by Adele Clee
The marquess smiled. “You must call me Leo. When people are connected as we are, there’s no need for formalities.” The gentleman’s wary gaze travelled over her. “I assume your daughter has no objection to us entering your home.”
“Ah, Isla’s nae my daughter. But her father was like a brother to me and so that makes us kin.”
The gentleman nodded. “I understand completely.”
“I … I have no objection.” Isla’s thoughts were so chaotic, in such a state of disarray, that she doubted she’d be able to object to anything. Besides, she needed to hear all the gory details of Nikolai’s demise if she were ever to believe it was true.
Not being a man to bow to anyone, Douglas gave a curt nod. “The name’s Douglas, and this is Lachlan.”
Lachlan merely raised his chin in acknowledgement. Since witnessing her deformed features, he had struggled to look her in the eye. The invisible barrier that now stood between them felt as solid as a wall of stone, one she might never have the strength to climb. She didn’t blame him. No one wanted to see a person they were once going to marry stripped of their humanity. No one wanted to believe that the nightmares they had heard as a child were real.
The lady took her husband’s arm and turned to face her. “We have much to discuss. There are many things to tell you, many questions we have of our own.”
Isla forced a smile although guilt flared for the appalling way she had behaved. “It has been a traumatic night. I was not of sound mind when I attacked you, and so I ask for your forgiveness.”
“We are all guilty of acting in a way we later come to regret.” Ivana hugged her husband's arm, a small inconspicuous gesture yet it suggested the couple had not always been as enamoured with each other as they now appeared. “I am the last person to judge. I am the last person to condemn anyone for using violence as a way of coping with fear.”
Isla curtsied, suddenly recalling that this considerate woman, whom she would have sunk her fangs into, was a marchioness. “Thank you, my lady, for your kindness and compassion.”
“You must call me Ivana. As Leo said, we are not ones for formality. And I am certain when we leave here we shall do so as friends.”
“Can we nae continue with the pleasantries inside?” Douglas visibly shivered. “With my poor circulation, I’m sure to lose a few toes if I hover about here much longer.”
Even in her subdued mood, Isla could not help but chuckle inwardly at her old friend’s blunt manner. “Come, Douglas, we’d not want to see you spend the rest of your days hobbling about with a stick. I’ll speak to Malmuirie. She can heat some of her mint and rosemary balm and give them a thorough rub.”
“She’s nae using her potions on me.” Douglas snorted. “I’d nae let that woman near my dog let alone my feet.”
“A dram of whisky will soon get the blood flowing.” Lachlan patted Douglas on the back, his suggestion bringing a grin to both of their faces. When Lachlan’s gaze caught hers, the smile touching his lips faded.
Like the turbulent motion of the sea on a stormy night, her stomach roiled.
Being alone together in the forest, the intimate way he had taken care of her, had gone some way to healing the pain of her past transgressions. Whether they chose to ignore the fact or not, they were connected on a soul-deep level. Just when she hoped they could salvage something from the wreckage of their once blossoming relationship, he’d discovered her shameful secret. Now he did not look at her in the same warm, reassuring way. Now he was distant, aloof.
“Take our guests inside, Douglas, and show their coachman into the kitchen where Malmuirie will provide food and refreshment.” She tried to sound confident though her throat was tight from the need to repress all the things she longed to say. “I wish to speak to Lachlan.”
She feared Lachlan would decline her request. Why would he want to be left alone with a monster? But offering a curt nod, he stood silently and waited while Douglas ushered the guests inside.
“You … you do not have to stay here, Lachlan.” Relieving him of any burden was the most prominent thought to enter her mind. “You should go home. You should go to Edinburgh and forget everything you have seen and heard this evening.”
Leave here and forget you ever met me.
“You want me to pretend none of this has happened?” He stepped closer, moved as though he intended to rub her upper arms but his hands flopped awkwardly back to his side. “I’ll stay to hear confirmation that the bastard is dead. I’ll stay until I see you smile again, until the cure has rid you of these devilish aliments. Though I cannot even begin to comprehend what I have witnessed tonight. I’ll stay until the villagers no longer have a desire to drive you from your home.”
He would do what he felt was his duty. Then he would leave her.
“You do not owe me anything.” She wanted to put a hand on his cheek, to feel the tiny bristles brush against her palm. “If what these people say is true, my nightmare is finally over.”
He frowned as he stared at her mouth. “In the forest tonight, you could have told me about your illness. You told Douglas you could trust me. You listened to me mock the villagers for believing you had the ability to drain a man’s blood. You could have confided in me. Why didn’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter now.” She gave a sorrowful sigh. To reveal her true feelings would inevitably cause them both pain. “You did not come home to hear about my woes.”
“It matters to me.” His tone held a mild hint of reproof. “There was a time when we could tell each other everything, a time when we could be ourselves without fear of censure.”
“That time has long passed.”
“If I ever meant anything to you, then let me hear the truth fall from your lips now.”
If he ever meant anything to her? Although battered and bruised, her heart would always belong to him.
“Was it shame?” he asked prompting her to answer. “Were you too ashamed to tell me?”
“In a way.” After her shocking betrayal, he deserved to hear a few honest words. “The truth is I … I could not bear to see pity or disgust in your eyes. I want to remember the way you used to look at me. When our future together appeared bright and full of endless possibilities.”
Puffing his cheeks, he expelled a loud gush of air. There was a prolonged moment of silence as his penetrative gaze bore deep into her soul. “I cannot help but feel guilty for staying in Edinburgh when you were here suffering alone.”
“It was my fault you went away.” Isla forced a weak smile. “You mustn’t give it another thought. I’ve had Douglas and Malmuirie to keep me company. Even though she is often dramatic, she has been a great support to me since my father died.”
“Your father was a good, honest man. I do not blame him for breaking his oath, for falling under your husband’s spell.”
It had all seemed so simple at the time. It felt right to marry Nikolai. Her father thought so, too, and had been just as eager for the match. Any feelings for Lachlan had faded from both of their minds.
“Apparently, he is not my husband anymore.” She could not help but smile at the thought of being free.
Lachlan nodded towards the open door. “Then perhaps we should go inside and hear how he met his demise.” He raised a quizzical brow. “That is if you want me to stay.”
She did not have the courage to say that she wanted him to stay with her forever. He belonged with her; he always had. Nikolai’s death brought with it a glimmer of hope for her future. “You know you are always welcome here. I would not turn away a friend. But equally, I would not want you to stay out of a sense of obligation.”
“I once took your hand in mine and swore that I would always protect you.” His voice sounded an octave higher, perhaps a little croaky. “Let me be the friend I once was and I’ll not fail you again.”
He had also promised to love her, though he chose not to remind her of what she had lost. Forcing back the tears, she smiled. To embrace him would be a mistake. And so s
he tapped him playfully on the arm. “Come then, let us go inside and celebrate the fact I’m a widow.”
They joined the others in the Great Hall. Douglas was busy attending to the fire while the marquess rearranged the chairs to accommodate their number. Whilst she felt the lady’s penetrating stare, saw her husband glance curiously at Lachlan, no one saw fit to pry.
Douglas chose the seat closest to the fire. Lachlan sat at her side, opposite their guests. A charged silence pervaded the room: a hushed sense of excitement and anticipation. As with any complicated story, any life-changing revelation, an eagerness to rush to the denouement would undoubtedly leave many unanswered questions. Isla clasped her hands together in her lap; she would need to be patient as she listened to the tale unfold.
Perhaps reading her thoughts, the lady spoke first. “I’m not sure where to begin.” Ivana glanced at her husband as though seeking permission to continue. Whatever silent message passed between them, he understood it perfectly.
The marquess cleared his throat. “Some of what we might say will shock you. But you must trust we speak the truth. Perhaps we should start by telling you that, despite what you have been led to believe, you were not married to Nikolai.”
Douglas thrust himself forward in the chair and punched the air. “Did I nae say there was something amiss?”
Isla felt the words like a sharp slap to the cheek. She blinked, shook her head. She had stood in the chapel, astounded that anyone would agree to marry them in the dead of night. The scripted vows had fallen mechanically from her lips. “How do you know this? How can you make such a judgement when you were not here?” Her gaze shot to Lachlan as he pushed his hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck.
Ivana shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. “Because I was also married to him, or so I thought, but it proved to be just another one of his deceitful tales.” She sighed. “I married him twelve years ago. A few days after our wedding, he left me. I saw him less than a handful of times over the years.”
“That’s what the beggar did to Isla.” Douglas unleashed a torrent of incoherent Gaelic curses. “The sleeky toad. Thrust a dirk in my hand and I’d sever his baws from—” Catching her cautionary glare, Douglas stopped abruptly. He inclined his head by way of an apology for his enthusiastic manner.
Isla was still a little confused. “But what makes you think you were not married to him either.”
“Two years ago Nikolai returned to Bavaria.” There was a slight tremor in Ivana’s voice. Isla instantly recognised it as fear. “Leo had come to visit. The reason why he happened to be there is too complicated to explain. Suffice to say Nikolai intended to kill us. He told me then that he had married many women, in many countries. Money being the motivating factor.”
“Money is the cause of most evil deeds.” Lachlan straightened. “So you’re saying Isla could not be legally married to Nikolai because he had been married before.”
Ivana nodded. “Many times, by his own admission.”
“It will be difficult to prove,” Leo said, “as we have no notion how many wives he had or where in the world they are. But we can both verify we witnessed his death. We can call other witnesses if necessary.”
Nikolai was dead.
She could not help but repeat the words over and over in her mind. It was a blessing. It was what she had hoped for whenever her thoughts drifted to the night he had left her alone in the mine. To suddenly wake from an induced sleep only to find she had an urgent craving for blood was possibly the most horrendous thing she had ever experienced. During the first year of his absence, Nikolai’s arrogant voice often invaded her thoughts. The evil whispers were like spindly vines creeping into her mind to strangle all hope.
Lachlan’s voice disturbed her musings. “You saw him draw his last breath?”
The marquess nodded. “An iron spear pierced his heart. A steel sword separated his head from his shoulders. The sun reduced all evidence to a pile of ash. The man is no more. Of that I am certain.”
There was a moment of stunned silence. Isla imagined they were all picturing the macabre scene. Various questions filled her head. Had the marquess killed Nikolai to save the woman he clearly loved? Would Lachlan have done the same for her if she had not convinced him of her desire to marry a scoundrel?
“I know it sounds rather cruel and ungodly, but I am not sorry he is dead.” A peaceful wave rippled through her body. “I feel a modicum of pleasure knowing he suffered, just as he has made me suffer these last few years.”
“We have all been affected in some way.” Lachlan’s tone was sombre. Did he speak of their dashed hopes and dreams? “But I do have a question to ask you if I may.”
“You may ask us anything you wish, and we will answer as honestly as we can.” With a wave of his hand, Leo gestured for Lachlan to continue.
“Something bothers me about the whole situation.” Lachlan cast her a sidelong glance before continuing. “Isla married a man she did not love. He had nothing to recommend him, no obvious fortune or elevated status, yet everyone who met him pandered to his desires and pathetic whims. Indeed, I too complied with his wishes, behaved in a way I deeply regret.”
Ivana gave a smile of recognition. “I think I can provide the answer you seek. Whilst the blood affliction causes many debilitating conditions, it also gives the infected person certain powers most people crave. Namely, Isla now has the ability to compel us all to do her bidding, and we will have no choice but to obey.”
Isla sat forward. “I can persuade people to do whatever I say?” There had been a few times over the years where she had lost her temper with Malmuirie and in a bout of frustration had told her to leave her be, told her not to speak about certain things. Her maid always obliged without question. Of course, that was what servants were supposed to do. But anyone who knew Malmuirie knew the woman struggled to hold her tongue.
“Are you saying Nikolai compelled Isla to marry him?” Lachlan asked.
“Yes.” Ivana nodded. “It was how he controlled events to suit his purpose.”
Isla suppressed a gasp. Nikolai had used some sort of mind manipulation to force her to marry him. It all made much more sense to her now. “I have been able to hear fragments of people’s thoughts, get a sense of what they are feeling.” Isla tilted her head to the side and shrugged. “Well, I can when I am in a mind to concentrate. I did not know I had the ability to alter other people’s opinions, or change their behaviour. ”
Lachlan stared at her, his eyes wide, his brows arched. “Can you hear my thoughts?”
She did not need to read his mind to know what he was thinking. “I haven’t tried.” She suppressed a smile as she watched him exhale with relief. “Although I knew you were lying when you told me you wanted to rent the mine.”
Isla sat back in her chair and pondered the notion of being able to use her newly discovered talent on Lachlan. She could use her magic to make him love her again. She had no husband and so they were free to marry; everything could be just as they’d always intended. Their lives would be blissfully happy.
“The irony is that everyone wishes they could possess such a gift,” Ivana’s comment disturbed her pensive musings, “yet in truth, it is a curse. It is a curse that brings nothing but mistrust. If you are a cold-hearted devil like Nikolai, then it is of no consequence. But no one wants to build a life upon a web of lies and deceit.”
Isla felt foolish for giving the idea merit. Could Ivana read her mind? Did she still have the ability to reach inside and pluck the thought from her addled brain? She wanted Lachlan to love her on his own terms, to see a genuine look of longing in his eyes once more. Besides, she had something far more pressing to consider.
“You mentioned you both suffered from infected blood.” Isla felt the familiar cramps flare in her stomach at the mere mention of blood. It had been hours since she had last taken sustenance. Running so frantically through the forest, coupled with the violent attack on Ivana in the bailey, had served to deplet
e her strength. She needed to drink, and soon.
Leo took his wife’s hand and squeezed it. “There are others like us too, other friends who have taken the elixir to cleanse their blood. Using the notes detailing the process, I have managed to replicate the cure.”
“And you have brought this elixir, this cure with you?” Isla held her breath as she waited for confirmation. There were still many questions she wanted to ask. The most prominent in her mind being how they knew where to find her.
Leo jerked his head towards the door. “Yes. We have the cure. We brought it with us from Bavaria. It is in our carriage, nestled safely inside a mahogany box. All you need to do is drink it, and you will walk in the sun again.”
Chapter 8
Lachlan sat back in the chair and followed the conversation regarding the cure with some trepidation. Only a few hours ago, he had stood in the Great Hall trying to quell the wealth of emotion that surfaced upon seeing Isla again. He could cope with her jibes and taunts. Guilt often made people react in such a way as to see blame cast on another. Anger was nothing more than a mask. Given a few more years, he could learn to live with all he had lost. But the evening had brought one shocking revelation after another, and he was not sure where to begin when it came to analysing his feelings.
He sucked in a breath and pondered what it was that disturbed him the most. Surprisingly, her deformed features: pointed fangs and eyes bulging with ugly red veins, did not affect him. Many people suffered from debilitating illnesses. Of course, her condition was somewhat feral and unconventional. But her wild, spirited character is what he loved about her.
No. What he struggled to accept was that Nikolai had compelled her into submission. And he had done nothing to assist her. Resentment had festered, forcing him to ignore his instincts, forcing him to leave her at the mercy of a hound.
He silently cursed.
