It was another misty, gray day, but she didn’t care, as she gathered her pelisse and straw bonnet from the foyer and slipped outside. She had dressed in a dark blue gown with small, embroidered flowers that opened to reveal the white petticoat beneath, one of the finest gowns she owned.
Marlene breathed deeply of the air, almost welcoming the continual present mist that seemed to surround Rosedale Heights like a ghostly apparition.
She walked among the grounds with a gentle stride, and then made her way to the copse of trees. She remembered what it had been like as a child, to embrace nature, before her illness had struck. She used to love to play hide-and-seek with one of her friends among the trunks. Unfortunately, their childish glee would always give them away.
She smiled now, thinking of those times as she glanced toward the thick clouds above. The impending rain threatened to unleash its fury upon her, but she refused to be cowed. If the heavens released their wrath, she would dance in the midst of it and revel in doing so.
She laughed and circled one tree and then another. In that moment, she was free, uninhibited by any responsibilities, away from the prying eyes of the servants. Free of worry—of restraint.
The mist started to grow thicker, but it didn’t bother her. Let the fog come and envelope her. She wasn’t afraid of the secrets it might harbor. She wished to embrace them. As the apparition crawled up her body and cloaked her in a white sheet, she closed her eyes in abandon. She raised her arms above her head and sighed as the mist twirled about her, as if it was dancing with her, gyrating to an age old rhythm.
Marlene was lost to the temptation. She found herself pressed against a tree as her breath became thick and heavy with desire. She grasped her skirts, holding them in her fists as she closed her eyes and allowed the sensation of lust to pour through her.
She gasped when the fog made her thighs tingle. She pressed her legs together, but the ache only grew. She put her hands behind her, clutching the tree as her hips moved of their own accord. Her pulse started to race, her breathing erratic.
Her nipples tightened to hard points beneath her bodice, and she yearned to tear her clothes off, to lie naked in the grass among the fog, until the rain mixed with the perspiration on her skin. Until she became one with her phantom lover.
Slowly, reality started to intrude. “No,” she whispered into the density. It was so thick now that she could hardly see for the white cloud in front of her.
Marlene tried to get away from the mist, but it seemed to drag her down deeper into the abyss. She started to panic, waving her arms in front of her. “No! Stop this!”
The sound of distant laughter met her ears, and she froze. Suddenly, a face appeared through the mist, the grin one of malicious evil.
She screamed.
The feel of a strong hand clamped around her wrist, pulling her away from the dense fog and toward the security of the manor.
Tears stung her eyes, but they refused to fall. Trembling, she was shoved down into a chair in the master’s study and soon afterward, a glass was pressed into her hand. She heard the sound of a distant voice instruct her to drink. Marlene did so, taking a large gulp of the brandy. With the force of a hundred stinging bees, it took her breath, but also restored some of her lost equilibrium.
Once she had recovered enough of her senses to glance up, she saw the grim look on Alaric’s face as he stared down at her. His hands were set on his narrow hips, his jacket discarded, and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. She returned her gaze to the brown liquid in the glass and closed her eyes.
Alaric shoved a hand through his hair as he began to pace his study. He didn’t know what to say at this point. It was obvious Hector was becoming shameful in his pursuit, going so far as to use seduction to gain her notice.
He paused and glared at her bent head. “I told you not to leave the manor.”
“I didn’t think that extended to the grounds.”
He had to struggle to keep his temper in check. It wasn’t directed at her, but Hector for daring to cower from Alaric in the village, just so he could approach Marlene without any hindrance.
“I’m sorry.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You are not to blame.”
She snorted and drained the last of the drink in her glass before she set it aside and looked up at him. “Am I not?” she countered bitterly. “I can’t say I didn’t enjoy what happened out there, because it would be a lie.”
Alaric’s fists curved at his sides. “He’s studying your weaknesses.”
“Then I suppose he uncovered one of them.” She got up from the chair and moved to the other side of the room. With her back to him, she spoke softly, but he heard her clearly. “I didn’t think I was such a wanton. I’m starting to believe I’m no better than a London whore.”
He reached her in a handful of steps and spun her around to face him. Her eyes were swimming with moisture, evidence of her inner shame and guilt. “You are no such thing,” he stated firmly. “Hector has a talent when it comes to persuasion. It can be difficult to resist such power.” He touched her lower lip with his thumb. “But I won’t let him have you. You’re mine, Marlene. Last night should have shown you that.”
A sob escaped her. “What if he finds a way to convince me to give in to him fully?”
A strong, protective instinct flared up within Alaric. It had been years since the sensation of such magic had fluttered through his veins, but it did so now. It was the call of his bloodline, centuries of Visigoths pouring through his body and releasing its wrath upon those who would wish to betray him.
The entire room started to vibrate with intensity, the pages of the books on the shelves around them fluttering. The inkwell on his desk bubbled and dripped onto a blank sheet of vellum. When he spoke, his voice was hollow, his eyes filling with a determination that must have flowed into her, because her eyes widened, her mouth gaping slightly. “He shall not possess you.”
Caught in the grip of his ancestry, Alaric was glad when she reached out a steady hand and laid it upon his jaw. Without a word, she leaned up and placed her mouth gently against his. Although the rage continued all around them, it started to slowly subside as his passions were focused on her instead.
