“I can’t wait,” Nathaniel responded, clearly entranced by her coquettish flirtations.
She laughed in delight. “And then you can begin to master me, thoroughly.”
Cullen watched in horror. Surely she couldn’t mean it? Not his Sunny?
Nathaniel meshed his fingers together, contemplating her. “A contract will have to be signed.”
“I agree. I need to know where I stand...or maybe kneel...?”
Cullen’s blood roared. He could scarcely catch a breath. It felt like drowning, being tethered to the spot enduring this wretched negotiation.
Sunny trailed her fingertips across the back of Nathaniel’s chair. “So why don’t we discuss it over drinks, or maybe an intimate dinner date, hmm?”
“Allow me to deal with Cullen’s destiny first, then we can spend some time together.”
“You intend to send him back to 1820?” She shook her head, acting most disappointed.
Cullen’s spirits lifted.
“He’s proved to be rather a good gardener, and I was hoping you’d let him service my grounds while we’re otherwise engaged.”
Nathaniel chortled. “Gardener? Oh my, what a come down for the second son of Nobleman Thaine.”
Sunny shrugged. “I needed a man about the place, that’s why I had to hold on to him for a while.” Again she fluttered her eyelashes at Fox, running her fingers under the strap of her dress as she did so. “If you’re in agreement, we can leave him to work in my orchards while you take me to dinner and discuss the arrangements for our time together.”
“That would be most agreeable.” Nathaniel inclined his head, then gestured elegantly with his hand. “Might I suggest we dine at the Ritz, in London, or the Waldorf in New York? Or perhaps a trattoria I know in Portofino would be more your style? I can have us there in a flash.”
Sunny shook her head. “I’ve been dying to see your manor house. I’ve heard it’s quite the enchanted palace. Surely you can rustle something up for me in the Fox’s lair?”
Nathaniel’s eyes lit, a sinister smile crossing his face.
He rose to his feet, pushing the rope barrier aside as he did so. “Music to my ears, my dear. I’d be delighted to show you my ‘enchanted palace.’ I’m quite sure that once you step inside, you’ll never want to leave...”
Sunny looped her arm in his, and they strolled past Eben and Cullen. As they did, Sunny glanced briefly Cullen’s way, and he thought he caught guilt and regret in her eyes, then she looked ahead—as if into a future that didn’t include him.
Cullen’s gut twisted. He glared at Nathaniel as he battled his confines, his mind tormented, his body writhing.
Succor poured from the stoic man at his back, who seemed invisible to Nathaniel.
Nathaniel chuckled at Cullen, then shot a pitying glance at the frozen weapon in his hand. “She really doesn’t want you anymore. She has locked you out of her affections, once and for all.”
No, Cullen silently raged, it was Eben who’d locked him out. But he couldn’t speak, couldn’t deny it.
Before they left the room, Sunny paused at the table where Cullen had set down his mother’s jewels, flipped open the jewelry wrap, and picked up a handful of the treasures he’d offered her. She tossed them at his feet. “Keep your trinkets, Cullen. They don’t interest me.”
She flashed her eyes at Nathaniel. “Shall we?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Sunny’s stomach knotted.
She quelled the urge to be sick.
It broke her heart to do what she’d had to do. It was crucial though, in order for Fox to trust her. She’d prepared herself thoroughly and once she’d begun, there was no turning back.
Her mind was in turmoil. Surely Cullen would know. Hadn’t she said yes to his proposal? Then again, she’d mistrusted his motives just moments before. Regret clouded her vision and she had to fight back the tears.
A sleek black vehicle awaited Fox outside the entrance to Hollingswell Hall. As they approached, a chauffeur got out of the front seat and opened a door for them to climb into the back.
She glanced at the chauffeur, meaning to thank him.
He had a cap on and his head was bowed, obscuring his features. She ducked to one side to look at him. He continued to stare down at the ground, emotionless and uninvolved, as if devoid of personality.
Sunny felt horribly uncertain. The air of servitude about the man and his lack of personality were oddly foreboding. Is this what Fox did to the people around him?
Sliding into the back seat, it was unexpectedly warm and comfortable, with a soft leather and polished wood interior, luxurious to the nth degree. When Fox climbed in on the other side, however, her heartbeat quickened again. She couldn’t help feeling trapped.
“It won’t take long,” Fox commented. “My driver is exceedingly fast.”
Sunny didn’t blame the driver, wanting out of the car and now. Her heart hammered against the wall of her chest, but she kept smiling sweetly at Fox, bracing herself for worse to come. On the surface he appeared positively charming, but smarmy as hell.
The car sped off, moving swiftly across the countryside.
Doubts assailed her. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, needing clarification, trying to keep her mood flirtatious.
“To my ‘lair,’ as you so eloquently put it.” He gave a dark chuckle and reached out to stroke her cheek with the back of his fingers.
Sunny had to will herself not to flinch at his touch.
As if encouraged, he leaned over and kissed her mouth.
His lips were cold and repulsive.
It required all her strength not to jerk away. She pressed her lips to his, pretending to return the gesture.
“What fun we shall have,” he said as he drew away, and looked her over as if undressing her with his eyes.
Mercifully, they pulled up in front of his manor house shortly after.
The car crunched on a gravel drive, and the chauffeur was out within a heartbeat, opening the door for her. Again she couldn’t make eye contact with him, which disturbed her greatly.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had company,” Fox said as he put his hand on her back, directing her towards the double doors at the entrance. “I’m looking forward to this immensely.”
Sunny looked up at the house. It was a massive Georgian building, elegantly designed. This would be an exciting moment for many women, being taken into a house like this by an apparently wealthy man. But all she saw was a potential prison. And she was walking into it willingly.
It had to be, she reminded herself.
Double polished wood doors inset with glass panels opened onto a dramatic entrance hallway. As they entered the building, Sunny heard the car driving away at high speed.
A massive, ornate chandelier tinkled overhead as the doors slammed shut behind them. The atmosphere changed instantly.
Sunny swallowed. It was as if a vacuum had been created by the doors closing at her back. She tried not to react, looking at her surroundings instead. “What a beautiful chandelier.”
“From the Palace of Versailles.”
Sunny looked up in awe, wondering what he’d done to gain such a valuable and delicate possession. Shipping it here from France in itself would be a difficult endeavor, and she doubted it was legally acquired.
Twin staircases curved up either side of the hall, meeting on the upper floor. Underfoot, grey marble tiles covered the floor. The tiles were large and decorated with what might have been a gold printed pentangle. Sunny didn’t want to look too closely. Instead she turned his way and nodded. “Elegant and classical, just as I would’ve expected from a gentleman like you.”
“I’m glad you approve.” His eyes glittered, turning silver and back again. “I hope this convinces you to stay for some time...”
And end up like the chauffeur, bowed in servitude and devoid of personality, under the viscount’s control? No way. “I expect you have a lot to teach me, and it’ll take time. I
’m ready for it all.”
The viscount gestured at a doorway beyond.
It opened into a long hall, apparently some sort of gallery.
Sunny walked along the vast space, wincing internally as she passed numerous animal trophies mounted on the walls. All of them were big cats, lions, panthers and tigers. The sight made her blood boil. Trophy hunting turned her stomach, and the sight of these souvenirs made her want to bring the viscount down more than ever.
There were more trophies under her feet in the form of vast animal hides. Her emotions built, fuelled by the repulsion she felt. She clamped her eyes shut a moment, remembering in particular what Eben had said to her. Draw on your strengths. Store your emotions to use them as weapons. When she opened her eyes, she looked away from the tragic, beautiful creatures, but carried her response to them in her heart.
Further along, classical paintings hung on the walls, all of them apparently genuine. Scenes of heaven and hell at war filled her vision, paintings of angels being stabbed by demons. A life of indulgence, selfishness and cruelty was represented. Evidence of decadence, death and debauchery were everywhere.
The viscount beckoned her to follow, and she strolled after him into a dining room where a long mahogany table had been set for two.
How had he known she’d want to come here? she wondered. Unless he’d prepared it by magic. During her lessons about magic, everyone who taught her kept emphasizing one point: magic must not be used for mundane and everyday tasks. It was a precious commodity to be treasured and used with discretion. Also, if he’d set the dinner table by magic, did that mean there was no one else in the house and they were entirely alone?
He drew out a chair, gesturing for her to sit down.
She smiled sweetly and took the seat offered. While he walked away, she glanced around, quickly assessing her surroundings to get her bearings and be aware of potential exits. There was only one door in the room, the one they’d entered through. The room was sparsely furnished. Aside from the table and chairs, a long sideboard sat against one wall. Several chandeliers hung overhead, and behind her on the distant wall, facing Fox, was a lone painting.
Fox had reached the other end of the table, some fifteen feet away, and sat down. Then he pounded his fist on the table and shouted, “Imelda, service!”
Relief edged into Sunny’s emotions. There was somebody else there. Moments later, her sense of hope quickly diminished.
A weary-looking lady in a maid’s outfit entered the room, slowly pushing a hostess trolley. Her uniform looked dated. The trolley she maneuvered was set with dishes covered with polished silver domes, accompanied by a matching ice bucket holding two bottles of champagne. The lady looked as if she was weary from servitude from this cruel master, and—like the chauffeur—had her head dipped, looking neither left nor right at either of them as she lay the dishes on the table and uncovered them.
When the woman brought a plate containing a suspicious looking array of black items, Sunny couldn’t help staring down at it in horror.
“Black ink squid with beluga caviar,” Fox informed her, “a delicacy I particularly enjoy.”
“I’m not familiar with it. What a...treat.”
Why on earth had she mentioned dinner? He hadn’t offered her a choice, or asked if she was veggie. Presumably because she was a stupid peasant who needed educating. She only had herself to blame, so she’d have to put up a good pretence. She didn’t even have a handbag to shove this ghastly stuff in when he wasn’t looking, she’d left it at Hollingswell, and the lettuce garnish wasn’t big enough to hide it all under.
A moment later, Fox popped the cork on a bottle of champagne.
Imelda waited by his side while he poured it, and nodded his approval. When she moved to Sunny’s side, carrying her glass, Sunny tried to capture her attention, trying to see the woman’s eyes. It was impossible. She sensed the woman was afraid, and it made her fret. Defensive emotions bubbled inside.
Once the servant left, Fox clapped his hands and classical music started playing from an invisible source. He swallowed champagne and then tucked into the squid. “We’ll eat, then there’s the contract to be negotiated.”
“Is it necessary? You saw how willingly I came.” She pushed the caviar and black squid around the plate, feigning interest. She wasn’t good with seafood and this stuff looked like it had been pulled out of the black tides last century.
She risked a sip of the champagne. It tasted good, but went straight to her head. A special vintage, no doubt. She decided to work with it, allowing herself to absorb the rush of intoxication. The likelihood was he wanted her awake, at the very least.
She fixed a smile on her face when he began to speak, pushing the remains of his starter to one side.
“The contract is merely a formality. I don’t offer my guidance to just anyone.”
“I understand. And it’s an honor to be given the opportunity.”
“You already demonstrated ability.” He studied her across the table. “I saw you when you were a child, alas your grandmother was a guard dog and wouldn’t let me get to know you then. Our relationship could have been...consummated...so much sooner.” He gave a lascivious smile which made her blood run cold.
“Did you know my grandmother well?”
He shrugged. “We understood each other well enough, but we never really saw eye to eye.” He paused and looked at her as if choosing his words carefully. “She was a talented woman.”
He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a folded sheet of aged parchment. “The contract.”
He tapped it on the table then opened it out and pushed it across the surface of the table.
The parchment slid easily on the polished surface, only stopping when it reached the edge of her table setting. She looked at the parchment and saw there was an ancient quill lying on it. There had been no sign of it a moment before. Again, he’d employed magic to do the simplest of tasks. “Surely you want to see what I can do, before you offer me a contract.”
“I’ve seen enough.” His mouth twitched to one side. “You need to read it.”
Warily, Sunny picked it up.
As soon as she did, she heard a strange sound. It was like a massive bolt sliding into place. She risked a side glance at the window. There were indeed bars across the top and lower window pane, and they were on the outside of the glass. It was just as Rowena had warned, but she hadn’t realized it would happen so fast.
Cautiously, she laid the parchment on the table, trying not to panic, whilst also not wanting to touch the page. Apparently the contract came into force as she read each line. She let her eyes glaze, forcing herself to look as if she was reading for a moment longer. Then she reached for her champagne glass. “Your demands for confidentiality are many.”
It was a wild guess, but she was playing for time, trying to figure out the next move. She had emotions plenty, but how best should she demonstrate she wasn’t to be toyed with?
At that moment, Imelda returned with her trolley.
Sunny watched as the woman served the main course and put the plate in front of her. Medallions of some very raw meat bled across the plate. Her eyebrows lifted, and she tried not to object verbally.
“Another delicacy,” Fox commented.
She had the urge to ask if he’d killed it himself, but resisted.
There was no way she was touching that, and she couldn’t get away with pushing it around the plate like she had with the squid. An idea occurred to her, and it would kill two birds with one stone.
Readying herself, she remembered the touch of his cold lips, how it made her feel, and the emotions that’d multiplied inside her when she walked down the hideous hall of trophies.
Stealthily releasing her emotional reaction, she lifted her hands either side of the table to direct her magical energies around her host’s chair.
Fox lifted his head as if he’d sensed something, frowned, and then carried on eating.
Sunny could scarcely breat
he.
Waiting in anticipation, she stared at the doorway beyond.
She heard them before she saw them, a thump and a growl and then the sound of large, untamed creatures approaching.
Fox sat bolt upright, his eyes narrowed as he looked in Sunny’s direction.
She shrugged, gesturing casually with her hands.
A low growl echoed behind his chair.
Fox’s mouth twisted.
Sunny smiled. “The meat wasn’t done to my taste, so I thought I might feed it to your pets.”
Two black panthers appeared, one on either side of him.
Fox glanced at them, his eyebrows lifting.
One of the panthers paused and sniffed his hand, where it rested on the arm of his chair—presumably the hand that had fired the fatal shot.
The other strolled toward Sunny, blinking at her.
Lifting a piece of the meat with her fingers, she offered it to the creature from the palm of her hand.
A large rasping tongue came out and claimed it.
The other panther was still sniffing at Fox’s sleeve.
Fox ignored it, staring instead at Sunny, his eyes still narrowed, his gaze angry.
Quickly, Sunny lifted another piece of meat and made a cooing sound. “Here, kitty.”
The panther strolled her way.
“You’re just showing off,” Fox said, clearly annoyed.
He didn’t like what she’d done. Had she made a mistake already? “Maybe,” Sunny replied, hedging her bets.
He dabbed his mouth with the serviette. “Imelda!” he bellowed.
Imelda entered the room.
Fox repeated her name and pointed at the panthers. “Deal with this situation.”
After he’d issued the order, he looked back at Sunny expectantly, as if watching her reaction.
Imelda seemed frozen to the spot. Was she afraid of the big cats? Sunny couldn’t blame her. She would have been too if she hadn’t known they were her creatures, restored to life by her magic and her magic alone.
Fox raised his hand and a surge of energy emitted from it, directed at Imelda’s back. She staggered forward and began to wail and scream, her hands lifting to her face as she stared at the creatures in horror.
A Coven of Her own Page 21
