanity. I feel I can eventually live with it. But I know what those people are capable of. How
could
 I have left him alone? I’m not sure I can live with that.”

“Do you think you’d be alive right now if you stayed?” When he didn’t answer, perhaps not caring, she ruthlessly asked, “Do you think I would be? They seem like the kind of predators who play with their food before they eat it, so do you think it would have been easy for you to watch them tear me to pieces? For Kostya to watch them do that to you? You left because he wanted you to come back here and figure something out.”

He looked down at her owlishly. “I beg of you to tell me what there is to figure out. What recourse do we have to help him?”

As if the heavens parted and shined a light on her, she knew what they had to do. “We’ll contact your Scottish relatives. Up where the other portal is.”

“The Glens?” He blinked, then paced a few steps away from her. “I do believe they’re still practicing quietly. It’s been generations, though. My father and English grandparents only spoke of them in passing, and not very kindly.” He paced back, his eyes changed from flat steel to a sparkling silver. “They’re certainly no strangers to the Povests’ tyranny. They might offer assistance.”

“Of course they would,” she said, praying it was true. “They made the first portal, right? That’s pretty darn powerful.”

The hopeful look in his eyes hurt her heart. He so wanted to make everything right for everyone.

“Yes, that’s true.” He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet in his excitement.

What had started out as a rash suggestion, anything to steer him away from his desolate thoughts, now took seed as a viable option. If there really were other magical families scattered around, they needed to band together and fight the Povests, not live in fear of them. She was fired up with righteous indignation on behalf of all the downtrodden witches. Just thinking about Serena sitting tearfully down the hall made her fists curl with anger. How dare they ruin lives willy nilly?

“They may help us to use their portal up there,” he said, his voice changed. “Or fix the one in Belmary House.”

She almost used her already clenched fist on him for bringing that up again. Weren’t they a team? How could he swing her around in the air so happily one minute, then think about getting rid of her the next? Now wasn’t the time to get into that, though.