Touch of Desire

by Susan Spencer Paul

  Two of Serafina Daray’s odd-looking servants appeared out of thin air—literally—and said, “May we help you, miss?”

  “Stop her!” Serafina screeched behind them. “Stop her!”

  The servants moved to do their mistress’s bidding, but as they attempted to wrap their clawed hands about Sarah’s arms they were somehow repelled. They fell back as if she’d struck them, pressing their hands together in pain and staring at Sarah with shock. She pushed past them and started up the stairs.

  “Julius!” she shouted once more, and heard a door opening somewhere on the landing.

  “Damn you!” Serafina cried furiously.

  “Sarah, come back!” Desdemona shouted with equal wrath.

  Sarah kept climbing. She felt little shocks striking the length of her back, as if someone was slapping her bare skin, and knew that Serafina Daray was sending spells at her. She had expected to be felled by the woman’s magic almost at once, but it was as Desdemona had said: Sarah was protected from magic.

  “Julius Tamony!” she called out, racing quickly now. “Julius!” Breathless, she reached the landing and looked about. Should she go higher, to the next floor?

  “Sarah.”

  Whirling about, she saw him, standing completely naked at the open doorway of what must have been Serafina’s bedroom.

  “My God,” Sarah said before she could think not to. She’d seen her brother bereft of clothes when he was a boy, but certainly not since either one of them had passed childhood. He would be embarrassed beyond all measure when he at last came to his senses. If he remembered anything at all, which she fervently hoped he didn’t. “Julius,” she said, moving toward him with her hands held out. “Yes, it’s me, dear. You know me?”

  His gaze was confused and unfocused, but he held a hand out to meet her own and said, slowly, “I know you, Sarah.”

  “Thank heaven,” she murmured. Her fingers wrapped about his own, finding them cold as ice. “Julius, you must—”

  “Julius!” Serafina Daray had gained the landing as well. Julius stiffened at the sound of her voice, and his eyes clouded. “Strike her, Julius,” Serafina demanded. “Punish her.”

  “Julius, no,” Sarah said fervently. “It’s me, Julius. It’s Sarah. Please, listen to me—”

  His expression remained passive, but he pulled free and lifted his fisted hand high. Sarah tried to step away but knew she’d never move quickly enough to avoid the punishing blow.

  “Cesso!”

  Desdemona’s raven head appeared at the top of the stairs, one hand holding her belly as if to protect it, the other lifted toward Julius, who had frozen at the fierce command.

  Serafina emitted a wrathful high-pitched sound that made the dwelling, and everything in it, shake, just as Desdemona’s had done earlier.

  “You cannot overcome my powers,” Desdemona shouted over the noise. “Not while the child is within me. Send him away and we’ll leave you in peace.” She halted the spell of constraint. Julius’s fist relaxed and fell to his side.

  Serafina released a harsh breath; the house still trembled from her ill-contained fury.

  “Go into the room and await me, Julius,” she commanded.

  He immediately obeyed, turning and walking back into the room. Sarah watched him go in silence.

  “Leave,” Serafina demanded. “Now.”

  Sarah moved toward the stairs in defeat. She didn’t look at Serafina as she passed her.

  Rhys hurried out of the carriage the moment the door to the Daray dwelling was firmly closed behind them. Sarah blinked up into the bright afternoon sky, thankful for the light of the sun after being in such a tomblike enclosure. Desdemona released a harsh breath and whirled about, grasping Sarah by the arms and, despite being so much shorter, giving her a furious shake.

  “Don’t ever do such a thing again,” Desdemona said. “If Malachi hears of it, and he will hear of it, for he knows everything that occurs among our kind, he’ll kill me. Directly after he’s killed you, you foolish mortal. It’s all well and good for one of my power to challenge a sorceress like Serafina Daray, but you’re powerless, Sarah. It scarce matters that you’ve been protected from her magic. She has innumerable ways to harm you, and one of our kind won’t always be about to save you.”

  “God help us,” Rhys said, looking from one woman to the other. “Never tell me—Miss Tamony, you promised me quite faithfully that you’d do nothing dangerous if I made it possible for you to gain entry into Miss Daray’s dwelling.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sarah said, wincing as Desdemona’s sharp fingernails dug painfully into her flesh. “But I had to make an attempt at speaking to Julius, didn’t I? And did you see?” she added more hopefully. “He knew me for a moment. He said my name, and responded to my question.”

  “Yes, that’s wonderful,” Desdemona said drily, dragging Sarah in the direction of the carriage. “It will be a memory to cheer you when Serafina kills one or both of you as a measure of repayment. Come, Sarah. I’m taking you to your home, where you are to remain until Malachi returns. After that, you’re his problem. Poor man.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sarah thought that she’d never be able to sleep after such a distressing afternoon, but she barely managed to get to her room and sit upon her bed before an overpowering exhaustion overtook her. She got her shoes and spectacles off and lay down, telling herself that she would only rest for an hour. It was much later, when she heard her mother’s gentle voice, that Sarah came to her senses again, and then unwillingly.

  “Are you unwell, Sarah?” Lady Tamony asked, setting a cool hand on Sarah’s forehead. “You do feel rather warm. Perhaps you’re suffering from whatever ailed Julius yesterday.”

  “I’m fine,” Sarah murmured, and sleepily struggled to sit up. “Have I missed tea? Why is it so dark?”

  “Because it’s well past dinner, my love,” her mother said.

  “But surely not. I can’t have slept that long.”

  “But you did, dear. Come.” Lady Tamony gently tugged her upward. “Stand up a moment and Irene and I will get you ready for bed. I’ve brought you something to eat.”

  Sarah protested that she didn’t need to go to bed so early, that she was perfectly capable of attending the poetry recital that they had been promised for at Lady Russell’s.

  “We’ve decided against going out tonight,” Sarah’s mother informed her as she pulled a fresh nightgown out of a nearby drawer. “I sent Lady Russell our apologies. Julius came home far too late to make himself ready, and—”

  “Julius!” Sarah exclaimed, stepping out of her dress so that Irene could take it away. “He came home?”

  Her mother looked at her curiously. “Of course. Why shouldn’t he?”

  Sarah blinked at her. Weariness had clearly stolen away all her senses. “Yes,” she replied stupidly. “Yes, certainly. I was only concerned because he was so overtired yesterday. Is he well? Did he eat anything?”

  “He retired to his room shortly after coming home,” her mother said, her tone and expression slightly suspicious. “And begged leave to excuse himself from any further activities this evening, or from having dinner. I took him a tray before coming to you, but he assured me he wasn’t hungry.”

  “What was he doing?” Sarah asked, lowering her head so that the remainder of her undergarments could be removed.

  “Reading,” her mother replied, helping Sarah into the nightgown. “He still seems somewhat weary from whatever he suffered yesterday. He didn’t wish me to remain long.”

  “He’ll likely sleep soon,” Sarah murmured, standing still as her mother dealt with the gown’s tiny buttons.

  “Yes, I think that’s so,” Lady Tamony agreed. “Irene, you may go. I’ll help my daughter finish readying for bed.”

  The maid gathered up Sarah’s garments for pressing and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

  “Sit and eat, Sarah,” Lady Tamony said, indicating the writing desk where the tray was set. “I�
�ll brush your hair.”

  Sarah did as her mother bade, though she scarce tasted the food. Just as she took a bite of toast she felt the touch of her mother’s hands on her hair, gently pulling out the several pins.

  “What’s been going on these past several days, Sarah?” Lady Tamony asked. “It’s no use telling me there’s nothing, for I’m your mother as well as Julius’s. I know something very unusual has been taking place.”

  Sarah set the piece of toast aside. “You’re right, of course,” she said, glancing at her mother. “Something has been happening. Something that has to do with the supernatural.”

  “I suspected as much,” her mother said, releasing long ribbons of hair to fall loose about Sarah’s shoulders. “And Lord Graymar is involved as well, is he not? Eat, dear,” she added as Sarah looked at her again. “The soup has already cooled.”

  Sarah turned back to the tray and picked up her spoon. “How did you guess about Lord Graymar?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Lady Tamony replied, pulling a brush with care through Sarah’s unruly locks. “I know you wished to interview him for your book because of his family’s history. Lord Llew is one of them, too, isn’t he?”

  “Mama, I scarce know what to say. Lord Graymar said you might be one of those who are sympathetic to his kind, and I believe he must be right.”

  Lady Tamony chuckled. “I don’t know about being sympathetic. I would rather call it suspicious. But I quite approve of Lord Graymar, even if he does possess supernatural talents. He’s clearly set his heart upon you and—”

  “Mama! He hasn’t done any such thing. Good heavens.”

  Lady Tamony smiled serenely and began to portion Sarah’s hair into sections. “Your father and I have decided to consider him seriously if he makes you an offer. If you believe you would like being married to him, of course, although from what I’ve seen, when the two of you are together that’s a question already answered. Sit still, dear, or I’ll have to start all over again.” She braided Sarah’s hair with quick, deft movements.

  Sarah didn’t need a mirror to know how red her face was. She was trying to think of what to say when her mother went on.

  “I wish I could say the same for the Earl of Llew, but I cannot. There’s something in the man that I can’t quite trust. Unfortunately, Philistia’s fallen in love with him.”

  “Philistia!” Sarah repeated, shocked. “But she can’t have. She only just met the man yesterday. Surely that’s not long enough for any but the silliest girl to become infatuated.”

  “I confess the thought distresses me somewhat,” Lady Tamony said, reaching for a bit of ribbon that she’d set on the table and tying the end of Sarah’s thick braid. “But she came across him today while she was out, and Lord Llew gallantly offered to spend the remainder of the afternoon showing her some of London’s more popular attractions. He brought her home before tea and—well, what could I do when Philistia looked at me in such a pleading manner? I invited him to join us again.”

  “I knew she’d gone out with only a maid, but could scarce believe it,” Sarah said. “She’s always been far too shy to go anywhere without one of us along.”

  “Yes, she has. Which leaves us to conclude that she went out with the hope of meeting Lord Llew. I can only pray that he had nothing to do with the matter, and has only been playing the gentleman in his attentions to Philla. There.” She patted the braid with satisfaction. “Have you finished, darling? Wash your face and teeth and then you must get directly back into bed.”

  When Sarah had washed and slipped beneath the covers once more, her mother sat on the bed and gazed at her.

  “Now, Sarah. What’s going on? I know you don’t wish to tell me, but it would be better for me to know in case your father becomes suspicious.”

  Sarah could see the wisdom of that. Of the two, her mother was by far the more unflappable.

  “If I tell you, Mama, will you promise to trust me—and Lord Graymar—to make everything right? Will you give me your vow to not interfere or draw attention to His Lordship’s powers?”

  Lady Tamony reached out both hands to smooth them over the covers, tucking Sarah in more warmly.

  “Yes, dear. I give you both my promise and my vow.”

  “All right, then,” Sarah said, and began to tell her mother everything that had happened, starting with a confession about sneaking out of the inn near Glain Tarran so many weeks earlier.

  An hour passed before Sarah’s mother left the room, dousing the few candles and turning down the lamps. Sarah hadn’t thought she’d fall asleep again as quickly, but a full belly and a clear conscience drew her downward into slumber once more.

  She was wakened by the sound of a door opening.

  Her sleep-addled brain said it was merely one of the maids, come to put her clothes away or check the fire in the grate. But as she came more fully awake she realized that the hour was far too late for the servants to be up and about. Everyone in the house would be asleep. Pushing up to peer into the darkened room, she murmured, “Mama?”

  “It’s me, Sarah,” came Julius’s voice. “Go back to sleep.”

  A moment passed as surprise rolled over her, followed by a shocking sense of realization. He was in her closet.

  “Sweet merciful day.” She tossed the covers aside and hurried across the room. “Julius, stop.”

  He ignored her, even when she moved to stand behind him.

  “Where is it?” he asked, throwing aside the purse he’d been searching. “You always keep it here.”

  “My journal is hidden,” she said angrily. “You’ll never find it. Go back to bed.”

  He whirled about, his expression fixed. He was dressed in a shirt and trousers, as if he meant to go out.

  “Give me the journal,” he said, advancing upon her. “We must be quiet. I cannot wake the house.”

  “Oh, she thought of that, did she?” Sarah asked mockingly. “I’m glad to know Miss Daray didn’t want you to be caught stealing. That would have been difficult to explain away.”

  “Give me the journal,” he repeated.

  “No.” Sarah backed away. “Tell your mistress she can have it if she releases you. Now go away or I’ll scream for Papa.”

  “Give me the journal, Sarah, or I must force it from you.”

  He would do that, she knew. She’d seen earlier that he was willing to do what Serafina Daray had commanded.

  “I’ll make an exchange,” Sarah countered. Moving around him to the closet again, she searched for the reticule she’d had earlier in the day, squinting in the dim light to see its contents. At last she drew out the vial that Rhys had given her.

  She turned back to Julius. “I’ll give you the journal if you’ll drink some of this.” She held out the vial.

  He shook his head. “I cannot eat or drink anything save what my mistress gives me.”

  “But your mistress also commands that you bring her the journal,” Sarah countered. “This is the only way you’ll be able to have it, for I will not give it to you otherwise.”

  Julius advanced on her so quickly and unexpectedly that Sarah wasn’t able to move back. By the time she realized his intent, he had her about the neck.

  “We must be quiet, and so I cannot let you speak or scream. But you must give me the journal. Now.”

  Sarah shook her head and, dropping the vial, tried to pull his hands away.

  Julius released her as quickly as he’d set upon her, but Sarah’s relief was short-lived. Grasping her by the back of the neck, he pulled her close, then brought the flat of his other hand sharply across her face with punishing force. The sound of the slap resounded throughout the room, but Sarah’s following cry was stopped by that same hand closing over her mouth.

  Tears filled Sarah’s eyes, but Julius paid them no mind.

  “Will you give me the journal?” he murmured.

  She shook her head, clawing frantically to gain release. Julius was blind to her struggles. He lifted his hand and brou
ght it down again, slapping Sarah so hard that flashes of light filled her eyes. She drew in a gasping breath just before the hand covered her mouth, muffling her sobs.

  “Will you give me the journal, Sarah?”

  She couldn’t look into his beloved face, so void of emotion as it was. The world began to fade, along with her strength. Julius seemed to divine how near she was to fainting and lowered her to the floor.

  “Give me the journal and I’ll leave you in peace. I cannot go without it.”

  Streams of tears stung the sides of her face. Thoughts whirled through her mind—of Malachi, of how she could escape her brother’s superior strength, of how deeply distressed her family would be if they should ever discover what was taking place. If only she could get him to let her go for a few moments … just long enough to clear her head …

  “Sarah?” He gave her a shake. She marveled at how his voice remained so calm and controlled. Even his breathing was normal. “I’ll strike you again if I must.”

  She wasn’t going to be able to withstand many more blows, she knew. She had to find a way to escape him, no matter if it meant waking her family and exposing all of them to Julius’s condition. He raised his hand to strike her again and Sarah balled up a fist. It would be difficult, but she had every intention of breaking her handsome brother’s perfect nose.

  Before either of them could send their fists flying, a flash of light illuminated the room, accompanied by a furious, unearthly roar. Sarah was stunned and blinded, yet the only emotion she felt was intense relief.

  Julius was slower to react, stupefied as he was by the sudden appearance of such tremendous power. He tried to turn, but Lord Graymar moved far too quickly, grasping Julius by the front of his shirt and lifting him away from Sarah and into the air as if her brother weighed nothing. With a wrathful growl Lord Graymar shook his captive, only stopping for a brief moment when he heard shouts coming down the hallway. Turning his head toward the imminent arrival of the remaining Tamony clan and all their servants, Lord Graymar shouted, “Stop!” and they did. His Lordship went back to shaking Julius.