WitchofArundaleHall

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WitchofArundaleHall Page 9

by Jennifer Leeland


  “I think I understand,” he said, and her thoughts snapped back to the present. One of his hands cupped her face. “You think I don’t know you, that I know the map of your sweet body but I am lost in the landscape of your mind. Is that it?”

  He had arrived at the truth without hints from her and she could not deny it. “The first time you really looked at me you only saw a maid, a woman with the right blood that you were inexplicably drawn to.” She shifted away from his touch. “What do you really know of me? You punished me for my betrayal by taking my innocence but what do you know of my reasons?”

  The guilt on his face was heartwrenching and he dropped his hand. “Sarah, I—” He averted his gaze and she resisted the urge to touch him, comfort him. He took a deep breath and took her hand, his focus on her fingers. “You are right. Will you let me know you before you insist on leaving me?”

  To hear him ask, a man of his pride and dominance, a man with his needs, was almost more than she could stand. “Perry, I do this as a favor,” she said gently. “Once you know me you will not regret me when I am gone.”

  He tightened his lips and finally raised his head to meet her stare. “I do not believe that.”

  “I choose not to test it.” Desperately she tried to pull her hand away.

  “I do,” he said firmly. “Trust me, Sarah. There is nothing in your past that can be any worse than the things I’ve done.”

  “You say that now,” she said. Why wouldn’t he let her go? “But I am not offering up my life on a hope that you won’t condemn me. We both know you can’t live up to that.”

  “Then you must let me prove it to you.” He backed away from her but kept her hand in his. “If we had met and I had wanted you, I would have had to get to know you. I am willing to do that.”

  Again she tugged on her hand. “I am not.”

  One of his eyebrows shot up. “Scared?”

  Yes! “It does not matter if I am or not.” She straightened, the cold of the evening and her fatigue from traveling finally sinking in. “I only want one thing. I want to end the curse.”

  As if he’d noticed she was tired, he took her arm gently and led her to one of the two high-backed chairs by the fireplace. Once she sat, he sat in the other seat, his hands still keeping hers captured. “Why?”

  The simple question undid her. “Because I’ve seen how it makes people suffer.” How it makes you suffer. “It hurts, the change, doesn’t it?”

  He frowned, a single line on his forehead making her want to reach out and soothe it away. “Yes and no.” His thumb stroked the back of her hand. “There are things about the wolf that are not bad.”

  In all the years she’d known him she’d never heard him speak like this. “You hate yourself because of it.”

  His gray eyes were thoughtful, clear of the bitterness that had always clouded them in the past. “I hated myself before the wolf manifested itself in me.” He shook his head. “In the five years I lived with her, Lady North never hesitated to remind me that I was a mistake, a burden on my parents while they lived and worth nothing to anyone. When I changed the first time, it both frightened me and excited me.” His fingers tightened on hers. “The power I could wield was tempting.” He met her gaze. “I never murdered a single human being but I came close many times. I drowned my desire to kill in drink and meaningless sex. The wolf was not my problem, Sarah.”

  He revealed so much, his heart open and the clasp of his hand gentle. She leaned forward and placed her other hand over his. “I don’t want to torment future generations with this…this responsibility.”

  “What if you cannot stop the curse, Sarah?” he asked her. “What if your fate is to be with me?”

  What she had wanted to prevent was the devastating pain she’d seen on Marcus’ face after Derek’s murder. If Perry was loosely connected to her, when she was gone, he wouldn’t be like Marcus, desolate and hurting. And other reasons she could not reveal.

  When she answered him she realized how completely she’d failed. “I don’t believe in fate,” she lied. At his wince she gripped his hands. “When my parents died I learned what freedom was because I had none. Before their deaths I had been carefree, selfish, caring little for what the future might hold. Once I was at the mercy of my circumstances I learned that I had been given a gift, one I didn’t appreciate.” She willed him to understand. “I want to be free to choose, Perry. I don’t want to be imprisoned by fate.”

  He struggled with her answer, she could see. The dominant part of him, the part the wolf had brought to the surface, wanted to take those choices away from her, to free her in a strange way. Sarah had experienced the freedom that came with his possession, the oxymoron that existed between them she couldn’t explain. Her soul longed to surrender, to accept his love before she faced the inevitable end she seemed doomed to choose.

  How could she tell him she was bred to close the door on a brutal curse that had existed for centuries? How could she reveal that Lady North had deliberately set Sarah on this path to her own sacrifice, knowing the young girl would choose her death rather than let another two hundred years pass?

  “I will help you do this thing,” he said slowly, and she noted how difficult it was for him to say the words. His stare on her face made her face flush hot. “I will prove to you that we are connected by more than this curse.”

  She widened her eyes. “You believe that?”

  He sighed. “You think I didn’t notice you? That I paid no attention to the woman who cleaned my grate for three years?” He shook his head. “I know you better than you think, Sarah. I know that you love the sunshine, that heather is your favorite flower, that you like to read books, that you smile when a child laughs and that you have a generous heart. I have seen you give your last coin to a farmer’s child because you hate to see hunger.” He tugged on her hands and pulled her out of the chair to stand between his knees. “I saw the pity you had for Marcus after Derek was killed. I saw your bravery when that bastard Applegate tormented you.” His hands were still twined with hers and the heat between them made her breath hitch. His words stabbed her in the heart and made her long to drop to her knees and lay her head in his lap. Even though he gazed up at her he still seemed to overpower her, his hands locked with hers and his voice relentless. “I’ve seen you fight even when your enemy is bigger, stronger and meaner.” Mesmerized, she didn’t protest as he brought her closer and placed her arms around his neck. “You are brave and beautiful, a woman any man would want.” He encircled her within his hold and before she knew it she was in his embrace, sitting on top of him, her head on his shoulder. “Let me show you that I can be what you need me to be,” he said in a low whisper.

  You already have. You are everything I need. Forever. She couldn’t say the words, her heart cracking into a million pieces. Instead she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder and nodded.

  As the sun slipped away and the room was plunged into darkness Perry held her, just held her. He didn’t try to make love to her or demand more from her. They were both silent, the quiet between them one of the most beautiful things Sarah had ever experienced.

  For the first time in her life Sarah felt safe, loved, as if she mattered.

  When he broke the silence he spoke in a calm, soothing voice that didn’t jar her. “After I discovered you had gone to London I was very sick and succumbed to delirium for many weeks. In those times, when I thought I was going to die, I clung to thoughts of you, of your strength and your sweet nature.” She heard the humor in his tone as he continued. “I was as weak as a babe but I made up my mind that I was going to be the man I should have been. That even if you turned away from me and hated me I was going to face myself and live my life instead of running from it.”

  In the darkness she couldn’t see his face but she sensed his determination, the steel in his resolve. She thought she’d loved him before, recognizing the tenderness she felt for him. But this thing between them was more than she’d ever believed. “I did
not run from you because I hated you.”

  His hold tightened around her briefly. “I did not take your innocence as punishment. Nor did I Claim you to keep others from you. I Claimed you because I—”

  She covered his mouth with hers. She knew the words that might have followed and couldn’t hear them, couldn’t say them back. It was a bold move, one she might regret in the future, but she didn’t want any more tender declarations.

  “Please,” she whispered as she broke the kiss to take a breath. “Say no more.”

  He was still, the silence now heavy and filled with unspoken words. He set her on her feet and rose from the chair. Then he cupped her face and brushed her lips with his. “Change into your nightgown, love,” he said. “Tomorrow we must see the du Bussein family and obtain an introduction to the bishop.”

  Chapter Nine

  He loved her. The words had hovered on Perry’s lips but Sarah had stopped them. As he observed her across the breakfast table he marveled at her composed features. Secrets were hidden in the depths of those beautiful blue eyes and he would ferret them out.

  The sun was bright and cheerful, giving the street below a festive appearance. A message had already arrived from the du Bussein family indicating their eagerness to welcome the younger son of an English duke. It was signed by Chevelle du Bussein, the man directly descended from the Count du Bussein who had once ruled this part of Normandy. Though the title had reverted to the French monarchy, some of the land remained and the Monsieur du Bussein was still considered a powerful man by the locals.

  Sarah said little as they ate and prepared to visit her illustrious relative. He watched her and wondered. It was clear to him that she was determined to follow through on ending the curse. He recognized that she believed the curse was evil, causing pain to those she cared about. He wasn’t sure whether he was in the same category as Gerry, his nine-year-old cousin, or if he held a higher place in Sarah’s regard.

  She was resigned, as if she faced a hard task but felt she had no choice but to do it. For all her talk of wanting freedom she still acted on her perception of duty and honor. Whatever it was that motivated her, there was no dissuading her. He was sure that his only option was to remain by her side and protect her from whatever might threaten her.

  Why would she continue on this journey to end the curse? He had Claimed her and no scroll could undo that. But maybe she hoped the scrolls would reveal more. He certainly did. At the moment all they had to go on was what Lady North had told them, and who knew where the truth lay there?

  Jaimison appeared at the inn’s entrance as Perry followed Sarah down the stairs from their room. He looked concerned. “Monsieur du Bussein has sent a carriage for you, Mr. Arundale.”

  Sarah immediately headed toward the waiting carriage. He gripped her arm. “Wait,” he said quietly.

  Without warning, the carriage door was flung open and a man appeared with a knife in his hand. But Jaimison had been as suspicious as Perry. Since the stranger was focused on Sarah, he missed Jaimison’s fist until it smacked him in the head. The driver stood on the dashboard and flung a dagger at Jaimison, catching the big man a glancing blow on his shoulder.

  Perry launched himself from the front to the dashboard and grabbed the driver. The man raised an arm, another dagger in his hand ready to strike.

  Someone yanked on his coat, loosening his hold on the driver and pulling him back from the downward swipe of the descending blade. He hit the ground with a grunt, something soft beneath him.

  He started to spring to his feet but Sarah’s hands held him fast and he growled as the wolf surged forward, wanting to hunt its prey, destroy the threat to his mate. A knife whizzed past his ear. Had he been standing he’d have been stabbed. The driver spurred the horses forward, careening through the village streets.

  Damn. I should have been better prepared. He turned and lifted Sarah to her feet. “Are you hurt?” he demanded.

  She was breathless but seemed unharmed. “I am not.”

  The other miscreant was out cold. Jaimison sat on the ground, his hand clutched to his shoulder and blood oozing between his fingers.

  “Get me a towel,” Perry shouted to the innkeeper.

  He kneeled beside Jaimison and ripped away his cravat to press against the wound. The knife had been buried deep in the back of his shoulder and Jaimison had yanked it out, the bloody weapon lying beside him.

  “I will go for a doctor,” Sarah said, her voice shaky and her face white.

  “No.” He didn’t want her out of his sight. “Send a servant. We don’t know where the doctor resides. Help me get him to our room.” There was a settee there and Perry’s experience with knife wounds was that lying flat was uncomfortable.

  Sarah didn’t argue. She helped Perry to heave Jaimison to his feet. His man of business was stubborn. “My legs are fine, sir.”

  “You’ve lost blood. It can make you dizzy,” Sarah said, reminding him of the scars she still had on her back from her experience of blood loss.

  “What about…?” Jaimison glanced back over his shoulder and Perry noted that the other man was gone.

  “It doesn’t matter, Jaimison.” Sarah locked arms with Perry at Jaimison’s back and helped the man up the stairs. “They don’t matter.”

  Perry knew she was right. The two men had been paid to attack them. Who had given the orders was the only important thing. And Perry was sure he already knew who’d done it.

  A message was sent to Monsieur du Bussein explaining their late arrival and another servant dispatched for the doctor. Luckily Bayeux had a good doctor who cleaned and sewed Jaimison’s wound.

  “Rest is all he needs,” the doctor said. “The wound wasn’t deep enough to cause concern.”

  Jaimison met Perry’s gaze. “Go. I’ll be fine. I don’t like it, but waiting is not an option.”

  He nodded. “We won’t stay. I’m sure our host will understand.”

  Sarah took Jaimison’s hand. “I’ve asked the maid to look in on you. We will stay for tea and come back.”

  They obtained their rented carriage and Perry insisted on driving it with Sarah beside him. As he prepared his pistol and stowed it beneath the seat, he made his argument. “I know the wind will muss your pretty hair, but I insist. I feel I can protect you better if you are by my side.”

  She gave him no argument but placed her hand in his and joined him in the carriage. He was surprised that she trembled.

  When she was settled he urged the horses forward and the carriage bumbled along the cobbled streets. She was too quiet and he didn’t know how to break the silence without frightening her.

  “It was Lady North, wasn’t it?” she said in a small voice he barely heard over the clapping hooves of the team.

  “I think so,” he replied.

  “They were aiming for me.” Her fingers were wrapped around his right arm and they squeezed him in fear.

  “Yes.” He didn’t lie to her. “Can you think why? Why does Lady North want to stop you so insistently?”

  She was silent for so long, he wondered if she would answer. But she finally did. “She showed me some documents, papers that she never allowed you or anyone else to see.” She inhaled a shuddering breath. “They were copies of the very scrolls I must read at the monastery. Incomplete copies. Faded and, in some instances, unreadable.” Her hand clenched on his arm. “They were specific family lines, all documented, with notations.”

  He had to wait again as she seemed to struggle with something, some internal argument against speaking. When she spoke there were tears in her voice. “My birth was carefully planned, my mother’s marriage to my father arranged long before they were even born. There is always one, the scrolls said, who can end the curse.”

  “You.”

  She nodded. “But they warn that the one who tries to break the curse must not be Claimed by a wolf. They do not reveal why, but they seemed clear.”

  “So why are we here, Sarah?” He glanced at her pensive face. �
�I Claimed you before we left England.”

  “There is a way but the papers say it requires a blood sacrifice.”

  Blood sacrifice. He didn’t like the sound of that. “And your blood will break the curse? How?” he asked sharply.

  For three years he’d watched her wait on him and his sister-in-law. He’d noted her moods, her quirks, her smiles. When she lied he knew that too. Her answer was evasive and deceptive. “The scrolls were not specific.”

  He tightened his hands on the reins. Why was he surprised that she didn’t trust him? She might want him, desire him, but anything more would be foolish, surely. “So we are going to the monastery to view the scrolls there to find out?”

  “I have to see those scrolls.” Still evading. Her earnestness was not feigned. .

  He gritted his teeth and nodded sharply. “And so you shall.” The manor house loomed before them and he brought the horses to a stop. When a servant gripped the reins, Perry leaned in close to his mate and whispered, “You will tell me everything.” There was an underlying sensual threat to his demand and she shuddered.

  The lust mixed with apprehension he noted in her quick glance was gratifying. He jumped down from the carriage hastily and stepped in front of the footman, who offered to help Sarah down. Instead Perry lifted her from the seat, his hands on her hips and his gaze locked with hers.

  She stared at him when her feet touched the ground and a sweet blush flared over her cheeks. “Thank you, sir,” she said.

  “Take my arm, my love. It has been a very trying day for you.” He gave her no choice but tucked her hand beneath his arm and walked with her to the door. He would have liked to cancel the engagement but they needed access to the monastery and the scrolls.

  She did not know it yet but he had determined they would face the future, whatever evils it might hold, together.

  * * * * *

  The tea was strong and restored Sarah’s spirits. Lady du Bussein was a plump, motherly type who gasped and commiserated when Perry informed her of the reason for their delay. The Count du Bussein, her son, was a young man with an open air about him and a quickness to smile. Sarah found him charming but rather naïve. She was surprised to find he was only a year older than she and, at twenty-five, he seemed young and inexperienced.

 

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