Temptation & Twilight

by Charlotte Featherstone

  It took me months to recover.”

  “So Lasseter and Marie stole the cache and began selling off pieces to fund their return to England.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You said you told this story to Elizabeth. Why? What interest would she have in it?”

  “I was hoping to discover if either you or Sussex had any connection with Lasseter. I already knew there was a very thin connection to Black. I did not learn of your link until tonight, till I saw you with the woman I know as Marie.”

  “You will not find more than that, Sheldon. I personally guarantee it.”

  “Well, when I woke from my extended sleep, I informed Special Branch of what had happened, alerting them to the fact that I believed Lasseter to be on the run, and most likely headed to London. Where else can one get lost in the throngs of humanity?”

  “And they separated,” Iain mused. “They knew Scotland Yard would be looking for two people, a man and a woman.”

  “It would appear so. And in the meantime, Marie found a new persona, and was able to dupe poor old lecherous Larabie into marrying her. No doubt Larabie is unwittingly supplying Lasseter with money to keep afloat.” Sheldon sat forward and peered into Iain’s eyes.

  There was an implacable determination in his gaze. “I want him, Alynwick, and Marie, too. I want them to stand trial, to suffer for their crimes.”

  “I want him as well, but for something very different.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Is it illegal?”

  “No.” How could he confide in Sheldon about the Brethren Guardians? He couldn’t. Absolutely could not betray Black and Sussex, no matter the cost. But he did need to know how Lasseter knew so much about them, and what he was planning on doing with the information.

  “You will have to take my word for it, Sheldon,” he said at last. “My reason for wanting him is my own. If I get him first, I’ll hand him over to you after I’m done with my questioning. If you manage to get him before me, I ask only that I am allowed to interrogate him—in private.”

  “And you swear to me that there is nothing more to it than that?”

  “The matter is a long one, Sheldon. A matter of family, and secrets. But as far as I know, nothing illegal.

  And nothing to do with what he did in France, or what he did to you.”

  Sheldon sat back and studied him thoughtfully. “I’ll let you keep your secrets, Alynwick. For now. But at some point I fear that they might all come tumbling out.”

  “Then I shall have to deal with it, won’t I? Until then, I will keep them to myself.”

  Rising from his chair, Sheldon stuck out his hand. “To a temporary truce—in this matter.” Iain accepted the handshake, knowing they shared a truce in the business of Lasseter and the House of Orpheus. But the matter of Elizabeth, he knew, was far from settled.

  “HAVE A CARE, Elizabeth. The steps are uneven and crumbling. There now,” Sheldon said, clasping her hand carefully. “Two more steps and you’ll be standing on the floor, which is really quite uneven, so you’ll have to hold on to me.”

  The smell of earth and mould burned her nose. The sound of water tapping against stone echoed in the distance. Jack’s bark ricocheted off the walls, which she imagined were curved medieval arches carved into the stone. Here she was, beneath the Templar church, where no soul had ventured in hundreds of years. What secrets awaited discovery? What treasures were to be found?

  How she wished she possessed sight so that she might see the great arching caverns, the crypts made of stone, complete with effigies of knights who had served hundreds of years ago.

  Jack barked again, only this time he took off running down the corridor, his paws scratching against the dirt and stones.

  “Jack!” Sheldon growled, then called, “Jack, come back here!”

  “Oh, dear, has he run off?” Elizabeth asked. She heard the whoosh of the flame from Julian’s torch, knew that he had lifted it high in the air to illuminate the passageway. The atmosphere was damp and close, heavy with the scents of earth and mildew. Elizabeth held her free arm out to the side and found her fingers touching a slick stone wall.

  “It’s very narrow, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed, typical of Templar buildings. Designed to take only two abreast,” Sheldon murmured as he carefully led her along the uneven dirt floor. “But the etch-ings are incredible, Elizabeth. Preserved and intact from the sands of time. It’s as if they were entirely forgotten.

  And maybe they have been, for all we know.”

  “I can hear your excitement,” she said, smiling. “I can feel it.”

  “Discovery. There’s nothing like it.”

  “No, there isn’t. I can almost sense what it must have been like for you when you discovered the Templar cache in Temple Mount.”

  “Nearly as exciting as this.” He held her hand tighter, moved her gently to the left to avoid an object on the ground. “I’m so glad you allowed me this. I know it’s early yet in the day for calls, and with your brother’s wedding this afternoon, well, I thought there was no better time, especially since you’ll be leaving for Yorkshire. I knew you wouldn’t have another chance to visit Temple Church.”

  “Oh, no, I was most happy to be invited.” She had needed this diversion. She hadn’t slept well last night, with her thoughts focused on Iain and what he had done to her in her room, before the mirror. And worse, what he had made her feel. Try as she might she hadn’t been able to stop thinking of him, not even when she had attempted to concentrate on the diary, and recall the passages that had once kept her so amused. When a few of the entries did come to mind, they only made her think of Iain, and their past, and the things he had whispered in her ear. Things that might become their future, if she allowed herself to fall once more.

  “How long will you be gone?” Julian asked, drawing her from her memories.

  “Oh, I’m not going to Yorkshire. I’ve decided to stay in town.”

  “Indeed?”

  Smiling, she reached out and smoothed her palm over the rough edges of the stone wall. “Yes. I didn’t want to be a killjoy to Lucy and Adrian on their honeymoon.”

  “How could you ever be that?” the earl asked, and Elizabeth heard the way his voice dropped, became husky in the quiet. Suddenly she was nervous. And uncertain.

  “Here, move your hand over an inch.” She jumped like a startled doe at the contact of his warm fingers.

  She should never have come today, but she had wanted to escape the house, her room, her thoughts of Iain. And Sheldon’s offer to tour the crypts of Temple Church had seemed like just the thing to take her mind off her worries. But now, having him so close, feeling his hand guiding hers over the elevated carvings, seemed far too intimate and disturbing.

  “It’s an image of a Templar,” he murmured. “No name, but the etching is fully intact. There’s even an emerald in the hilt of his sword.”

  “Beautiful.” She breathed the word as her fingers came into contact with the emerald, which felt as large as a grape.

  “Yes. It is. Come, there is more to discover by the looks of it.”

  Lizzy followed, holding on to Sheldon’s arm as he led her deeper into the cavern.

  “While we walk, tell me more about this diary you have, Elizabeth,” he suggested as he took her hand and began guiding her once more down the dirt path of the crypt. “I’ve been most fascinated by the opportunity to aid you.”

  And here it was. The time had come. There was nothing to be done but to lie to Julian. It was the only way she could avoid arousing his suspicions, keeping him from making a connection with her family and the three Templars.

  “As I said, I found the diary in a little shop. There is nothing to identify the knight, other than he was a Templar away on Crusade. It outlines an affair with a woman he met while over there. Very little is given about her identity other than she was a great beauty, and a lady of renown and influence. He writes that many men bowed to her.”


  “Could it have been the King of Jerusalem’s sister?”

  “Baldwin IV’s sister, Sybilla? Why would you ask?” “She was known to have had many lovers, and was often intrigued by the Knights Templar.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that, although I feel it unlikely.

  The diary does not explicitly say that the woman escaped the Holy Land with him, but there are accounts in the diary that led me to believe the writer had occasion to see the woman throughout his life. It was a great source of agony for him, as they were forced to endure separate lives, their love a secret.”

  “It cannot be her then, for her story is well docu-mented. She did not leave the Holy Land during her lifetime.”

  “A very good guess, however. I do think that the woman was from the East, because he often praised her olive skin, ebony hair and dark eyes. At the very least, she dressed in the Eastern style.”

  “Perhaps one of the king’s concubines? He had a favoured one, Marguerite. Her father was of the French aristocracy, her mother a beautiful Eastern houri who became his lover. It is said that Baldwin’s love for her was the most perfect love, for he never touched her, only watched her dance. He was a leper, if you recall. And to have had…well, carnal knowledge of her would have condemned her to his fate.”

  “Such a horrible disease, and rather kind of Baldwin, considering the times. Women were merely pawns then, even more than today.”

  “Empires were born through the female line back then.

  And Jerusalem’s kings were no different.”

  “You know, now that you mention this Marguerite, I’m reminded of how the knight met his Veiled Lady.

  He claimed she appeared first in a dream. He dreamed of her for three nights, and then one evening, while supping with the king, he saw her, behind shimmering veils and a golden screen. He had pleaded with her to remove her veil, but she would not.”

  “We shall have to do more work to uncover this mystery. But it sounds as good a place as any to start.” Julian reached for Elizabeth’s hand once more, and helped her over a bit of crumbling stone. “Now that you are not leaving for Yorkshire, perhaps we might meet to go over this diary.”

  “Yes, that would be lovely.” Strangely, she no longer felt any excitement for it. She could not invite Sheldon in to look at it, could not let him discover Sinjin’s name. Not only that, but every time she thought of Sinjin’s romance, she could not help thinking of Iain and their own affair.

  Despite how dangerous it was to be near him, the only person she could imagine sharing the diary with was him.

  What a fool she had been to tell Sheldon of the book.

  So impulsive, so…stupid. She hadn’t been thinking clearly, hadn’t thought through anything. She’d been mad, and sulking over her banishment from the Brethren. And this, she thought with disgust, was the reason Iain had been right to suggest that she be kept away. She was a hindrance. If Sheldon discovered their secret, she’d be the cause.

  “You’re trembling. Are you cold?”

  “It is quite damp down here, isn’t it?” She hated lying, but could not reasonably admit the truth—that a sudden image of Iain, his lips caressing her shoulder, had come into her head, leaving her trembling.

  “Lizzy.” Julian halted her, turned her slightly with his hands on her shoulders. “Do you wish to leave? I understand if you do. The place has a peculiar feeling. One of dread and oppression, I think.”

  “Yes, there is an ominous feeling, isn’t there?” “What do you want to do, Lizzy?” he whispered. “Go, or stay with me?”

  She didn’t know what she wanted. Again, her thoughts were muddled. And then it was taken out of her hands, when Julian pressed forward, lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers in a soft kiss.

  “Lizzy,” he murmured. She did not protest, nor did she when he kissed her again, this time parting her lips, brushing his tongue along the moist seam of her mouth.

  It was a very lovely kiss. A kiss any woman would be glad to be given by a man such as Julian.

  “It’s no good, is it?” he murmured, and she wondered if he was looking down at her with eyes that shone with regret, or anger. “It’s not what you want.”

  “It is not that at all, Julian.” Gripping the sleeves of his coat, she held on to him. Tried to steady her gaze, and diffuse the blush in her cheeks. “It’s not that it wasn’t good, far from it.”

  “It’s not my lips you desire.”

  It was said in such a way that Elizabeth knew without a doubt that he suspected there was a rival for his attentions.

  “May I speak honestly, Julian?”

  “You may. I have come to depend upon your honesty, Elizabeth.”

  She forced herself to speak the words she had tried to run from. “I don’t want to hurt you, but…” Licking her lips, she pressed her eyes shut and sought deep within for the courage to be honest with him. “I like you. Very much. Another time, perhaps…”

  “We might have been lovers?” he supplied for her.

  Nodding, she scraped her teeth across her lips. “I’m afraid that I have given my heart to someone else. I thought… Well, that is, I thought I had taken it back years ago, but it seems I have not. I cannot give you more, under false pretences. Perhaps later,” she whispered. “But that isn’t fair to you, to wait to see if I could offer more.”

  “And does he know he still has your heart?”

  “No, and he never will. He isn’t the sort of man to care for a woman’s heart. I would be a fool to tell him.”

  “Lizzy, you would be a fool not to. Most men, you know, are rather terrified of the female heart. Perhaps he is just waiting for a sign from you. Let him know it’s okay for him to come to you.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “You would be surprised,” he murmured.

  “I don’t want to lose your friendship, Julian.”

  “You won’t. There is more to my interest in you than the sexual. You’re a bold, interesting woman, Elizabeth, and I find I enjoy spending time with you. That will not change simply because your feelings are not the same as mine. I will relish your friendship, and perhaps, in time, your feelings will change. If they do not, then I shall be happy to call you friend. I only hope that I have not ruined our open conversations with that ill-timed kiss.”

  “Of course you haven’t.” Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against him. His cheek, she thought. It was a warm kiss. A kiss designed for a dear friend.

  A bark from behind them made her jump. Julian reached for her, held her. “Jack, what’s this you’ve got?”

  “What is it?”

  “He’s dragging something.”

  “Let us investigate, shall we?” Taking her hand, Julian placed it on his arm and steered them to where Jack waited for them, panting with excitement and exertion. He licked her hand after releasing his hold on whatever he had found.

  “A man’s shirt. Linen. Fashionable. Most certainly not in keeping with the age of these crypts.”

  “Strange, you said you hadn’t begun excavating down here.”

  “I haven’t. Stay here, Lizzy. I will be right back.”

  “Certainly not!” she argued. “I’m coming with you.”

  “I don’t know what is around that corner. There could be danger.”

  “No, Jack would have alerted us to that. If there was someone else in this crypt with us, we would have known it. There would have been a sound when Jack came upon them.”

  “True. Well, against my better judgement, come along.

  But don’t let go of my arm.”

  They made their way along the corridor, where the scent of earth and stone became stronger. It was fresher smelling, not musty as it had been when they first entered the crypt.

  “Someone has been digging,” Julian announced, and Elizabeth felt him bend down, heard Jack’s excited yelp.

  “It’s fresh.”

  “It is a hole?” she asked.

  “Yes. Big enough to put a
body in.”

  “Do you think someone has found a Templar coffin?”

  “No. I think it far more sinister than that. Come, let’s go.”

  Jack barked again. “I think he wants to show you something else,” Lizzy suggested.

  “No, I want you out of here. I can come back and investigate the matter later.”

  Jack barked and ran off, making Julian curse. “We had better follow him. There’s no telling where the devil this tunnel leads to.”

  They walked for what seemed like forever before they came to where Jack stood quietly growling. The clank of metal against metal as the dog nosed about in the dirt drew Elizabeth’s curiosity.

  “Tools. Excavating tools,” Julian murmured.

  “But how?”

  “I don’t know, but the tunnel bends around a corner.

  It must lead somewhere.”

  “How far do you think we’ve walked? It seems like forever, and it’s damper here. Colder. The sound of water tapping is louder with a faster rhythm.”

  “Tributaries from the Thames, perhaps.”

  “Where do you think we are, Julian?”

  “We’ve traveled nearly half a mile, I think. We must be beneath the Strand.”

  A sense of foreboding wrapped around her. “This is no coincidence, Julian.”

  “No, it’s not. Come, let us make our way back to the church. It will be getting on now, and we don’t want you to be late for Sussex’s wedding.” Lizzy reached out and halted him. “What are you not telling me?”

  “I’m not hiding anything from you, Lizzy. But I mean to investigate this, and who might have come down here, and for what purpose.”

  “Do you smell that?” she asked suddenly. “It smells like…perfume.”

  Julian inhaled deeply. “I can’t smell anything but the dirt. And mould.”

  “It was a delicate scent, as if it just floated past.”

  “Jack went by with the damn shirt in his mouth. Perhaps there’s cologne on it.”

  “No, not cologne,” Elizabeth insisted. “Perfume. And I have smelt that particular scent before.” Frowning, she tried to locate the memory.