Midnight Secrets

by Jennifer St Giles

  To see his face, I had to tilt my head and retreat a step, which brought my back against the bookcase. Leaning toward me, he planted his hands on the shelf behind me, trapping me between his arms, blocking my escape. An escape I am sure I would have made, had my mind been capable of thought.

  It wasn’t, just at present.

  The dampness of his hair and the smooth line of his jaw, combined with the fresh scent of soap and spice, told me he’d just come from his bath. We stood so close I could count the flecks of green and gold in the irises of his eyes. Having all of his dangerous male appeal so unexpectedly close disconcerted me to the point that all I did was stare at him. The only thing keeping his body from pressing into mine as it had during his kiss was the flickering candle in my unsteady hand.

  He blew the candle out.

  “Oh!” I stood in the dark, desperate for my eyes to adjust to the moonlight.

  “Can’t have us catching on fire, can we?” He must have been able to see in the dark because he took the candle from my tingling fingers.

  “No, fire is good,” I gasped, already burning. For a moment I stood there, waiting helplessly for him to kiss me, until I realized what I was doing. Good Lord, had I lost all sense of myself? “Cassiopeia’s Corner” would have advised any woman finding herself in such circumstances to take drastic measures and gain a proper footing. Only, I didn’t want to stamp on his foot and flee, but I did want to learn more about him, and I would have to compromise my notions of propriety to do so. I planted my palm in the center of his too tempting chest and pushed. He only took one step back, which gave me some breathing room, but not much.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing here?” I demanded.

  “Since it is my library, I think I’ll ask you that question.”

  “Oh.” I winced. “Forgive me, I forgot myself.”

  He studied my face a moment. “You’re forgiven, but first satisfy my curiosity,” he said. “What is a pretty maid such as yourself looking for in books about Druid magic and powers?”

  I arched a brow. “Perhaps I’m looking for spells to make odious men keep a respectable distance. You took enough liberties with my person earlier today, sir.”

  He laughed, making me feel like a mouse cornered by a hungry cat. “I recall a mutual liberty taking, lass. But considering you were trespassing into my private quarters, I had the right to not only know why you were there, but also could have viewed your intrusion as an invitation to take more from you than the kiss I did. In fact, as much as I’ve tried to fight my attraction, I regret not doing so.” His gaze dropped, seemingly studying my mouth, then moved lower.

  My breasts tingled.

  “I suggest you answer my question, Cassie. Or I might be moved to coerce the answer from you.” His gaze slid over me. “In a mutual way, of course.”

  Deep inside me, I knew I shouldn’t find his threat exciting. I shouldn’t wonder what a mutual coercing entailed, but the notion intrigued me in an utterly improper way, that I blurted out the truth before I could entice him into a coercive action. “I wanted to research the Circle of the Stone Virgins that I saw today. Mr. Frye mentioned they might have a Druid origin.”

  After studying me a moment, despite the darkness, he pushed back from the bookcase, freeing me. I didn’t run or move, but waited to see what he would do. He lit the candle, flooding a dim light about us. Surely my sigh was one of relief and not disappointment. Using his cane for balance, he nimbly picked up the books I’d dropped.

  “Do you and Stuart spend a lot of time together? I saw you walking toward the village this afternoon as well.” He spoke casually, yet I sensed an underlying tension.

  He didn’t glance my way. After setting all but one of the books on a table, he tucked his cane under his arm, then opened the book and thumbed through the chapters.

  “I barely know the man.” Did he think my association with the groomsman inappropriate? Then I remembered I was but a downstairs maid. My insolence to him, even though provoked, was shameful. “Today, we met by…accident at the stone circle.” I didn’t have an explanation for keeping silent about Jamie’s attack, other than to keep my own council until I determined friend from foe. “And when Bridget was late returning from the village, he escorted me to find her.”

  He glanced up from the book, his eyes narrowed. “You sound as if you had reason for worry. Why?”

  I shrugged, unwilling to divulge my concerns about Mary’s death yet, because anything I could have said would have made him even more suspicious of me. “Bridget was…uh, upset. Her mother is ill. The consumption. Bridget is at a loss of how to care for her and her young brother.”

  He handed me the book, The Sacred and Profane Rites and Rituals of the Druids and Their Children opened to a chapter with an alarming title. “The Seduction of the Innocent.” I nearly dropped the book.

  “From what I’ve been able to piece together, the Stone Virgins have their roots in a local legend about Daghdha. Are you familiar with him?”

  “He was an imaginary king of the fairies, was he not?”

  “Imaginary?” he asked, quirking his brow.

  “Surely you don’t believe in such musings as dancing fairies and vam—er, leprechauns?” I asked, heat flaming my cheeks.

  Turning from me before I could read his expression to know if he’d heard my slip, he walked across the room and lit the fire. There was a part of me that winced to see so magnificent a man hindered by the need of a cane, even though he used it so gracefully. I wanted to ask how he he’d been injured, but couldn’t. Not yet. Flames licked their way over the kindling, enticing me closer to him and the fire. Though summer, the late night dampness of the castle-like manor called for the extra warmth, as if every degree of heat was necessary to fight lurking chills, and perhaps to chase the shadows from the owner himself. In the dark of the night he appeared as mysterious as his portrait looming on the wall behind him.

  I watched as he placed a log on the fire then settled into a leather- and brass-winged chair, motioning me to the matching, opposite seat. “If you’re asking if I believe in miniature winged creatures flitting about, then the answer is no. If you’re asking if I believe in nonmortals, then the answer is yes.”

  He spoke with such assuredness that a lump of questions settled into the pit of my stomach. Did he speak of spirits or something more sinister? Weren’t vampires considered to be nonmortals?

  Like Pandora, I was urged forward by curiosity until I found myself perching on the edge of the chair with the Druid book clutched to my breasts. Though unwise, I wanted to open this forbidden box of knowledge more than I wanted to be safe. Or was it the man himself drawing me to the forbidden? No proper woman would pursue such subjects, nor would she remain alone in a room with a man in the middle of the night, but then, nothing I had done since coming to Killdaren Castle had been proper. I tried to tell myself that any information I could glean would aid my investigation of Mary’s death. Inside, however, I knew the truth. I wanted to know more about Sean, who he was, and what he thought almost as much as I wanted to know the truth about Mary.

  “Nonmortals?” I asked tentatively, afraid to know what he meant.

  “I hear the scandalous imaginings of all things dammed in your voice.” He laughed, the rich sound as warm and beckoning as the fire. And probably just as devouring, I reminded myself. “Human nature is an odd thing, is it not?” he asked softly. “Always tempting man to his demise. Though I’d love to oblige your fancies, I fear my answer is more mundane. Let me ask you a question first. Do you believe in God?”

  “Of course.”

  “Is God mortal, then?”

  “No.” I bit my lip in chagrin.

  “So there is a spirit world, where things exist that man cannot explain, correct?”

  I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. I knew all too well about the unexplainable. In my mind, my dreams of death were forewarnings from the spirit realm, but something never spoken of beyond the circle of my fami
ly, for fear of condemnation from those who did not understand.

  “Then imagine with me a moment that God is not alone. It is possible that He presides over more than just man? There are a number of archeological wonders about the world leading one to believe that more than just mortal man and beast have walked this earth. Where the notion came from that the Tuatha de Danaan, the fairy folk, are diminutive creatures, I don’t know, but from all reports, they are giants capable of magic for good or for ill.”

  “You say ‘are’ rather than ‘were’. Why?”

  “You listen well. Are you sure you want to hear about the Stone Virgins, lass? For they didn’t die virgins,” he said softly, his tone deep and luring.

  I shivered. Pleasurably. We’d already obliterated any lines of propriety. “Yes,” I said, slightly breathless. “You can’t leave the story there.”

  He smiled, slowly, making me feel like a morsel about to be eaten. “The legend centers around Daghdha’s insatiable appetite for women and his jealous wife, the queen of the fairies. Being the god of fertility, his powers and actions were generally believed to be good, and the harp he played, magical, capable of controlling the minds of mortals. He commanded the seasons and the emotions of man with his music, a note for sorrow, a note for joy, and a note for dreams. And whenever the opportunity arose, Daghdha didn’t deny himself sport with mortal women.” He paused, sliding his gaze over me, making me flush.

  “And?” I prompted, wanting to escape the fire he licked over me.

  “Well, given Daghdha’s odious description of a huge-bellied giant, naked below the waist, and our local legend of the Stone Virgins, I’m of the opinion he could also seduce with the Uaithne, his harp made of living oak. He could play one note and any woman would come to him, willing to give herself to him.”

  “He sounds like an unconscionable, uncouth beast.”

  Sean smiled. “Perhaps. Here in Dartmoor’s Forest, on the eve of Beltane, away from the eagle eye of his queen at Tara, Daghdha lured seven of the most beautiful mortal virgins into the forest with his harp and seduced them with his prowess, showing them each the high pleasure of immortal relations. Then he turned their earthly bodies to stone before they could tell anyone of his deed or before his queen learned of his indulgence.”

  “That’s horrible,” I cried.

  He laughed. “Well, it is rumored that he only put stone figures here to keep his queen from looking no further should she ever learn of his exploit. What really happened is that he fell in love with the women and chose them for his own. He gave them the knowledge of the gods and the gift of immortality, and took them to a secret lair to spend eternity pleasuring them.”

  “That’s not any better.”

  “Isn’t it, lass? The knowledge of the gods and an eternity of pleasure, never to know pain again?”

  Snapping the Druid book shut, I stood and marched across the room, agitation stealing over me. “It doesn’t matter what he gave them. It was criminal of him. He used magic to seduce them then took their lives from them. He gave them no choice.”

  He laughed again, seemingly enjoying my irritation. “Perhaps. It could be that they wouldn’t have chosen differently had they been given a choice. There are those who would pay any price for knowledge and eternal pleasure.”

  “You’re missing the point. Those who would pay any price, though foolish, at least were able to choose. I cannot believe that you’d rationalize and condone what he did by saying they might not have chosen differently.”

  He rose and slowly walked toward me. I deliberately kept my gaze directed at his face and not on his infirmity. I almost had the feeling that his gaze was measuring my reaction to his use of the cane.

  “What would you do?” he asked softly, “Given the offer of knowing the unknown of the universe, and great pleasure always, would you choose to leave this mortal life?”

  I opened my mouth to assure him that I would never willingly forsake all that I held dear, but he pressed his finger to my lips, shocking me silent.

  “Think on it a bit. Don’t speak rashly, and make very sure that it isn’t ignorance of what that knowledge and pleasure might be before you answer.”

  I nodded and he lowered his finger, letting it brush softly against my chin and neck as he stepped away. Before he could turn, I touched his arm. For a moment I’d seen pain in his eyes and I suddenly had to know. “Would you? Would you give up your life for that?”

  “In a heartbeat, lass,” he said.

  I released his arm as if burned, but I needed to know more. “Why?”

  His laugh was harsh. “I don’t think you really would like hearing the answer to that question, for there are a number of reasons why I’d leave this godforsaken life. Take the Druid book and go back to your room and let fairytale dreams ease your sleep.”

  I watched as he poured a glass of amber liquid from a decanter on a side table, filling the room with a hint of scotch, similar in aroma to what my father drank on occasion. Then he moved slowly to the chair, stretching his legs before the fire.

  “Is your injury one of the reasons you’d leave this life? Do you have a lot of pain?”

  “You’re not much different than me, Cassie. The wanting to know all, no matter the cost. Only you’ve not the courage to admit it. You’ll let curiosity lead you a step at a time to your demise rather than just leap.”

  I sighed, exasperated. I had the feeling that he was deliberately trying to chase me away again, as he had in all of our other encounters, and I wasn’t going to go running this time. “How were you hurt?”

  Staring into the fire, he took another sip and my exasperation grew.

  “What if it isn’t me who would be choosing to leave this life out of ignorance, but you?” I suggested, challenging him.

  “What?” His gaze snapped back to me and I nearly smiled at the shocked look on his face. I daresay few had ever accused him of being ignorant.

  “As far as I can tell you’ve cut yourself off from everything worthwhile in life.”

  “Such as?”

  Having come this far, I saw no reason not to blurt out the truth. “People. You wouldn’t even listen to a message from your brother. You sleep all day, totally uninvolved with everyone, and then do God knows what at night alone in your round room. No wonder you have no affinity for this life. This house has people, but it has no life, no family, no love.”

  He laughed, but no real amusement filled the bitter sound. “I have my reasons for living the way I do. Besides, I know you’ve heard the rumors. Very few people would care to associate themselves with a cursed murderer.”

  I gasped, backing up a step, feeling the blood drain from my face. “Was that a confession?”

  “It doesn’t matter. If I told you I didn’t murder Helen, you wouldn’t know if I were lying or not, so anything I said would only ease your conscience at this point, not mine. Everything that happened was meant to happen and nothing could have stopped it.” His harsh tone cut like jagged glass. It was full of pain and anger, and I wanted to reach out to him, to do something to ease the hurt I felt pouring out of him. But it was the hopelessness of his words that nearly undid me. “When it comes to destiny, nothing matters, not even truth.”

  “How can it not?” I asked. “As God lives, how can it not matter?”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “Why?” I stood for a long time, waiting for him to answer, but he didn’t, giving me no choice but to leave. “As long as you believe that the truth doesn’t matter, then nothing will ever be worthwhile,” I said quietly, before I went.

  Upon reaching my room, I dressed for bed and slid beneath the blanket, my mind too full of Sean to read anything more about the Stone Virgins.

  Chapter Ten

  On Sunday morning, Bridget and I went to the village, she to see her family, and I to see my sisters and aunt, and as luck would have it, we weren’t among the servants to have a full Sunday off this week. Our turn would come next week. The moment I slipped into th
e apartment, I knew something wasn’t exactly right. It was all too early for Andromeda, and even more amazingly, Gemini, to be awake and outfitted in their best dresses.

  “Did you learn anything new about Mary this week?” Andromeda asked before I could say a word.

  Though I’d learned a number of things, from Sean’s kiss to the Stone Virgins, none of it was fit for my sisters to know. I could readily see Andromeda leading an impromptu archeological expedition to The Stone Virgins. “No. It has been a very frustrating week.” I spoke hesitantly, deciding that I hadn’t really lied. “Are you going somewhere?”

  “No. Not that we know,” Andromeda said. “Just decided it would be proper to look our best on the Lord’s Day.”

  Gemini giggled, almost guiltily.

  I narrowed my gaze at her. “Is there something you need to tell me, Gemmi?”

  She shook her head. “Not that I know of. Yet.”

  Andromeda jumped up from her decorous position. “We have a bath ready for you.” She motioned me to a room.

  “Yes, and I’ll order tea to be sent up,” Gemini said. “And I’ll gather you a fresh packet of undergarments and things to take with you.”

  Though I didn’t need a bath, I wasn’t one to ever turn down a hot one. But the more I lay in the steamy water, the greater the sense that something was amiss with my sisters grew. Where was their usual chaotic chatter, their drama? I joined them and my aunt for tea, thinking that whole household seemed unusually organized this morning, as if they didn’t need me to keep order as before. Was the difference and distance I felt between me and them because of the secrets I harbored? Or was it because my thoughts drifted to those at Killdaren Castle, who were growing in their importance to me? Bridget and her sick mother, her young brother and her absent sister. Little Rebecca with only her rag doll and nurse for company, rather than a life full of friends and affection. And mostly to Sean, a man who seemed to have no one and nothing but darkness and hopelessness. Ever since last night, his harshly rasped it doesn’t matter kept echoing in my heart. How could he believe that?