“There is a footman, hired by Mrs. Llewellyn only a month or so before Lady Montkeith’s arrival here,” Tromley began. “He is, as far as we can discover, gone from the house now and was not in attendance at dinner. He had claimed to have a task to attend to for you, my lord. But now it seems that was not the case at all.”
“What is his name?”
“It was Charles, my lord. He was a very handsome lad and, while I hesitate to say it, Mrs. Llewellyn seemed to favor him and requested his assistance above any of the other footmen.”
“Keep talking to the others, Tromley,” Adelaide said. “He might have given some indication, without meaning to, of where he would go. Where he was from, previous employers, or even friends and family… no lead is too small if it might help us discover if he was involved in this and, if so, was it at the behest of Frances.”
Tromley nodded and exited the room just as the doctor arrived. It was a brief examination where he pronounced that there was nothing to be done for Warren but to wait and see. In short, having fetched the man had been a waste of time.
After setting guards at the door and a maid inside to tend to him to during the night, Lord Mortimer, Madame Leola, Eldren and Adelaide herself left the chamber. “Let us return to the drawing room and ring for some brandy. It seems that we could all do with something a bit more bracing than sherry,” she suggested.
As they returned to the drawing room on the lower floor, it was Lord Mortimer who voiced the question. “Are we certain that your brother was attacked by a who and not a what? You said yourself in the letters we exchanged that it made an attempt on your life, Lady Montkeith, at a great distance from this house. Surely carrying out such a physical manifestation here, within its seat of power, would not be so difficult.”
“I cannot say,” Eldren replied. “And we cannot trust Frances to be forthcoming with the truth. At this point, our greatest hope is that when Warren awakens—if he awakens—that he will be able to tell us what happened.”
“Or if it was something more grounded in the here and now, the footman perhaps, that we will be able to track him down and glean from him why he did what he did and who it was that he did it for,” Adelaide finished. “Madame Leola, Frances asked you many questions earlier about whether or not you could identify the gender of her child. And you answered that you could. What if she feared you could identify more than that?”
“I’m not quite certain I understand, Lady Montkeith,” Madame Leola replied.
“Frances claims that the child was conceived in… violence,” Adelaide confessed haltingly. It was an ugly accusation and one she was hesitant to issue even against Frances. “But such behavior is entirely out of character for Warren. His guilt and his abject misery since the entire thing has come to light has been profound. And yet he has no memory of it, at all.”
“But Warren has large gaps in his memory frequently,” Eldren protested. There was no denying that the awful events Warren had disclosed to him had altered their relationship. Adelaide had grown increasingly concerned about the growing distance between the brothers.
Eldren continued as he moved toward the small tray Tromley had brought in and began pouring drinks for the lot of them, “From almost the outset of their marriage he has sought solace in drink. But Adelaide is correct in saying that it is out of character for him. In all of his life, I have never known Warren to inflict damage upon anyone but himself.”
Madame Leola accepted a glass of brandy from Eldren and sipped it thoughtfully. She did not gasp at the burn or cough and sputter. She was clearly accustomed to the headier spirit.
“I must confess that it is not a question that has ever come up for me. You see I do not read events, I read people. Even if or when your brother regains consciousness, my lord, if he truly does not know whether or not such a thing occurred, I cannot get that truth from him. And as I discussed with her ladyship earlier, Mrs. Llewellyn is an enigma. I have never encountered anyone so capable of concealing everything about herself. Looking inside her is like looking into an empty room, but one filled with long shadows and an impenetrable darkness. She is a wicked woman and a villain, I have no doubt. But the degree of her villainy remains to be seen.”
Lord Mortimer looked at her sharply. “I’ve never heard you describe a living person thusly.”
Madame Leola arched one eyebrow at him. “I have never encountered a living person who inspired such feelings. She is not to be trusted. Not at all. And whatever her goals or plans, this child factors into it in some way. I think she wants control of this house and whatever lurks within it, but there is no controlling power this dark and ancient. I fear she may be getting in over her head.”
Adelaide shuddered. Eldren reached for her, taking her hand and holding it tightly. It offered comfort and solace in the face of so much unknown. “What do we do now, Madame Leola?” She asked.
“We need to know more about our enemies, my lady, both living and dead. But I am FAR too tired tonight to be able to safely embark on this course. Tomorrow, assuming that Mr. Llewellyn’s condition is improved or at least unchanged, we will hold a seance and try to gather us much as we can about the threats we face,” the mystic replied.
“Very well,” Eldren said. “Then we should all seek our beds and rest as much as we can. I fear that tomorrow will be a very trying day.”
“Madame Leola, if something should occur during the night—,” Adelaide began.
The mystic smiled, but it was an expression steeped in mystery. “You needn’t worry, my lady. I have my own methods of protecting myself against the darkness. Have no fear.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Eldren entered their chamber and found Adelaide seated at her dressing table. Dyllis was fixing the mass of her dark hair into a thick braid. More often than not, he found her maid having been dismissed and Adelaide awaiting him. But of late, things had altered between them. The distance was marked and given the surreptitious glance from the maid, it had not gone unnoted by others.
“I looked in on Warren. He seems to be resting peacefully, but I’m not certain if that is a good sign or a bad one,” he admitted reluctantly.
“Thank you, Dyllis. You can go,” Adelaide said, her brows drawn in concern. Once the maid had gone, she turned to him and said, “I believe he will rally, Eldren. He’s young and despite his vices, in good health otherwise. I think the most important thing we can do, at this point, is insure that Frances does not have unfettered access to him. I hadn’t considered the implications of it until she made the statement at dinner tonight that her child will be your heir.”
“Assuming that child is actually Warren’s,” he replied.
Her eyes were wide, her gaze revealing the fears that had blossomed within her. “But what if Warren isn’t here to question it? What if we aren’t? What if all this is some elaborate scheme for her to be able to lay claim to Cysgod Lys and all of your holdings through the birth of a child who may or may not be of Llewellyn blood?”
Eldren settled himself on the edge of the bed and allowed the enormity of that to sink in. It was conjecture and something that they had no proof of, but it was not so very far fetched. He’d made it known to one and all that he’d never had any intent to marry and produce an heir. But when his situation changed, Frances had done everything possible to prevent the marriage. She and Warren had been wed for almost seven years and now, when there was a risk of her losing unfettered access to the house and the attached wealth, she had suddenly found herself with child.
It was a wonder with what she had put Adelaide through during her initial journey to Cysgod Lys that Adelaide had survived, much less consented to the marriage and remained as mistress of the estate. And the house, despite it’s eccentricities and the terror that it could induce, had never caused him physical harm, not until he’d married. Heaven knew that whatever was there had attempted time and again to frighten Adelaide away or even cause a more permanent form of absence.
“You may be right. Adelaide, F
rances may well be trying to kill him… and us.”
“With the help of the forces at work in this house,” she finished. “My question is how? Is Frances some sort of mystic herself? Or something worse?”
“A witch?” he asked. He felt ridiculous even uttering the word. “You think she might be dabbling in dark arts?”
“If she’s doing anything, it’s significantly more than dabbling. Frances is fully committed to her scheme, whatever it may be.”
Eldren sighed heavily. “We’ll need to find the truth, and whether I believe in Madame Leola’s abilities or not, I have to admit that her description of Frances was impossibly accurate. But I don’t want to talk about Francs, or Warren, or Madame Leola tonight.”
“What do you want to discuss?” she asked.
“I want to revisit a conversation we had on the beach earlier in the week… About making love to you and making you my wife in every way.”
She cocked her head to one side. “Tonight? After all that’s occurred, that is what you want to discuss?”
“I can’t think of a better time,” he said and reached for her hand. He tugged her close until she was standing between his knees. He could smell the soft, light scent of her perfume and see the satiny texture of her skin. Had he ever desired a woman more in his life? No. He hadn’t. And weeks of touching her, of listening to the soft cries of her passion and feeling the shuddering release as she succumbed to pleasure, his desire for her had only intensified. It wasn’t as if their encounters had been one sided. She had learned how to bring him pleasure, as well, and had done so time and again. But it wasn’t the same. The idea of feeling her heated flesh closing around him, of sharing that moment of completion in the most intimate way possible, that was what he longed for and it was what she had wanted as well. He would finally be able to give her that. The small package had been delivered that morning but with all that had occurred he had not had the chance to tell her.
“I know you want a child,” he said. “And if we can see our way through this, I will do all in my power to give you the family you long for. But until then—.”
“You’re right. Eldren, you are right. We cannot bring a child into this home until we know it would be safe to do so and until we know to what lengths Frances will go, it’s too much to risk,” she offered in agreement. “Right now, this time is for us. One day, when we have eliminated these threats, then we can revisit the idea of a family.”
Eldren reached for the ties of her dressing gown, watching the heavy velvet part to reveal the simple chemise she wore beneath it. The white lawn was so fine it was all but sheer, revealing the hollows and peaks of her form beneath. His hands slipped inside the parted robe to rest on the flare of her hips as he tugged her closer still. Angling his head slightly, he pressed his mouth to the underside of her breast, savoring the suppleness of her flesh beneath his lips.
It was only moments before gentle seduction gave way to raging need. He lifted her onto the bed, coming down on top of her. Clothing shifted and moved, only to be discarded onto the floor beyond.
In many ways, it was better. She knew what to expect. It was all anticipation and eagerness without the nerves and fear. He knew how and where to touch her to incite her passions, and in turn, she knew precisely where and how to touch him. They drove one another mad with it—until they were gaping and shuddering with desire, until their bodies strained together.
Eldren eased himself from her long enough to retrieve the small tin. Her gaze never left him as he donned the sheath. Under her gaze, his flesh hardened further, his desire increasing as she parted her lips and the tip of her pink tongue touched her lips. She was unconsciously seductive, her reactions open, honest, untutored and captivating. Returning to the bed, Eldren pressed her back against the mattress and parted her thighs.
She arched against him, shifting her knees upward until she could lock her ankles behind his hips. Sinking into the warmth and heat of her, even with the thin barrier that still existed between them, it was the most exquisite sensation of his life. Easing his way slowly, he paused when he felt the small bit of resistance. With more patience than he’d believed possible, he paused there, circling his hips against hers, allowing her to grow accustomed to the sensation.
“More,” she urged. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”
Unable to resist that sweet plea, he surged forward entering her fully and feeling the hot clutch of her flesh about him. He shuddered and groaned, struggling for control. She clung to him, her nails scoring his back.
“Adelaide,” he whispered, the sound broken and gruff.
She shifted beneath him, her hips moving against his with an eagerness that belied her inexperience. Placing one hand on her hips, he guided her, setting a rhythm that would hopefully make the moment last long enough for them both to find their pleasure.
Every cry, every groan, every shattered moan spurred him on. The sounds of their passion filled the room. Sweat slicked their skin as they strained against one another. When he felt the tell-tale tremors in Adelaide’s thighs, the slight quivering of her belly that signaled her impending release, he began to move faster, pressing deeper and harder until she let out a broken cry. Her body went taut beneath him, hips arched and back bowed as she crested.
It was only seconds later that his own release took him, and he pumped his hips harder against her until his entire body trembled with the power and intensity of it.
When he could move, he withdrew from her long enough to remove the sheath. Immediately he went back to the bed and took her in his arms.
“I had no idea,” she said. “I thought I knew what pleasure was but, Eldren, this was so much more.”
It was. And if he’d had any doubts, that evening had eliminated them. Adelaide was all he wanted. All he’d ever want. “If you give me a moment or two to recover, I’ll show you more.”
“There’s more?”
He smiled. “There is so much more. And I mean to show you all of it that I can.”
CHAPTER SIX
Warren remained unconscious though he had stirred some that evening and muttered a few words that were indecipherable. Frances fumed and threw tantrums and Eldren had ignored her entirely. Out of self preservation, Adelaide had remained closeted in the morning room with Madame Leola for most of the day. The woman had taught her about meditation, about visualizing white light around her to protect herself. It was all so new to her, so strange. And yet it felt strangely right and offered her some sense of security as they went in to meet Eldren and Lord Mortimer.
They had elected to use the breakfast room for the ritual. Seance. In truth, Adelaide was uncertain what to call it. She’d never engaged in such a thing in her life, but there were many firsts for her since arriving at Cysgod Lys—some significantly more pleasant than others.
Leaves had been removed from the table to make it smaller and more intimate. Only four chairs flanked it. Both Eldren and Madame Leola had been adamant that Frances could not know what they were about. Given their suspicions of Frances and what she may have done to her husband, it was the wisest course of action. To that end, not even the servants had been apprised of what they planned to do. Lord Mortimer had seen to the preparations of the room.
The table had been draped with black velvet, and a single candelabra sat in the center of it, the flames dancing and casting long shadows over the darkly paneled walls. Watching those shapes shimmer and fade, only to reemerge darker and more menacing than before, made her shiver.
“Everyone take your seats,” Lord Mortimer said. “I realize that I may be out of bounds, but I’ve attended these rituals and have watched Madame Leola work many times. I think it best, Montkeith, if I take the lead.”
Eldren shrugged before replying in a tone that clearly demonstrated his disinterest and disdain for their planned event, “I don’t even know what I’m doing here, so please, lead on.”
Lord Mortimer walked around the room, extinguishing all light save for that on the tabl
e. When he had completed that task, he opened the small wooden box that he’d carried in with him. It was filled with large salt crystals. Taking them one at a time, he formed a circle on the floor around the table and then poured more salt to connect them in a ring.
At Eldren’s huffed out breath, Madame Leola smiled. “You think it nonsense, Lord Montkeith. But this salt is to protect all of us. It provides a barrier between us and the dark forces at work in this house. Do not mock what you do not understand, if you please.”
“I meant no disrespect, Madame Leola, but you must understand how strange all of this seems to me,” he insisted.
The mystic smiled, her full lips tilting up at the corners in an expression of knowing. “My dear man, it will get much stranger before the night is done.”
Lord Mortimer returned to the table then and seated himself so that he held Madame Leola’s right hand and Adelaide’s left. Eldren was to her right, facing the older gentleman. “We are ready to begin.” The four of them together formed a circle, like points on a compass.
Adelaide was silent, her eyes glued to the mystic as Madame Leola began to hum, a low strange sound. She rolled her neck side to side and back to front. Recalling their conversation from earlier, about what it meant to be a catalyst for all things mystical, Adelaide felt a frisson of fear. What if her presence was too much?
“I call upon the spirit who accompanied me here… I call upon Ulmer,” Madame Leola intoned, her voice rich and theatrical. But there was power in it, power that everyone could feel.
“Ulmer, tell me what inhabits this house,” she demanded in that strange and terrifying manner.
Suddenly and without warning, Madame Leola’s head dropped back and a wail escaped her unlike anything that Adelaide had ever heard. It raised goosebumps all over her. From the corner of her eye, and just beyond the circle of salt, she saw the shadows move. They danced and swayed, shifting in a way that could only be described as unnatural. Or supernatural. Even as the light flared, the flames growing higher, the shadows drew nearer, they became thicker and heavier, falling one atop the other like a writhing mass.
The Victorian Gothic Collection: Volumes 1-3 Page 20
