Solstice at Stonewylde (45 page)

‘Oh Sylvie, I’m so sorry for mistreating you, my lovely girl. I’ve been brutal – Clip always says I go too far and he’s right. But I’m not a bad person, not deep down inside. You must help me develop my better nature and overcome my darkness.’

To her horror he bent to kiss her lips. She jerked back, every muscle in her body screaming resistance, but he held her firmly. He put one hand behind her head, bringing her face inexorably towards his. The thick diamond collar dug deeper into her throat and neck, cutting into her skin so she couldn’t twist her head away. Magus’ eyes gleamed as he closed in and then she felt his mouth move on hers, his lips firm and insistent, his tongue adamant. She struggled, trying to pull away from his hungry, invasive kiss. Relief flooded through her as the buzz of the dumb
waiter signalled the arrival of breakfast. With another groan he pulled back and smiled ruefully, his eyes heavy-lidded and glazed.

‘We’ll continue that later on. I’ve held back for far too long and Goddess knows why – you’re clearly a beautiful woman now and no longer a girl. But you’re hungry, my darling, and I must feed you. Go and sit down and I’ll bring breakfast over.’

He served her at the table, waiting on her hand and foot, piling food onto her plate from the silver serving dishes. Sylvie enjoyed her cooked breakfast, the first proper meal she’d had for a long time, all thoughts of the kiss pushed to the back of her mind. She sat in her black silk pyjamas, blond hair everywhere and diamonds sparkling, and tucked in to her food hungrily. Then she soaked in the bath he’d run and felt a great deal better than she had for ages.

As she lay in the bubbling black marble tub, the truth dawned. Of course – it was the Moon Fullness tonight and Magus wanted her able to cope with the ordeal that awaited her on the moon rock. All this thoughtfulness and attention was just to make her a little stronger, which negated any apparent kindness; he was simply being his usual calculating self. But Sylvie knew it wasn’t for much longer, and that thought gave her courage – just a few more hours to endure and then she’d be free.

Professor Siskin watched the countryside roll past the window of his first-class carriage. A modest suitcase and precious computer bag were his only luggage and the latter now sat on his knees as he gazed out of the window, unable to concentrate on his work. Since receiving the e-mail from Sylvie yesterday, he’d been desperately excited. He hadn’t spent the Winter Solstice at Stonewylde since Sol became magus many years ago.

He muttered to himself and received odd looks from other passengers, but the old professor was oblivious. He was going home! Sylvie was such a lovely girl, kind and caring and passionate in her love of Stonewylde. Of course she was Clip’s daughter – it was so obvious once you knew. Who’d have thought Clip would ever father a child and produce an heir? As for Yul
… Siskin pulled out his photo of the boy and felt that thrill of recognition all over again. He knew he was looking at the Green Man, whose return to Stonewylde would ensure that all would be well and all would prosper. The magus and the moongazy girl, the Green Man and the May Queen, the Earth Magic and the moon magic, Yul and Sylvie. Stonewylde hadn’t had anything like this for a long time, not for centuries, in fact. The good times were about to begin and Siskin smiled joyfully in the knowledge that he’d be there, in his beloved home, to herald the dawn of the new magus and the return of the sun.

When Sylvie returned to the sitting room from her bath, she found the fire had been re-laid and was now blazing in the great hearth. The room had been cleaned too; she smelt the beeswax polish and the carpet looked freshly vacuumed. Magus was at his desk working as usual, and looked up as she entered.

‘Refreshing bath? Sit down and I’ll dry your hair for you.’

Her heart sank. This involved him fiddling about with her hair and her neck, and after the attempted kiss this morning she was scared of him. She could tell he was unstable at the moment, balancing on a knife-edge of normality but capable of going completely over with minimal provocation. He was terrifying today, with a desperation in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. He must know that tonight he could be finished – so today he may feel he’d nothing to lose.

Sylvie found her large comb and sat on a cushion in front of the sofa, the fire’s heat blasting at her. She crossed her legs, tucking her bare feet beneath her, and straightened her back. Magus came and sat on the sofa behind her, teasing out the long strands of hair that fell down her back like a jumble of wet string. His fingers were gentle and he seemed calm enough, and Sylvie started to relax. The fire made her cheeks flush but it was also drying her hair quickly, so he’d have to release her soon.

She was just beginning to feel safe when she noticed her book. The servant who’d cleaned the room must’ve picked it up, after Magus had kicked it across the room yesterday, and it now lay
on a small table in direct view of the sofa. Where was the photo? Given Magus’ present volatility, the sight of Yul might tip him over. She realised he was talking to her and dragged her attention back to him.

‘I’d like to buy you a horse in the spring,’ he was saying. ‘I’ll teach you to ride, and then we can travel all over Stonewylde together. You said you liked horses, didn’t you?’

‘Yes,’ she said quickly, thinking of her strange ride with Yul on the milk-white horse through the misty woods full of red toadstools. ‘I’ve always wanted to learn to ride.’

‘I’ll buy you a beautiful horse,’ he said. ‘A really gentle, but intelligent, mare. I suspect you’ll be a natural.’

His fingers raked through her hair onto her scalp, massaging her with a confident touch.

‘And we’ll go abroad too, as I promised, wherever you want to go. You can swim in the clearest, warmest waters and I’ll enjoy showing you the wonders and beauties of the world.’

She didn’t know how to respond to this, so kept quiet. He scooped up all her hair into one handful and raised it from her neck. He touched the heavy diamond choker, and gently traced where it chafed her skin.

‘Is this sore? Does it rub?’

‘Yes, all the time. It cuts into me and hurts when I’m trying to sleep.’

‘Oh well, I’m sure you’ll get used to it. It’s like a new saddle or bridle on a horse – always rubs a bit at first while it’s being broken in.’

His long fingers slid around the choker, caressing her neck and throat. She held her breath, desperately hoping he’d be distracted by something and stop. His thumbs began to massage the back of her neck, moving to her shoulders. Sylvie knew she must get out of this situation fast. She pulled away slightly and pretended to cough. He stopped and waited until she’d finished, then reached forward and cupped a hand under her chin.

Magus tipped her head right back against the sofa so that she was looking backwards, her throat arched and fully extended,
right into his upside down face. He looked almost demonic. His dark eyes gleamed with that black light and his smile was strange. He traced her feathery eyebrows and stroked her jaw line, and she noticed the muscle in his cheek twitching.

‘You’re mine,’ he said thickly. ‘My own moongazy girl, so special and magical. Nobody else will ever have you, Sylvie – you belong to me.’

His fingers slid to the choker on her arched throat, now biting into her windpipe. He caressed the delicate skin, tenderly feeling the chafing.

‘Sylvie,’ he groaned, ‘what’ve you done to me? I’ve never felt like this before – it’s so much deeper than simply wanting you. You’re the only woman in the world who can give me what I need and you’ve no idea the torment I’m going through. Today … today it’s more powerful than ever, maybe because of the full moon tonight. I’m on fire today.’

With a swift movement Magus rose from the sofa and stood before her on the hearth. He bent and took her hands in his, pulling her upright. The diamond cuffs glittered on her wrists, and her hair, now dry and silky, cascaded over her shoulders in a wild silver mass. He stood in front of her, holding her hands loosely in his, gazing at her. Her cheeks were flushed from the fire and her eyes bright as she watched him fearfully, petrified of what was coming next. His breathing was heavy and she recognised that expression in his eyes; she’d seen it in Yul too. Magus started to close in and she edged backwards, trying to get away. He tugged and she pulled back, shaking her head, her eyes wide with fear.

‘Sylvie, please …’

‘No!’

‘I love you, Sylvie. I never thought I’d say those words, but I do.’

‘You don’t love me! If you loved me you wouldn’t treat me like this. You’ve been so cruel to me!’

‘I’ve only been cruel
because
I love you. It’s so strong it hurts, and it makes me want to hurt you in return. You torture me with
your coldness and indifference … if you’d just show me some warmth, some gratitude for everything I’ve given you. Look at you! You’re dripping with my diamonds; they’re worth thousands of pounds. Any other girl would die for those diamonds.’

‘I hate them! They’re cold, and they cut into me and hurt me, like you do. I don’t want your love, Magus. Your love is selfish and cruel, and—’

‘Come here, Sylvie, and let me kiss you properly. You’re so innocent; you don’t know anything and I know all there is to know. Wait until I’ve shown you what making love is all about. When you’ve flown and touched the stars, then tell me you don’t want my love. Come here, Sylvie!’

He tugged so sharply she stumbled into him, and he wrapped his arms fiercely around her, crushing her attempts to struggle from his grasp. She closed her eyes, praying desperately for a miracle to save her. She knew his steely determination to have his own way, and she also knew of his legendary passion, his need for women. He’d hardly left the room for days and he must be ready to explode. Nothing she said or did would make any difference. She could feel just how he craved her, trembling as he held her close. He bent his head to kiss her, his eyes boring into hers.

The intercom buzzed sharply once and then again, insistently. Sylvie felt him tense like a coil.

‘Bloody hell!’

Magus strode over to the phone on his desk, practically ripping it from the connection.

‘This had better be bloody important!’ he snarled, face scarlet with anger. ‘What? Oh, yes, we’ll be down, Martin – I’d forgotten. Give them all some more mead and wait for us – we’ll be ten minutes.’

He slammed down the receiver and glared at Sylvie as if it were her fault.

‘We’re eating lunch downstairs today. I hadn’t realised it was so late so go and get dressed quickly. And put make-up on too – I want you to look especially beautiful today. Be quick, girl!’

Gratefully, Sylvie slipped past him and through all the rooms to get to her bedroom. A dress of midnight-blue crêpe de Chine lay on the bed and a pair of elegant high-heeled shoes had been put out too – Sylvie knew she was to be displayed again in front of the Hallfolk, exactly as he’d tried to do in the Galleried Hall. He’d even chosen underwear for her and she felt resentment boiling up inside. How did he think anyone could bear to live like this, with every detail controlled by him? But no time for rebellion now – and none of this would matter soon anyway. Tugging off her black pyjamas she slipped into the ivory silk underwear, quickly rolled the fine stockings up her long legs, and then stepped into the beautiful dress. She could hear Magus coming through the connecting chambers and struggled frantically with the zipper to fasten it before he came in. She quickly moved away from the untouched bed and sat on the stool before the dressing table, snatching up her mascara with a shaking hand.

‘Hurry up, Sylvie!’ he said. ‘They’re all waiting for us in the Dining Hall.’

He stood behind her as she caught up her mass of hair in a pretty clasp at the back of her head. Then she applied some make-up and he watched her movements as if mesmerised, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror. She rose and slipped her feet into the high-heeled shoes, transforming instantly into an elegant young woman whose eyes were almost level with his. His gaze swept down the length of her, noting the skin tight fit of the dress and the way it accentuated her model’s figure, the hemline brushing her slim calves. The diamonds at her throat and wrists glittered, and with her hair up, she looked every inch the sophisticated ingénue. He smiled, his eyes still burning with desire, and ran his hand down the side of her ribs and into the hollow of her tiny waist.

‘Perfect! Now come on – we’re very late.’

He took her hand and led her down the wide staircase to the great Dining Hall where all the Hallfolk were gathered for lunch. The huge room was packed full with extra visitors but the noisy
chatter fell silent when they entered. Sylvie held his arm as she’d been ordered as they swept in together, and Magus smiled graciously around him, greeting people and nodding. Sylvie remained silent and impassive, keeping her eyes fixed ahead; she wasn’t going to pretend she was enjoying this.

Magus led her up the long length of the room to the head of the high table, where an extra place had been laid next to his. He seated her attentively, fussing over her, his message to the Hallfolk very clear. Sylvie refused wine or mead and he couldn’t force her to drink in front of everyone. When lunch was served she ate each course hungrily, uncaring of people’s surprised stares as she wolfed down the food. She felt all eyes on her; the people she knew, and many visitors who hadn’t seen her before, or barely recognised her as the young newcomer from earlier in the year. Of her mother and Clip, there was no sign at all.