Midnight Secrets (16 page)

“Can’t bloody help it. I’ve never owned anything so beautiful. And don’t you dare tell me ladies don’t say bloody. There are certain times when no other word will do.”

I smiled. “We’ll discuss that later. Hurry and try on the shawl before we have to get ready to go downstairs.”

She slid the shawl over her chemise and ran to the tiny mirror on the washstand, preening until she saw every inch of the shawl that she could. The blue of it matched the soft brightness of her eyes as I’d known it would, but I hadn’t realized that it would make her red hair come even more alive with fire. She really did look beautiful in it, and really rather mature, like a woman blossoming to life from a girl, ready to give life herself. No wonder the livery boy had chased her for a kiss.

“I feel grown up now,” she said, using the silver brush.

“And you look wonderful.”

“I’m going to wear it down to breakfast. I don’t care how unseemly Mrs. Frye will think it is.”

I laughed, wishing I had brought another shawl for me to wear as well. Mrs. Frye needed something to shake her from her rigid routine.

At breakfast everyone was thrilled with Bridget’s new shawl, except Stuart. He glared angrily at Bridget and demanded to know where she’d gotten the shawl.

Bridget lifted her chin to a stubborn angle. “Not that it is any of your business, but it’s a birthday present from a very good friend.” She turned her back on him.

“Don’t wear it.” He grabbed a biscuit out of the bread basket and stomped out the door, declining to eat the meal.

I saw Bridget blink back tears. Incensed, I marched out after Stuart, who was headed toward the stables. “You had no right to ruin her present,” I shouted at his back.

He turned, glaring at me. “Did you give it to her?”

“Yes, what of it? Don’t you think she deserves something pretty?”

He came back at me, anger flaring his nostrils and turning his face red. “I don’t know what your game is, but Mary had a shawl that exact color. Would you know that?”

I blinked, shock draining the blood from my face as I scrambled to remember where the shawl had come from. I’d had it so long, I couldn’t remember, but it was possible that Aunt Lavinia had made it for me, and she could have made Mary one as well. Mouth dry, I forced my voice to work. “Why would I know that? How many blue shawls do you think exist in England?”

He didn’t say anything, but whipped around and went on to the stables, casting a dark shadow over the pink glow of the dawn.

The other servants were jovially teasing Bridget that Stuart must be jealous. She laughed at their remarks, but I could still see the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly, I saw something that had to have been in front of my face all along. Bridget harbored very strong feelings for Stuart.

I finished the drawing room in record time, but rather than going to the library to see if Bridget needed help, I located Mrs. Frye in the kitchens with Mrs. Murphy. They appeared to be working on the household accounts. “Ma’am, I’m finished early. I would like to take Rebecca to the music room for a short while, if I may?”

“We haven’t time for nonsense today.”

I stared at her a moment as I bit back hot emotion. Why was she so angry all the time? How she could be so hard?

“Now, Clara,” Mrs. Murphy interjected, “it’s not the wee one’s fault that things are they way they are, and a little music will do the lass well. Lord knows she needs a few joys in her dark world.”

“It’s doing nothing but teachin’ her to want to be what she can’t. That’s what comes of highfalutin ways. Thirty minutes,” Mrs. Frye said. “I expect you back here in thirty minutes. Then I’ll show ya how to work on the ledgers and the doors downstairs need polishing, too.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I hurried out, not wanting to waste a minute. I told Bridget where to find me when she finished, and went for Rebecca.

Nurse Tolley answered my knock, barely cracking the door open to speak. “What do you want?”

“To take Rebecca for music. I’ve thirty minutes to play for her.”

“She’s not dressed yet.” She tried to close the door.

Considering it was almost noon, I doubted her excuse. I pressed my toe against the door. “I’m sure that whatever she is wearing will be fine for her to wear to the music room. Either you let me take her now or I will have to see Miss Prudence about this.”

“You’re just like that teacher, coming here and taking things over, thinking you’re better than anyone else. It’ll lead you to an ill end as well.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Happens all the time to women who stick their neck above their station in life—they end up with it broken.” She left the door before I could respond. If eyes could bore holes, the woman’s back would have become a sieve. I couldn’t decide if she meant to shock me or if there was ill intent behind her words.

“Rebecca. It’s time for music.”

“She’s h-h-here!” Rebecca’s voice sounded like Christmas morning. I heard her careful, cane-sweeping steps and appeared at the door, wearing an emerald pinafore with a cream and lace under dress and her rag doll tucked under her arm.

I took her hand. “Ready, poppet?”

“Y-y-yes, please.”

“You look very pretty today.” I flicked a glance at the nurse. She smiled sweetly, her florid complexion like soured wine.

Dismissing the nurse, I turned my attention toward making the next thirty minutes the most fun that I could.

“What’s your most favorite thing to do, poppet?” I asked after we had situated ourselves at the piano. Rebecca had yet to join me on the bench, choosing to sit at her favorite spot near the piano leg with her doll in her lap.

“S-s-stories.”

“Then today we’ll have the musical story of Humpty Dumpty. I’ll tell the tale except for some very important parts. When I make this sound, you have to say ‘Humpty Dumpty’, and when I play this, you say ‘All the Kings horses’ and say ‘All the King’s men’ when you hear this. Can you do that?”

She shook her head.

“I think you can. Try it once and I’ll help you.” By the time we’d played it twice, Rebecca laughed as I made the sound of “All the King’s horses” racing over the piano keys. It was the first I’d heard her laugh and the sound made me silently vow to spend more time with her. I knew Mary had loved her, for I already did in so short a time.

My time with Rebecca passed too quickly. When I returned to Mrs. Frye, I learned Bridget had gone to the village to buy Miss Prudence some ribbons, leaving me to work alone on the ledgers and to polish the downstairs doors. I’d almost finished both tasks when I realized Fortune had been wagging her finger in my face for hours and I hadn’t seen it. I could easily peek into Sean’s wing under the pretense of scrubbing his doors.

Making sure I had the kitchen knife wrapped in cloth and secreted in my boot rather than my pocket, I ventured to the dragon-handled doors before I could change my mind. Once there I quietly slipped inside. The first thing I noticed was the aroma of his exotic spice lingering in the air. The corridor was dark and silent, filled with weaponry: swords and maces, pistols and lances that made the little knife in my pocket completely insignificant. At least I knew where to run should I ever have need for something deadlier.

Heavy carpets patterned with the Killdarens’ coat of arms, two fire breathing dragons facing each other, muffled my steps. I’d seen the dragon emblem in the portrait of Sean and on the carriage, and now wondered at his uncanny likeness to the strange creatures—gleaming green eyes, fire in every breath, and a fondness for dark lairs.

Wood paneled the walls and heavy, ebony curtains blocked most of the sun’s light from filtering in. Praying I wouldn’t be caught, I slowly made my way in the direction of the round room, barely breathing as I clutched my polishing rag and beeswax.

Within minutes I reached massive black doors, and my heart thumped loudly in my ears. My courage fled as I eased one of the doors open. Rather than blindly dashing into the room, I pulled out my polishing rag, dipped a little beeswax on it, and started to rub on the door while trying to peek inside. I made two swipes before my eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room. Then my mouth gaped. There had to be thousands of books, filling the floor to ceiling shelves that were only interrupted by the black, velvet-draped curtains and a wrought iron spiral staircase. In the center of the room sat a huge black-shrouded lump.

Good Lord! Was it a crypt? I squinted to see better. The light had to be coming from the glass-domed ceiling above and down through the huge hole in the center of the second floor, which was made of iron, too. Pushing the door wider, I craned my neck out more, now only polishing the air instead of the door.

“Found what you are looking for yet, lass?”

Turning back, I found Sean standing in front of me. I was inches away from polishing his male anatomy. My eyes went wide as a very clear picture of the stone Zeus flashed in my mind. “Good Lord.”

“I suppose you could thank Him.” He grabbed my wrist, his hand branding hot, and without so much as a by-your-leave, he hauled me up, imprisoning me in his arms. His green gaze glittered as he stared into my eyes and a sardonic smile slowly curved his lips. The hard muscles of his chest and thighs pressed tightly to mine, setting every nerve in my body immediately on fire. I found myself thirsting for more of his heat rather than less. “What are you doing here?”

My mouth was so dry I could hardly speak. I bit my lip and his gaze fell to my mouth. “Polishing.”

“The air?”

“The wood.”

“Almost, but not quite.” He tightened my breasts against his chest and something rigid press into my stomach. His dark hair laid brushed back from the sharp planes of his chiseled features. His eyes, though squinting hard against the sun, gleamed with fire.

“It’s daylight,” I whispered.

“And today is one of my best days. Why are you here?” he asked again, almost appearing disappointed in me. “As much as I’ve done for you, you could at least be truthful with me. These are my private quarters, and you are intruding upon my privacy without an invitation. It’s one thing if I open a door for you, lass, and another for you steal in here like a thief.”

I sucked in a breath, feeling as if he’d taken every ounce of air from me as I looked into his eyes. How would I feel if someone stole into my secrets? Intruded into the dreams I kept hidden from the world? I touched his cheek, staring into the darkness in his eyes, somehow seeing myself there. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m repaying your kindness with unkindness. I…was…curious.” Somehow while meeting his gaze, I couldn’t force out the other questions that lingered in my mind, both the important ones and the fanciful ones.
Did you harm Mary? Did you kill Helen Kennedy? Is Prudence your mistress? Is Rebecca your child?

He blinked as if surprised by my answer.

“Then let me satisfy your curiosity.” His gaze dropped to my mouth, completely absorbing itself there. My pulse leapt wildly and anticipation of something I’d yet to taste but had constantly dreamed about since I’d met him gripped my entire being. I could no more stop my lips from parting than I could have kept my blood from rushing.

I expected the soft brush of his lips and the warmth of his breath. Instead, firm lips claimed mine so passionately, I had to yield and respond or be lost. His tongue swept over mine, dueling with need, searching as if he thirsted for my very soul. Groaning, he pulled me impossibly closer, and more fire erupted between us when I met and matched the stroke of his tongue, sliding my hand from his grasp and burying my fingers into the silk of his hair.

His scent, exotically heady, filled my senses like a drugging elixir. He tore off my mob cap and slid his hand to the nape of my neck, devouring my mouth. I’d gone from knowing nothing to feeling everything in a few overwhelming moments. I pressed to him, needing more, needing to feel the hard warmth of him against me. He ran his hands up my sides and slid them over my breasts, burning them with the heat of his skin. I groaned, kissing him harder. “Please,” I whispered, desperate beneath this torture of pleasure.

Suddenly, he reared back and released me. Breathing heavily, he fisted his hands at his side so tightly his muscles shook. “Go. Leave now. I’m not my father.” His voice was low, and so desperately harsh, that I didn’t hesitate or question him, though I didn’t understand at all. I ran.

That I never once thought of the knife in my boot when Sean had been kissing me so…so passionately told me more than anything else, that I didn’t fear him, at least not when it came to my life. I had yet to determine the safety of other people’s lives. I knew without a doubt he was lethal to anything proper or decorous, for I would have let him satisfy my every curiosity at that moment.

Hearing voices in the kitchen, I skittered to a stop, taking a moment to calm myself and adjust my appearance.

Mrs. Murphy looked up from kneading dough as I dashed into the kitchen. Janet and Adele worked with her. “What ails ye, lass? Where’s yer cap?”

“I must have lost it outside. I’ll go look for it!” I said. “I’ve finished polishing the doors.”

“Ye need any help?”

I shook my head.

“Take your time. In fact, if ye can bring me several sprigs of rosemary from the spice garden nearest to the stables, I’d appreciate it.”

“Thank you.” Relieved to have a legitimate reason for being outside, I exited and dashed down the steps, fleeing away from the garden. I went in the direction of the sand dunes to the right and front of the castle. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore suited my tumultuous mood. Every nerve within me tingled with life and heat. I could feel his touch, his kiss, as if he still had me in his arms. I clutched the pheasant shell in my pocket and held onto it for dear life as I fought for breath.

Cresting a dune, I stared at the sea, drinking in the saltiness of its spray, feeling the wildness of it match the racing of my heart. The wind rushed at me, sending my mussed hair even more askew, pressing my dress tight to me, and caressing my body as softly and as firmly as Sean had. He reminded me of the sea, so powerful, so dark, I knew I’d be lost were I to enter his depths. Yet he was so beautiful, so intriguing, I couldn’t turn away.