Well really! She knew it, his white knight performance was an act to ingratiate himself into her father’s good graces. For all the good that would do him, because he irritated her extremely and she was not about to let herself be bamboozled by his obvious attractions. Luke was much more appropriate for her. Truly he was.
Trying to convince herself, she scowled at him, but he scowled right back. Again, she felt a psychic reaching in him that both mystified and frightened her. “Why have you appointed yourself my protector?”
A smile deepened the sensual tug of his mouth. “I didn’t. Your father did. And you yourself did long before we met. You just have not realized it yet. I forgive you for being so confused.”
Her gaze fell to his lips, then skittered back to his face as she blustered, “Poppycock! I’d as soon be a hen guarded by a fox as your ward. It mystifies me that my father cannot see that.”
“Protege would be a better word. You have much to learn, Arielle, but you have natural gifts you have not begun to use. Someday you will not only match me in power, you could well surpass me.” He leaned very slightly forward to emphasize, “However, unlike Luke, I am content to wait upon your pleasure.” His gaze raked her form in the black taffeta. “Again, unlike Luke, I will take nothing from you you do not want to give, and I will not seduce you to make you mine. What we can, and shall have together, must be mutually reciprocal.”
This time, she shrank so close into the squabs that her bonnet went askew. Her heart thudded so frantically in her breast that she wondered if he heard it. The strange feelings of last night as she was torn between the two men returned upon her: desire and fear, mixed into some heady brew that settled low in her abdomen and incited a strange ache in her nether regions.
What manner of man was he? How could he make her so angry and so…she fanned herself again with her hand. She had never been so confused in her entire life, and the fact that he obviously knew that only irritated her more. Sheer defensiveness made her retort before she could stop herself, “I think I know when a man is trying to seduce me.”
He quirked a skeptical eyebrow that infuriated her.
“I do, I tell you. Besides, Luke is good for me. You are not. He makes me feel as if I only have to stretch my wings to fly. You make me feel as if I have to be cautious at every step.”
A strange expression flitted across his face, and in a lesser man she might have believed she hurt him, but then it was gone. “Most young girls fear their first strong attraction. I will not castigate my rival, save to say that one day you will apologize to me when you realize that I am thinking of you and your happiness in all my actions. Luke is thinking only of himself. I only hope you do not realize it too late and that I can protect you, from yourself if need be, until that day.” And as if the subject were closed, he tipped his hat over his head and leaned back, giving every appearance of drowsing.
Of course that condescension only made her more eager to continue their daggers drawn.
“Does it not occur to you that perhaps I find Luke more appealing and that your grizzly bear tactics last night were neither needed nor appreciated?”
“Grizzly bear.” He tipped his hat back again to eye her with that devilish twitch of amusement that she found totally infuriating and…fascinating. She watched his mouth as he talked. “What an interesting turn of phrase, though somewhat discomfiting to me to be compared to a creature that kills its own young.”
“So do cats.” Now where did that come from? But in a strange way, he reminded her of a great cat, with his soundless movements, his golden eyes, his agility, and his acute senses. Luke exhibited similar tendencies, for that matter. The amulet she wore hidden in her garter seemed to burn against her skin. She had noted that often of late, the amulet seemed to be attuned to her emotions–particularly when she was in the presence of a cat. What it meant, she did not know, but only solving the mystery of her mother’s death could explain her curious attraction to all things catlike, that much she was certain of.
As if her head were made of glass to his perusal, Seth appraised her with those mesmerizing golden eyes. He said softly, “A male lion only kills the cubs of a pride if he’s a rogue trying to take over. If they are his cubs, and he is the king of the pride, he will defend both his infants and his lionesses to the death.”
“That may be, but the lioness does all the work while he lies around grooming his mane.”
That irritating smile returned. “Quite so. But if you’ve ever observed lions in the wild as I have, you’d also realize that the lioness doesn’t mind. Do you know how a male and female lion bond? Not so dissimilar to human beings, if you think about it.”
At his look, Arielle swallowed and stared out the window, her heart skipping in her breast. “They mate. Repeatedly. Nothing bonds male and female faster or more completely, in any echelon of the animal kingdom, than sex. That too, shall be my personal delight to teach you. But only when you are ready, with the laws of God and man binding us and your father leading you down the aisle.”
Stunned, she stared at him. Was this his concept of a marriage proposal? As if she would accept. Even if he asked with candy and flowers and candles, which he wouldn’t. This man obviously had an over eager sense of duty and obligation, and none of Luke’s sense of daring and fun. Yet the rogue thought came–why then was she still so attracted to him? But she couldn’t let him know that. Since he was staring at her with those enigmatic and wonderful eyes, she knew she had to answer something or be damned by her silence.
“If it’s up to you, I shall have no right to wear white,” she snapped, blushing when his eyebrows arched until they disappeared beneath his hat.
For a moment she thought she’d won, but then a long hand reached out to toy with the collar of her cape. “You could be right,” he said without shame. “But unlike Luke, I will consummate our future relationship only with your full, enthusiastic cooperation.”
Well, that was plain enough. And the flush in her cheeks seemed to spread through every inch of her body as his fingertip brushed against the throbbing vein in her throat. His gaze seemed to focus there as his voice went husky.
The words seemed torn from him. “You know the legend of the lion god Mihos, yes?”
She shook her head, scarcely hearing him over the pounding of her own heart.
He brushed the soft velvet over her knee. “He was commander of the Pharaoh’s armies, a very powerful, virile leader versed in the ways of men, a warrior of such courage and wiliness that they called him the lion. In his tomb, prepared for his death, he was even depicted as a man with a lion’s head. But his ka was out of balance when he died and went before Anubis, for in his original earthly form he had been a consumer of the hearts of womankind. He took his enjoyment and cast them aside, going on to the next, and the next, very like his kindred spirit the lion, leaving broken and dying hearts in his wake. So when he died, he was condemned by Anubis, Osiris and the council of his elders to wander the ages until he found his missing half, the only female who could counterbalance his urges and give him peace. She would be a descendant of the Ptolemies, like Cleopatra, also versed in the way of the cat, and when they joined as one in human form, the legend goes, they would both win immortality. If they so chose they could rule the earthly night forever as powerful felines, and never die.”
That gentle fingertip trailed higher, to the curve of her thigh. She caught his wrist and removed his hand, only to have him turn his large palm upwards and capture her fingers in his.
She tried to pull away, managing, “A fairy tale. I do not believe in reincarnation.”
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken, his luminous golden gaze fixed on the gentle curvature of her collar bones and arms revealed in her slipping cloak. He ran an admiring hand over them, finishing quickly, “Or they could join as humans in body and spirit, keeping their feline powers under a balance that would allow them, after one normal lifetime, to join the pantheon of the gods in the afterlife.”
Wh
ile she was still digesting the amazing legend and wondering about her mother’s place in it, the carriage jolted to a stop. Pushing his hat back in place at a cocky angle, Seth climbed down as the carriage was opened and the step put down. He gave a polite thank you to the coachman, who had his muffler drawn close to his face under the low cap, and then he offered a hand to Arielle.
Scorning the courtesy, she leaped the three steps to the ground with an adroitness that pleased her. She had no idea why, but since last night, she felt stronger, more alert. That strength had given her wit enough to argue with a man who had always intimidated her, ignore a dubious declaration of intentions that dumbfounded her, and it now allowed her to view her abysmal surroundings with equanimity.
Never had she seen such poverty and filth. The sewers around St. James didn’t look like this. Refuse, and what seemed to be human waste, and by the smell of it probably was, drifted by in the gutters lining the cobblestones. None of that new macadam street covering was invested in this part of the city.
Ancient, tottering houses, more like huts for the most part, were interspersed with decaying taverns. And everywhere signs offered every type of human defilement and temptation, from a simple ale house to something far worse.
Arielle stared at a slatternly woman with a half revealed bosom standing on a street corner, and she did not need Seth’s abrupt taking of her arm to steer her aside to know who and what she was. “Come along,” he said brusquely. “This is not the time to dawdle.”
The coachman removed a blunderbuss from the carriage seat and moved to follow them.
“That is not necessary, my good man,” Seth said. “I suggest you stay with the horses or we may be missing a carriage upon our return.”
The coachman pointed. A husky lad, big for his age, held the reins of the horses while he fingered the gleaming gold coin in his dirty clasp and glared a warning in every direction.
“For safety, ‘sor,” the coachman told Seth. “Me master insists I go along.”
His voice sounded a bit hoarse, but when he coughed, Arielle assumed the man had a cold, which was why he was so closely wrapped in the muffler.
Seth sighed and nodded grudgingly. “Very well. But look sharp. I don’t want to stir up any more attention than we already have.”
And that was plenty. Eyes shadowed them, watching from the curb, from boarded up and broken windows, even from a balcony or two where scantily clad women leaned against rickety railings. Two men in unsavory attire began to shadow them, but when Seth removed his sword from the cane just enough to show the glimmer of very sharp steel, they slunk away into the shadows.
Looking down at the note the earl had given him, Seth led the way up what seemed more of an alley than a street. For once Arielle was content to let him lead and be her protector. When he pulled her under his arm away from a staggering drunkard, she did not complain. Had she not been so determined to tell her old nanny good bye, and so determined to prove her newfound strength, she would have turned back into the carriage before ever getting down. She was glad, as overbearing and arrogant as he was, that he was here. And the sight of the coachman, stepping very alertly with a surprising grace for his height, also comforted her. She glanced over her shoulder at him, thinking she caught a flash of unusually bright green eyes, but then he was looking down and she’d dismissed the odd thought.
Of course he was familiar. No doubt he’d driven her many times.
It felt none too soon when they finally stopped at a nondescript hovel, so ancient it looked gray rather than painted, with the address posting virtually indistinguishable. But Seth seemed to be satisfied, for he used the end of his cane to rap on the door. “Miss Arielle Blaylock to see Miss Anna Louisa Fein.”
No answer, and then an ancient old woman, so bent over she could barely walk, peeked out at them through a crack in the door. She looked about to slam it in their faces, but when Arielle looked around Seth’s bulk, a toothless grin lit up her wrinkled face. “Miss Arielle! So ye did come.” She flung the door wide.
The bare interior was clean, and the strong scent of camphor leaves and other medicines drifted from the only other doorway. “Me daughter will be glad to see you.”
Coughing sounded from the other room. Arielle shared a look with Seth that spoke of her concern, and then the old woman, whom Arielle very vaguely remembered as Miss Fein’s mother, ushered them into a tiny bed chamber. It was barely large enough for the single bed with a single occupant and a battered nightstand that held a ewer of clean water and a towel speckled with blood.
Arielle stopped dead at sight of her old nanny’s face. She had been plump and apple-cheeked, with twinkling blue eyes, the last time Arielle saw her. Now she was emaciated, with a sallow complexion and even her eyes seemed gray in the dismal surroundings. But a glimmer returned as she struggled to sit up. Her mother helped her, propping two threadbare pillows with leaky feathers behind her head.
She offered her hands to her old charge. The coachman and Seth both gave an uneasy look at the blood speckled towel, but Arielle went straight to Miss Fein, took both hands and kissed the sunken cheek. “Nana, it is wonderful to see you again.”
“And you, kitten.” She glanced at the two men, good manners obviously second nature to her. “I regret we do not have enough chairs, but would the three of you care for a spot of tea?”
“No, no, we are fine,” Seth began, but Arielle gave him a shushing look.
“We should be delighted.” She patted the withered hand and sat on the side of the bed to begin chatting about old times.
And so it was that when the old woman brought in four cups of weakened tea in chipped teacups and some dried but edible scones, the strange gathering had a very odd rendition of afternoon tea. No gossip was exchanged, they had no butlers or maids in lacy aprons to serve them, but by the time they consumed the pitiful repast, the five of them all felt better about themselves and their mutual humanity.
Color had returned to Miss Fein’s cheeks, a sparkle that made her eyes blue again, and her mother moved more gracefully, her posture straighter. As they said their good byes, Miss Fein clung a bit too long to her old charge, whispering, “I’m very proud of you, kitten, as your mother would be. Thank you so much for visiting me. I feel better than I have in an age. You got the things she left for you?”
“What things? All I have is one picture and an amulet that was…lost.” Arielle frowned.
Miss Fein shook her head. “No, she left you her most treasured book and one of her costumes she used to wear when she communed with her ancestors.”
“But…I’ve seen no evidence of it. One time I even looked in the attic myself.”
Miss Fein seemed sad. “Perhaps your father had them destroyed.”
When he saw Arielle’s expression, Seth took her arm gently. Then he looked out at the darkening sky. “We must go. It seems as if there’s a storm brewing.”
The coachman collected his blunderbuss and brought up the rear. All of them knew it was probably Arielle’s last good bye with her old nanny, but none of them remarked on it. Seth opened the door for Arielle. As she stepped out, her back to him, Seth slipped a bag full of rattling coins into the old woman’s pocket. The old woman started to speak but Seth held a finger to his lips.
While Arielle was oblivious, the coachman was not. And beneath his cap the green eyes brightened with curiosity, but he looked quickly down at his feet when Seth glanced at him sideways with a surreptitious air, as if he did not want to be seen. As they exited, the tears sparkling in the old woman’s eyes looked like diamonds in the reflected glow of the early fire. As if the bag she held gave her more than riches.
The three were quiet and mutually relieved when they arrived back to find the carriage intact and their young guard still alert. Seth gave him another note for his trouble, and then they were off. Another carriage nosed into the flow of traffic behind them.
The inside of the carriage was quiet, and then Seth said, “I understand now why it was so
important to you to visit her in her time of need. She has no one, does she, but that poor old woman?”
Arielle was staring out the window at the rapidly improving domiciles and did not answer. Above their heads, the panel opened again, and again the listening horn peeked inside.
Seth was too intent on Arielle to notice. “Arielle? As I was saying, she seems quite a charming, intelligent woman. Pity the consumption is so far along–”
Swinging away from the window, Arielle sobbed, “She was supposed to have a pension. Why did Father not check on her? Why did I not check on her?” Tears glistened on her face. “And my mother did leave me something. What else has he lied to me about?”
Seth reached toward her automatically and used a fingertip to brush the moisture away. “You went as soon as you heard she was ill, did you not?”
“Yes, but she’d been after me for an age to visit and I was always too busy. If I’d gone sooner, I could have helped her.” Her voice broke again. She tried to turn aside, but then he was beside her on the seat, pulling her into his arms.
“Have your father send her some money.”
“Too little, too late. Couldn’t you see she’s dying?” She struggled to pull away, but at his gentle but persistent hold, she finally collapsed against him, her breath coming in shaky little rasps as she fought her tears. “Besides, she would probably not accept.”
“Why do you say that?”
She looked up at him seriously, her deep blue eyes midnight mysteries that, though she did not know it, were incredibly sensuous and inviting to a man like Seth, who was drawn to enigmas. “You should allow a woman some pride. We do have it, you know. Just like men.”
An arrested look appeared in his eyes and he looked at her as if he’d never seen her, really seen her, before now. “Actually, I do know that. I have observed it, especially in women of character.” He held her a bit closer.
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