by Amy Richie
What was wrong with Marcus and his cousins? Marcus had stayed away the entire night, then allowed a strange man to come into my room while I slept–and now Sylvia was acting strange. What was she talking about permission? Marcus had already said we were staying here–hadn’t he said this was the Letrell House?
“But I don’t understand,” I raised myself slowly off the bed. “Isn’t this your house?”
“No,” she snapped. “It’s not my house. Look, Claudia, I don’t make the rules–I think they are as stupid as you do, but that doesn’t change things.”
“What rules?” I was getting more confused the longer she talked.
“It’s not a big deal that you are here, but the situation,” she cast a sideways look at the door, “isn’t ideal.”
“It’s not,” I was still stuttering, trying to catch up. Just last night, Marcus had said… hadn’t he said?
She licked her lips in a nervous gesture. “You have to go see,” she paused and took a quick breath, “You have to go see Silango.” She half whispered his name. I thought I heard a hiss outside the bedroom door, but she paid no attention to it.
“Who?”
“Just get dressed,” she said with an elegant roll of her eyes. “You,” she pointed to the man she had called Rueben, “Out.”
I hadn’t even realized he was still in the room. I pulled the covers up self-consciously. He didn’t say a word; he just ducked his head and obeyed Sylvia. I couldn’t say that I blamed him.
“Here,” she put some clothes at the end of the bed and came to help me get the nightgown over my head. I raised my arms obediently.
When our eyes met, I felt strangely safe. After everything that had changed with Marcus, I was suddenly more grateful than ever that Sylvia was there with me. I didn’t cry again as I wanted to; instead, I let Sylvia half dress me while I tried to help. I must have been too slow for her, though, because several times she snatched a garment out of my hands and put it on for me.
“What is he like?” I whispered as we went down the steps.
“Shh,” she whispered back.
At the foot of the stairs were Marcus, David, and the strange man who had been in my room earlier. I still felt wobbly and seeing them standing there didn’t help my nerves.
“Marcus,” I smiled at him nervously, but he didn’t return the smile right away.
“Did you sleep well, Claudia?” he asked stiffly.
“Not particularly.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, but he only nodded and looked at the floor. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he murmured.
“Who is Silango?” I blurted out.
He blanched pale and looked quickly at David. “I shouldn’t have brought you here,” he almost growled.
“But you said…”
“I know what I said.” He swallowed thickly. “That was last night though.”
What had changed since last night? I was still his wife. He still loved me–didn’t he? Worry pulled tightly at my lips. Maybe Marcus had changed his feelings for me. Did he regret marrying me? He had said he didn’t want to get married–ever.
I sucked in a deep breath. Nothing could be changed now. Even if he was having second thoughts about me–it was too late now.
Was this all because of this Silango character? It seemed as if he was the reason Marcus had changed. I squared my shoulders, determined to find out all I could about this unseen enemy. No way would I let him take my husband from me.
“Why do I have to meet Silango? Who is he to you?”
“I guess you’ll find out soon enough,” he sneered.
I bit my bottom lip as hard as I could, trying hard not to cry. It wouldn’t be right to cry in front of all these people, especially Rueben.
Marcus still hadn’t introduced us, but Rueben was standing close to his side. They obviously knew each other. I wondered if Marcus knew that Rueben had been in my room.
“You ready to go?” David asked nervously. He gave me a small smile of encouragement, but I didn’t miss the look he shot Marcus.
“Yeah,” I replied in a small voice.
Chapter Twenty-One
The carriage pulled up to a very large and extravagant white house. Before I could get all the way out, Sylvia pulled me back in. “You’ll have to ask Silango yourself,” she whispered.
I shot a panicked look to Marcus, but he already had his back to me. “What do I say?” I asked Sylvia.
She shook her head. “It isn’t going to matter what you say.”
“What?”
“Come on, we’re here,” Marcus ordered from outside the carriage. Sylvia let go of my arm and followed me onto the street. Marcus glared at her with a dark look. I flinched back in fear, but Sylvia just met his glare head on.
“Hey,” David cut them off from their silent battle, “let’s go in.” He gave me a halfhearted smile and led the way up to the large doors.
The door opened before David could knock on it. The others had already steeled their expressions and so I was the only one looking nervous when we entered the grand house. I kept my hands hung at my side, but only with extreme determination. It seemed more natural to have them wrapped around me in a protective cocoon.
The drapes in the house were kept drawn and there was only one candle lit in the foyer, so it was very dark. I struggled to adjust to the poor lighting; I really didn’t want to trip or fall. Sylvia kept a safe distance away from me. I looked around the room, searching for the still mysterious Silango.
“Where is he?” I asked Sylvia.
She didn’t answer me, or even look my way. The others walked purposefully into the hall. I followed. “Who is it you are looking for?” came a distinctly male voice. I whirled around in surprise. His voice left me oddly breathless. A light came on suddenly, flooding the hall in an eerie brightness.
“I think I was looking for you,” I answered as if I’d just run a long distance. A man was standing at the top of the staircase. He seemed like a character right out of the scary stories I had heard when I was a little girl still living in the States with my parents. No wonder he made Sylvia nervous.
His eyes were bright, almost translucent. I sucked in my breath while he stared at me. His hair was long, so blond that it was practically white. He had it pulled tightly back in a ponytail. His jaw was straight and defined. He jutted his pale chin out just slightly as he appraised me. His long, bony fingers strummed a steady beat on the railing.
“What are you thinking, child?’ he said so softly that at first I wasn’t sure he had spoken at all.
My eyes must have nearly bulged out of my face. His stony lips curled into a hint of a smile. “Nothing,” I said automatically.
“Hmm.” His eyes moved slowly from my feet up to my face. “Your name?’ he demanded.
“Claudia Sinclair.” I was surprised that my voice came out so clear.
One of his eyebrows arched dramatically. “I was told that you had taken the name Letrell.” He descended the steps with exaggerated slowness.
“Y…yes, I…I have.”
He stopped just inches away from me. The lines in his face were even more severe up close. I sucked in a deep gulp of air and held it there.
“How do you find the life of Marcus’s wife?” he almost snarled out the last word.
I was absolutely positive that the truth would not be welcome here. I shrugged a little, unable to think of what I should say. “It’s fine,” I finally responded.
“Fine?” Both eyebrows shot up. “Marcus,” he addressed Marcus without taking his eyes off of me, “you are not fulfilling your duties as a husband, it would seem.”
“He’s…”
“And such a lovely wife,” he didn’t acknowledge my strangled attempt to defend him, “you’d best not neglect her or someone is liable to steal her away.” One of his long fingers reached up to trace my jaw line in a feather light touch.
I shuddered at the feeling of ice on my face. I nodded for Marcus when I didn’t hear
his response.
“Ah well,” Silango smiled wide, making my heart stop again. A stray thought filtered through my mind. Had Silango been the one outside my window? Was he Ryan?
“Come, let me embrace you,” he ordered. His words weren’t unkind, but I felt ice creep along in my veins at his request.
With a single shaking step, I was leaning into his ice-cold embrace. He didn’t wrap his arms tight around me in a comforting way, but I felt his hands along my back. He leaned his face into my hair and inhaled deeply. “Mmm,” he let out a raspy sound.
I tried to step back, but his arms didn’t loosen. It was awkward standing there wishing he would let me go. Finally, he stepped away and gazed down at me. His eyes were shining with something more than admiration. Once again, I felt like bolting back out the door.
I peeked up at Marcus under my lowered lashes. He wasn’t looking at me. He wasn’t really looking at anyone. His jaw was clenched so tightly, the muscle twitched at a rapid rhythm. I couldn’t even tell where Sylvia was standing.
Suddenly, Silango’s expression changed. It was as if he was abruptly bored with me. He started to turn around as if to retreat back up the stairs without saying anything more. I took a step forward, but before I could say anything, Sylvia was at my side.
She grabbed my fingers and flashed me the briefest of smiles. Her eyes were dancing with excitement. Had I missed something? “Is he going to let me stay?”
“Yes,” she looked at me as if I was crazy and shook her head.
“But he didn’t say anything,” I reminded her.
“You are still alive, aren’t you?” she widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows at me.
“Oh,” I said weakly.
She giggled happily and took my hand. “Let’s go home,” she said happily. She was childishly excited as she pulled me along behind her.
Once we were outside of the house, Marcus pressed his hand onto my back. I looked up at him as he guided me into the carriage. He still wasn’t smiling, but he seemed less tense at least.
He took Sylvia’s place beside me on the seat and pressed his hand firmly into mine. “We’ll be able to return to Hamel soon,” he declared softly.
I couldn’t understand what had just happened. Why did it matter if Silango accepted me? What if he had said no? Would Marcus have made me leave?
I remembered before Marcus and I had married–when we were out in the woods. He had said then that he would never marry anyone. Was that because of Silango? How could he have so much control over someone like Marcus? Marcus seemed so strong and independent. It had seemed like he didn’t have to answer to anyone. Both his parents were gone and as far as I could tell, he had no aunts and uncles to take over their places. So, who was Silango?
I sighed and shifted in my seat. Why couldn’t Marcus be like he had been in Hamel? He was so happy then–so much in love. In Hamel, he had risked his own life just to save mine. Now that we were in London, he let strange men into my bedroom and even stranger men hug me.
I looked up at him, but his teeth were still clenched tight together. He wasn’t anything like the man I had met in Hamel.
I sighed deep. “Marcus,” I began cautiously.
“Yes?” He half smiled down at me, causing my heart to flip-flop in my chest.
“Who was that man?”
“Silango,” he answered automatically.
“Yeah, but…”
“Claudia, just drop it, okay? Everything is fine now.”
I really wanted to believe that.
I sat back in my seat and watched as the busy street passed me by. As a little girl, I had secretly planned for the day I would come to London. I would wear expensive gowns that swept all the way down to the floor. Twenty servants would help me get ready for a ball. They would tug at my hair until it sat perfectly on top of my head. Tiny perfect curls would trail down my slender neck. Dainty white slippers would adorn my feet, slippers that didn’t pinch my toes.
I would stand at the top of an elegant staircase holding my breath from excitement. All the eyes in the hall would raise until they caught site of me. They would all smile or just stare because I was so beautiful.
And from the crowd, far in the back, would step forward a man. He would be so handsome that I blushed just from looking at him. Without a word, he would hold his hand out and without the slightest hesitation, I would place my hand in his. Then we’d practically float down the steps on our way to the dance floor. Everyone around us would clap as he twirled me around in the waltz. And I knew every step.
I sighed sadly in my seat beside Marcus. The prince in my daydreams never had dark hair and he was always smiling. He would never even think of scowling at me.
It startled me when Marcus leaned down to wipe a tear from my face. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Claudia,” Sylvia grabbed my attention as soon as we got back to the house.
“Yes?”
“Come into the parlor with me,” she demanded kindly.
I looked back at Marcus, but he still hovered by the doorway, not yet sure if he was coming in or leaving. He met my eyes briefly, but looked away just as quickly, “You go on with Sylvia,” he ordered. “I have to go out for a while.”
Again? Where was he going this time? Of course, I didn’t have a chance to ask him. He was gone before I had even turned completely away. I sighed angrily and headed off in the direction of the parlor.
I huffed heavily as I sank into the seat opposite Sylvia. One of her pencil thin eyebrows shot up her forehead. “You okay, Claud?”
“Just fantastic!” I crossed my arms and leaned against the back of my seat.
“Good!” she beamed her smile over to where David sat.
“Where is he going?”
David surprised me by answering instead of Sylvia. Now that Silango accepted me, it seemed David was able to as well. “He went with Rueben.”
“You mean that man that was in my room? Who is he? Why did Marcus let him into my room?”
“That’s his brother, and he was in your room to protect you.”
“His brother?” My mouth fell open. I whipped my head around to Sylvia. “I thought you said they wouldn’t be here?”
She shrugged carelessly, unaffected by my accusation. “Something came up. Anyways,” she placed her hands flat on the small table in front of her and pushed a small card in my direction. “We have received our first invitation,” she whispered excitedly.
“Invitation to what?” I eyed the card warily.
“Claudia,” she whined. “We’re going to a ball.” She sucked in a deep breath and waited for my reaction.
“Marcus would never go.”
“Who needs him?” she waved away my excuse.
“He’s my husband.” Did she really need to be reminded?
“And?”
“Sylvia.”
She sighed deeply and pulled the card back to look at it. “The annual Westryn Ball,” she announced. “Held in memory of their dead daughter.”
I pulled my eyebrows down disapprovingly. “I think it’s a nice gesture.”
“Oh, please,” she rolled her beautiful eyes. “The girl has been dead now for eleven years. And,” she held her finger up before I could give voice to my opinion, “She wasn’t even old enough to be out.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I grumbled.
She crinkled her dainty nose and rose gracefully from her seat. “It’s time to go.”
“Where are we going? Is the ball now? I have nothing suitable to wear.”
“We are going to remedy that situation,” her eyes traveled down my well–worn dress.
“What?”
“And of course the ball isn’t now, Claudia. I don’t know what Hamel is like, but we would never have a party in the middle of the day here!”
I followed close to her heels, still unsure where we were going. It wasn’t until we were both sitting across from each other in the carriage tha
t she told me our destination. “We’re going shopping.”
“Shopping?”
“For a new dress,” she clapped her hands, pleased with herself.
I sat back with a huff. “Oh.”
“You need to smile,” Sylvia ordered.
I obediently flashed my teeth. “There.”
“Do better than that.”
“I already told you I didn’t want to go.”
“What woman doesn’t want to go shopping?”
“Me.”
“I thought you wanted a new dress.”
I sighed heavily. It was true that I wanted a new dress. More than anything, I wanted a long pale green dress to match my eyes. I had not owned a green dress since I was 13. I had borrowed one once from Ada Darby, but she was years older than me, so that style was painfully out of date.
“Which color dress do you want?” Sylvia prompted.
“We’ll have to see which colors they even have.”
“This isn’t Hamel, Claudia; you can have any color you want.” She worked her face into a playful scowl.
“I guess,” I shrugged, “if I had my choice, I’d want a green gown.”
“Green is a perfect choice,” she exclaimed. “It will bring the color out in your eyes. And your hair wouldn’t look so…” She twisted her hands out in front of her.
“What’s wrong with my hair?” I self-consciously reached up to pat down the wild array of curls.
“Nothing,” she chuckled. “It’s just so…red.”
“And you think a green dress would somehow make my hair less red?”
She shook her head, still laughing. “I love your hair, Claudia.” Her laughter took some of the truth out of her declaration.
The bell above the door made a happy jingling sound when Sylvia and I entered the small dress shop. As soon as we went in, it was like we had entered an entirely different world. It was a world of colorful fabric and shiny new buttons, a world that I had only ever dreamed about. Miss Mason’s shop in Hamel suddenly seemed too small for words.
I stood just inside the door with my mouth slightly open, trying to take in all I was seeing. “It’s so beautiful,” I half whispered to myself.
