Touch of Passion (31 page)

Worse than his stubbornness was the fact that Lord Perham had firmly instructed all the servants that they weren't to deliver any of the notes Loris penned to warn Malachi, Dyfed, and Niclas about Tauron Cadmaran's presence in Town. This she had learned from Elen, who had been stopped from leaving the house as well.

Loris had no choice but to do as her grandfather wished and accompany Lord Brecmont through the park. She would be safe enough, she knew, for he could scarce harm her in so public a place. And tonight, at Lord and Lady Hamlin's ball, Loris would be able to tell Malachi what had taken place. He'd make certain that Viscount Brecmont was appropriately dealt with.

“I hope you'll not take it amiss if I compliment you on your appearance, Miss McClendon,” Lord Brecmont said politely after they had driven in stony silence for the first half hour. “I realize you had no desire to be in company with me, but I confess myself to be the most fortunate man in London, regardless. I have the distinction, or so I hear, of being the first apart from your grandfather and the Seymours to take the beautiful granddaughter of Lord Perham driving.”

“I think I should warn you, sir,” Loris said coldly, “that I am not possessed of the manners you're used to finding in society. Which I'm sure you're already well aware of, for if you haven't heard about my lack of refinement from all the gossips in London, then my behavior earlier this afternoon will surely have informed you. Apart from that, I don't have any desire to engage in polite conversation with you. It would be perfectly ridiculous, considering that we both know exactly who the other is. I may not be a Seymour by blood, sir, but Ffinian Seymour has been as much a father to me as if I were, in truth, his own daughter. Tylluan is my home, and I love it as dearly as any Seymour who ever drew breath. The Cadmarans have done everything possible to bring harm and destruction to that home. In my eyes, Lord Brecmont, that puts us very much at odds.” She nodded at a passing acquaintance, striving to paste a smile on her lips. “And,” she went on, “I'm sure you realize that Malachi will be furious when he realizes that you've used your friendship with my grandfather to be in company with me.”

“Yes, I suppose he will be,” her companion confessed. “And I do apologize for using my acquaintance with Lord Perham in order to meet you, Miss McClendon. I wished to speak with you, and was quite certain there were topics that you'd rather he not overhear. He's not one of our sympathetics, after all.”

“Is that
all
you used?” she asked tautly. “His acquaintance? I had the distinct impression that you were exerting another sort of influence on him this afternoon in order to get your way.”

“Magic, do you mean?” Lord Brecmont asked. “I suppose that would be a natural assumption.”

“Especially in dealing with a Cadmaran,” she said. “What are your powers, precisely? I assume you're a greater wizard, for very few among your clan are born lesser.”

“Very true,” he admitted. “However, you find yourself in company with one of those few. I am not a greater wizard, Miss McClendon, and possess but one gift, which is neither
the gift of persuasion nor of charming mere mortals to do my bidding. You may rest easy regarding my ability to wreak havoc on those you love.”

Loris turned her head to look at him for the first time since they'd left her grandfather's town house.

“I don't believe you,” she said. “Morcar Cadmaran has done everything possible to rid his family of lesser wizards. If you are one, he would have cast you out by now.”

Lord Brecmont's handsome countenance tightened. “He would have done so, save my particular gift is valuable to him. To all the Cadmarans. It is the power of . . . transmutation.” He said the word softly, making it sound like a shameful confession.

Loris blinked at him. “I see,” she said. “I didn't realize there was such a gift. No one that I know of among the Seymours has ever been capable of turning common metals into gold.”

“I wish it were just that,” he said, sighing. “Performing mere alchemy would be bad enough, but I have the ability to change almost any simple element into something more complex, and to the reverse, as well.”

“Ah.” Loris gave a nod of understanding. “Water into wine. Wine into medicine. Or medicine back to water. Like that?”

He nodded. “It sounds wonderful, does it not? And perhaps it would be, in the hands of one of the other families. But mine is an ill-gained power, conceived after centuries of using dark magic. I was unfortunate to be the one cursed with it.”

Loris gazed at him curiously. “I should think a Cadmaran would find such tremendous power a wonderful thing.”

“Only those who don't possess it would,” he said. “I would give my soul to be rid of it. Or to not be a Cadmaran and forced to use it for dark purposes. Wine can just as easily be turned into poison, you see. The crops of your enemies can be changed into weeds, and a harmless hammer into a deadly sword. You'll not believe me when I say this, but I don't enjoy dark magic as other Cadmarans do.”

Loris could only imagine how the Earl of Llew had made use of his cousin. No wonder the Cadmarans were so endlessly wealthy, though none of their estates were put to use for either farming or raising cattle.

“I don't know you well enough to believe you,” she told him. “But, then, I don't truly know the Cadmarans well, save from what I've heard—none of it good, by the way. You're the first actual Cadmaran I've ever met.”

“You've been fortunate, then. What you've heard, what you've been told, is all true.”

“You speak so ill of your own family that I can't help but wonder why. Surely they've treated you well, considering what you can do for them.”

“You truly don't know the Cadmarans if you can say such a thing,” he said bitterly. “Forgive me for speaking to you so bluntly, Miss McClendon.”

She smiled. “I prefer it, I assure you, to what you started with. I'm growing full weary of the pretty speeches most noblemen make.”

He smiled, too, relaxing a little. “I had heard you were rather out of the ordinary, Miss McClendon, and not merely in the way of beauty. I'm surprised that we've never met before now. I'm acquainted with the Tylluan Seymours. Kian and Dyfed and I used to tumble about together when we were boys, during gatherings of the Families.”

Loris knew what it was he spoke of. Every five years the magical Families came together for a full week at one of their large estates to discuss matters of import to their kind and to make agreements and pacts. Even those clans who practiced dark magic attended. She had never gone to those gatherings that had occurred while she'd lived at Tylluan, but Kian had told her they were enormously entertaining affairs, especially for the children, who had the chance of meeting others of their kind who seldom would have crossed their paths otherwise.

“I knew of you, of course,” Lord Brecmont went on. “Word spread about Ffinian adopting a ward from London's . . . ah . . .”

“Gutters,” she supplied. “Or slums. It's perfectly true, so you may as well use the appropriate word. It's just what I told Lady Springhill when she was having difficulty making herself plain while introducing me to an acquaintance at Almack's.”

Loris smiled at the memory. The vicious woman had been trying to insult her in the kindest possible way but had looked near to fainting once Loris corrected her. Malachi, who'd appeared out of nowhere, as he so often did, had been about to make a remark to Lady Springhill himself—probably far more cutting than what Loris said. Instead, he'd been obliged to choke back an unrefined fit of laughter and walk away even without excusing himself. The next day he'd sent Loris a diamond bracelet and a stunning arrangement of flowers with a note thanking her for a most entertaining evening.

“From one of London's less savory neighborhoods,” Viscount Brecmont supplied nobly. “But as you never left Tylluan after taking up residence there, and only Seymours visited the estate from among those in the Families, no one knew much about you. And then when I came to London and heard you were here and causing such a stir, I wished to make your acquaintance. Fortunate for me, my friend Lord Perham made the suggestion even before I could make the request”

Lord Brecmont hadn't heard about the supposed
unoliaeth
that existed between Kian and herself or, it seemed, about the effects of the blood curse.

“Why did you wish to speak to me alone?” Loris asked, nodding as yet another acquaintance rode past.

“Perhaps because I was lonely and desired the company of a beautiful woman?” the viscount suggested.

She gave a laugh. “I should think a woman connected to the Seymours would be the last female on earth you'd wish to spend time with.”

“But you're not a Seymour,” he told her. “And you are one of our sympathetics. The only one, as it happens, that I have yet discovered this Season. I can speak freely with you. Being among mere mortals for weeks on end, having to be so
careful of what one says or does, is most wearying. And lonely as well. None of my relatives have come to Town this year—not yet, at least, as they all appear to be waiting for an announcement of great importance from the Earl of Llew.”

Loris stiffened. “An announcement?”

“Yes, something that will require as many as can to assemble in London, so it must be in the nature of something celebratory. Perhaps he's found the way to lift the curse that was set upon him, and thus be rid of his blindness. I hope that's so, for although we don't agree on many things, I should think it a terrible thing to be blind.”

“Yes,” she murmured, thinking of what a dangerous combination London and a large contingent of Cadmarans would be. How was it possible for them to keep mere mortals from discovering about their magic with so many of them about? The other magical Families were always careful to keep large gatherings on their own private estates, away from prying eyes. “I think so, too.”

“And so, having been forewarned,” he went on, “I decided to come to Town at once to enjoy whatever time I could before a host of Cadmarans take up residence and force me to attend their family assemblies.”

At that moment they were hailed by two gentlemen on horseback who were friends of Lord Brecmont's. He politely introduced them to Loris, who endured their flattery with patience. One of them asked if she would be attending the Hamlin ball and, hearing her answer, boldly asked if she would save a dance for him.

“I fear you're too late, Duncan,” Lord Brecmont replied before Loris could open her mouth. “Miss McClendon's already been spoken for for the entire evening. Perhaps you'll have better fortune next time.”

“Thank you,” she murmured as they drove on. “I shouldn't wish to be rude, but between the Seymours and my grandfather, I have few opportunities to dance with others. And even when I do, I must confess that I sometimes find it tiring. I have no conversation, as you've discovered.”

“I think your conversation enchanting,” Lord Brecmont said, adding, quickly, “and I'm not simply being polite. I mean it truthfully. And my motive in putting off my friends was far more selfish than noble.” He glanced at her. “I was hoping you'd save a dance for me.”

Loris frowned. “I don't think Malachi or Dyfed or Niclas would be very happy about it.”

“But your grandfather would be ecstatic,” Lord Brecmont coaxed. “And I would be more than grateful. You're very likely one of the few females in all of London who understand what it's like to be of my kind. I can be at ease with you.”

Loris knew what he meant. She felt like a fish out of water, too. And she realized that at some point while they'd been driving, she'd come to believe what he had told her. He wasn't like other Cadmarans.

“Very well,” she said. “But you must prepare yourself for the anger of the Seymour men.”

He laughed. “I have a lifetime of experience dodging the displeasure of both Cadmarans and Seymours, Miss McClendon. I've become very adept at it.”

The beast was growing stronger. And more dangerous. Desdemona Caslin was finding the
athanc
harder to control, and Kian wasn't able to bring enough animals to the clearing each night to sate the beast's hunger. All of the livestock at Tylluan had been destroyed, and he was obliged to buy sheep from farther and farther away—having already purchased all those that were nearer—and it took more time to herd the animals to the clearing than they had the luxury of.

The
athanc
was wandering across Tylluan's borders now in search of food, ignoring Desdemona's commands until its belly was filled and wreaking havoc on local farms.

The farmers were understandably upset and had come to Kian to make a formal complaint.

“We know the creature has come from here, Lord Tylluan,” Edwart Hollis said, angrily jabbing a finger in the air. “And we know that it's you who've been feeding it.”

“We don't wish to be rude, sir,” put in Ianto Weist, “for we've been glad to have the luck that your kind bring us, especially with the fair folk, and we've always kept quiet to those outside, and happy we've been to do it. But we want a stop to it, my lord, else we've no choice but to bring in the authorities.”

“You must understand, m'lord,” said Moris ap Pugh, twisting his hat nervously in both hands, “I've lost all my animals, even the young ones. I've nothing for market and nothing to start anew with.”

“I understand, of course,” Kian assured them. “I'm doing everything I can to rid us of the creature, and when I have I promise you'll be repaid for what's been destroyed. The animals will be replaced and the damaged buildings repaired. I'll make certain that your families don't suffer because of what you've lost.”

“That's fine as it is, my lord,” Ianto said, “but what if you can't stop the beast? I saw it last night with my own eyes. It's a great, wild monster, sir, and not likely to be stopped even by your magic ways.”