Temptation & Twilight

by Charlotte Featherstone

  Oh, stupid, pigheaded fool that she was. She had let her pride get the better of her, and now she was trapped here, quite alone and at a madman’s mercy.

  She began to twist and cry, to claw at anything around her, searching fruitlessly for a way out of this tomb where she found herself.

  Laughter echoing off the walls made her stiffen, made her skin pull taut in fear, her nerves tense with the need to take flight and protect herself.

  “It’s quite useless, you stupid chit,” the voice said, and she stilled, cocked her head to the side. She knew that voice. Despite the darkness, she recalled the sound of it from the deep recess of her mind, from memories long past, nearly forgotten.

  “Yes,” the voice said again. “You thought it over? Well, my dear, I’m here to tell you it’s just begun. And in the end, I will be back where I should have always been.” Oh, dear God, it couldn’t be. It was the ether, poison-ing her mind. She pulled, stretched, feeling frightened, horrified. He laughed, and all the memories came rushing back, horrible memories, painful ones. She could hardly speak, could scarcely believe her own thoughts.

  But that laugh, the demonic sound of it could belong to no one else. “Adrian?” she choked out, fear making her voice hoarse. “No, it can’t be!”

  “Can’t it, sister? My, it’s unbelievable you’ve managed to put it all together, and being blind as a bat, too.

  Astonishing, really. But, then, you always were a smart little bitch.”

  Oh, it was him; utterly impossible, but true. The knowledge made her want to retch, to cast out what little contents of her stomach remained. Her skin was positively crawling, as if covered with ants.

  “How did you know, after all these years?” he asked.

  “It’s your voice. Your tone. The mocking way you always had.”

  “You mean my years in France have not altered it? Do I still have that…ducal authority in my voice?” In the darkness, she searched for a reason, an explanation. No, it couldn’t be. Adrian was in Yorkshire, on his honeymoon with Lucy. This was not Adrian. Not her brother. This was…it was the brother she had once known, the cruel taunting young man from long ago who cared for no one but himself, risen from the dead like an evil entity.

  “How can this be?” she demanded, struggling to make sense of her thoughts. She wanted it to be from the effects of the ether, prayed it was so, but knew it wasn’t. Some- one, Adrian York—the real Adrian York—was alive, and standing right beside her. “How?” she rasped.

  “Because our father left me for dead, threw me in a horse cart full of rotting vegetables, and left me wounded and bleeding. He thought me dead, and did his all to hide the fact. And then he placed his bastard son in my place.

  And you, being useless and blind, never knew the difference.”

  Yes, she had known the difference. The man who was her brother was kind and loving. This creature… He was a monster. But then, Adrian always had been. He’d been the image of their father in deed and thought. This, she thought with a measure of fear and disgust, was the true Adrian York. And she knew now what he wanted. Revenge.

  “I see Mother’s affliction has claimed you. What is it like, Elizabeth, to be an invalid and weak?”

  “I’m not an invalid,” she declared. “I’m not weak.”

  “I could kill you here, and no one but the rats would discover your body. I’d say you are indeed very weak.” A surge of fury, of a fierce protectiveness, shot through her. He wanted the Brethren Guardians. He wanted her brother. “What do you want with him, Adrian?” she demanded. “After all these years, why now?”

  “My rightful place is what I want. The bastard impostor dead, my title restored to me. The artefacts of the Brethren Guardians in my possession.”

  “To do what?” she railed.

  “To discover if the powers that are supposedly contained within them are real. To see for myself if the blood of an innocent can create alchemy, and give me the powers to possess divine knowledge. I want the power, Elizabeth, the means to be whatever it is I want.”

  “And if they have no power?”

  “They do. Our ancestors would not have risked life and limb to flee the Holy Land if there was not some truth behind the story. Our forebears would not have kept the relics safe from the eyes of the world. No, there is magic and power there.”

  “The others won’t allow it.”

  He snorted and moved closer, but then stumbled, cursed, and it was then that Lizzy realized her brother was not immune to their mother’s malady.

  “How much sight do you have left, Adrian? It’s rather disconcerting, isn’t it, as it slowly fades day by day, until it is completely extinguished.” He growled, his hand shot out and he wrapped his fingers around her throat. “I can see well enough to choke the light out of you. Remember that.”

  “But not well enough to carry out this plan of yours by yourself.”

  “I am the brains of it, if not the brawn,” he muttered.

  “It hardly matters now, Elizabeth, because I’m going to win this game. I’m going to beat the Brethren. And do you know why? It’s because I have patience. I learned it during my time in France, healing from wounds. I watched a spider weave his web as I lay in bed. So patiently he weaved it, meticulously following his pattern, moving in the same direction, weaving always in the same pattern. Come the morning I would knock down his night’s work, yet he would be back, weaving, night after night, patiently constructing that web for his prey. And then one day I allowed him to keep his web. I watched as he patiently finished it. And I watched as he lured his victims. It was then that I learned from the spider. How to plan. How to be patient. How to lie in wait.”

  “You’re mad!”

  “I always was, Elizabeth. Didn’t you realize how very different we were? You were an angel and I was a demon.

  Unlike you, I’m not afraid of the darkness. I embrace it.”

  “You won’t win, Adrian. How will you do it, kill us all?” She scoffed. “Do you think the authorities won’t search for the others? How will you explain it when so many peers go missing?”

  “My dear, you’ve underestimated me, and the depths of my revenge. It will work out. Just you wait. Once all is assembled, it will unfold before your very eyes. Not that you will see it, of course.” He laughed, released his hold on her neck. “I hope you’re not relying on the dear marquis to save you.”

  Her heart sank at the mention of Iain. What a fool she’d been. She wished to reverse time. Wished she had encouraged him to stay. She wished that she might have one more chance to see him, and say what she needed to.

  “My accomplice has taken quite a fancy to him, you know. I’m afraid he’ll be gone for a long while. I do hope you said your farewells.”

  She lunged at him, connecting with him, hitting him.

  She’d come from the side and he was surprised. She heard that shocked breath, and knew that he could only see objects directly in front of him. It had been that way with her. The dimming of her vision, reduced to shadows and shapes, with no peripheral vision.

  He tossed her back against the stone wall and she cried out as she hit her head. Her night rail was falling and the stone scraped her skin. “I should bury you alive in that pit I dug. One false move, Elizabeth, and I will toss you into that grave.”

  He left her then.

  Elizabeth by rights should be terrified, but she was not. For she knew where she was now: beneath the Templar church, in the crypts where Sheldon had taken her.

  Behind her, the sound of a heavy iron door closing made her stop and listen. That was not the door Sheldon had used. That door had been wood. The one her brother had just closed was definitely iron.

  She had her bearings, and began to crawl on her hands and knees, her hands blindingly groping the dirt in an attempt to not only locate the pit that had been dug, but to avoid it.

  She just needed to reach that door. She needed to find Iain—needed to save them both.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

&nb
sp; HOW HAD HE GOTTEN HERE? Iain had no clue. His head still pounded and the taste of ether made him gag. His shoulder burned like the devil’s tongue, too. He’d been stabbed, leaving his arm stiff and painful, and no doubt fetid.

  The steps to Sussex’s town house seemed an enormous mountain to climb, but he endured it. Beth was gone, and he couldn’t find her. He’d been out for days searching for her, and then he had been accosted by Georgiana’s guards. He had awakened in a back room of the Adelphi, bound to the bed, semiconscious, a bottle of ether and a rag on the bedside table. Thank heavens Sutherland had discovered him, after he didn’t return home.

  By the grace of God Iain was still alive to find Sussex back from Yorkshire.

  He did not have to ring the bell. The door opened as if by magic, and the sound of a gun being cocked and pointed between his eyes greeted him.

  “You’ve saved me considerable trouble, Alynwick,” Sussex said steadily. “You traitorous bastard. I’d shoot you dead right now if I didn’t need you to tell me where my sister is.”

  “I don’t know, damn you,” he snapped, too exhausted to feel surprise at Sussex’s actions. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Orpheus is Nigel Lasseter. I’ve been to the club, but he’s gone. Georgiana—”

  “We know what you’ve done, and who you have been with, Alynwick. Betraying us. Betraying me. We found the correspondence between you and Lady Larabie, de-vising your plot. You conspired with her to steal the pendant and chalice.”

  “No!” This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t.

  Sussex was wrong; there was a mistake. “There is no evidence. There was never any plot between her and me other than the one I told you and Black about.”

  “No mistake? It was all there in your study drawer.

  You should have been more careful, but then you probably didn’t think Lizzy would write to me.” He couldn’t think. The world was suddenly spinning.

  “Damn you, Sussex, it’s a trap. I’m not one of them! I only want to find Elizabeth. Someone has taken her, and it sure as hell wasn’t me! Jesus, Adrian, listen to me.” Something flickered in Sussex’s gaze, and he slowly lowered the gun.

  “I swear,” Iain vowed, falling to his knees, “I do not know where she is. I only want to find her. We’re wasting time, Sussex, time we don’t have—time that is running out for Elizabeth. If you cannot believe me about anything else, then believe me about this. I love your sister. And I just… Christ! I just want to find her. I can’t waste any more time knowing she’s out there all by herself. You can do whatever you want with me, but after I find Elizabeth and bring her home. For the love of God, man, I’ve never asked anything of you, but I am asking now, help me find your sister!”

  “MY LORD, it’s no good,” Sutherland pleaded as Iain alighted from the carriage and staggered into the dank, damp alleyway. The snow was melting, making everything wet. The fog wafted in from the Thames, blanketing the city in a grey cloak. It was cold, but Iain was already too numb to sense it. Tilting his head, he gazed up at the windows, drapes pulled tightly shut, and tried to concentrate. Perhaps he had missed something. Another hidden door. A secret passageway.

  “You’re bloody exhausted, filthy and wounded. Not to mention the fact that you’ve already ripped apart the House of Orpheus twice. She’s no’ there, my lord.” With a snarl, Alynwick lashed out at his valet. “What would you have me do, Sutherland? Leave the woman I love to the fates while I go and soak in my tub?”

  “Use your blasted head!” Sutherland retorted. “Think!

  And you canna do that when you’ve no reserves of energy left. Yer tapped out. Not thinking straight. You need a meal, at the very least to get you thinking clear.”

  “There’s no time,” he grumbled, brushing past the man.

  “If you keep retracing steps you’ve already taken, you’ll be wasting more time. My lord, please. Let me see to your wounds, feed you, and then we can begin thinking of what new steps we might take.”

  “I can’t slow down. I…can’t.”

  “You won’t allow yourself a minute’s rest because deep down you’re afraid she’s already lost to you.”

  “Enough! Elizabeth is… She’s all right,” he mumbled, refusing to look inside and examine the very large hole gaping in his chest. “There’s…time left. She’s strong, so much stronger than I ever gave her credit for.”

  “Come into the carriage and we’ll go home.”

  “No, I can’t. Elizabeth. Her rooms. Maybe I’ve overlooked something. I’ll go there.”

  “You’ve already searched them. Besides, by now Sussex will have gone over them with a fine-tooth comb.”

  “Then the club. I have to go there. Look again.” “This club is done, my lord. The leads are gone. Orpheus has vanished.”

  “No, he’s still in the city, hiding. But where…?” He needed to think…. Where would Orpheus go?

  Where could he hide with Elizabeth so he wouldn’t arouse suspicion? Iain needed to know his enemy. The unfortunate part was, he didn’t know him. But there was one person who did.

  “YES?” THE BUTLER asked, his lips curled in disdain as he stood looking up at Iain.

  “Alynwick to see Lord Sheldon, immediately.”

  “I’m afraid his lordship is indisposed. You will have to return tomorrow.”

  “Damn you, man, get Sheldon. A woman’s life depends upon it.”

  “Who is it?” a voice boomed from the hall.

  “It is Lord Alynwick, my lord, requesting an audience.

  Are you at home?”

  What an idiotic question! Iain didn’t bother to wait, but shoved past the pompous butler and into the hall, where he stumbled.

  “Good God, what happened to you?” Sheldon demanded.

  “Later,” Iain muttered.

  “When have you last slept or eaten?” the earl enquired, looking at him in his bedraggled state. “You’re gaunt and exhausted. It’s been days, by the looks of it.” Suspicion suddenly lit his eyes, and he motioned Iain into his study.

  Tired, terrified, Iain humbled himself by falling to his knees. “Elizabeth is gone—has been for days. Lasseter has her. Sheldon,” Iain pleaded, no longer caring how he appeared. He thought only of Elizabeth’s well-being now.

  “I need your help. You know him better than any of us.” Reaching out his hand, Sheldon offered it to him and helped him up. “You have it. Toth,” he called to the butler, “send around for the carriage. Also, tell Mrs. At-kins to bundle up something for Lord Alynwick to eat.

  Jack!” Sheldon shouted for his dog, who came prancing out of the study. “Toth, send a missive around to Black and Sussex that they are to meet me at Temple Church, but are not to go in, but wait for my command. My bag, as well,” he muttered.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “I mean to be gone within ten minutes, Toth. I want action, now!”

  “At once, my lord!”

  “Now,” Sheldon demanded as he reached for his greatcoat. “Tell me everything I need to know.” Iain held nothing back, not even the story of the Brethren Guardians, and the relics. Secrets could only harm Elizabeth now, and those about the Brethren Guardians were what had started this whole business. Elizabeth was lost to him because of the Guardians. He’d be damned if his insufferable pride would aid her death.

  “YOU STILL HAVEN’T figured it out, have you?” Sheldon asked. It was dark in the carriage, and the gentle swaying was making Iain’s eyes want to close in sleep. But he fought it. He felt a measure of strength returning after having eaten some cold gammon and bread with cheese.

  The steaming mug of mulled wine lit a fire in his belly, warming him, making his senses feel somewhat brighter than they had. He’d been ready to collapse at Sheldon’s feet when he had first entered the man’s house.

  “Figured out what?” he asked, wiping his face with his palm. He heard the sound of his night beard bristling against his hand. He must look a sight.

  “Who I am.”

  It was ut
tered very quietly, and Iain glanced up sharply. “I thought you a detective for Scotland Yard.”

  “I am. But there’s more.”

  Iain groaned. He’d thought as much, but he was in no mental or physical condition to do anything about it. If Sheldon was indeed his enemy, he would be at his mercy.

  He had needed help, and perhaps his need had placed him at greater risk.

  “Elizabeth told me that you were helping her decipher the diary of the mysterious Veiled Lady. Did she not tell you?” Was that gloating Iain heard? No, it wasn’t superiority, but surprise. It was there in Sheldon’s eyes. “I thought… Well, she made it quite clear that while I was infinitely likable, she felt, at least for now, that she wasn’t ready to elevate me to more than a friend.” It wasn’t the time to feel elation in the fact that Elizabeth was not interested in the earl, but Iain was only human.

  “It was the morning of Sussex’s marriage. I thought perhaps the duke might take Elizabeth away with him, so I made an early morning call and persuaded her to come to Temple Church with me. I was hoping that a tour of the crypts might leave a lasting impression, as it were.”

  “And did it?” Iain found himself growling. Damn it, she had been alone with Sheldon, and she’d never confided in him. All those conversations they had shared, the ones that had exposed each other’s flaws and weaknesses.

  Iain had thought there was nothing else he might discover about her, but he was wrong. He should have known, even factored in Elizabeth’s staunch loyalty. After all, she had kept their secrets. Why not this one?

  “I can see the workings of your mind, Alynwick, and let me put a stop to them at once. While Elizabeth enjoyed herself immensely that morning, she did not… welcome, as I’d hoped, my declaration of interest. In other words,” he muttered, “she rebuffed my kiss and blurted out quite frankly that someone had stolen her heart years ago, and she was unable to find a way to get it back, or give it to someone new. Naturally, I knew you to have been the thief. Especially when she explained that she no longer needed my assistance with the book, that you had agreed to aid her.”