WitchofArundaleHall

by Jennifer Leeland

  Perry shot to his feet. “Tell me what happened.” He gripped her shoulders.

  “He crept in through my bedroom window,” she said, her tone desperate. “I am terrified.”

  Perry closed his eyes, sat back down and touched her knee. “Tell me,” he said in a softer tone.

  “Thankfully I was working on the second floor. Lord Alfred and Leo caught the thief in my room. They chased him out of the house but I believe Lady North orchestrated it.”

  When she stopped, he waited. She was silent for a long time.

  “What are you not telling me, Sarah?” he said sternly.

  “Lady North is in town and she has discovered that I am here.”

  Perry scowled. Lady Marion North. The woman was foul and evil. “She has no power over you, Sarah.”

  “Read this.” Sarah handed him a letter she’d had tucked in her apron.

  Lady Sarah Ayers

  Wolford Place

  London

  My dear Sarah,

  My sources inform me that you are residing in questionable circumstances. In the strongest terms, I advise you to come to me at Barringford Place. You will disgrace those of your acquaintance with this behavior.

  Reply at once.

  Lady Marion North

  How typical of Lady North to see Sarah’s stay at Wolford House only in the light of how it affected her. The woman took no responsibility for Sarah’s predicament—which was strictly Lady North’s fault.

  Perry feigned unconcern and handed Sarah back the letter. “What of it? She can do nothing now. I have the court’s approval and the head of your household has commended the match. By Wednesday next she will have no power over us.”

  Sarah shifted her feet in a nervous gesture Perry had rarely seen her display. “You don’t know her, know her persistence.”

  Of all people he did know the woman’s persistence. Sarah was right. Lady North would stop at nothing to hurt the Arundale family. What did Sarah have to do with that? “Sarah, why would Lady North want to hurt you?”

  Sarah bit her lip, an uncharacteristically vulnerable action that showed her reluctance to speak. “I think I should tell you everything so that you understand.”

  “That would be advisable.” Finally.

  “My parents’ marriage was arranged, their two families determined that they would have children.” She wouldn’t meet his gaze and Perry braced himself. “Lady North knows that I was born to break the curse. She sent me to Arundale to destroy you but she knew—” Sarah’s voice broke. “She hoped that you would take me as your mate and eliminate any chance to end your torment.”

  “And how would being mated to me stop you?” Perry didn’t believe any of it. Lady North was capable of twisting everything.

  “She said that the curse could only be stopped if I was unclaimed.” The fear in her eyes made Perry’s heart clench. “I believe that the person who attempted to break in last night—” Her breath caught and words seemed to fail her.

  “You believe it was another wolf. Not Marcus.” Perry knew his father had not been careful before he married. Lord Robert Applegate had been a bastard of Perry’s father, a secret hidden from all. Lord Robert’s mother, like Lord Marcus’, had been married to a gentleman, and the Duke of Kent had not known Lord Robert was not his son.

  Marcus was not under Lady North’s control, so who was the mysterious man who threatened Sarah? The invader had lashed out only when Perry had found her, not before. This was his fault.

  Perry rose and took her hand. “Pack your things. You are leaving.”

  “Oh no! Perry, no.” She violently shook her head.

  “Yes. I have an acquaintance who will give you a place to stay and I will protect you from Lady North.” He stroked her knuckles and held her frightened stare. “She will not threaten you again.”

  “Lord Alfred—”

  “Will understand. Be quick.” He led her to the door. “I will wait for you here.”

  As she hurried up the stairs he stared after her. She was right to be afraid. Lady North had the money and the influence to disrupt his plans. Wednesday next was not going to be soon enough.

  He rang the bell and a maid appeared. “Can a messenger be sent for me?”

  “Of course, sir. What message?” The woman was very young and sly-looking. But perhaps Perry was getting suspicious due to the circumstances.

  “I would like my man of business to meet me here. Can someone fetch him for me?” He placed a coin in the maid’s hand.

  She bobbed a curtsy and sped out of the room. Yes, Jaimison would have to roust up the priest and the brother for an early wedding. Lady North would waste no time in blocking any marriage that might lead to Sarah’s happiness. The woman had viciously spread the gossip the Duke of Kent had begun, even though the truth was well known to her.

  Forty minutes later Jaimison appeared, his face flushed and his reddish hair tousled. “What has happened?”

  “Lady North.”

  Jaimison’s eyes narrowed and he nodded. “What’s to be done then?”

  “Sarah is to go to Madame de Laval’s.”

  After everything Jaimison had seen in the years he’d dragged Perry out of brothels and dens of iniquity, apparently he could still be shocked. “But she—”

  “She is eminently respectable these days,” Perry said, amused. “Her harrowing experience in a French prison as a child during the Terror and her manuscripts on the subject have made her something of a personage in the ton.”

  “Her escapades since then too, I imagine.” Jaimison had regained his composure and his tone was dry.

  “There is more to her than that.” Perry had met the woman in a brief, mysterious encounter that had haunted him. But soon after their meeting she had left England for the wilds of Mother Russia. She was unconventional but an oddity whom the ton seemed to accept. She was an older lady now and many had forgotten her scandals and improprieties. The ton had forgotten that she had been divorced and disgraced by her husband. Now they only remembered her tragic past of French terror and tyranny.

  “I hope you know what you are doing.” Jaimison gazed at Perry with a concerned expression.

  “So do I. Take this around to Madame de Laval. Use my horse. You brought my carriage, I hope?” He handed Jaimison a brief note. Madame Louise de Laval did not need many words.

  “I did. Does Sarah know where she’s going?”

  “Not yet. I’m sure she will object. But Madame’s questionable residence is infinitely better than the infamous Wolford House.”

  “True.” Jaimison frowned. “Your nuptials will not wait.”

  “No.” Perry sighed. “She will hate me all the more. You’ll have to get the priest and I’ll get her brother. Though I think he may be aware already, if I know Lady Marion North.”

  Jaimison clapped Perry on the shoulder and left without another word. Five minutes later Sarah appeared with a small bag and a hatbox. That was all.

  Her meager possessions, so neatly packed, almost broke his heart. She deserved so much more and he hoped to provide it. The question was whether he would survive his own wedding night once she learned of their destination and his plans.

  * * * * *

  “Madame de Laval?” Sarah almost shrieked the name. In the confines of the carriage she sounded shrill and tried to moderate her tone. “The woman is divorced.”

  “The woman is in her forties and accepted by the ton.” He didn’t mention that Madame de Laval flouted many traditions still, as Sarah was well aware, though only in private. The ton looked the other way because Madame de Laval had two important things—money and beauty.

  “Accepted but not approved,” Sarah said primly. She knew she was being stubborn. Her knowledge of Madame Louise de Laval was only what she had heard as a debutante. Shockingly unconventional, Madame attended the galas and stole every available man without lifting a finger. She was beautiful, French and dangerous to know. Every man in the room was her slave.

  Her m
other had been kinder in her assessment of Madame de Laval but Lady North had been scathing, though Madame claimed an acquaintance with her. Which was why Perry had chosen the woman. Madame de Laval would be able to stymie Lady North’s efforts to bring Sarah to heel.

  “She is much more than her reputation, as are you,” Perry said calmly, as if he were speaking to a child.

  Sarah opened her mouth to protest and closed it. What had she heard about Madame de Laval? Licentious rumors of orgies and deviant behavior had been all over the ton even years after the scandal. Her husband had rejected her, divorced her publicly. Yet the woman had never denied anything, facing her critics with the same beatific smile she always had.

  Sarah’s mother had pitied her and never cut her dead. Somehow they were distantly connected, though Sarah had never known in what way. Madame had kept their meetings short yet filled with warmth. It was Lady North’s viperous tongue that had caused Sarah to doubt Perry’s wisdom. “How do you know her?” she asked.

  “She…rescued me once when I was in a difficult predicament,” he said, and stared out the carriage window. “I was often in difficult predicaments,” he said in a painful, wry tone. “She told me, without speaking directly, that she knew of my affliction and that she wanted to help me.”

  “She knew?” Sarah stared at him, her mouth open again.

  “I, of course, refused her kind offer with my usual charm,” he said with bitter sarcasm. “She is somehow connected to my family.”

  “And mine,” Sarah blurted out.

  Perry leaned forward. “You realize what we will have to do.”

  Sarah clenched her fists. “Marry immediately.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t want it to be this way.” He took one of her tightly closed fists in his. “You will not believe me if I tell you that it will be right in the end, will you?”

  She tugged her hand away. “No, Mr. Arundale. I will not.”

  “I’m afraid you will have to pretend. For the priest.” Perry spoke the words as the carriage stopped in front of a beautiful house in a wealthier part of London. “I will be back for you in one hour. Be ready.”

  Her stomach churned. He couldn’t mean it. “You are leaving me here? Without an introduction?”

  Perry’s smile was wicked. “Madame de Laval needs no introduction. Jaimison!” he called, and the tall man of business appeared out of nowhere.

  Jaimison was an imposing figure, perfectly capable of dragging her out of the carriage if she refused. He had been protecting Perry for years, a responsibility given to him by Perry’s brother Joshua.

  “This way, miss,” he said gently.

  “Mr. Jaimison, what a surprise.” She glared at Perry. “You never miss an opportunity to humiliate me, do you?”

  The smirk on Perry’s face faded and he bowed his head. “So you say. One hour, Sarah. Don’t be late.”

  She flounced out of the carriage with Jaimison’s strong arm to steady her and refused to look back as Perry left.

  “Miss, please believe me when I say that Mr. Arundale only has your best interests in mind.” Jaimison’s tone was reassuring. “He and only he can round up the appropriate parties to marry you and stop Lady Marion North.”

  “He has only reinforced what I knew already. He does not care for me except as his blood mate.” She tipped her chin. “I am only a means to tame the wolf inside him. Once I break the curse he will abandon me soon enough.”

  Jaimison shook his head. “The feminine mind is beyond me. He has been your slave since he met you, even when you were his maid. But I suppose with his carousing and unhappy childhood he is not a good catch for an ambitious woman.”

  She dropped his arm and faced him, her temper slipping. “Carousing? Of course he sought oblivion in drink and sex. His parents were killed. His grandmother has never ceased to admonish him in public. And his brother left him to deal with his curse alone. Yet he did not break. He is a good catch for any woman, ambitious or not.”

  “That is exactly what I told him,” a deep, husky voice interrupted Sarah’s tirade.

  Sarah whirled around and saw a beautiful, tall woman with silky black hair flowing over her shoulder. She wore the latest fashion, a plunging neckline revealing perfect curves. Her eyes were smoky gray and her face had few lines to mar its perfection. This woman in her forties? Impossible.

  Quickly Sarah tried to regain her composure. “Madame. I don’t know if you remember me—”

  The woman swept toward Sarah and took both her hands. “But of course I remember. Lady Sarah Ayers. Your mother was my second cousin, Mathilde. She and I shared a common grandfather. Please come in.”

  Somehow Madame’s warm welcome made Sarah’s throat tighten. It was her mother’s kindness that made Madame treat her with courtesy. “Madame, please don’t feel obliged to take me in.”

  The woman stopped short and stared at Sarah. “Obliged?” She seemed puzzled for a moment then her brow smoothed. “Oh, I see.” She cupped Sarah’s chin. “Child, no amount of gossip would keep me from helping a relation in need. I am well aware of who Lord Robert was, and avoided him as much as possible.” Her smile only made her more beautiful. “You are most welcome in my home.”

  It was a stunning residence, with three staircases and a large dining room. They climbed the first staircase to the drawing room. When they entered, Sarah was amazed by the sheer number of books that dominated the room.

  A deep male voice startled Sarah. “Am I to play second fiddle to the written word yet again?”

  “Miss Sarah Ayers, this is Mr. Cyril Asher,” Madame de Laval said with a flourish, then she laughed. “I don’t think I’ve said your full name in years.”

  He grinned and his handsome face transformed into something resembling that of a Greek God. “It was worth meeting Miss Ayers to hear you repeat it.”

  The heat between them was instantly apparent. For Sarah it was a painful reminder that the one she loved did not return that love.

  Jaimison bowed and Sarah curtsied to their new acquaintance.

  Mr. Asher raised one eyebrow. “And who is this gentleman?”

  Sarah, stricken, cast a quick silent apology at Jaimison. “Sir, this is Mr. Edward Jaimison, who is a man of business and my escort.”

  Mr. Asher, surprisingly, shook Jaimison’s hand. “I’ve heard of you, of course. You and the men in your employ are respected by the ton for your discreet handling of delicate matters.”

  “You do me too much credit, sir,” Jaimison said calmly.

  “Jaimison and I have met before,” Madame de Laval said with a twinkle in her gaze. “I believe it was a gaming house, was it not?”

  “I believe it was, Madame. Your assistance was invaluable.” Jaimison bowed.

  Madame de Laval smiled and ran a daring finger across Jaimison’s cheek. “I was compensated.”

  Sarah stared at Jaimison as his face turned a deep red and he cleared his throat. “Madame, the pleasure was all mine.”

  “I doubt that,” Mr. Asher said with a wicked grin.

  She was out of her depth and Sarah knew it. Jaimison had clearly enjoyed a sexual encounter with Madame de Laval, and Sarah was a foolish child playing with adults.

  Madame led her to a settee and kept her close. “Ring for tea, Cy. I’ve had my fun.”

  “I must go, Madame,” Jaimison said. “I shall return if that would be convenient.”

  “I insist on it, my old friend,” she said, and held out her hand. Jaimison was more suave than Sarah had ever seen him as he bent over the beautiful woman’s hand.

  Even more surprisingly he winked at her as he did it. Then he was gone and Sarah was alone with these dubious patrons.

  “Now,” Madame said with relish. “You must tell me the whole story. How in the world did you end up engaged to Mr. Perry Arundale? How did you like Wolford House?”

  The whole situation overwhelmed Sarah and her lower lip trembled. She was not going to cry. She cleared her throat. “I have no story, r
eally. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors.”

  Mr. Asher slid onto the couch beside her. Sarah felt warm, caught between these two gorgeous creatures, their attention solely on her. “We did not credit the rumors,” Mr. Asher replied. “The duke was known to be a consummate liar.”

  Madame tilted her head. “But I sense that Wolford House made you curious.”

  How could she know that? Sarah swallowed, trying to get rid of the dry sensation that now plagued her. Did it show? “Curious? Well—” She stopped as Madame placed her hand on Sarah’s knee.

  “It is not an easy thing to resist.” The woman was almost as tempting as Perry. Sarah should have been appalled with herself, to be sexually drawn to a woman like this. But it was a familiar sensation since Perry had marked her with his bite.

  With effort she took a deep breath and gritted her teeth. “Mr. Arundale said that you could be trusted with his family secret,” she said, her voice shaking a little, to her shame.

  The frivolous attitude disappeared and Madame de Laval glanced at Mr. Asher. “Cy and I both are familiar with the DeFalk legacy.”

  “I plan to go to France to undo the legacy.” She spoke with more confidence than she felt but she had to keep her mind set.

  “I see,” Madame de Laval said quietly. “And Perry. How does he fit into this plan?”

  “He doesn’t,” she said firmly.

  Madame reached up and stroked her face. The touch was sensual, a caress that held no motherly gesture. Fire sprang between them and Sarah’s breath caught. It was so appallingly easy to arouse her, to send her thoughts into torrid fantasies. The woman slid her hand along Sarah’s collarbone to the edge of her cleavage and dipped expertly into her bodice.

  “You are marked by him.” Madame moved closer and Sarah would have backed away but Mr. Asher was behind her on the small settee, his solid presence blocking her escape.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to escape.

  Yet she was well aware that Perry had not given her leave to be touched by another. Why that would matter at all was a mystery to her. After all, she’d been clear with him that she wanted no sexual relations between them. Nevertheless she was aware that Perry had an invisible yet palpable claim on her.