The Dark Matters Quartet

by Claire Robyns

“Thank you, Brinn,” she said with a polite smile. Goodness, Lady Perth sounded like someone’s grandmother. She glanced to the side, drawing his attention to Ana. “Lord Perth informed me Ana will be the first celludrone in the household. I trust you’ll make her feel welcome.”

  The man’s eyes bulged as he gave another bow to Ana. “With pleasure. We all will. Mrs. Jenkins’ been mighty curious about Lord and Lady Gratham’s celludrone but we never thought we’d see the day we had one at Lark House.”

  Ana looked at him blankly, saying nothing.

  “We’ll have two in residence for the immediate future,” Kelan said with a nod at Greyston. “Lord Adair’s man, Neco. You’ll find him at the baggage car. A large man, you’ll know when you see him. We’ll settle ourselves in,” he added, leaving Brinn to issue instructions to the footman he’d brought with him.

  Greyston took one look at the motto scripted beneath the eagle—Per mare, per terras—and interpreted in a drawl, “By sea, by land.” He raised a brow at Kelan. “I suppose we should be grateful the McAllisters left the airways for someone else to conquer. Oh, wait, you control the Aether too, don’t you?”

  Kelan made no comment as they bundled inside the carriage, Lily and Ana on one bench and the two men opposite.

  “I’ll take you directly home and return for the luggage,” Brinn informed them, having returned to stand ready to close the door.

  “Excellent,” Kelan said. Once they were on the road, he turned to Greyston. “This will be an interesting test, to see how well Neco fares with the footman.”

  Apparently, while his Cragloden staff were accustomed to his eccentricities, Kelan kept his extracurricular activities on a low key in London. He’d spent a fair portion of their journey laying down what Greyston had termed their “rules of engagement with London society” and that included Ana and Neco masquerading as average celludrones.

  “Neco will do fine,” Greyston said. “Ana has been counselling him on how to be an empty vessel.”

  Lily gave him a hard look. “There’s no call to be rude about Ana.”

  “The truth isn’t offensive,” Ana said. “It is simply the truth.”

  “I wasn’t being rude to you,” Greyston told her, folding his arms as he settled deeper into his seat. “I was being rude about the kind of world that requires you and Neco to act like teapots.”

  “I don’t enjoy the subterfuge,” Kelan said, “but no questions is a hell of a lot more efficient than fielding awkward ones.”

  “Ah, a McAllister pearl of wisdom,” Greyston threw back. “I should be writing these down.”

  Lily had had just about enough of his blistering mood. “What on earth is the matter with you today?”

  “I’d say Greyston’s discovering that making a decision is easier than living with it,” Kelan said.

  Greyston grunted, casting his gaze outside the window.

  It wasn’t difficult to grasp the context. Did Greyston really regret letting her believe they couldn’t be together? Pushing her away? Lily’s gaze went to the profile of his rigid jaw and lingered. Greyston was…Greyston.

  There’d always be a place in her heart, in her life, for him. She couldn’t help it, couldn’t hate him, couldn’t blame him.

  They’d shared a kiss two months ago, a single moment of bliss and then he’d left. Perhaps there was nothing to forgive. He’d never declared any intentions for her, never led her down a path.

  Looking at him now, recalling the feel of his lips moving over hers, of the warmth beating in her chest when he’d wrapped his arms around her, she was surprised—no, shocked—to admit she couldn’t forget.

  He’d stood there, silent and indifferent, and watched while she married another man. Barely even that. Actually, he’d been more interested in that Aether message. So no, maybe there wasn’t anything to forgive, but there was no excuse, no reason on earth, that could persuade her to forget.

  The carriage pulled up in Montpelier Square just off Knightsbridge Road, one of the most fashionable addresses in London. Lark House was set amongst a row of beautiful stock brick and stucco townhouses that were as imposing as they were charming.

  They’d only just alighted, hadn’t even reached the gate, when Evelyn’s voice hailed her. “Lily, darling, you’re here.”

  Lily swung about. “My goodness, Evie, were you hiding behind the hedge?”

  “Now why would I do that when there’s a lovely bench in the square park,” Evelyn declared. “I brought a picnic hamper, but it appears your train was bang on time.”

  She turned her smile on Kelan and, even though she was fully aware of the circumstances of their marriage, silly details had never put Evelyn off before. “I believe congratulations are in order, you wicked man. Stealing Lily from under all our noses.”

  Lily groaned, but before she could protest, Evelyn had moved onto Greyston.

  “Grey, how perfectly thrilling to see you again.” Her voice dropped to a sweetly, softly spoken threat. “I have words for you, many, many words. Unfortunately, they’ll have to wait.”

  “Thank God for small mercies.” Greyston’s grin came out. “You look well, Evelyn.”

  “I am, now that you’ve returned Lily to me.” She slipped her arm in Lily’s and looked at Kelan. “I wouldn’t normally impose, but I haven’t seen my friend in months. So, am I invited in for early morning tea or do I drag Lily home with me?”

  “How could I turn away such a charming request?” Kelan chuckled, then his eyes met Lily’s. “But since this is your home too, now, your friends don’t need to wrangle an invitation from me.”

  “I’ve never wrangled in my life,” Evelyn chirped, tugging Lily through the gate and along the gravel path.

  “Tell me to stop if I’m overwhelming you,” she murmured for only Lily to hear, “but those men have had you to themselves far too long. You look positively drained and in dire need of some female cheer.”

  Lily pulled her gaze from the four storeys of recessed sash windows and cast iron balconies, from the home that certainly didn’t feel like hers, and smiled. “You should have seen us all before you arrived, Evie. You’ve single-handedly managed to cheer up the sorriest lot of travellers this side of the century.”

  “Why the gloom?”

  Before Lily could reply, the front door opened to a man who had to be at least six foot five, tailored in black and trimmed in starched white.

  Kelan caught up, inserting himself between them. “I need Lily for a moment, then she’s all yours,” he said to Evelyn.

  “I trust you’re not going to carry me over the threshold,” Lily scoffed as he marched her up the porch steps ahead of the others.

  “Now that you mention it, that would be a convincing display of affection.”

  “Kelan,” she warned beneath her breath.

  Amusement warmed the blue in his eyes, but his hand merely came down on the small of her back, propelling her forward. The entranceway of Lark House was a wide, long hall and the staff lined the walls, Mrs. Jenkins and the maids on one side and Mr. Hamilton with six footmen in tow on the other. They dipped and bowed as Kelan introduced her to the housekeeper and butler by name, and then all eyes turned on her with an expectant hush.

  A hot blush crept up Lily’s throat. She’d been raised to run a household, although perhaps not one so grand as this. But that wasn’t the problem. She was an impostor. She had no right to stand at the head of this household and address the staff.

  Her gaze flickered to Kelan, her husband and yet not, and then she flashed a nervous glance over her shoulder.

  Evelyn’s smile was wide, touched with mischief and more incorrigible than encouraging. Ana stood placidly, her hands folded neatly in front of her, staring at nothing in particular. Greyston was propped against the porch railing, one hand shoved into his trouser pockets and the other curled over the knob of his cane. His grin had a mocking edge that didn’t quite translate into the serious, steady gaze that held hers.

  The hand at her ba
ck applied pressure. “My wife is—”

  “—absolutely delighted at this gracious welcome.” Lily turned forward, sweeping a look across the hallway.

  Aunt Beatrice, of all people, had come to the rescue in the form of her tiresome mantra. Start as you mean to end. She’d bled into the background far too long. Allowing Kelan to step in now, to take charge as she faltered, would be the start of an intolerable pattern. It was enough of an irritation that he’d determined marriage was her only solution, that he’d insisted she needed a man by her side at all times for protection. What irritated her more…he was right.

  Start as you mean to end.

  She’d made some little starts over the last few months. Accepting her place in this marriage was yet another. All were just the deceptive tip of a massive iceberg, but it was a start.

  Lily picked out individual faces, connecting with a smile and a slight nod as she completed her address and dismissed the staff to their various duties. Kelan took Greyston in hand and Ana was taken upstairs to acquaint herself with the master suite of rooms.

  At last, Lily and Evelyn found themselves alone in a well-appointed parlour with the promise of refreshments.

  “I have so much to tell you,” Lily said as they settled in a pair of wingback chairs arranged before the bay window.

  “And I, you,” Evelyn declared. “Let’s begin with the most important. You and Kelan! How on earth did that happen?”

  “That isn’t the most important—”

  “But it is the most delicious.” Evelyn leaned an elbow on the small table, resting her chin on her fist. “From one Aether Message to the next, your groom went from Greyston to Kelan.”

  “We hadn’t really made a firm decision,” hedged Lily.

  “Flottersnip!”

  Lily took a deep breath and waited.

  “Well?” pressed Evelyn.

  “Will you allow me to finish a sentence?”

  “You’re stalling.”

  Lily rolled her eyes. “Fine, if you want to talk about my marriage, let’s talk about the why and wherefore. I wasn’t able to mention anything about demons over the Aether, but I had to—”

  “The demons can wait.”

  “Evie!”

  Evelyn’s fist slipped from her chin to land on the table.

  “I’m not an idiot, Lily,” she said gently. “I realise there’s trouble stirring, else you wouldn’t have resorted to such drastic measures. But quite honestly, you look as if you’ve lived and breathed nothing but demons since I last saw you and if that didn’t kill you, a short break from the topic certainly won’t.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Nothing worthwhile is.” Her faded smile restored in typical Evelyn fashion. “I promise we’ll return to those pesky demons as soon as our tea arrives.”

  “Pesky demons?” Lily’s lips quivered on a suppressed giggle.

  “Personally, I prefer to think of them as nasty buggers, but a lady’s mouth cannot form such foul letters, wouldn’t you know? Besides, I’ve already had one lecture too many today.”

  “Devon?”

  Evelyn waved the query aside. “We were talking about your husband and what made you choose Kelan.”

  “Kelan chose me,” Lily blurted before she even realised how true that was.

  She hadn’t for one moment believed Greyston hadn’t known the rune tattoo would effectively mask his blood when he’d let her stand there in the library, making decisions based on their combined blood being a red flag to demons.

  She kept seeing Kelan, too, inclining his head at Greyston, asking if he had any new information to add insight. And Greyston shaking his head.

  I can’t think of anything.

  Nothing whatsoever?

  But, of course, Kelan had also known all along. By keeping silent, he’d chosen her. And even though there’d likely be nothing to recommend in his reasons for doing so, fact was fact.

  “Kelan chose me and Greyston didn’t.” Lily grimaced at her friend. “That’s all there is to it.”

  “Are you sure Grey didn’t?”

  “Quite,” Lily said lightly. “Not that any of that matters, since this marriage is a temporary farce and my husband isn’t really my anything at all.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Evelyn winked at her. “Granted, Kelan isn’t as obviously handsome as Greyston, but he is pure, raw, dark power. There’s something remarkably attractive about power and, as his wife, there’s no harm in exploring those rock-hard depths if you feel so compelled.”

  “Which I don’t,” Lily said firmly.

  She knew more than she’d ever wanted to about that potent power and the unwelcome tug of that dark attraction.

  “I do, however, think we’ve explored my marriage ad nauseam. Now, are you and Devon quarrelling again?” Lily’s next thought sank to the bottom of her stomach. “You haven’t taken up risqué sports again, have you?”

  “I swapped that out for frisky sports.” Evelyn’s voice tinkled with laughter. “I’m pregnant.”

  Stunned, Lily took a moment to comprehend the mix of joy and tears piling inside her throat. “That’s wonderful news, Evie. Congratulations.” She reached across the table to take Evelyn’s hands in hers. “You’re going to be such a magnificent mother.”

  “It’s still early days. I was waiting for the eight week mark before telling anyone but, well, you’re here…”

  “Does Devon know?”

  “That’s where I went wrong,” Evelyn said on a dramatic sigh. “He should have been the last one I told, not the first. The silly man will barely allow me out of bed in the morning. But don’t worry,” she added as Lily’s brow wrinkled. “We’re not quarrelling. He’s laying down his laws and I’m ignoring them.”

  Lily was not reassured. “That’s precisely how the trouble started last time.”

  “Do you know, he wants to send me down to Surrey for the duration of my confinement.” Evelyn snorted, pulling her hands from Lily’s to fold her arms. “What the devil goes on in that man’s mind? He’s living in the dark ages, I’ll tell you that.”

  “Actually…” Lily put on her most convincing smile. “Surrey sounds like a marvellous idea. All that fresh air and relaxation will be wondrously beneficial for your babe.”

  “I’m not going to rot in the countryside and I’m certainly not going to live away from Devon for the next seven months.”

  “I thought you were angry with him,” Lily pointed out, not proud of herself for such underhand tactics, but suddenly confounded at this latest quandary.

  Revealing anything about the demon would place unmentionable stress on Evelyn and, in her condition, that wouldn’t do. Not at all. Sending Evelyn and her unborn babe as far away from London and the demon as possible seemed liked a superb solution.

  “Anger passes,” Evelyn said. “Love doesn’t.”

  “I’m not suggesting you fall out of love with your husband,” Lily groused.

  “What are you saying?”

  Lily looked into those sharp, green eyes, and knew her friend had seen straight through her. Lily didn’t believe, any more than Evelyn, that a woman should be wrapped in cotton wool and stuffed in the countryside just because she was with child.

  “The last time you and Devon were at odds,” Lily said lamely, “the consequences were horrendous.”

  “Devon thought I’d died.” A shadow crossed Evelyn’s eyes. “That will never happen again, Lily. I’ll never run, never leave Devon behind again. Ever.”

  Lily heard her and a whole lot more. If Evelyn knew there was a demon in town, she wouldn’t run away to Surrey and leave Devon oblivious to the danger.

  And telling Devon about the demon wasn’t an option. He wouldn’t believe them. He’d never consign his wife to Bedlam, but he’d be beset with all the emotions that went with wondering if she belonged there.

  Lily hadn’t expected to convince Evelyn to leave London. Even without the additional strain of the babe, she was no longer so sure t
he knowledge wouldn’t do more harm than good. What had she been thinking?

  Mrs. Jenkins served the refreshments herself, a pot of tea and a plate of freshly baked scones with strawberry jam and clotted cream.

  As soon as the door closed behind her, Evelyn said, “A promise is a promise. What’s happening in the world of demons?”

  Lily stalled, pouring their tea as she chatted about the Glasgow demons and a brief version of how she’d focussed her visions into a demon glass. Even though Evelyn knew nothing about Lily’s demon blood, she’d known of the spells Lily had suffered from since her mother’s death, and of how Lily had recently determined those visions to be of demons.

  Every time she tried to tell Evelyn about Timothkin, however, the demon’s name choked on her tongue. She couldn’t tell and she couldn’t keep Evelyn ignorant of the danger.

  Evelyn glanced up from the scone she was spreading. “Is that why you’re here? Does Kelan think the current demon influx might migrate south?”

  “Kelan isn’t in the habit of sharing his theories with me,” Lily improvised honestly.

  “Then what?”

  “He wants to…um, investigate some of the—” She almost jumped up from her chair at the knock on the door.

  It was Mrs. Jenkins and she wasn’t alone. Lily heard the thundering boom echoing behind the poor housekeeper.

  “Is my niece inside that room? Move aside at once.”

  Mrs. Jenkins was bumped further inside rather inelegantly to admit the full width of Beatrice Ardington’s crinoline skirts.

  Evelyn made a painful sound.

  Lily froze.

  “My dearest, dearest child.” Aunt Beatrice held her arms out.

  It was an order rather than an invitation, but either way, that was all the enticement Lily needed to loosen her limbs and rush into her aunt’s embrace. She mumbled apologies into her aunt’s padded bodice and her aunt stroked her hair, shushing her.

  “There, there.” Aunt Beatrice set her aside at an arm’s length to look her over from head to toe. “All’s well that ends with an earl and isn’t that right, eh? Speaking of which, where is this husband of—” Her gaze went past Lily. “Evelyn, is that you?”