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Authors: Susan Spencer Paul

BOOK: Touch of Passion
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Twenty~four

“A meeting, you say? That's interesting.” The Earl of Llew nodded thoughtfully. “Quite interesting. But why has Lord Graymar sent you to deliver this invitation to me, Cousin? I should think he would have found another messenger. And how the devil did you come to be in company with the man? I thought you were in London, enjoying the pleasures of the Season.”

Tauron Cadmaran fingered the wineglass set before him on the table at which he and Lord Llew sat. “We met by accident in Shrewsbury,” he said, artfully repeating the he that he and the Earl of Graymar had crafted earlier. “We were lodging at the same inn. I was heading north in order to fetch our aunt Margad, so that she might be present in London with all the family—as you requested—when you bring your future bride to Town. You know how greatly she dislikes leaving Bradford, and she cannot abide journeying even a short distance without company. But no family gathering could be complete without Aunt Margad.”

“I see,” Lord Llew said. “That was good of you, Brecmont, but I had already made arrangements for our elderly aunt's travel. I'm fully aware of how greatly she hates to journey alone. Our cousin Morlan was to bring her.”

Tauron did his best to look abashed. “I should have consulted you first, then. I had hoped to surprise her by my visit.” He sighed. “But then I crossed paths with Graymar, and when he told me his reason for coming to Wales, I assured him that I should be glad to change the course of my travels and present his request to you myself. I knew you'd far rather that I come and deliver his message than be made to endure an encounter with one of the Seymours.”

“Very true,” Lord Llew agreed coolly. “That was well considered, Brecmont.”

“We parted ways two days ago,” Tauron continued, not letting his cousin's approval affect him. He couldn't risk relaxing in the presence of so powerful and cunning a wizard. “He should be at Tylluan by now.”

“Yes,” Lord Llew murmured. “I felt his power coming so near to Llew yesterday, and wondered at it. But now that you've come, I understand all.”

“But surely you don't mean to actually meet with him,” Tauron said, picking up a nearby decanter and reaching to refill his cousin's glass. “From what you've told me, the creature you've set loose is doing exactly as you wish. If Graymar must meet with you, then he must believe he hasn't the means to stop the beast, and it scarce makes sense for you to lend him your aid.”

Lord Llew laughed and, with seeking fingers, found his glass and lifted it. “Nay, but it was for this very purpose that I set the creature free. I wanted to draw the lord of the Seymours here, where I might confront him face-to-face, and force him to challenge me. I knew that Lord Tylluan wouldn't be able to manage alone, and would in time have to call for his
Dewin Mawr's
help.” The earl drank deeply, then sighed with satisfaction. “And now he's here at last, and I have my chance to settle matters that should have been tended to long ago.”

“Lord Graymar will not come to Llew,” Tauron said. “He's not that foolish, to meet you where your powers will be multiplied.”

“And he knows that I'll not meet him at Tylluan, a Seymour stronghold,” the earl murmured. “But I believe he'll agree to a place neutral to us both, so that our powers will be equal—until the moment he challenges me. Which he will, once he realizes there's no other way to be rid of the
athanc
. There's a mountain not far from here that may suffice. Bryn Chwilen, it's called. It lies between the two properties, and will lend neither of us an advantage.”

“Beetle Mountain, eh?” Tauron remarked.

Lord Llew sat forward. “I want you to act as my emissary, Brecmont, just as you've been his. I'm sorry to ask it of you, for I know you dislike the thought of being in company with Seymours any longer than you must, but I fear I must ask you to do this thing for me. You must journey to Tylluan first thing in the morn and offer the compromise to Lord Graymar.”

“I shall be glad to do so,” Tauron said. “It's an honor to perform any duty that you ask, my lord.”

“You will be repaid tenfold for such loyalty, Cousin,” Cadmaran vowed.

“There is no need,” Tauron told him. “It is an honor, just as I've said. But if you would repay me, then perhaps you'd grant me the privilege of being acquainted with the future Countess of Llew. You've said nothing of her since I arrived, and I expected to be introduced to her at once.”

“I should like nothing better than to make my darling Desdemona known to you,” Lord Llew said, all politeness. “But I have vowed that no one will set sight on her beauty until I've brought her to London. You'd not wish to make the rest of the family jealous by being granted the boon of knowing her before they do, I'm sure.”

“Of course not,” Tauron acquiesced with a nod. “Though I confess to every anticipation. Desdemona,” he repeated, as if trying the word on his tongue for the first time. “It's an unusual name, is it not? I don't know that I've ever heard it before.”

Lord Llew fingered his glass, his smile inscrutable. “It means ‘devil's daughter,' ” he murmured. “I believe her father gave her the name with every good reason.” The earl laughed lightly. “If not, she has certainly lived up to it. She is in truth the devil's own daughter,” he said, his tone filled with pleasure, “and will make the Cadmarans very proud indeed.”

“But we can't wait until tomorrow!” Dyfed shouted furiously. “Desdemona needs to be rescued at once. She told me that she's been locked away in darkness for over a week, and we cannot ask her to remain there longer” He ran both hands through his hair and gazed at the assembled with exasperation. “I promised her that I would have her safe away from Llew by now.”

“We'll get her out, Dyfed,” Kian said. “But we won't have a chance of doing so unless Cadmaran is far from Llew—far enough so that he'll not sense a trick. Miss Caslin will understand that better than you think. She's lived long enough with the man to know what his powers are within his own domain.”

Dyfed sat down in the nearest chair and buried his face in his hands. “How shall I tell her?” he asked miserably. “What can I possibly say?”

“Kian's right,” Malachi said, lounging comfortably in the chair opposite. “The girl will realize that it's best to wait until we can draw Cadmaran away. As unpleasant as spending another day in confinement and darkness must be, it would be far worse to risk being bested by Lord Llew. The one we must worry for is Brecmont.” He nodded toward that man, who stood gazing into the fire. “He's going to be in grave danger when the Earl of Llew realizes what he's done.”

“I don't care,” Tauron murmured. “If not for me, Dyfed wouldn't have learned about Llew's plan to wed Miss Caslin, and nearly risked his life trying to save her without help. But we Cadmarans always seem to be making trouble, even when we don't realize it.” He sighed.

“Now, now, don't fall into despair,” Malachi said. “I shall send you abroad, just as I promised, and you'll have a new start far away from your unpleasant family. Somewhere on the Continent, perhaps, or even America. Now that the war is long over and matters are more amiably settled with the colonies, I hear that it's actually becoming somewhat civilized.”

“And what of you, Malachi?” Kian asked. “Are you certain you'll be ready for whatever the Earl of Llew has planned? He's been trying to achieve a meeting with you for years, and I feel quite certain he doesn't wish to merely converse.”

“Llew is a fool,” Lord Graymar said. “And always has been. He knows what his powers are and assumes he can somehow force me to issue a challenge, simply because he himself would be so quick to do the same. But you may trust that I'm in no hurry to please the man. I should far rather lend you my aid in getting rid of the
athanc
.”

Kian shook his head. “You came to help me find Dyfed and stop him from doing anything foolish, and to allow us a chance to set Desdemona Caslin free. Those are the only reasons you're here,
cfender
.”

Malachi looked meaningfully at the long, deep scratches that covered Kian's hands and part of his face and remarked, “After last night's adventure, I should think you'd reconsider. I shall have to take the time to heal those marks before I return to London.”

“Scars would be a small price to pay for what I learned last night,” Kian said. “I was able to get closer than ever before, to grapple with it physically and hold it in my power for a few moments before it managed to break free. And I discovered something vitally important about the beast in the doing—it cannot change forms while it's held captive. The moment it got free it altered itself into liquid and slid beneath the ground, where I couldn't reach it. But it couldn't do so while I had my hands on it.”

Dyfed lifted his head from his hands. “But it's ten times bigger than you, Kian, when it's full-grown,” he said. “Or more. How is it that you were able to touch even a part of it without being killed?”

“Seren rode close enough so that I could leap at the beast,” Kian said. “I got hold of one of its legs and cast a paralyzing spell which I hoped would affect the entire body. Unfortunately, only the leg and one arm were made useless. I confess I wish I had Cousin Niclas's superior strength, for then I might have held the monster long enough to cast the spell again.”

“It's odd that you should say such a thing,” Malachi remarked, idly rocking the glass he held so that the contents within swirled. “He'll be here soon. Tomorrow afternoon at the latest, I should think, if his horses can clear the mountain roads in good time. I do hope we're finished with all our various duties by then so that we can greet him properly.”

They all stared at him in amazement and Malachi, feeling their questioning gazes, looked up from his contemplation of the tiny whirlpool he held. “I apologize. I should have told you before now, but we have been rather busy making plans to rescue Miss Caslin. I perceived Niclas's presence in Wales just two hours past. He seems to have been riding without rest, else he'd not have been able to cover such a distance in so little time.”

“Niclas,” Kian said with surprise. “Coming here? But that means he must have set out almost immediately after we did.” He made a slow circle about the room, considering, and then his eyes widened as a new thought occurred to him. “He's bringing Loris,” he said, panic rising. “But no.” He gave himself a firm inward shake. “He gave me his word he'd not do so, and Niclas is as honorable as any man alive.”

“That he is,” Malachi agreed.

“Then why is he coming?” Tauron asked. “Is he alone?”

“I cannot tell if he has a mere mortal in company,” Lord Graymar replied, “for I can only sense the movement of my
own kind within the border of Wales. I also don't possess the power to divine his purpose in coming to Tylluan in such haste. But never fear,” he said easily, smiling at each of them in turn. “We should find out soon enough. In the meantime, Dyfed had best use his gift to communicate with his lady love in order to inform her of the delay and reassure her of rescue, and Brecmont must hurry back to Llew with my answer before his cousin becomes suspicious.”

Twenty~five

“Are you sure he can't perceive us?” Dyfed asked, his voice so clipped it revealed his nerves. “What about the horses? He might feel their presence, even if he doesn't feel ours. If he knows we're here he'll have a perfectly good reason to take us captive—or worse. The Guardians don't look lightly on interlopers.”

“They can't look very lightly on what Cadmaran's been doing to Miss Caslin, either,” Kiam replied. “They cast their gazes upon all the exiled Families, not just those in Europe. She's one of us, and he's used her very ill. Apart from that, if Desdemona Caslin is your
unoliaeth
, you have every right to claim her. We aren't going to be punished for freeing her. I'm certain of it.”

“But what about Llew?” Dyfed asked again. “He can't know we're here, else he might harm Desdemona. Or use her as a shield. Are you quite certain this enchantment of Malachi's is powerful enough to fool a wizard like Morcar Cadmaran?”

“Malachi's enchantments never fail,” Kian said reassuringly. “Llew doesn't know we're here, else he'd already have sent his men out to secure us. Or come himself, more likely.
We need only wait until he's left, and then we can easily enter the castle and find your lady.”

“We'll never get into the castle if you're wrong about his servants living beneath a spell,” Dyfed argued. The horse he sat astride felt his rider's impatience and moved restlessly beneath him.

“I'm not wrong about the servants,” Kian said. “Now be still, Dyfed. You know she's all right. She's told you so.”

“She wants
out
.”

“She will be,” Kian murmured, steadying Seren in the trees among which they hid. “Llew should be leaving soon. Brecmont's been gone only a quarter of an hour, if that. It will take the earl a bit longer to make himself ready.”

They were obliged to wait another hour, and then, as three o'clock neared, they saw him depart. The Earl of Llew rode out of his castle flanked by six of his men, three on either side, in a grand manner with banners flying, like a medieval lord heading out to battle.

“He'll have to leave his men at the foot of the mountain,” Kian said, “and use the rapid traveling to meet Malachi in time. I should love to be there to see what transpires. We'll have just above an hour at best to get Miss Caslin out and as far away as possible.”

“Then we'd better hurry,” Dyfed said, and they dismounted.

Kian had no difficulty in dealing with either the guards or the gatekeepers—he simply put them to sleep. Without the Earl of Llew present to lend his power to the enchantment his people lived under, they were helpless in the face of another powerful wizard.

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