It was foretold that the book had the power to grant the owner unlimited mastery of magic, including the ability to raise the ultimate lord of witches, the devil himself.
Alaric didn’t care to put such a theory to the test.
He frowned when he saw the image of Miss St. Clair in his mind’s eye. He opened his eyes and threw his shirt back on and left it hanging loose about his waist as he headed for the orangery, perplexed as to how she’d managed to get there. It would have been impossible if he didn’t know the workings of magic firsthand.
Rain was falling in earnest as he opened the door to the glass-enclosed structure. He searched out his quarry and found her on the floor, pale and trembling, as if she’d undergone a great shock. He walked over to her, water dripping from his hair, and knelt down at her side. He called her name, but she didn’t seem to acknowledge his presence. She was staring in front of her, as if looking at some monster only she could see.
When Alaric reached out and touched her arm, she let out a shrill cry and scuttled away from him. He considered putting her under another sleeping spell. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d done so, but this time he needed to know what had happened. He would have to employ the patience his aunt had suggested, or else he knew for certain the truth wouldn’t come easy.
He spoke gently to her. “You’re safe, Miss St. Clair.”
“Safe.” She uttered the word through wooden lips as if she wasn’t quite sure of the meaning any longer. Finally, her gaze lifted to meet his and his chest squeezed when he saw a single tear slide down her cheek. Every protective instinct rose within him, and he wanted to believe that she was innocent. But he had to prove it by hearing it from her own lips.
He extended his hand to her. “Come with me. I’ll take you someplace where we can talk in private.”
Marlene stared at his hand. It might as well have been a serpent, coiled and ready to strike. She screwed her eyes shut tightly and told herself that she could trust him. Sir Gothry wasn’t the enemy. He had always treated her kindly, even if he did appear somewhat distant and forbidding at times. However, those qualities didn’t mean he was someone to disdain.
Daring to offer a leap of faith, she put her hand in his. He pulled her to her feet, and she subconsciously wiped at her skirts to remove the dirt and debris. She certainly didn’t care if her gown was rumpled or torn. She just wanted to be free of whatever was haunting her.
Thunder abruptly cracked in the distance and caused the windows to rattle in their panes. She moved closer to Sir Gothry on instinct as a bolt of lightning lit up the interior with the power of daylight. But just as quickly as it had appeared, it dissipated.
He retained hold of her hand as he opened the door of the glass enclosure and hastened toward the house at a determined jog. Marlene easily kept pace with him as he headed for the closest entrance, the doors that led to his study. By the time they were safely inside the manor, they were both thoroughly soaked.
He didn’t allow them any time to drip on the floor, and she noted that he didn’t release her hand. He continued to pull her after him, down the hall and along a labyrinth of corridors that led to the north wing.
She said nothing, but her breath caught at being allowed entrée to his personal domain. She didn’t know why he’d brought her here when it was strictly forbidden at any other time, but since she’d been spying on him, perhaps he thought it best to return to where their encounter had begun. She wasn’t looking forward to the lecture to come, but she decided it was best they did it out of earshot of Mrs. Bates. She certainly didn’t need her disapproving stare on top of everything else.
As Sir Gothry led her along the dim hallways around them, shadows seemed to reach out toward her, nearly grasping her hemline as they passed. She yearned to close her eyes and shut them out, to pretend that they didn’t exist.
Instead, she concentrated on Sir Gothry. His hair had come loose from its queue and hung about his shoulders like glistening midnight. His damp shirt clung to his body and heightened his every movement—as well as the slight outline of the dark tattoo she’d glimpsed earlier on his naked back.
She shivered as they entered his private sitting room where a fire was roaring cheerfully. She wanted to collapse in front of it, but she didn’t dare move until he instructed her to do so.
“We need to get you out of those wet clothes before you catch your death.”
The blood receded from her face as she looked at him. “You can’t mean for me to disrobe? Here?” She glanced about them. “All of my clothes are in my room.”
“I will procure something for your use.” He pointed at a nearby chaise. “Put your gown and underthings there. I shall return momentarily.” His gaze flashed, “If you are not undressed when I return, I will have no choice but to do it for you.”
He stalked out of the room, presumably in the direction of his chamber.
It wasn’t until the door shut firmly, that she dared to move in front of the fire and start working on the fastenings of her clothes. Her fingers fumbled more than once as she struggled to remove her garments, but she finally accomplished the task.
Marlene was standing in her thin cotton chemise, the only thing that had not seemed to suffer from the downpour and become drenched through, her arms crossed over her breasts when Sir Gothry returned. He was dressed in a maroon velvet banyan robe. His feet were bare, and she had to assume that the rest of him was the same. The image of his naked body was more than she wished to think upon at the moment. It was still enough to make her face heat when he handed her a second banyan in a dark, smoky gray.
She accepted it wordlessly and quickly shoved her arms inside, wrapping the tie securely around her midsection. It felt heavenly, it was so warm, and if she didn’t mistake it, smelled slightly like the man standing before her. She thought it odd that she should already know what he smelled like, but it was calming—a fresh, earthy, woodsy scent.
She looked at him warily as he walked over and sat down on a settee across from the one that held her clothes. He waved a hand to the empty space next to him and she reluctantly moved over to sink down beside him. She kept her hands firmly in her lap, waiting for the eruption to come.
He was silent for a few moments, his face contemplative as he looked forward, and then he turned to her. “What is the real reason you came to Rosedale Heights?”
Marlene swallowed hard. “I already told you, I—”
He was already shaking his head. “I will give you one more chance to tell me the truth.” His blue eyes flashed fire. “Who sent you here?”
Alaric saw the fear behind her dark eyes. It was as palpable as the desire he’d felt coursing through his veins when he realized she was the one who had been watching him in his chamber. But to give in to temptation would be disastrous. Not only was she in his employ, but there was more to this woman than it appeared.
“I… I don’t understand—”
