Touch of Passion (41 page)

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Authors: Susan Spencer Paul

BOOK: Touch of Passion
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“Dear heavens,” said Malachi, “must you insist upon using such descriptive phrases regarding your wife's hand? It conjures up the most repulsive pictures, and she appears to be perfectly content and, what's more, quite dry. Now, come out into the hall and we shall find a place more private for discussion.”

“I'm not leaving Loris alone with these . . . these . . .”

“I'll stay,” Niclas promised, relaxing against the wall and folding his arms across his chest. “I perceive that this has something more to do with Kian than with me. You go with Malachi and Brecmont”—he nodded Kian toward the curtains—“and find out what's amiss, and tell me afterward. I promise that no harm will come to Lady Tylluan.”

Kian cast a glance back to where Loris was laughing at something that one of her admirers had said to her.

“But—”

“The first man who crosses the line goes over the balcony,” Niclas promised, and Kian comforted himself with the fact that his muscular cousin wouldn't have any difficulty performing such a task.

“Over the balcony,” Kian repeated firmly.

“Straight over,” Niclas vowed.

“Very well then.” Kian tugged at the ends of his sleeves and, casting a last worried glance back at Loris, followed Lord Graymar through the curtains.

When Loris awoke the following afternoon, having slept through the morning, it was to find a folded letter lying on the pillow beside her head, with a single rose atop.

She smiled, supposing it to be a love letter from Kian, and gently fingered the flower's aromatic pink petals. What a wonderful day, and night, yesterday had been. She had enjoyed shopping before, but Kian made it far more pleasant, and the theater—she'd spent so much time talking with all the guests who made their way into the Seymours' box that she could scarce remember what had been performed on the stage.

And then afterward, in the early morning hours, when Kian had brought her home and escorted her up the stairs to her bedchamber . . . She smiled, thinking of it. He had sent Elen to bed and acted as Loris's maid, slowly undressing her, bit by bit, careful not to touch too long, but long enough to leave her skin tingling with pleasure. He had kissed her as well, more deeply, a bit longer, always withdrawing before
the pain could start. Then he'd let her undress him and they had taken turns touching. Loris hadn't reached that same mindless pleasure that he had taken her to once before, that she took him to again, but it had been far more than she had hoped they would be able to share, at least until the curse was gone.

And then Kian had lain beside Loris, as he had done the night before, and watched until she'd fallen to sleep. She had tried to remain awake, too, but the activities of the long day and night had left her too weary to compete with a man who appeared not to be tired at all. The last thing she remembered was the feeling of his lips upon the top of her head, against her hair, and his voice, low and murmuring, telling her that he loved her. Loris had slid into contented and pleasant dreams and slept.

A knock came at the door and Jane's capped head peeked in. “Ah, you're awake, my lady,” she said pleasantly, pushing her way into the room. “I have a tray for you, fresh from the kitchen, with a nice hot cup of chocolate and some warm tarts. I hope you had a pleasant sleep?” She set the tray on the bed as Loris sat upright.

“I did, thank you.” Loris pushed her unbraided hair out of her face before picking up the rose and letter and setting them on the tray. “Is Lord Tylluan yet abed?” She nodded toward the adjoining door.

Jane's expression dimmed slightly, and she gave her attention to arranging the small plates on the tray. “Oh no, my lady. His Lordship has already left. He was on his way quite early this morning.”

“Was he?” Loris tilted her head questioningly. “That's odd. I know he must have been weary from such a late evening. Did he say where he was going?” She imagined he had made arrangements to meet Niclas or Dyfed or even Lord Graymar for a ride in the park.

“I'm afraid I can't say, my lady,” Jane replied, and a look of unease crossed her features.

Loris looked at the maid more closely. “Can't say because you don't know,” Loris queried, “or because you've been told not to?”

Jane looked up at Loris at last, and she knew the answer without having to hear it.

“Where has he gone, Jane?”

The other woman straightened and took a step away from the bed. She shook her head regretfully.

“I'm sorry, Lady Tylluan. I'm not to say. Shall I come back in a few minutes to help you dress?”

Loris calmed herself. It wouldn't be right to make Jane uncomfortable simply for fulfilling Kian's instructions.

“Yes. Take this tray away and then come back to me at once. I wish to dress as soon as possible.”

She snatched up the missive Kian had left for her as Jane moved to do her bidding, and was reading it before the maid closed the chamber door.

Darling Loris
, it began, I
know that you'll be very angry when you know that I've returned to Tylluan
—

“Tylluan!”

She stared at the letter in disbelief, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. He'd gone home without her?

—
but I want you to know as well that I've not broken my promise to you. I said that I would not stop you from returning to Tylluan, and I'll not. Yet I cannot bring you back with me, for the danger is greater than before. It seems that Desdemona Caslin no longer controls the creature, which leads me to believe that Cadmaran has discovered her defection. I fear greatly for her safety, even for her life. Without her help the
athanc
has been left to run wild. An express arrived from Horas, detailing the damage that has been done in my absence. The beast has attacked with greater ferocity, and some of the villagers were fortunate to get away with their lives. Many have been wounded. I must leave at once to stop our troubles once and for all
.

But there is more. Tauron Cadmaran ran into Dyfed some hours following our wedding and, in an attempt to
congratulate him upon his brother's marriage, made the foolish error of relating Lord Llew's intention to wed, a fact he had only just discovered, himself, having had word from Lord Llew about the impending nuptials. Dyfed asked to whom—

“Oh no,” she murmured. “Oh, Dyfed.”

—
and Tauron unwittingly told him that it was Miss Caslin. Dyfed flew into a rage and left for Tylluan at once, vowing that he would get her away from Lord Llew by force, if he must. Of course, he must be stopped and brought to his senses. I'll be fortunate if I manage to arrive only shortly before he does, even with the use of quick traveling. I imagine Dyfed's ridden without stopping since leaving the day before yesterday, save to change horses, and I fear that he may head straight for Llew
.

“He'll be tired,” Loris said, thinking with dismay of what Morcar Cadmaran might do to Dyfed, who would be defenseless against so powerful a wizard. “And out of his senses over that woman. You've got to find a way to stop him.”

Malachi goes with me, and is bringing Tauron along as well. Brecmont has offered to help us thwart his cousin in the matter of the
athanc,
also to help us get Miss Caslin out of Castle Llew, if Malachi will in turn help him to escape England and the Cadmarans. I have my doubts about Tauron's trustworthiness, for it's rare that our kind will betray a family member, but Malachi believes him and I'm too pressed just now to argue the matter. I confess it will be far easier for Brecmont to gain access to Llew, and to garner Morcar's trust
.

“You're going to be surprised by Tauron,” Loris told him, despite his inability to hear the words. “He's not like his cousin.”

Stay in London, Loris. If you find a way to come to Tylluan, I'll not turn you away. I told you that it belongs to you, that you have the right to come and go as you please, and that is even more true now than when I said the words. But don't come. I cannot worry about the beast and you all at
once. I'll return for you as soon as the
athanc
has been dealt with
.

Stay in London and enjoy what's left of the Season. Redecorate the town house and make a home of it. Niclas and Julia and your grandfather remain to take care of you and to lend you company. I'll come as soon as I can
.

She lowered the letter to her lap and gazed at the fire across the room.

Now what should she do? He had asked her, again, and in a manner that she found difficult to ignore, to stay in London and let him deal with the troubles alone. An obedient wife would . . . well, obey. But Loris wasn't particularly obedient, and her heart told her that she should be at Tylluan. Kian needed her.

She was still pondering the problem when Jane returned to help her dress and afterward as she paced in the study, letter in hand. She had reread it several times through, at turns worried and irate.

How could Kian have left without telling her, without even waking her to explain himself and say good-bye? She recalled Malachi and Tauron appearing unexpectedly at the theater and realized that Kian must have known well before they returned home that he would be sneaking out. He hadn't wanted her to argue, of course, or to talk him into taking her with him. So he'd been a coward and left a letter and departed before dawn to make certain she'd be fully asleep.

Stay in London . . . I cannot worry about the beast and you all at once
.

“Drat the man,” she murmured. “Why must he make the appeal so difficult to counter? I feel guilty even thinking of going.”

She heard raised voices in the entry way and stopped pacing. Abercraf's voice was easily recognizable, but the other one—quite loud and excited—was only vaguely familiar. Moving to open the door, she found Abercraf in the hallway, engaged in a heated conversation with a somewhat portly, older gentleman.

“I must speak to Lord Tylluan at once,” the gentleman insisted. “At once!”

“Professor Seabolt.” Loris moved into the hall. “Sir, what can be the matter?”

“Lady Tylluan!” Professor Seabolt said with relief, removing his hat and shoving it into Abercraf's hands. “My lady, forgive this unexpected visit, but I must speak with your husband. Please tell me if he's at home or, if not, where he's gone to.”

“I'm sorry, Professor,” she said. “Kian has returned to Tylluan. His brother and Lord Graymar have gone as well.”

She did not know Professor Seabolt well, having only met him twice, once at her come-out ball and once at her wedding breakfast, but she recognized his complete despair all the same.

“Please come in”—she motioned toward the study's open doorway—“and Abercraf will bring some tea. Perhaps there's something I can do to help?”

“No, no.” He shook his head. “I have to get word to them, somehow. And as quickly as possible. It is a matter most urgent, my lady.”

Loris took a step nearer and looked at him very closely.

“You've found the enchantment for the
athanc
, have you not, sir?”

“Yes, at last!” he said eagerly. “But how am I to get it to them if they've all gone?” He paused a moment, then said, “Niclas Seymour! He's not gone away, has he?”

“I do not know,” she said, and when the professor turned about to take his hat from Abercraf, who was hovering in the background, she set a hand on his arm and held him fast. “But I'll not let you try to find him until you've given me the remedy, first.”

Professor Seabolt looked at her with impatience. “But it cannot wait, Lady Tylluan. I must make certain the news is on its way at once.”

“It will be,” she vowed. “Come into the study,” she said firmly, getting a good grip on him and guiding him inside
the room. “Abercraf, please arrange for a hack and ask Jane to fetch my cloak and gloves. And send a message to your master, asking him to be so good as to forbear going out for the afternoon. Pray God he hasn't already done so.”

She pushed the professor into the room and stood in the doorway to keep him from getting back out.

“And if he has gone out,” she went on, glancing at Abercraf, who stood ready to spring away at once, “tell Julia that he must be fetched back at all costs, and as quickly as possible. Professor Seabolt and I will be leaving for Cousin Niclas's town house in but a few minutes.”

Twenty~three

Niclas Seymour stared at his excited guests, who were both speaking to him at the same time, for a patient moment, then raised his hands to silence them.

“Sit down,” he instructed, pointing to the chairs in his study. “And calm yourselves. Your emotions are both shouting at me so loudly that I can't hear a word either of you is saying above the tumult. Sit. Now.”

His tone invited no discussion. Loris and Professor Seabolt sat.

“Professor Seabolt has found the solution, Cousin Niclas,” Loris said before the professor could catch his breath. “The enchantment that will take care of the
athanc
. We must find a way to get it to Kian as quickly as possible.”

Niclas's eyebrows rose and he settled into a chair opposite them.

“Tell me, then,” he said.

The professor explained, with many interjections by Loris, and when they had finished Niclas nodded and said, very calmly, “You're right, of course. This information must be gotten to Kian right away.” He considered the matter for a moment in silence, holding his hands up again when Loris and Professor Seabolt tried to speak.

“What we need is a mystic,” Niclas said at last. “One of our kind who can communicate immediately through the spirits with Malachi, who can then pass the information to Kian. Unfortunately, the only mystic within a hundred miles happens to be my infant daughter, who is far too young to be of any help. It's odd, is it not?” he asked. “Mystics are such bewildering souls. Always underfoot and wreaking havoc when you don't need them, but never around when you do.” He sighed.

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