The Ravencliff Bride (29 page)

Walking back through the bedchamber, she spied Nicholas’s dressing gown sash lying on the carpet. He’d left in such haste that he hadn’t bothered with it, and she picked it up and raised it to her nose. It held his scent. She inhaled him, taking deep, slow breaths, then looped it over her arm and was about to exit the chamber when Nero came bounding out of the south wing shadows and streaked past her into the room.

Sara closed the door, set the candle branch down, and knelt beside him. Whining, Nero stood, hackles raised, feet apart, his proud head bowed. His chest was heaving, and he panted as though he’d run his heart out. His eyes, gazing into hers, were wild feral things glowing in the halo of candleshine, and she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shaggy fur ruff.

“You didn’t do it, did you, Nero?” she moaned. “There’s not a drop of blood on you
anywhere
. Oh, I knew you didn’t! I knew you couldn’t have, and they’re going to kill you!” He licked her face with his long pink tongue, and pranced in place. “You couldn’t have cleaned yourself, either,” she said. “You haven’t been outside, have you? Your fur isn’t damp. You don’t smell of the sea”—she breathed him in—“you smell . . . of
him
. . . of your master.”

All at once, voices bled into the silence. Someone was running along the corridor outside. Sara held her breath. It was Mills, and Dr. Breeden.

“Are you sure he came this way?” Mills panted.

“No more sure than you are,” said the doctor, likewise out of breath. “He’s led us a merry chase, but I could have sworn he turned down here.”

“Her ladyship’s door’s ajar. My God, you don’t suppose . . . ?” Mills said.

“There’s only one way to find out,” said Breeden.

“Keep that pistol at the ready, but do not shoot unless you’re certain. I don’t like the look of this.”

Sara gasped. “They’re entering my suite!” she panicked. “When they don’t find me . . . !” She jumped to her feet. “We cannot stay here. Come, Nero!” But the wolf stood his ground. “You have to come
now!
” she whispered. “While they’re occupied. It’s all right, I know a place.” Still the wolf wouldn’t budge, and she tied Nicholas’s dressing gown sash around his neck, snatched up the candle branch, and dragged him out into the corridor.

It was a struggle, but she finally persuaded him to follow. Together, they ran toward the landing, down the staircase, and into the main floor north wing unseen. It was a moment before she recognized the chamber she and Nell had entered to access the secret room and the smuggler’s passageway. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, and though Nero was keeping pace with her, he was hardly resigned, balking at every turn.

“I’m trying to save your
life
,” she scolded, prodding him through the false back in the armoire. “They are both armed. Oh, God! If you could only understand me!” she moaned.

The candle branch that was left behind on her first exploration was still lying where she’d dropped it, and she set it upright on the floor beside the panel to mark her way back, and pulled Nero along. The passageway was steeped in shadow. The walls, bleeding with moisture, glistened in the candlelight as they made their way toward the tunnel.

“We’re almost there,” she panted. Her lungs were burning from gulping the stale, dank air, and she could scarcely hear the clacking of Nero’s long nails on the rough stone surface underfoot. It seemed a longer distance this time somehow, but the yawning black mouth of the tunnel finally loomed up before her, and she turned into the little alcove that sheltered the hidey-hole she’d noted when she’d explored the passageway with Nell. The door was a narrow wooden panel that swiveled in much the same manner as the one she had fallen through.
Positioned among other similar timbers along that recessed wall, it didn’t look like a door at all. It took all her strength to move it. Inside, the room was level with the entrance, but Nero hung back, straining against the tether. It was all she could do to hold him.

“No, Nero!” she snapped. “You have to go in. You’ll be safe here until I can think this through. The guards will come. They’ll never find you here.”

Still he held back, whining, pulling against her grip until she stepped inside and called him over the threshold.

“See?” she said, as he followed after her. “You can see in the dark—I know you can. I’ll bring you food and water in the morning. You must stay here until the guards are gone. I won’t let them harm you. I
won’t!
”

He seemed confused, and she took advantage of the moment to run out and slide the panel shut. Tears welled in her eyes at the sound of his muffled howl from the other side. It reminded her of the howl that had so frightened Nell. Poor Nell. She dared not think of that then, and she ran back along the passageway with that mournful howl ringing in her ears.

She reentered the house proper with ease, but she moved with caution. It was almost first light. Soon the servants would be about their morning chores—sooner than usual no doubt, considering the circumstances. It wouldn’t do to be caught wandering the halls in her nightclothes.

There was no sign of life until she reached the staircase. Then, tall shadows bleeding across the second-floor walls above soon took on human form. The footmen were fitting the sconces with fresh candles. The gloomy halls were lit day and night, the candles replenished accordingly. She couldn’t go up until the footmen moved on to the third floor, and she ducked behind the staircase and melted into the shadows to wait. It seemed an eternity before she heard their footfalls on the carpeted stairs above. Still she waited, giving them ample time to set about their tasks before tiptoeing up the staircase, and skittering to her suite.

Her foyer door was ajar just as she’d left it. Mills and Dr. Breeden must have left it as they’d found it so she wouldn’t know they’d gone inside. She glanced across the hall. The door to the green suite was open a crack also. She hadn’t thought to close it in her haste to flee with Nero earlier. She hesitated. Could Nicholas be inside? If he was, he had some explaining to do, and without hesitation she stepped over the threshold.

The first gray streamers of a feeble dawn were showing at the windows, breaking the magic spell of the night before, when for a brief moment—a blink of time’s eye—heaven had opened to her, only to shut its gates too soon. Would they ever open to her again? Not unless Baron Nicholas Walraven became willing to trust her with his heart, and all its secrets.

The suite was empty, and she stepped out into the hall again, and went to her own across the way. The rooms were in semidarkness, the fires having gone out, and she’d left no candles lit. The light of dawn wasn’t as generous on the west side of the house at that hour, and she could barely see, but the sound of motion close by stood the hairs on the back of her neck on end, and drew her scalp taut with gooseflesh.

“W-who’s th-there?” she stammered, straining the darkness with darting glances for someone to materialize.

A heavy snort that bordered on a growl replied, and she followed the sound to the glimmer of two shining eyes, and a flash of long white fangs beneath curled back lips.

“
Nero!
” she gushed. “How did you get back here?”

Mills hadn’t closed his eyes all night, nor had he left Nicholas’s sitting room in the master suite. Dr. Breeden had begun to doze, reclining on the lounge across the way. The valet didn’t have the heart to disturb him, though he should; the stiff horsehair antique wasn’t large enough to accommodate the doctor properly.

Should he go down again and look for the baroness? He’d been debating it. He was weary of body and spirit from trekking up and down the grand staircase through the night to no avail. Now dawn had broken, and there was still no sign of the baron, the baroness, or Nero, either. No one had seen any of them since the incident, and fear of another calamity had parched his throat and kept him from his slumber. He wouldn’t rest until he knew. He’d failed the father; he would not fail the son. Nicholas was like his own. Hadn’t he practically raised him since a child, when the strangeness began? Where would it end? Or had it ended already? He shuddered to wonder.

One of them should have returned by now. If not Nicholas, surely Nero would have come . . . if he could. That
worried him most of all, with everyone in residence gunning for the animal, and he shuffled back into the dressing room for another look at the staved-in door. In all his years, he had never seen the like. He had never witnessed Nero in such a taking. He had gnawed and clawed the lower panel of that door until he’d weakened it enough to crash through. It happened so quickly there had been no time to react, and they couldn’t have stopped him in any case. Nero had streaked through the suite—all but knocking them down—and then disappeared, no more than a blur, in the shadows of the staircase landing by the time they’d reached it. He had one thing and one thing only in his mind: his mate. And woe betide the soul who got between him and his purpose. They had both been wise enough not to attempt it.

Mills squatted down and fingered the broken door panel. Splinters were scattered on both sides of the door, but larger pieces littered the bedroom side where Nero had burst through. Mills glanced upward. The door was more than twice his height. It would be a mammoth undertaking to repair, let alone replace. The wood was centuries old. That mattered not to the deranged wolf that had done the damage. How was he ever going to explain this to the rest of the staff? He’d had his challenges with his master’s transformations over the years, but nothing ever to equal this. The others in the house suspected something, he was certain. How could they not. But never in a million years would they possibly imagine Baron Walraven’s secret . . . unless they came face-to-face with it, which was what the valet now feared most of all.

“I’m sorry, Mills,” said the doctor, who had crept up behind him. “Don’t reproach yourself. There was nothing either one of us could do. I couldn’t calm him, much less hold him.”

“I’d barely gotten back inside when he came crashing through this panel,” said Mills. “I could have sworn I’d closed the sitting room door behind me.”

“You did,” said the doctor. “He bit down upon that door handle until he opened it. He tried that in the dressing room, too, but I’d thrown the bolt above, and he couldn’t reach it.”

Mills gave a harsh chuckle. There was no humor in it. “Well, to comfort us at least we have the knowledge that he tried to keep the damage to a minimum,” he said, getting up stiffly. “He didn’t . . . you haven’t been bitten?” he asked.

“No,” said the doctor. “He wasn’t interested in me, though I will admit I didn’t give him a chance to be. I have never seen anything like that in all my years of researching such phenomena. What could have happened to set him off like that? His lady was in no danger—at least, not then. Have you found her?”

“No, and his lordship should have returned by now, in one incarnation or another. I’m worried, Dr. Breeden. I’ve been up and down those stairs all night. I cannot imagine why one of them hasn’t surfaced by now. I daren’t alert the others to help in the search. They aren’t aware, and we cannot wait any longer. We cannot leave the girl lying dead in the second-floor hallway indefinitely. It’s unthinkable that she’s been left there disrespected like that this long, and we mustn’t move her until we’ve had the guards in. I haven’t the authority to send for them—none of us does. In his lordship’s absence, the next in line for dealing with house emergencies would be her ladyship, and she’s gone missing as well. We’ve got to find her.”

“Does the abigail have family?” said Breeden.

“No, and that’s one blessing, at least, but it doesn’t negate the seriousness of the situation. All below stairs are that girl’s family, Doctor, and have been since she joined the staff ten years ago. They will want justice for what’s happened, and we all know what that means. While we both know he’s innocent, Nero’s life is forfeit here now. Why hasn’t he made the transformation back? I cannot understand it.”

“How long does it normally take for him to transform when he’s this overset?” Breeden queried.

“That’s just it—I have never seen him this overset. If anger or upsetment causes the change, he runs off that energy until he’s calmed, and then becomes himself again. When aroused, it often takes longer. We don’t know exactly what set him off this time, but whatever it was, judging by the way he came tearing in here, it’s nearly driven him mad. As long as he stays so, he will remain as he is. The hellish thing is, whatever that might be, he needs to be himself to solve it. He cannot do it as the wolf.”

“Then we’ve got our work cut out for us, Mills,” said the doctor. “I thought as much, when animal magnetism had no effect upon him in wolf form. We need to have him back, so I can work on him in his human incarnation. Where shall we begin? I suppose I ought to examine the girl. I shall be able to help with that when the guards come, without damning wolf or master. You can count upon it.”

“No, not yet,” said Mills. His tired mind was racing. Nothing seemed real anymore, except the premonition of impending doom that had gripped his heart like a vise. “One of us should remain here until his lordship returns,” he decided. “I’d best go below and see if her ladyship has gone back to her rooms first. We must send for the guards. Then, I shall keep watch here while you examine the . . . body.” He looked the doctor in the eyes. “I am so sorry that all of this has been put upon you, Dr. Breeden,” he said, gesturing to encompass the entire circumstance.

“Nonsense,” said the doctor. “This is just the sort of thing that normally fuels my passion. Though, I wish it weren’t happening to those I have grown fond of. It’s rather difficult in these circumstances to look at all this with a clinical eye.”

“I shan’t be long,” said Mills, walking back through the bedroom.

“Have you got your pistol?” the doctor called after him.

“I’d be loath to use it,” said Mills. “But yes.”

Sara backed steadily away from the snarling animal in her foyer. Was he out of sorts because she’d locked him in the alcove chamber? How did he get out? He’d lost the dressing gown sash she’d used for a leash, and it didn’t seem likely that he would follow her without one in his present humor. He couldn’t escape. She’d closed the foyer door this time.