Fascinated Page 14

  “Oh, I wasn’t…” Alicia began, trying to rally her composure.

  Lady Jane waved her stammering words away. “You were abducted, you spent the night in the house of an unmarried man without chaperonage, and now you find yourself in strange company. Of course you feel uncertain. How could you not?” The other woman settled onto the plush sofa and smoothed down her dove gray skirts. “But it’s all right. I’m acquainted with all the circumstances, and please believe me, I am not here to judge you by the commonplaces of haut ton etiquette.”

  “I…thank you.” Alicia perched on a stiff embroidered chair, attempting to will herself to something approaching relaxation. “It has all happened so very suddenly.”

  “Yes, when it comes to the Service, things generally do.”

  “Are you a…Sorceress? Or a Catalyst?”

  “Not I. My husband, as you may have discerned, is one of Smith’s agents, and I am much in their confidence. But I also found myself joining the ranks abruptly, so I know at least some of what you’re feeling. In fact, when I heard the details, I’m afraid I insisted on coming to make sure you were all right. You are all right?” she asked suddenly.

  “Yes. At least, I think I am.”

  “Now, that’s an answer which shows you have good sense.” Lady Jane smiled. “Because how could anyone be certain after such a time as you’ve had? And you say Lord Carstairs has explained to you what’s behind this extraordinary treatment?”

  Alicia’s hand drifted to her throat to touch the hollow where her brooch used to rest. “A little.”

  “Good. More will be explained to you shortly, but there is a point I wanted to make clear first. If you do not wish to stay in this house, I will take you out of here at once. You may trust me, there will be no argument.” She spoke these final words with such firmness, Alicia had to work not to shrink back from her.

  “But I couldn’t leave now.”

  “You most certainly could.” Lady Jane drew herself up straight. “And if it is what you want, I will see to it. So, you need not trouble yourself with any words like ‘impossible.’ Do you wish to leave?”

  Alicia did not answer at once. She believed Lady Jane when the woman said she’d take her away if she wanted to go. Except for Verity, Alicia had never met anyone so frank, and—despite a fluttering of trepidation—she found herself warming to this openness. With some difficulty, she set aside the question of just where she could go if she left Edward’s house, and tried to consider the main point. Do I wish to leave?

  She had been used badly. Her reputation would be in tatters. But she had been rescued from a most strange imprisonment. She had also been told she was the possessor of magical abilities. Up to this point in her life, she’d been unable to even understand her own heart, let alone perform any act that was meaningful or useful. Now it seemed she had real power as well as real feeling inside her. She had no wish to walk away without learning more.

  And then there was Edward. When he’d leaned into the tub where she was supposed to be cleaning herself and proceeded to wash her pussy with long, teasing strokes of his cloth, she’d almost swooned. But his “work,” as he so slyly called it, did not end there, for he applied his mouth and wicked tongue to her folds and her sheath until she’d come so hard she’d almost upset the bath. No, now that she had found all these new delights, she was in no hurry to give them up. This made her a disgraceful wanton, but it was true nonetheless.

  What about Edward himself, though? Alicia felt her thoughts lurch to a halt. He’d said he would marry her. More than once in fact. But there was that hesitation about him as well, that sense of holding back. Could he truly want her as a wife now that circumstances between them had changed so much? It might be only his gentleman’s sense of honor that made him stand by their betrothal. When he held her, when he looked at her with his steel and moonlight eyes, she was sure his heart reached for her. But she was so new to the world of feeling, she could well be mistaken.

  “No.” Alicia shook her head at her thoughts. “I will stay.” She would never learn the truth of Edward and Edward’s heart if she ran away from him now.

  “Very well.” Lady Jane smiled, and Alicia saw approval in the other woman’s expression. “But if you ever find yourself in need of a friend, you may summon me at any time, day or night. Mrs. Rathe is another you may call on without hesitation.”

  “Thank you.” Alicia felt an unaccountable prickling behind her eyes. She was not used to kindness being bestowed so freely. Most of her family had ignored her much of the time. Those who had not, had been dismissive, or scolding. Now it seemed that was not all they had done. Her cheeks burned as the outrage of it came to her afresh and the prickling behind her eyes grew stronger.

  “What’s the matter, my dear?”

  This soft, friendly inquiry was the final blow. Alicia burst into tears. She did not cry in little delicate sniffles, but in great, loud sobs. She cried for strangeness and exhaustion and fury at the realization of how badly she had been wronged. She barely felt Lady Jane putting her arms about her, and pressing a handkerchief into her hand.

  The door opened, and she looked up through her blur of tears to see Edward standing, stunned, in the threshold. Alicia wiped hastily at her eyes but it was good. Now that it had begun, the flood would not be stemmed. With an oath, Edward unceremoniously pulled her from Lady Jane and raised her to her feet so he could wrap her in his strong embrace.

  All will be right, Alicia. I promise. All will be right.

  His voice cradled her thoughts as warmly as his arms cradled her body. After a time, her heart was able to believe him, and her tears eased. Alicia looked up into Edward’s gray eyes and opened her mouth.

  “If you’re thinking of apologizing, do not.” He tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “After all you’ve been through it’s a wonder this did not come before.” She opened her mouth again, and, utterly disregarding the fact that they were being watched, he not only failed to release her from his embrace; he laid a finger against her lips. “No apologies, Alicia. Do you understand me?”

  She nodded, but over her shoulder, she saw Captain Smith standing in the corridor, his face creased with deep concern. He was not looking at her, however. He was looking at Edward.

  Thirteen

  “Lord Carstairs may have forbidden apology from you, madame, but he will grant me the privilege of allowing me to make one to you.” Smith entered the room and bowed, formally but not smoothly. Edward stepped back, allowing Alicia to turn toward his captain. Now Alicia could see Smith held the carved chest that contained her brooch under his arm. A shudder ran up her spine.

  “Forgive the brusqueness of an old man,” Captain Smith went on. “I am fighting a long campaign and I have little time to waste on formalities. I will be taking away your amulet for further study, and hope soon to be able to discover something of its origins and its exact effects. All that is learned will be communicated to you and Lord Carstairs. Until then, I want to assure you that Lord Carstairs stands fully ready to honor his engagement to you.”

  “So he has told me,” said Alicia, even as apprehension stirred inside her.

  “Yes. But, as it has been discovered you are a Sorceress, I must also inform you, it is at this time advisable that you not enter into an actual marriage in the strictest sense.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Alicia looked from Smith to Edward. But Edward was not looking at her. His gaze was fixed on the curtained window.

  “A Sorceress, especially one in service to the Crown, has possibilities open to her beyond those commonly allowed a woman in ordinary society,” Smith told her. “It is better that you understand these before you become permanently bound in a legal ceremony.”

  “We will be furnished with a license, Alicia,” said Edward quietly. “It will be enough to convince your family and other acquaintance that our marriage is genuine, but you will not be tied to me in any legal sense, should you decided to change your mind.”

  Once aga
in, he was holding something back. She was certain of it. Did he truly believe she would change her mind? Or did he want to remain free to change his?

  “But…if I did change my mind, if I did leave, would we not be found out in any case?” Alicia could scarcely believe it was her voice asking the question.

  “Not necessarily,” replied Smith. “Should that be your ultimate decision, we would review the options available at the time as to your place and station. However, plenty of couples in the ton live separately. One or the other of you could retire to the country, or go abroad, and not one eyebrow would be raised.”

  “I see,” Alicia said, and she did. It made perfect sense. What made less sense was the uncomfortable twinge under her rib cage. She thought again on the concern written so plainly on Smith’s face when he had seen her in Edward’s arms. Perhaps this false marriage had been his idea. Perhaps Smith thought he would save a trusted agent from further entanglement. After all, the appearance of marriage bound her almost as much as it freed her. If it was made known publicly that the marriage was false, she would be just as ruined.

  Alicia frowned inwardly. She had to stop thinking such things, at least until she had either more proof or more experience. Otherwise, she would become one of those jealous creatures talked about in Verity’s novels.

  “Very good.” Smith nodded. “The paper will be brought by courier this afternoon.” He faced Edward. “I recommend you both work on a story to tell Miss Hartwell’s—I should say Lady Carstairs’s—family. It has also been decided that Lord Carstairs will begin training you in the use of your powers, Lady Carstairs. He is a highly experienced Catalyst, and can teach you much of what you need to know. Once he has some measure of your strength and abilities, we will be able to assign you other tutors as necessary.”

  “That seems a very good plan. Thank you.” Alicia was aware her voice sounded hollow, and that Edward was watching her closely. She wished he’d look at the curtain again. She was not certain she wanted to risk him comprehending the thoughts flashing through her at this moment, especially not in front of Captain Smith and Lady Jane.

  Fortunately, Captain Smith seemed to be in earnest about being pressed for time. “Now, Lady Jane, we should leave, and let these two begin to settle themselves in their new circumstances.”

  Lady Jane got to her feet, and she pressed Alicia’s hand. “We’ll talk again soon, I promise.” She gave Alicia a swift peck on the cheek. “You will remember what I told you?”

  Alicia nodded. Smith said he would conduct Lady Jane home, and shut the door behind them, leaving Alicia facing Edward.

  “What was it Lady Jane said?” Edward asked.

  “She wanted to make sure I knew that I was not alone.”

  “Good, I’m glad she did.” He paused and smiled. “Lady Carstairs.”

  Humor sparked in his eyes, but Alicia found no such answering feeling inside her. “So, that’s it? The turn of a page and we are married?” The belligerence in her voice surprised her. After all they had done without benefit of a marriage license, why did this feel so painful? It was sensible to wait and, given the circumstances, artifice was required. Everything had changed. Not only did she not know who or what Edward truly was; she did not truly know herself. But still, with the revelation of the forged license being created, her fragile sense of security had broken in two.

  “Alicia,” said Edward. “If all goes well, and your abilities are strong, you will be welcomed as one of the Service’s female agents. It is a position that allows you much more freedom and responsibility than you could ever have expected as an ordinary, married woman. You should take some time to learn just what that will mean.”

  “Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Edward. I’m not used to feeling so much; I find I’m having difficulty sorting through it all.” This was true, and she tried to make herself mean it. But at the same time, she found that instead of looking into his eyes, she watched her hands as they restlessly smoothed her skirts. “What do we do now?”

  His smile was slow and warm, and despite Alicia’s apprehensions, an answering warmth welled up inside her. “First things first. I must recall my people. Perhaps such a tiny thing as yourself can be adequately sustained by toasted muffins and cold meats but they will not do to preserve my manly physique.” She could not help but laugh a little at this, and Edward’s smile broadened. “You are not to worry about what the servants will think,” he added. “Their families have all been with mine for generations. They know almost as much about magic and the Service as I do, and they do not expect things to proceed conventionally in this house. Come to the library with me. I’ll write a message to my butler and find a porter to carry it.”

  Edward’s library was easily the most beautiful room of the house Alicia had seen so far. It was hushed here. Clearly, this was a haven for a man with a busy life. She sank up to the tops of her slippers in the Turkey carpets, and the graceful furniture seemed all designed for the comfort of the occupants, especially the armchair with its plump ottoman pulled up by the hearth. The ceiling above was painted with a classical Greek mural showing the muses dancing to Orpheus playing the lyre. But it was the books that took her breath away. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with shelves filled with more volumes than Alicia had ever seen in her life.

  “Wonderful,” she breathed.

  “Surely your uncles have a library?” Edward sat behind the broad mahogany desk and pulled out paper, pen and ink.

  “Nothing like this.” She ran her fingers over the beautiful matching volumes of Diederot’s Encyclopédie. “They keep one because it is the expected thing. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen either of them set foot in it, let alone add a book to it. In fact…” She paused and frowned. “None of the family did.” Her aunts and female cousins used the parlor and sitting rooms for sewing, or for their listless conversations. Aunt Mary shut herself up in her music room and played the pianoforte for hours on end. “Except Verity,” Alicia amended. “She was forever smuggling in novels to hide them under the cushions and in back of the sermons so we could read them together.”

  “Are you fond of novels?” Edward asked, his face studiously grave as he mended the quill’s tip with a small knife.

  “Mostly I was puzzled by them. I couldn’t understand much of what the authors were going on about.”

  “Because you did not know what it is to be in love.”

  “No.” Alicia looked away. She knew very well how his touch could unnerve her, but how had just the sight of his hands and fingers moving with such care and delicacy as they mended the pen, come to so thoroughly disorder her thoughts? “I should write Verity,” she said hastily. “To let her know…at least something of what’s happened. With your permission,” she added.

  “There is no need to ask my permission for such a thing, Alicia. Besides, it’s an excellent idea. And I’ll write a formal letter to your uncles, letting them know you are safe with me and asking permission to call on them.”

  She noted he did not say, “We are married,” and she was glad. The necessity, even the wisdom, of the pretense was plain. But if she stopped to think about it too much, that uncomfortable contraction underneath her ribs returned. She had known before that Edward had become engaged to her for purely practical reasons, and she had thought it the finest possible arrangement for her. But now that she had touched passion, touched need, she could not help but wonder if he felt anything for her beyond that famous lust the worldly man was said to feel.

  But this was foolish. It would have been foolish even without the added strangeness of the magic and her own enchantment. If she had learned anything from Verity’s novels, it was that the love of the heart and the physical act of passion were distinct things. At this point, she could not even be sure Edward would want to keep her in his house.

  The constriction returned and Alicia sat down abruptly.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. A little indigestion, perhaps.”

  �
��All the more reason for me to call back my people. My housekeeper, Mrs. Talbot, will be able to look after you until we arrange a lady’s maid, and her sister, Mrs. Graves, is my cook. She will say at once you are too pale and design the perfect menu to restore roses to your cheeks. Unless…” He paused.

  “Unless?”

  “I fancy I know a way to restore your color.” His gaze traveled down to her breasts, to her waist and ankles, and began a long, slow journey upward again. By the time he reached her face, Alicia knew she was blushing hotly. “But that will have to wait. We must both write our letters. Here.” He stood, taking the writing materials over to one of the library’s many small tables. “We will see about installing a proper desk for you soon.” He set a chair in place, and bowed, smiling to usher her into it.

  “Thank you.” Alicia returned a smile as she sat, but she did not feel cheerful. She felt disastrously uncertain. It is simply because the emotions are all so new and strange, she told herself. I will get used to this seesawing. It is no more than other people have lived with. I just need to accustom myself to it.

  But when she looked over at Edward settling himself to his own work, she found she could not entirely believe that. So, she faced the blank paper instead, dipped the quill in the ink and wrote, Dear Verity.

  And found she had no idea at all what should come after that.

  Edward watched Alicia as she labored over the letter to her cousin. She frowned hard at the paper, as if willing it to present her the words she needed. For a moment, he thought to ask if she wanted help, but he decided to remain silent. It would be better to give her this little space so she could begin to adjust properly to her new way of being and feeling.

  Alicia was not the only one with adjustments to make, either. Edward found himself wondering what was the proper form of address to a man when one had just abducted his niece. He blew out a sigh, took up his quill and set to work.