Betrayal

by A. S. Fenichel

  Her cheeks warmed. “Oh, but just think of how nice it will be to wake up in your own bed. Besides, this is your house. You need not be embarrassed about the hour.”

  “Technically, this is my father’s house. I use it because he does not.”

  She waved off the comment and waited for him to apply the knocker.

  The door opened, revealing a butler of middle years. He wore a robe and a sleepy expression. His sparse hair stood up straight and he hunched. “Sir, it’s good to see you. I did not expect you this evening.”

  “I apologize, Garvey. My companion was anxious to be back in London.”

  The butler bowed to Elizabeth. “Miss Smyth, I’m pleased you are here. The staff is at your disposal.”

  “Thank you, Garvey.”

  Reece said, “Why do I have the impression you two are not strangers.”

  “Miss Smyth has been kind enough to send several letters in the past few weeks.”

  She knew Reece stared at her without looking, but she did anyway, and his brows narrowed on her. “Has she?”

  “Indeed, sir.”

  Reece’s stare should have been intimidating, but her stomach tightened for an entirely different reason. “I had some business here, and Garvey was kind enough to assist.”

  Garvey cleared his throat. “Your rooms are ready. Mrs. Willis had them cleaned and readied in case you were early. If you would like to bathe, I can wake the footmen and have the tubs and water brought up.”

  “No. Thank you, Garvey. We shall let the house sleep and take care of our other needs tomorrow.”

  “Very good, sir. We have put Miss Smyth in the rose room.”

  “Go back to bed. I will show her the way.”

  The butler bowed and left them standing in the foyer.

  It felt intimate being alone with Reece in his house with only one candelabrum to light their way. “Is something wrong?”

  He picked up the light and started up the steps. “No. I’m fine.”

  “You do not look fine.”

  “I am tired. That is all.” The circles under his eyes confirmed some truth, but his mouth was set in a tight line. Maybe he was angry because she had contacted his staff without him knowing. Quite a lot about Reece Foxjohn remained a mystery to her.

  At the top of the stairs, she followed him to the left, down a hall, then another. He opened a door and stepped inside. “I will leave the light with you.”

  “Will you not need it to find your own bed?” She stepped close enough to feel his warmth, and her desire bloomed once again. What was it about him?

  He stepped back. “It is just down the hall. I know the way in my sleep. It has been my room since childhood.”

  “You do not use the master suite?”

  The flickering candlelight flashed in his eyes. “Those are my father’s rooms, and while he never comes to London, I respect this is still his house.”

  “Of course. Forgive me.”

  “There is nothing to forgive. Good night, Lizzy. If you need anything, my room is just around the corner on the left.” He stepped into the dark hallway and closed the door behind him.

  He had said his father lorded over this house, but he acted the part himself. His demeanor had changed in the few minutes they’d been in his home. A cool distance settled between them. Maybe her imagination had gotten the better of her. Maybe she too was just tired.

  His footsteps faded until the gentle closing of a door silenced them. Too tired to think of anything, she divested herself of her clothes and weapons, climbed into the soft bed, and sank into the pillow.

  * * * *

  Sunlight streamed through the window. Heavy curtains of rose damask surrounded the bed, but she had not drawn them closed. She blinked the room into focus. Pinks and the palest yellow made the chamber decidedly feminine. A thick rug warmed the floor, and the writing desk was equipped with quill and ink. Warmer days made it unnecessary for a fire in the hearth, and she had not opened the window, leaving the room stuffy.

  Once she coaxed herself from the soft mattress, she pulled open the large window and breathed in the chill morning air. A light drizzle cooled the morning. Home. London was all she had known until a year before. Since then, her world had expanded beyond her wildest dreams and nightmares.

  A knock startled her out of her reverie.

  “Yes, who is it?”

  The door opened and the blond head of a girl no more than seventeen poked through. She had rosy cheeks and an easy smile. “I’m Nancy, my lady. I can help you dress if you like.”

  “That will not be necessary, Nancy. Please call me Elizabeth. I am no lady.”

  The girl’s eyes widened to fill her face. “As you wish, Miss Elizabeth. Do you need anything?”

  Elizabeth looked at the washbasin, clothes, and soap. “No. I would love a bath this afternoon, if that can be arranged.”

  Relief spread across Nancy’s face. “I’ll see to it, miss.”

  Once Nancy had gathered the laundry, she left.

  Elizabeth took care of her personal needs, dressed, and headed downstairs.

  She found Reece standing in front of an opened double door with his arms crossed over his chest and a deep frown creasing his face.

  “What have you done to the ballroom?”

  “I did glean permission.”

  “This is what my father agreed to?”

  Her heart lodged in her throat. The room had several crystal chandeliers and expensive looking drapery. Trimmed in gold, the vaulted ceiling rose at least twenty feet, and Elizabeth would not have been surprised to learn that it was in fact real gold. Those were the only remnants of the ballrooms previous state of grace. It had been equipped with a punching bag and assorted boxing equipment, a floor cushion for hand-to-hand practice, a board made of slate generally used for musical compositions. She had a notion to put it to good use in Reece’s training. Racks of swords and knives lined one side of the enormous room, and one entire wall had been cushioned and set up with throwing targets.

  “I’m not exactly sure what your father expected. I was told we had permission to make any changes necessary to get you back to good health. This is what we need to do it.” She pulled her shoulders back and pushed her chin out in what she hoped was a strong, I-will-not-back-down look.

  He looked her up and down. She had put on trousers and a blouse, which she belted at the waist. Not a very ladylike look, but it would do for a training session.

  “You arranged all this?”

  “With the help of your remarkable butler and staff.”

  “Amazing.” He stepped inside the room and went to the armory. He pulled a sword out of the rack.

  “I do not think you are quite ready to take me on with a sword, Reece. Let’s go to the boxing and get you a bit stronger before we risk sharp objects.”

  He made an ugly stance with the sword. With his arm too low and his stance too high, he parried awkwardly and sloppy. With a sigh, he let the blade tip rest on the floor before putting it away. “It would seem you are correct. I defer to your training schedule.”

  “You are saying that I’m in charge?” Giddiness bubbled inside her.

  He bowed. “You are my instructor for the time being.”

  She clapped her hands. “Wonderful. Let’s go find something to break our fast. I’m starving.”

  He burst out laughing. “An excellent idea. I’m sure food has been prepared for us.”

  After a hearty meal of coddled eggs and meats, they took a walk in the garden.

  “Is this your idea of training? How long are we to walk in the London drizzle?”

  “Do not be so cross, Reece. You cannot begin too fast on a full stomach, and a little rain will not kill you. Besides, the walking will strengthen your legs and stamina.” She threaded her arm through his elbow, and they continued down the path to a large garden. They were quite far from the house within a maze of plants and blooms. A nagging headache be
gan in spite of the serene setting.

  Reece tugged her arm, stopping her dead.

  She pulled away and searched the area for whatever threat had caused his abrupt stop. “What is it?”

  He pointed toward the path in front of them.

  Her heart stopped beating or at least drawing breath became impossible. A stone, carved with a distorted fleur-de-lis lay in the path. It struck fear through her heart. The ache spread to her temple, and she squinted against it. “The symbol of the master, here, but how?”

  His face and neck burned red. “I intend to find out.”

  Reece stormed away, leaving her to chase after him. “Where are we going?”

  “To find the gardener.”

  The gardener, Mr. Homes, puttered inside his shed with flats of small plants. He stooped and winced. His gray hair was sparse and his knuckles bulged.

  “What the hell is on my garden path, Homes?”

  The gardener stumbled back, knocking over several plants on the bench. His eyes widened before he narrowed them on his employer. “I have no idea what you might mean, sir. I walked over the path just yesterday afternoon and nothing was amiss.”

  “Well, something is amiss now, and I want an explanation.”

  Homes righted the plants and turned toward the door. He hobbled down the path, and they followed until he too stopped abruptly over the symbol of the master. “This was not here yesterday, sir. I swear it on mi life. I’d never have left this here.”

  Reece looked around and ran his fingers through his dark blond hair. “Then the property has been breached and recently.”

  Elizabeth fought to keep breathing in and out. The pain in her head spread to her neck, and she stretched trying to relieve it. “He knows we are here, Reece. He knows, and he is warning us or trying to scare us.”

  “But how does he know?”

  Mr. Homes stared from one to the other. “Do you want me to remove this, sir?” He stepped closer.

  “No. Don’t touch it.” She blurted it out. The symbol’s poison crawled up her skin like a million spiders. Pain increased and continued to her shoulders.

  Reece touched her arm. “What is it, Lizzy?”

  “You will have to trust me. I cannot say why, but I think it unwise to touch that symbol. I can feel the evil on it.”

  “You are ill.”

  She straightened and tried breathing evenly. “No. I am fine.”

  “Mr. Homes, leave it for now. We need assistance. I will send a note to Lillian. She has recently dealt with such things. Perhaps she will know the best way to get rid of it.”

  Homes muttered a “yes, sir” before stomping back down the path in a fading stream of murmurs.

  * * * *

  An hour later, the newly married Marquis and Marchioness de Montalembert arrived to inspect the mark on the stone. The couple preferred Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, yet no one seemed to let them forget they had titles. Even Reece’s butler announced them by title.

  Lillian’s red hair was swept back from her face, and at the sight of Reece, she broke into a grin and dashed across the study into his arms. “You look so much better than even a few weeks ago.”

  Reece looked across at her husband, Dorian, who only grinned and shrugged. Reece set her away from him. “I’ve been improving. You remember Miss Smyth.”

  Lillian turned and hugged Elizabeth as well. “I’m so pleased you’re here, Elizabeth. I know Reece will certainly recover with you at his side.”

  Surprised at the show of affection, Elizabeth returned the hug in spite of the pain that now reached to her arms and back. She found it remarkably rewarding to have someone happy to see her. “Thank you, Lillian. I will do what I can, but of course, it is Reece who will have to do the work. He’s already proved he is quite capable in battle.”

  “Has there been a battle?” Dorian asked.

  Elizabeth nodded. “At the school.”

  “Spero Hall was attacked? Why haven’t we heard?” Dorian’s voice bit with danger.

  “It has only been a couple days. Not really an attack on the school as the demons were still gathering on the property.”

  Reece continued as if they’d been telling stories together for years. “Lizzy discovered them, and we made a preemptive strike.”

  “Reece handled himself well. He was even offered a position at the school.”

  Lillian stared from one to the other. “You’re not considering leaving the hunt, Reece?”

  “Was that a question, Lilly?”

  “I cannot believe you would give up.” Lillian fisted her hands and glared at him.

  Her husband intervened. “There is nothing wrong with instructing a new group of hunters. It’s quite honorable.”

  “Just because it’s the path your brother, Brice, has taken, does not mean it is the right choice for Reece. He was born to hunt. What does he know about teaching?”

  “I appreciate you support, Lilly.”

  “Oh, do not be offended. You know it’s true.”

  Elizabeth’s neck grew hot, and she’d had enough biting her tongue. “Actually, Reece was well liked and very effective in the training sessions. The students idolized him. For both reasons, Brice offered him the job.”

  Lillian faced Elizabeth, fists on her hips. “Then you think he should give up hunting and become an instructor.”

  She should have been more intimidated by the great Lillian Dellacourt. Maybe the pain pushed her, but she didn’t like the limitations Lillian put on Reece. It didn’t matter that she agreed with her. The words, you are no longer a scullery maid, rang in her head, and she would not forget it now. “I did not say that. I said he would be very good at it.”

  Reece cleared his throat. “Ladies, I have no intentions of becoming an instructor at this time. I shall only keep it as a last resort. If you remember, we have other problems.”

  Dorian said, “Yes, we came for a reason, Lilly. Shall we go to the garden and see if we can help?”

  “Of course.” Lillian turned and took the lead into Reece’s garden.

  Reece grabbed Elizabeth’s elbow and kept her back a few paces from the others. “You are very pale. Are you certain you’re all right?”

  Her heart raced and her palms were sweaty. The throbbing distorted her vision. “To be honest, I’ve not really felt myself since we found that thing.”

  “Maybe you should go upstairs and rest.”

  “No. I will be fine.”

  “Lizzy?” His beautiful blue eyes narrowed on hers, and he tightened his grip on her arm.

  She straightened her shoulders. “We will see this small thing through together.”

  The four of them looked down at the carving with Mr. Homes standing in the background, waiting for instruction and perhaps keeping watch over his garden.

  Dorian turned to the gardener. “You say this was not here yesterday. Are you certain?”

  Homes puffed out his chest and gestured as he spoke. “This is my garden, sir. I take care of it every day. I was down this very path before dark yesterday, and that abomination was not here.”

  Dorian nodded. “This will sound quite odd, but can you have one of the maids go to the butcher and fetch some goat’s blood?”

  Homes’s eyes widened and his skin paled. The gesturing, inherent in everything he said, stopped, and he stared. “Goat’s blood, sir?”

  “I’m afraid so. Actually, sheep’s blood might do just as well. I know it’s a strange request, but we will need it before you can remove this from your garden.” Dorian’s voice carried a sympathetic message that must have appealed to Homes. He shook his head, turned, and headed toward the house.

  Lillian said, “You have a problem, Reece.”

  “Several, I would say.” Reece gripped his hands behind his back. “I’ve had demons on my property, and they know our movements. This was either a calling card or a warning, and we do not know which.”

  The cook came running out with
a pot in her hands. “Sir, I was to the butcher just today. I have a nice lamb for stew later. I’ve gone ahead and brought you what you asked for. Is this enough?”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Brown. That will do nicely.” Reece took the pot from the red-faced cook.

  She bobbed and rushed back toward the house.

  Lillian tore a branch from a nearby bush and took the pot. She used the branch to paint the stone with a strange symbol of a three-looped knot.

  Since finding the symbol, Elizabeth had been tense. Her stomach unknotted at the sight of the new mark and calm settled over her. Her pain eased as well. “What is it?”

  Dorian answered, “The Triquetra of Harmony. It restores order where the master brings chaos.”

  “Lizzy?” Reece’s tone pitched lower, and deep creases surrounded his frown.

  It was both strange and wonderful to have someone care what happened to her. Hardly a person would have noticed her death a year earlier. Now she had Reece. “I’m better. Almost as soon as Lillian started her symbol, the pain eased.”

  Lillian put down the pot and crossed to her. She touched her shoulder. “Are you ill?”

  Perhaps more than one person cared what happened to her. The tightness in her chest eased. “I suffered some pain from the time we found the master’s symbol, and it was increasing until now.”

  Lillian pressed her palm to Elizabeth’s forehead. “You are a bit warm. Have you experienced anything like this before?”

  “The master appeared at the end of the battle on the grounds at Spero Hall. I had similar pain but only for a few moments.”

  “Somehow you are sensitive to him.”

  Reece put his arm around Elizabeth in a way that both warmed her and confused her. He’d been pushing her away, but now he protected her. “What are you implying?”

  The gardener cleared his throat.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Homes. Go ahead and take this away. Perhaps it would be best if you’re able to break the stone up and dispose of it? If you need to enlist a few footmen, you have my leave to do so.” Reece pointed with his free hand before fisting it at his side.

  “I’ll get right to it, sir.”

  Lillian and Dorian stared at the embrace.

  She eased away from him. “I’m fine, Reece. Let’s go in the house, call for tea, and let Mr. Homes go about his business.”