After washing every inch of skin that was exposed, she turned to find a silver hairbrush lying in wait on the carved, oak dressing table, along with a simple, blue ribbon. She quickly worked out all the snarls and tangles in her long, dark tresses, before carefully pulling it back and tying it at her nape.
Only then did Cosette catch sight of her reflection in the mirror. She winced as she touched the purple discoloration on her cheek where she’d been struck. Her hands clenched into fists. She was tired of being the victim in this life. But no longer. The duke thought he might intimidate her to remain at Shadowlawn, but he would find out that she was not about to compromise her principles to be any man’s mistress.
Cosette grabbed her shabby boots and silently padded over to the door in her bare feet, in order to remain as silent as possible. She opened her bedchamber door to reveal a massive hallway that went in three different directions. Doors lined two sides of the mahogany corridors, while the one to her left ended just short of a carved banister, the newel post in the shape of a massive gargoyle. She couldn’t help but tremble at the sight. Even from this distance, it appeared to be looking directly at her.
Cosette took a deep breath and walked forward, careful to keep her distance from the statue. The banister beneath her hand was smooth and gleamed with fresh polish, the scent of beeswax tickling her nose. But strangely enough, there wasn’t a single servant to be found. She had thought, that with a manor this size, there would be several milling about at this time of the day, already attending to their duties. But if there was one thing she knew about the duke, he was rather arbitrary, so the workings of his household would likely be just as bizarre.
As Cosette made her way downstairs, she couldn’t help but admire the grandeur around her. She’d never stepped foot in a manor of this magnitude before, and she had to admit that Shadowlawn was truly impressive, if not a bit Gothic in nature.
It was a perfect reflection of the man who resided here.
She wasn’t sure if the British museum could claim such a collection of priceless paintings on their walls, or ancient artifacts spread throughout the interior. Most of the peculiar pieces she noticed depicted Greek mythology or ancient folklore that bordered on the gruesome. Her steps slowed in front of a portrait of a large wolfhound sinking its teeth into a red stag, the animal’s face twisted in fear and pain. She gave a shiver as she turned away from the scene, rubbing her arms to retain some of the warmth she’d lost.
A clock chimed somewhere in the stately manor when she reached the foyer, but otherwise, the house was eerily still. Cosette glanced at the door. A few more steps and freedom was within her reach, but something told her she wouldn’t make it far. Every nerve ending was stretched with awareness, as if she was being watched. As if the manor breathed with a life all its own, a slave to its master—and what she would become if she didn’t escape.
As she reached for the handle, a solitary light glowed from a nearby room. She bit her lip. She knew she shouldn’t allow the distraction to take hold, but something compelled her to look behind her. She watched in fascination as a door to her right opened slightly to reveal a massive library, if such a simple moniker could even be given to such a colossal space.
Cosette walked to the doorway where books lined countless shelves around her. From floor to ceiling, it was a marvel to behold. She couldn’t help but breathe in the musty smell of leather and aged paper; the conflicting scents drifting pleasantly through her nostrils. As if pulled forward by some unseen force, Cosette glided forward and skimmed her fingertips over the various titles, lightly touching the spines of every single volume she could reach. Her mind was buzzing with the excitement of so many classic tomes, just waiting to be explored again. How her palms itched to hold every single title and fill her mind until it was overflowing with philosophy and economics.
It wasn’t until her gaze fell on one book in particular did she actually pause, that earlier awareness reaching out and trailing along her spine like a lover’s caress. It was as if she’d been led through this vast library to stop at this one section.
Incredible . . .
Cosette reached out a shaking hand and slid the novel free.‘Treatise on Apparitions of spirits and on Vampires and Revenants or The Phantom World’by Dom Augustine Calmet, dated 1751. Cosette was familiar with the name. He was a Benedictine monk who had live in Lorraine, France at Senones Abbey. His belief in the supernatural was supported by Francois-Marie Arouet, a fellow philosopher and celebrated writer who was better known by his pseudonym, Voltaire. Together they concurred that the existence of something beyond our understanding of this earth did indeed subsist with the living.
Cosette had always had a long-time fascination with the strange and unusual, as her locket had always been a sort of enchantment, but she had been careful to conceal her interest, for many believed that such works were considered pagan in nature. Dante Alighieri’s infamous work, ‘Divine Comedy,’ was one such example. The narrative poem had been notorious during its initial publication, and was even contentious to this day, and Calmet was eagerly following in his steps. Even with the support of Voltaire, he had felt the backlash of the Catholic church. The Holy Roman Empress Consort, Marie Theresa, considered his ideals to be nothing short of satanic; the premise that bodies were exhumed for the sole purpose of a devilish creature to feed upon was unethical.
While Cosette had trouble believing in the idea that bloodthirsty creatures truly roamed the earth, she was confident that certain otherworldly presences, like ghosts, spirits, and even angels, did. For someone who suffered from headaches and strange blackouts, it was only natural that Cosette would be on an endless quest to learn the truth behind these sporadic episodes. Thus far, she had yet to come across any valid reason in any medical tome.
She glanced down at the book in her hand. Perhaps the answer to her strange malady had another cause, one that might be found between these pages.
“You’re welcome to read anything in my library.”
Cosette started at the deep sound of the duke’s voice, the book falling to the floor with a dull thud.
“But, alas, it cannot leave this house.”
Before Cosette had time to recover, Blackburn appeared beside her. He was dressed more casually this morning, but he still appeared every bit a gentleman of his station in a pair of black trousers and shining boots. He had eschewed a jacket, his black cambric shirt covered by a dark burgundy vest.
He wasn’t wearing a cravat.
Instantly, her gaze dipped to the smooth skin on display at the base of his throat. If she closed her eyes, she might be able to smell his cologne water. She started to sway forward just as he bent down and picked up Calmet’s novel. She blinked several times to gain her bearings, as he lifted a casual brow at the title.
“Do you have an interest in the paranormal, Miss du Bouir?” he said sardonically, as he handed the book to her. His dark eyes glimmered with an almost unholy light as he regarded her, before it was swiftly banked.
Instead of answering, she posed a question of her own. “Don’t you believe that there is something out there beyond our understanding?”
Again, his eyes swirled with an inner tempest, like a storm upon the sea. “If you’re asking if I believe in fairy tales, then no, I do not.” He moved past her, the air behind him charged with electricity.
Cosette put the tome back in its place. Even though the duke wasn’t looking in her direction, she had the feeling that he was aware of her every movement. It was unnerving, and it caused her to blurt, “I’m leaving.”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible.” He didn’t even turn around to acknowledge her.
“You don’t understand,” she tried again. “It’s not your choice. I have a friend who will be concerned about me—”
He clasped his hands behind him, his entire stance composed. “I sent a missive to Mrs. Kingsbury at The Lion’s Share last night regarding your new situation.”
Cosette’s mouth fell open at his arrogance. She didn’t even want to know how he knew about Charlotte. “I must return.”
