by Lexi Aurora
“Would you like some tea, my lord?” I asked, without looking at him. Still, I felt his eyes on my face.
“That would be nice, thank you,” he said in a soft voice. I hurried off into the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove, chewing on my lip. I turned around, gasping when I noticed that Julian was right behind me. Startled, I took a step back. He put his hands up in a gesture meant to indicate that he meant me no harm.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I put my hand to my chest to calm my heart, though for some reason it continued to race long after my fear had dissipated. He was standing within a couple of feet of me, and his eyes were lingering on my mouth. I thought for a moment that he would kiss me, because he tilted his face forward. I licked my bottom lip and his eyes flickered to mine, asking for permission. It was then that the kettle began to whistle, and I broke eye contact with him abruptly and turned around to the stove, pulling the steaming pot off the boiler. My body was trembling and my hands shook as I poured the water into the cups. I turned around and handed him one, our fingers brushing together as I did so. I didn’t meet his eye, but brushed past him to leave the kitchen, alarmed at my reaction to someone who was a stranger to me.
I sat down on the sofa and he took a seat in the chair across from me, setting his tea down on the table. He sat straight in the chair, his body on edge like mine was.
“I wanted to talk to you about my brother,” he said. “I know you’ve been seeing him.”
“For services, my lord,” I said quickly. “I am not involved with your brother.”
“I know,” he said, a slight smile playing on his lips. I flushed with embarrassment. “He’s been coming to you for your abilities.”
He said the last word with a hint of irony that was not lost on me.
“He has,” I told him. “But I don’t talk about the details of my clients’ sessions.”
He stared at me for a long moment, studying my features. “My brother is injured. He’s having nightmares, screaming in the middle of the night. He keeps telling me he saw our dead father.”
I bit my lip, shaking my head.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” I said, looking down at my hands.
“Julian,” he said. I looked up at him. “I am not your lord.”
“Julian,” I repeated. “I don’t think your brother would want me to tell you what we’ve spoken about.”
“It’s not up to him,” Julian said. “He’s out of his mind right now.”
“And what will you do to help him?” I asked. “Even if you know the truth.”
“There’s got to be some way to stop this obsession with my father’s death. If you’ve been telling Jason that you’re communicating with him—“
“I haven’t,” I said. “I told him that your father’s spirit passed on.”
Julian ran his hands through his hair, making it stand up wild and mussed around his face. I couldn’t help but stare at him, his perfect bone structure and a mouth that looked soft and warm. His lips were parted as if he was going to speak but he stopped himself, instead grinning at me. The expression surprised me given his frustration, but I found myself smiling back without trying.
“You’re very good at what you do,” he said after a moment. “You almost had me convinced at the party.”
“Have you ever thought that I might not be faking it?” I asked him. He chuckled and shook his head.
“I have thought a lot of things about you, Miss Temple,” he told me. “Many things. But none of them had anything to do with what you do here.”
“What kinds of things?” I asked him, before realizing how forward the question was, how bold. He only leaned forward to gape at me from across the table, that grin still on his lips.
“I’d rather show you than tell you, Miss Temple,” he said in a voice that was like a caress. I felt my whole body flush deeply, my lips parted in wonder and surprise at his words. I was watching him through my lashes, tracking his face as he spoke.
“Call me Fiona,” I told him, the only words I could find to say. He gave me a nod, holding my eye.
“I need your help, Fiona,” he said, and his face grew serious again as he spoke. “My brother—he’s not well.”
“I don’t know what I can do for him,” I told Julian. “I’ve told him several times that I’m having no contact with your father.”
“I need you to deny him,” Julian said. “Send him away. You’re only catering to his madness.”
“I’ve been trying to help him,” I said. He stood up, crossed the room to me and knelt down in front of me. He took both of my hands in his, holding both of them together between his own. The touch felt warm and tender, the skin-to-skin contact more sensual than I would have imagined. His face was level with mine where I sat and I looked into his eyes, hypnotized by the depths of their almost golden color.
“Please,” he said softly, his thumbs brushing the insides of my wrists. “You have to end this. It’s driving him crazy.”
I studied him for a moment before nodding.
“I’ll send him away,” I said. He looked so serious, so desperate that I could not tell him no. And his closeness was overriding my senses, anyway, making it hard to think. He continued to hold my hands and stroke my wrists with his fingers. Then he leaned forward before I realized what he was doing and brushed his lips over mine in a soft whisper of a kiss. My lips parted in response and he took my bottom one between his, sucking on it gently before releasing my mouth. I breathed against his lips, frozen with desire, unable to pull back from him though I knew I should. I was about to take his mouth in a real kiss when he pulled away.
“Thank you, Fiona,” he said softly and stood up in front of me. I looked up at him from where I was sitting, met his eye. He was smiling at me. He reached his hand forward and put it to my cheek, stroking my bottom lip with his thumb.
“Goodbye, Julian,” I said, and he pulled his hand away from me before leaving the house. I sat frozen on the couch. Inside, my body felt desperately hot and strained. I fanned myself with my hand, leaning back against the sofa and taking a few deep breaths. I didn’t know when I’d see him again, but I knew that Julian had the ability to become as big of a problem for me as his brother.
Chapter 9: Julian
Despite the situation with my brother, the immediate direness of it, my mind was filled with nothing but thoughts of Fiona as I traveled home from her place. I had almost kissed her. Almost. But I’d stopped myself, not because I wanted to, but because it was a bad idea. I’d known it as soon as she began to respond to my kiss; her attraction was as obvious and potent as mine, but getting involved with her was nothing but trouble. Not only was she below my station, she was a spiritualist, one who was heavily involved in something with my brother. I couldn’t kiss her, no matter how badly I wanted to.
When I got home, I didn’t see anyone, neither a servant nor Jason. I went looking for him; he hadn’t been awake before I left, and I was sure that he would be up by now. I hadn’t wanted to wake him after he’d been so restless the night before, but I was deeply worried about him after what had happened.
I searched for him in his office but I didn’t find him there. He wasn’t in his room, either, so I went outside to search a place that he could often be found. It was one of his favorite places on the property: a dark corner of the gardens that blocked the afternoon sun with a high row of bushes. It was cool there, and peaceful. I walked along the garden path until I got to the high bushes, then peeked around the corner. He was sitting on the bench there, staring ahead at nothing. He was obviously lost in thought, but had a strange look on his face, half a look of fear and half anger.
“Jason,” I said, alarmed by the expression. It was so unlike him and nothing that I had ever seen before on his usually mild features. “What are you doing out here?”
“I needed to get out of the house,” he said, almost muttering the words. He didn’t look at me, but kept looking straight ah
ead. I approached him slowly and sat down next to him on the bench, my eyes traveling to where his line of vision was settled. There was nothing there but a rose bush with vivid scarlet roses that had just started blooming for the year.
“Did you end up getting some sleep?” I asked him. He looked at me then and shook his head, his whole countenance drooping. I had never seen him look so tired, so pale before.
“Kept having nightmares,” he said, but didn’t elaborate any further. I had a feeling that he wouldn’t tell me about his dreams anymore, that he would keep them hidden from me. I knew that the sympathy and the worry I felt for him were etched on my features, and it probably wounded his pride to know that I felt that way.
“I don’t think you should go to Fiona Temple anymore,” I told him.
“She’s helping me,” he insisted. “We’ve almost made contact with Father, I can feel it.”
I shook my head, looking at him sadly. “She’s told you that she hasn’t been able to contact him, Jason.”
His face screwed up in a question, a look of anger that consumed his features.
“You spoke to her about me,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement.
“I had to,” I told him. “There is nothing she can do to help you. You have to let this go.”
Jason stood up abruptly, pacing forward like a desperate cat in a cage. He walked to the rose bushes and then back again on restless legs, rubbing over his face with his hands.
“I can’t let it go now,” he said. “I’m in too deep.”
“What does that mean?” I asked him. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched him pace, my body getting nervous just feeling the energy radiating off him.
“I’m close to finding out the answer,” he said. “In my dreams… Fiona Temple is the only one who can help me.”
“Fiona isn’t going to help you anymore,” I told him. He looked at me with his eyebrows raised.
“What are you talking about, Julian?” he asked.
“She’s agreed not to see you,” I said. I wanted to tell him the truth. I didn’t want him to see Fiona and think that she was rejecting him outright. I knew my brother would never hurt anybody, but with the state he was in, I thought that his actions might be enough to frighten or intimidate her. I felt like it was my duty to protect her from that.
“What?” Jason asked, stopping in his tracks. “You went behind my back and asked her not to see me?”
“I had to,” I told him. “Jason—“
“Do I need to remind you that I am your lord, Julian?” he asked, his chin held high. He looked down his nose at me, and I stared at him with a cool anger.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” I said, putting poison into the last two words. “But someone had to stop this.”
He gave me one last sharp look that was full of something that looked like hatred. It stung me and caused a pain in my chest that was almost too much to bear. Then he stalked off without saying anything further, leaving me on the bench in the garden. I spent a long time sitting there, wondering what I should do about my brother. It was true that somebody had to stop him, and I was the most likely person to be able to do so. I didn’t know what to do, other than what I had already done. I only hoped that stopping the services between Fiona and my brother would lead to him eventually calming down about the whole situation.
I didn’t see Jason for the rest of the day, nor was he present at dinner. I went to his office after eating and knocked on the door, seeing the light from the fire outside. But he didn’t call out for me to enter and when I tried the door, it was locked. I shook my head and went to my room, climbing into bed and falling asleep quickly with images of Fiona in my mind.
I knew something was wrong the moment I woke up. The sound at my door was a pounding, loud and urgent.
“My lord, you must wake up,” came Smith’s voice on the other side of the door.
“I’m coming,” I called, slipping into trousers. I threw the door open to see my valet on the other side, a grim look on his face. I instantly remembered the night he had told me that my father had passed away, the night that seemed to have changed our lives in just a few hours. “What is it?”
“The inspector is here to see you,” Smith said in a hushed voice. “Says it’s urgent.”
I felt something flip in the pit of my stomach, a panic that I couldn’t control. I grabbed a robe from my room and wrapped it around me, then went downstairs to meet the inspector in the foyer.
“What can I do for you?” I asked him, wrapping my arms around myself. It was cold in the room, the fire having burned out long ago.
“Your brother is dead,” said the man, a serious look on his face. “His body was found just two hours ago near the city.”
I stood there, unblinking, not speaking as his words sank in.
“How?” I asked, my throat dry.
“He was stabbed several times, my lord,” said the inspector. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
I swallowed, a lump welling up in my throat. I sat down in a chair, feeling almost dizzy with grief and confusion.
“I see,” I said. “Do you know anything about—about who might have done it?”
The inspector shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “But we’ve already started investigating. You can be sure that we’ll find the man who did this.”
“Ok,” I said. It was all I could say. “Thank you for coming here in the middle of the night.”
The man nodded, looking away from my face. I knew that my expression was filled with emotion. It was threatening to overwhelm me.
“I’ll let you go to sleep, my lord,” he said, giving me a small bow. “I’ll have to question you tomorrow.”
I nodded. “Thank you,” I said again, as I stood up and watched him leave. I leaned back against the wall, using it to hold up my body. I pinched the bridge of my nose with my finger, closing my eyes and pushing the emotions back down. My brother, the last of my family, was dead. He’d been murdered in the city.
I sank down the wall, sitting on the floor and putting my head in my hands. I sat there for a long moment as grief took over my body, and did not move until Smith came to check on me an hour later. Then I went to bed, consumed with exhaustion, and fell back asleep, trying not to think of my brother.
Chapter 10: Fiona
I woke up the next morning with Julian still on my mind, having dreamt of him in a passionate way that made me blush just thinking about it. The whole thing had felt so real—the way he’d touched me, kissed me with such fervor. I could almost feel his touch outside of my dream, even as I went about getting ready to start the day. I brought up water for a bath and soaked in the hot pool before climbing out and dressing in a simple shift. I would go to town today to get some necessities but wouldn’t be seeing any clients; I didn’t have to dress in a way that was performative as I usually did.
I grabbed my bag and began to walk down the block. I lived only two miles from the center of town where I needed to do my shopping. I noticed as I walked that there were people out everywhere, even on parts of the streets that weren’t usually gathering places for the public. Everybody I saw seemed to be leaning together, talking in hushed voices that made me nervous. I kept walking, keeping my eyes open and looking around me. The whole town had a hushed, quiet feel to it, almost as if a blanket had been spread over it, muffling and muting the sounds. Something was wrong, I could feel it. I didn’t even make it to town before my curiosity got the better of me. I stopped in front of the stoop of two women who were standing close together, speaking quietly to one another with grave faces.
“Excuse me?” I asked, approaching their stoop. “Has something happened?”
“Where have you been, girl?” asked one of the women, crossing her arms over her chest. She was tall and thin as a reed, harsh-looking and unfriendly. “Lord Castellano is dead. Murdered.”
“Julian?” I asked. It was the first word from my lips. I felt a fear pierce my heart that I didn’t recognize, o
ne that was mingled with grief for a man I barely knew.
“Not the brother,” said the woman. “The lord himself. Jason.”
I put my hand over my mouth, my eyes widening in shock. It felt like my heart stopped for a moment, like my whole body froze.
“What?” I asked numbly. “When? Where?”
“Right about here,” the woman said, pointing down an alley across the street. “About a block away.”
I swallowed hard, blinking at the women in disbelief. I was only a half a mile from my house. The night before, Jason had been there. We’d done a séance that I couldn’t seem to remember—now that I was thinking about it, the whole night seemed to be a blank for me. I couldn’t remember what had happened after Jason had shown up at my door. I had tried to turn him away, but he had insisted that he just needed one more time to try to contact his father. He’d looked so desperate, so haunted that I couldn’t tell him no. After that, I didn’t remember anything, and now the man was dead.
