“Thank you,” she murmured, and he offered a polite bow as he walked away.
With a deep breath, Marlene raised her hand to knock, but it opened before she had the chance. She glanced inside to see Lady Catharine sitting at her dressing table in a blood red night dress and robe. “I thought you might drop by this morning. Do come in.”
As Marlene entered, the wooden door shut behind her. She tried not to tell herself that it was a bad omen, but then, she wasn’t used to doors shutting of their own accord. “Then you know why I’ve come.”
“I do.” Catharine glanced at her and gave a roll of her dark eyes. “Sir Gothry has never been very adept at hiding his true emotions, and those he harbors for you run deeply. He’s not sure how to express himself.”
Marlene snorted. “At times, I feel the same.” She took the key out of her pocket and held it up between them. “Although I would like to discuss your High Priest, I was wondering if you might help to solve a mystery.”
Lady Catharine eyed the piece of metal with a narrowed gaze. She rose from her chair and glided, rather than actually walked, toward Marlene. She removed the key from her grasp and inspected it carefully. “Very intriguing. I have never seen anything like it.” She leaned forward and inhaled sharply. “There is great magic at work here, but I cannot decide if it is white or black.”
“I searched for it in a tome that Alaric had, but there was nothing to compare with it,” Marlene offered.
Lady Catharine returned the item. “Where did you acquire it?”
“In the orangery. I found a note telling me that ‘The key is beneath the lemon tree.’”
“Very cryptic,” her companion murmured. She closed her eyes and held out a hand, where a book abruptly appeared out of thin air. “This is my personal Book of Shadows,” she explained, as she regarded Marlene once more. “It is where I hold my innermost thoughts and desires. I wondered if I might have come across something similar in my travels abroad.”
Her eyes suddenly turned completely white as she kept the tome balanced in her palm. With her other hand, she opened the cover and the pages flipped as if a wind was propelling them onward. Marlene watched in fascination as it stopped on a page about halfway through the book.
In an oddly strange voice that was not the usual, sultry murmur that Lady Catharine generally empowered, she said, “The key is omnipotent, all powerful. It has the ability to destroy, and bring chaos upon those who wish harm.”
With another gust of wind that nearly knocked Lady Catharine off her feet, the book disappeared as she struggled to regain her balance. Her eyes had returned to their natural darkness, but her face had paled, as true fear was reflected upon her face. She actually took a step backward. “That is no ordinary key.”
Marlene wrapped her hand around it, removing it from her sight, since it seemed to upset her. “What is it?” she demanded. “What did you see?”
“We need to speak with Alaric at once.”
With that, she waved a hand and was instantly dressed in her usual, black garb. She brushed past Marlene and headed down the hall. Catharine was halfway down the north wing before Marlene caught up to her purposeful stride.
It had been years since Alaric had hosted any sort of society function. He had nearly forgotten all the work it took to hire additional staff, not to mention acquiring the rest of the required items. Candles, wine, décor to make it seem appealing—the list was endless.
Thankfully, he had his aunt by his side to assist with the planning, or he most assuredly would go quite mad in trying to put something this extravagant together in two days’ time. There was a reason he had eschewed London, and it wasn’t just because he was a witch. He quite loathed such events.
He was instructing the latest string of footmen where to put additional chairs for seating in the ballroom when Lady Catharine rushed up to him. “I need to speak with you on a matter of the utmost urgency.”
He frowned, having heard that breathless tone from her only once before—when Hector had beheaded her beloved Angela at the Cyprian’s ball.
“Of course,” he noted firmly. He looked to his aunt with a nod that she intercepted, because she immediately took over, sliding effortlessly into the role of hostess.
“I do hope this isn’t about Marlene,” he noted, as he walked out of the ballroom, only to stop short upon seeing the very object of his desires standing to the side and waiting for them.
Lady Catharine glanced between them. “Not as you might think,” she returned. “But she is highly involved with this.”
Alaric was starting to grow more than a bit concerned at this point. He led them to his study where he shut the door and sealed it with a spell of silence so that no one would be able to hear their conversation outside of the three people in that room. He walked over to his desk and leaned against it; arms crossed. “Pray tell, what is so imperative?”
“It’s about the key that Marlene holds. The one she found beneath the lemon tree.” Lady Catharine began to pace the room, while Marlene sank down into a nearby chair and waited. It was obvious by her expression that she didn’t know what had upset the other woman.
“Go on,” he instructed.
Lady Catharine paused and exhaled in a rush. “That key opens the gates of hell.”
Silence.
“Don’t be absurd,” Alaric muttered. “It may be magical, but you have no proof of such a nonsensical claim.”
“Actually, I do,” she replied. “Because the same person who showed Marlene the way to the key in the orangery is the very same one who spoke through me, the one who has been guiding her all this time.”
