ENTANGLED (31 page)

She’d ignore him. Truly, it was the best course of action.

The heels of her slippers tapped against the slate stone patio, thumping in time to her heart beat. Did he follow? She wouldn’t dare glance back, he might see it as an invitation to join her.

Outside wasn’t much better. Many guests had escaped the stuffy indoors and were enjoying the festive night air. In the darkness, guests could indulge in their sinful side, hidden amongst the shadows. Perhaps an All Hallows Eve festival had been a bad idea after all. People would use any reason to indulge and a pagan festival was the perfect excuse.

Frowning, Mary Ellen moved across the patio and leaned her elbows on the marble railing. A large fire burned brightly in the middle of the lawn. Couples laughed and danced around the flickering flames, doing things they wouldn’t dare in the light of day. There was no denying that the festive mood was much more raucous than normal. At the beginning of the festival, Meg had warned her to stay inside where she’d be protected. But Meg had abandoned her, leaving Mary Ellen in Aidan’s sensual hands. Wasn’t being out there better than being with him?

Blast it all, she needed air. She needed space. Yet, now, she wasn’t so sure. Above, stars twinkled, a full moon shone brightly overhead, casting the area with an eerie yellow glow. A shiver of unease caressed her skin. As guests danced around flames that sent shadows and light across their masked faces, she couldn’t help but think they rather resembled a Grimm’s fairytale…or a nightmare.

Still, she couldn’t return to that ballroom and Aidan.

“Behold, an angel fallen from heaven.”

Startled by the sudden voice, Mary Ellen spun around. A tall man dressed in a black suit with a black mask stood at the bottom of the steps leading into the garden, his wicked smile directed up at her. Mary Ellen frowned, confused by his boldness. Then he shifted and the light from the lantern hanging near the doors hit his golden blond hair… Mary Ellen’s heart skipped a beat. Aidan was not the man for her, but Lord Worthing was indeed.

“I believe I know that beautiful auburn hair, that lovely figure.” He moved up a step, his body fluid, almost like a cat…about to pounce.

Mary Ellen flushed, her grip tightening on the railing. “Lord Worthing, I feared we would never get the chance to talk tonight.”

He grinned, those amber eyes sparkling behind his mask. He was so incredibly handsome, but blast it all, she couldn’t help but compare his features to Aidan. Sadly, she found Worthing…lacking.

“I’ll always find time for you.”

A couple months ago those words would have had her swooning. Now…now they merely piqued her curiosity. Did his comments seem too rehearsed? His movements played out precisely?

“A stroll with an angel would do wonders for my soul.” He held out his hand.

Mary Ellen bit her lower lip. Dare she? Damn it all, two months ago she would have jumped at the chance. She would not give up on her dreams now merely because Aidan had come along. She’d planned too long and too hard.

Mary Ellen moved down the steps, her legs wooden, her heart protesting with a thumping beat of denial. Reaching him, she slipped her gloved hand into his. Aidan hadn’t worn gloves, although why that comparison came to mind, she hadn’t the least idea.

Worthing leaned toward her, his breath warm on her ear. “The yews will provide us with privacy.”

A cold shiver of unease whispered up her arms. Worthing started forward, leading her toward the line of tall trees.

Don’t go
.

A voice whispered somewhere nearby and at the same time, all around her. Mary Ellen paused, confused and glanced back at the house. No one was there. Only the dancers could be seen through the windows.

“My dear, what is it?”

“Nothing at all.” Mary Ellen turned toward Worthing and smiled brightly up at him. “Shall we?”

“Indeed.”

The sounds of revelry faded the further away they strolled, the shadows of the trees beckoning privacy. Brittle fall leaves crunched underfoot, sounding very much like the breaking of bones.

“
Whooo, whooo,”
an owl called.

At the sudden snap of branches from a nearby elm, Mary Ellen gasped.

“Fear not,” Worthing said softly. “I shall protect you.”

Did his breath smell of alcohol? Mary Ellen gave him a tight smile. Who, she wondered, would protect her from him? They stepped between a parallel line of tall yew trees and darkness surrounded them. Here, the yellow moon could not reach. Here, prying eyes would not see.

“
Do you believe in ghosts, Miss James?
” Aidan’s voice whispered through her mind.

She was very much rethinking her position on spirits and the otherworld. “Perhaps we should return? The air holds a chill that I don’t much care for.”

Worthing pulled his hand free and wrapped his arm intimately around her waist. “I shall keep you warm.”

She stiffened under his bold touch. Never had she cared much for men who pressed their advantage on unmarried women. Oh, she and Worthing had flirted, but she couldn’t help but think his actions too bold. She barely knew him, after all. What had she been thinking when she’d decided he’d be the perfect husband? Why, just earlier in the evening she’d seen him whispering in Catherine Smith’s ear.

Feeling somewhat frantic to escape his touch, she twirled away from him. “How do you truly know I’m Mary Ellen?” She took a few steps back, intending to move as far away from him as possible. “I could be anyone.”

“A fairy in disguise?” He grinned, thrilled with the chase, as if she was a hen and he the fox. Disgusted, she glanced toward the trees. She could slip through the yews, head across the rose garden and be back at the house before anyone knew she’d been gone.

“Shall I dare to uncover the truth?” he taunted.

“You’ll have to catch me first.” She spun around and pushed between the green branches.

His delighted chuckle annoyed her. It was too high-pitched, too loud, too unlike Aidan’s soft laughter. Damn him! Why must she think of Aidan now? The man was a constant thorn in her side.

Mary Ellen hid between two trees, watching with relief as Worthing headed in the opposite direction.

“Oh my little fairy, where are you?”

She rolled her eyes, stepped back onto the path and brushed her skirts free of any leaves. Worthing was most definitely not the man for her. But if not he, who then?

With a sigh she started toward the house, gravel crunching underfoot. Her slippers were soaked through with dew, most likely ruined, blast it all.

It was all Aidan’s fault, really. If he hadn’t induced such strange emotions within…if she wasn’t intent on proving she didn’t need a nanny…

A twig snapped from somewhere behind her. Mary Ellen froze. Blast, had Worthing found her already?

Mary Ellen pasted a smile upon her lips. “Why, Lord Worthing,” she spun around. “You’ve already…”

Two men stood in the shadows of the yews, faces covered with black masks, clothing as dark a sin. She had no reason to suspect they were anyone other than guests. So why did a shiver of unease whisper over her skin?

“Can I help you?” she asked.

Neither one said a word.

Mary Ellen knew in that moment how right Meg had been.

She never should have left the house.

“Byron is so very romantic, don’t you agree, Mr. Callaghan?”

Aidan was doing his best to ignore the woman in front of him, but she didn’t quite see his disinterest. He’d rather stab himself repeatedly in the eyes than talk about poetry. Where the hell was Mary Ellen? He’d seen her slip outside moments ago. Had she left the patio? He moved to the open doors, knowing the woman followed… Miss Smith, or something or another.

The patio was empty.

“Or do you prefer other reading material?” Miss Smith asked, snapping at his heels like a pup after a meal. He hadn’t expected Mary Ellen to leave the patio, but obviously she had. Under the glow of the moonlight he could see the impressions of her slippered feet in the grass. Not only her slippers. Larger prints as well. Male.

The animal inside him roared to life. She might not want him, but he had apparently claimed her as his own anyway.

“I, in fact,” Miss Smith proclaimed. “Will read anything.”

Aidan started down the stairs, his steps long and hurried.

“Will you be back, Mr. Callaghan?” Miss Smith called out.

He didn’t bother to respond. Damn her, what was Mary Ellen thinking to go off with some drunken fool? He knew she was attempting to prove a point to him, but he’d never thought her to be this irrational.

The laughter of the guests dancing around the fire was barely audible. The only sound was his own blood roaring…surging…through his veins.

He knew there was an owl overhead without looking. Could hear Worthing calling for Mary Ellen near the rose garden. Knew there was a couple kissing passionately some ten feet from him, hidden under the branches of a maple tree.

None of that mattered. In the air was Mary Ellen’s sweet scent. He closed his eyes briefly as he continued down the path, following her scent. A sudden scream interrupted the night sounds. A scream so soft and muffled that others wouldn’t have heard the cry for help. But he heard.

Mary Ellen.

Aidan burst down the trail, uncaring who noticed his unnatural speed. The shadows between the yews morphed into human shapes. Two men, one woman. Mary Ellen struggled in the arms of her captors, doing her best to break free.

Aidan saw red. His fingers curled and he burst forward, so fast they didn’t see him coming. He grabbed the first man by the shirt and tossed him aside, finding perverse satisfaction when he heard the thunk of the man hitting a tree.

A split second later he threw his fist forward, directly into the second man’s face. The crack of bone was a most pleasing sound. Mary Ellen started to fall back with her captor. Aidan reached forward, jerking her safely into his arms.

“Aidan?” Mary Ellen blinked up at him, confused.

He understood her bemusement. It had all happened within a blink of an eye. No human could possibly understand what had just taken place. He knew by the scent, both men were dead. Their bodies broken by the pressure of his fists. He wanted to kill them all over again.

It was only when he cupped the sides of her face that he realized his hands were trembling. “Are you well?”

“Yes, but…but…” She was pale, shaking in his arms. Her mask had come off and lay upon the ground, while her hair tumbled in molten waves that curled down her back and over her shoulders. The sleeve of her dress was torn. Aidan clenched his jaw so hard, he was surprised his molars didn’t crack. He drew her close, holding her against his chest. For the first time, she welcomed his touch, his attention.

“You’re hurt,” he said softly.

“No, I’m fine. Merely surprised and confused, is all.” She tried to turn to look at the men, but he held her close, not allowing her to divulge her curiosity. The scene would only disturb her.

“You’re cold.” She tilted her head back and looked into his eyes. “Always so cold.”

If only she knew why. If only she realized how well she could warm him. No doubt, she’d run screaming toward the home. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “No…I…” She seemed flustered, unsure and she’d always been so sure. He found her sudden change endearing and even better, intriguing. “Yes?”

She swallowed hard and dared to look into his eyes. “Thank you, Aidan.”

“Of course.” How badly he wanted to taste her. How badly he wanted to pull her close, feed from her, have her completely, make her his. The beast within growled to life. “We should return.”

With him, she was not much more protected than with the men who had attacked her. He started to lead her toward the patio, when she pulled away.

“But…”

He paused, glancing back at her. “What is it?”

“I don’t understand.” She tore her hand from his and wrapped her arms tightly around her chest. “You moved so quickly—”

“You were under duress. You’re confused.”

She frowned. “And your eyes, I could have sworn they glowed.”

“The moonlight.”

She stepped closer to him, as if searching for the truth. Hell, if he didn’t want to admit it all. He was so damn tired of the secrets.

“And your—”

He grasped her upper arms and jerked her forward. Before she could protest, he pressed his chill lips to her soft, yielding mouth. Mary Ellen sank into his body, releasing a little moan that stirred his blood.

He couldn’t help himself. She didn’t belong to him, she never would. Yet, when she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her soft breasts to his hard chest, he knew he would take her there on the damp grass.