by Jane Charles
“Ashford and Keegan, come up to the house and take advantage of Atwood being generous with his brandy,” Kazakov laughed.
“Did he say Ashford and Keegan?” Eliza’s eyes lit with excitement.
“Yes,” answered Rosemary.
“They are part of the Devils of Dalston. If Miss Morris wasn’t in peril before, she certainly is now.”
While her friends saw only black arts, Sophia realized something entirely different as the pieces began to fall into place. Ashford and Keegan were associated with the Home Office and were most likely English spies. Westbrook, Keegan, and Ashford were also Devils of Dalston. Was it possible that he was part of the Home Office? Were all of the Devils of Dalston? If so, it was a brilliant cover for their true professions.
Then there was the fact that Kazakov had built a fence and gate to keep them from the beach. Her father had asked her to keep Eliza and Rosemary from the caves. Wesbrook had taken up residence at Harrington when he hadn’t even visited his sisters in nearly a year, and now Keegan and Ashford were here.
In an instant, she knew that the events of two nights ago had absolutely nothing to do with witchcraft or a virgin sacrifice but to keep their focus away from something else.
After all, none of the adults seemed the slightest bit concerned by Eliza’s revelation of witchcraft being practiced either. In the past, when Eliza and Rosemary feared vampires and then ghosts, they’d been given more than one firm talking to. They had threatened to lock them away, and had done so, until they ceased their nonsense.
Their claim of witches and warlocks had been laughed off.
It was all a show. They must have learned that the girls suspected Westbrook of being a warlock and decided to use it to their advantage, which meant that Miss Morris was part of the subterfuge since she had participated. While Eliza and Rosemary were worried about Harrington, they’d have their back to the beach and whatever was occurring in the cave.
Sophia snuck a look over her shoulder. Ashford and Keegan watched her. They recognized her and were waiting to see if she recognized them. Sophia met their eyes. Her smile was small when she placed a finger to her lips and hoped they understood she’d not say a word.
They offered the briefest of nods and unless someone was watching them closely, and thankfully nobody was, it was missed.
Her mind churned as she walked back to the school with Rosemary and Eliza. While her friends discussed various ways to rescue Miss Morris and expose Westbrook as a warlock, she planned on helping them with whatever scheme they came up with as long as it didn’t involve the beach or the cave. Her father had asked it of her, and she’d do everything in her power to make sure neither Eliza nor Rosemary realized that there was something far more dangerous than witches to be concerned about. She only wished she knew what it was.
Chapter 14
Therefore a wicked woman is by her nature quicker to waver in her faith, and consequently quicker to abjure the faith, which is the root of witchcraft.
~ Malleus Maleficarum by Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger
Gabe gripped the snifter of brandy and sat as close to the fire as was safe, but he still wasn’t warm. Upon entering the manor, Claudia had been taken to a chamber, just as he had, while Wesley sent a servant for a change of clothing. He’d stripped out of everything and remained wrapped in a blanket before a roaring fire, trying to thaw, until new clothing arrived. Once he was dressed, Gabe returned downstairs to join the other gentlemen in the library, but he was still freezing. As if the icy lake had frozen the blood in his veins.
Claudia, he’d been told, had been tucked away in a bed in her chamber and had fallen asleep after drinking two cups of tea. Even though he knew she was safe, Gabe couldn’t shake the fear of almost losing her. It was in those moments he realized how much she meant to him. Not that he wouldn’t have reacted the same had it been one of the other teachers, or worse, a student, but Gabe knew that if he’d lost Claudia to the water, it was something he might not ever recover from. He’d go on, as one must, but it would affect every part of his being.
He glanced about the room and sipped from his drink once more. With him were Atwood, Kazokov, Wesley, Keegan, and Ashford, and he’d never suffered through such uncomfortable silence before. After they’d discussed the weather, London, and the like, the gentlemen hadn’t said anything further. Of course, Atwood, nor any of the gentlemen from Kirksbury knew Keegan or Ashford. And, Keegan and Ashford wouldn’t discuss the real reason that brought them here since they’d answered that they simply wished to visit their friend.
“As you all know, our contact will be here tomorrow night, right after the sun goes down,” Gabe said. “Now is a good time to discuss the plan.”
Both Keegan and Ashford pinned him with a disbelieving look.
In retrospect, Gabe should have also mentioned how Kazakov fit in and that the cave was under his manor. “I find that it’s impossible to keep anything a secret in this village.” Referring more to the relationship between himself and Claudia. He looked to Atwood and Kazakov. “My friends are here to be of assistance, not to visit.”
There, they now all knew that everyone knew, and there was no point in tiptoeing around the subject.
“I’ll take you to the cave when we’re finished here,” Kazakov said.
“The men and women in my household will be stationed within.”
“Ashford and I will be on top of the cliff,” Keegan finally said. “We don’t want everyone trapped inside if the situation escalates, and we are both an excellent shot, even from a distance.”
“As the school is closer to the beach than Atwood Manor, I’ll be calling on Miss Morris, along with Lord and Lady Atwood and Mrs. Kazakov, to discuss wedding plans,” Wesley remarked. “That will insure Mrs. Kazakov is away from Creighton Manor at the time if something should go wrong and will also put Lord Atwood close to the beach if he is needed. That will also give us the opportunity to keep an eye on those three so they don’t cause you any difficulty.”
“Thank you,” Gabe said. The last thing he needed were three girls ruining everything or walking into danger. “Though I doubt Miss Morris will wish to discuss any plans of that nature.”
Wesley straightened and gave him a questioning look.
“She rejected my proposal.”
Atwood stood. “We’ll make her understand she does not have a choice.”
Gabe leveled him a look. “I will take care of it, in my own way. Right now, let her recover from her fright and near drowning, and let’s wait and move past tomorrow night before discussing this topic once again.” Gabe hoped that by the edge in his voice Atwood would understand that this was none of his concern.
He didn’t wait for a response and tilted his head back and closed his eyes. The brandy warmed his belly, and he was finally beginning to feel warm. With it came exhaustion, which shouldn’t be a surprise. However, that didn’t mean he was going to leave. Not until he saw Claudia and knew that she’d not suffer any ill-effects from today.
* * *
***
Claudia blinked open her eyes to a dark room. The only light came from the moon. She knew this chamber. It’s the same one she’d used when she’d stayed at Atwood Manor following the tempest.
What time was it? She’d drifted off late in the afternoon. Surely she hadn’t slept through the night?
Claudia lifted the robe that had been left draped at the end of the bed and put it on before leaving the chamber. The house was completely silent, and Claudia wandered down the corridor and descended the stairs. It had to be late, or very early. Not even servants were about. The sitting room was silent and dark, so she continued to Atwood’s library. At least she knew there was a clock inside and could determine the time.
Slowly she pushed the door open, but like the rest of the house, it was silent and empty, though a smile fire burned so Atwood couldn’t have been gone for long. She strode to the desk and lifted the small clock. “Five? In the morning?”
&n
bsp; “Yes.”
She lit a lamp and her heart began to race at the sight of Gabe. “What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t wish to leave until I knew you were well.”
His concern warmed her, but it wasn’t necessary. “Would Atwood not give you a chamber?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” He stood and stretched. “But I did drop off in here.”
She’d never seen him dressed as such, in shirtsleeves and britches. The fine linen molded his shoulders and arms, and they were more impressive than she’d realized. Of course, she was well aware of their strength. They had pulled her from the water. One arm lifting her while he held onto the rope with another and pulled them to the surface.
“Are you well?” She wasn’t the only one who’d taken a swim in a very cold lake.
“Yes, thank you for your concern.” He smiled. “And you? Are you unharmed?”
“Simply exhausted. I can’t believe I slept as I did.”
“A shock to your body, I am sure.”
That must be it, for there was no other reason, unless Tess had added a sleeping draught in her tea.
“I’m glad you’re awake so we can speak in private.”
She sank into a chair beside the fireplace. There was a slight chill in the room, and she became very aware of how little she was wearing. She certainly was not dressed properly for a conversation with a gentleman, especially since they were very much alone. Nor was Gabe properly attired. Claudia could only hope Atwood wouldn’t come across them, or he’d insist upon marriage post-haste.
Gabe grabbed some wood and added it to the fire then stirred the embers. Soon it was burning brighter and warmer than before, and Gabe settled into the chair across from her.
“Brandy?” he asked.
“As it’s morning for me, tea would be more appropriate.”
“I’m sure Wesley is about and probably brewing some right now.”
Claudia laughed. “I doubt that. Even Wesley needs to sleep.”
“Are you certain?” Gabe snorted. “I’ve yet to determine exactly what kind of servant he is since he behaves more like a friend and sometimes master of this house.”
Claudia couldn’t help but smile. “He’s Atwood’s valet, though his duties clearly are beyond the scope of the position.”
“Believe it or not, Wesley does allow himself to sleep on occasion,” Mrs. Zobard announced as she came in, carrying a tea service. She smiled at Claudia. “A maid spotted you upstairs and since you’ve slept nearly fourteen hours, we assumed you would not be going back to sleep.”
Fourteen hours? She’d not slept that long since she first arrived in Cornwall at the Wiggons’ School for Elegant Young Ladies, after the harrowing journey to flee France and cross the Channel to England. “Thank you,” Claudia said as the housekeeper placed the tray on the small table.
“Just ring if you need anything else,” she said before disappearing through the doorway.
Claudia rose and poured a cup of tea and offered it to Gabe. “Sugar? Milk?”
He shook his head and accepted the cup and saucer. Claudia then prepared one for herself and returned to her seat.
This was so very strange. The two of them were very much alone and neither dressed appropriately, but it didn’t feel wrong. Almost as if they were comfortable enough with the other that proprieties didn’t matter. Almost intimate.
“I thought I lost you today,” Gabe finally said.
“You didn’t. I’m fine,” she assured him.
“I don’t think you understand.” he insisted. “I knew my heart was involved but hadn’t realized how very much until the ice gave way and you were gone.”
His heart wasn’t involved. It couldn’t be. Not in so short a time. It was the urgency and danger of the situation. Even so, a part of her was thrilled that he did care. He’d said so before, but Claudia still suspected it had more to do with wanting to be settled for his sisters and not so much that his heart wanted her.
Gabe set his cup and saucer on the table and leaned forward. “I don’t think you truly understand the depth of my feelings, Claudia.”
“I’m not sure you do,” she returned. “We hardly know one another.”
“What is the proper time limit? How long must I wait to tell you that I might be falling in love with you? A week? A fortnight? A month? A year? Tell me, who has set a time limit on these emotions, and I will try my best to adhere to it.”
Claudia drew back at the intensity of his voice and the passion in his green eyes. That was the first time love had been mentioned. It was true, her heart was involved, but could she trust her heart over her head? “I believe perhaps circumstances may make you feel things that are not real,” she began. “You are here to catch a few spies, three students believe you’re a warlock, and you had to pull me from a frozen pond today. Matters have not been normal. How do you know you will feel the same when life is mundane?”
“It doesn’t need to be as such,” he argued.
She just laughed. “There can’t be excitement every day either. That would simply be too exhausting.” Then she remembered his profession. “Of course, you will still work for the Home Office, so I suppose your life won’t be mundane.”
“I’ve considered resigning.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “Why?”
“I need to see to my sisters and a husband should not be gone so often from his wife.”
She understood the decision. “But will you be happy?” Gabe was thinking about changing everything that he was. “Is it necessary that you even marry? You could see your sisters married and return to your life.”
He studied her with an intensity that she hadn’t experienced as of yet.
“Yes, I will be happy. As will my wife.” His eyes locked with hers, and Claudia’s skin heated. He was intent on marrying her, and she’d not said yes. She had no intention of agreeing, why didn’t he understand?
He rose and walked toward her, then went down on a knee.
Certainly, he was not going to propose again. Claudia wasn’t sure she could refuse a second time. With each discussion it became harder and harder to resist him.
But she must. Even though he had saved her life, it did not mean she owed him her life. Besides, she could not provide him with what he needed.
Gabe placed his fingers beneath her chin. “You will be that wife, Claudia.”
With that, he kissed her. Gentle, sweet, and intimate, but not with the same intensity as before.
When he pulled back, Claudia could only blink at him. He didn’t ask her. He told her.
“We will discuss our betrothal after the spies have been dealt with.”
“We aren’t betroth…”
Gabe put a finger against her lips and smiled. “After. Not before.” Then he resumed his seat, leaving her more confused and flustered than ever before.
Chapter 15
Witches are so called on account of the blackness of their guilt, that is to say, their deeds are more evil than those of any other malefactors. He continues: They stir up and confound the elements by the aid of the devil, and arouse terrible hailstorms and tempests.
~ Malleus Maleficarum by Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger
“We’ve got to stop the marriage.” Eliza fisted her hands on her hips. They’d come outside for fresh air after supper, but it was nearly dark so they couldn’t remain out her much longer.
“But, Miss Morris insisted there was no betrothal,” Sophia whispered. They’d overheard the discussion between Miss Morris and their former teachers.
“They will be, of that I’m certain,” Eliza insisted as she marched toward the back of Harrington Manor.
Sophia and Rosemary hurried after her. “How do you propose we do so?” Rosemary questioned.
“Why do we need to?” countered Sophia.
“Because Westbrook is a warlock, and he’s intent on mesmerizing Miss Morris. Once married, she will be completely in his thrall.”
“Westbrook is n
ot a warlock, and Miss. Morris is not a witch. Furthermore, she has not agreed to marry him, so she he lacks any control over her.”
“Says you,” Eliza retorted. “I’m not so gullible.”
It was on the tip of Sophia’s tongue to insist that Eliza was the most gullible of them all.
“We know what we saw, whether anyone believes us or not,” Rosemary added.
“Miss Morris had the mark, she divined water, was sacrificed and somehow survived, and now she’s marrying him,” Eliza continued.
“She’s not marrying him,” Sophia nearly yelled in frustration.
“Maybe it’s too late?” Rosemary worried her fingers together.
“No,” Eliza insisted. “If it were, the water would have rejected her, just like it did Westbrook.”
“He saved her from drowning,” Sophia reminded dryly. “It had nothing to do with witchcraft or magic.”
“Says you.” Eliza crossed her arms over her chest and harrumphed.
“Even if we find a way to stop Westbrook, what are we going to do about Olivia and Victoria?” Rosemary worried.
“What do you mean?” Sophia couldn’t imagine what one had to do with the other, unless her friends still thought the twins were witches.
“I was thinking about what we read,” she whispered. “About causing tempests.”
Eliza sucked in a breath, and Sophia was hard pressed not to roll her eyes.
“They had only been students a short time when it happened,” Eliza said. “They are more powerful than I realized.”
Rosemary grabbed Sophia’s hand. “What are we going to do?”
“Goodness!” Sophia finally exclaimed. “They are not witches, and they had nothing to do with the tempest.” She stomped off away from her friends. Even if she told them what she suspected, they would either not believe her or decide to figure out what else Westbrook might be up to. It was best for everyone, at least she assumed, to just let those two go on believing what they will about witches and warlocks living in their midst.
