Page 113 of His Wicked Charm

“She was talking about them earlier. In her fever. She was... She was raving about going to see her nurse.”

“Her nurse?”

“Yes, that’s when I realized she was out of her head. The woman died two years ago. Lilah was adamant about seeing her, and of course I told her Nanny was dead, but Lilah insisted she was not. I think she must have gone to find her.” Vesta clung to his arm as they scrambled down the path from the tor to the flatland below.

Vesta continued to describe her efforts to find Lilah, sending all the servants out to look for Lilah while she combed the house herself. Con did his best to ignore her, searching the landscape in front of him for the faint shimmer in the air that would indicate Lilah’s path. How could he not see it? Her passage had been so clear the other time. Perhaps it was the distraction of Vesta’s constant conversation. Worse, Vesta was slowing him down.

“Did you send word to Alex?” Con cut into her stream of talk.

“No. I sent some of the servants toward Carmoor. They’ll find her if she went that way. But she’s on the Levels. I can feel it.”

“You should go back,” Con told her. “Send a message to Alex.”

“No, dear boy, I must help you. You don’t know the area. The rhynes and embankments—it’s all so much the same. It’s easy to get lost. And when the evening fog sets in...”

“I’ll be fine. I have the lantern.” Con stopped and untwined her arm from his. “I need you to go back to the house. Someone should be there in case Lilah returns. Go,” he told her firmly. “It’s almost dark, and the fog is starting to creep in.”

“If you’re sure...”

Con turned and strode away before she could pursue the subject. But still he could not make out Lilah’s trail. The numerous short canals made it harder to keep on a course, cutting him off and forcing him to backtrack or wind around between them.

Dark fell quickly, and wisps of fog came slithering in, obscuring the landscape. He stopped to light the lantern. The more he walked, the more doubt gnawed at him. Had she really come this way? Perhaps the fog covered up the glimmer.

Something rustled behind him, and he whirled, peering into the dark. “Lilah? Hello? Lilah? Can you hear me?”

There was nothing but silence. He started on. The fog was growing thicker, covering the ground so that it seemed he was walking through snow. It would be easy to stumble into a rhyne. He could hear one now, but he was unsure of its location. His steps slowed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of motion, and he began to turn. A dark figure ran at him, swinging a thick branch. He froze in astonishment. “Vesta!”

The branch slammed into his temple, and he staggered backward, stunned. She swung again, knocking him into the water.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

LILAH’S HEAD ACHED. She was lost in a dull haze somewhere between sleep and consciousness, unable to open her eyes. She reached up to touch her head, and strangely her arms seemed stuck together.

“There, there.” Something wet and cool touched her forehead, then her cheek. “Time to wake up now.”

“Aunt Vesta,” she mumbled.

Memories trickled back in through haze. Aunt Vesta. The key. Her eyes flew open.

“There you are,” Aunt Vesta said and patted her cheek. “I feared I had struck you too hard. And I wasn’t sure about that dose of laudanum. I had to put you to sleep so I could prepare, but I thought I might have given you too much. You know I would never want to hurt you.”

Laudanum. More vague memories came to Lilah—someone holding her nose and pouring liquid into her mouth. The bitter taste was still on her tongue. Lilah raised her head, and the world tilted. She lay back down. Her hands, she realized, were tied. “Why?” The word came out in no more than a whisper.

“It isn’t as if I wanted to,” her aunt answered plaintively. “But I can’t let you close the Sanctuary. You must see that. It isn’t as if I was going to take all the energy. I was willing to share it with you. I even offered for the three of us to share it—Sabrina added a bit to the power, and she was always such a biddable girl. It would have worked out well. But you were so unreasonable.” She scowled. “I don’t know why you’ve always had to be so stubborn.”

Lilah’s head whirled. Where was Con? Wells. Yes, he’d gone to Wells. “Why—you didn’t have to give me laudanum.”

“But I did, child. I had to do everything on the spur of the moment. I couldn’t really plan because I had no idea when you would find the key. I was beginning to think you never would. I finally had to leave that silly letter for you to find—thank goodness you figured it out.”

“The letter—what? It was you?” Astonishment, mingled with anger, brought Lilah more fully awake. “You stole my letter?”

“It wasn’t stealing, dear. The man gave it to me. Really, I think it was very sloppy of him, handing it over to me just because I was your aunt. And telling me to give it to you—as if it were my job. It was his responsibility, but that’s just like a man. Even my brother, who was really a very nice man, took advantage of me. You can see that, can’t you? He shoved all the responsibility of raising you onto me so he could sit around mooning over his dead wife. It wasn’t fair at all.”

“But why didn’t you just give me the letter?”

“I couldn’t turn it over to you! You wouldn’t have believed it for a second. I knew what must be in the letter. I’d been searching and searching for a year for that blasted key and couldn’t find it. So I opened it—very carefully, you see, so I could give it to you if it wasn’t instructions about the Sanctuary. But all those terrible things Virgil said! I knew they weren’t true. Virgil was always the most pessimistic man. And he didn’t even say where he had put the key. It was the most nonsensical letter. But thank goodness I didn’t throw it away.”