Fascinated (19 page)

“L
ord Carstairs may have forbidden apology from you, madame, but he will grant me the privilege of allowing me to make one to you.” Smith entered the room and bowed, formally but not smoothly. Edward stepped back, allowing Alicia to turn toward his captain. Now Alicia could see Smith held the carved chest that contained her brooch under his arm. A shudder ran up her spine.

“Forgive the brusqueness of an old man,” Captain Smith went on. “I am fighting a long campaign and I have little time to waste on formalities. I will be taking away your amulet for further study, and hope soon to be able to discover something of its origins and its exact effects. All that is learned will be communicated to you and Lord Carstairs. Until then, I want to assure you that Lord Carstairs stands fully ready to honor his engagement to you.”

“So he has told me,” said Alicia, even as apprehension stirred inside her.

“Yes. But, as it has been discovered you are a Sorceress, I must
also inform you, it is at this time advisable that you not enter into an actual marriage in the strictest sense.”

“I beg your pardon?” Alicia looked from Smith to Edward. But Edward was not looking at her. His gaze was fixed on the curtained window.

“A Sorceress, especially one in service to the Crown, has possibilities open to her beyond those commonly allowed a woman in ordinary society,” Smith told her. “It is better that you understand these before you become permanently bound in a legal ceremony.”

“We will be furnished with a license, Alicia,” said Edward quietly. “It will be enough to convince your family and other acquaintance that our marriage is genuine, but you will not be tied to me in any legal sense, should you decided to change your mind.”

Once again, he was holding something back. She was certain of it. Did he truly believe she would change her mind? Or did he want to remain free to change his?

“But…if I did change my mind, if I did leave, would we not be found out in any case?” Alicia could scarcely believe it was her voice asking the question.

“Not necessarily,” replied Smith. “Should that be your ultimate decision, we would review the options available at the time as to your place and station. However, plenty of couples in the ton live separately. One or the other of you could retire to the country, or go abroad, and not one eyebrow would be raised.”

“I see,” Alicia said, and she did. It made perfect sense. What made less sense was the uncomfortable twinge under her rib cage. She thought again on the concern written so plainly on Smith’s face when he had seen her in Edward’s arms. Perhaps this false
marriage had been his idea. Perhaps Smith thought he would save a trusted agent from further entanglement. After all, the appearance of marriage bound her almost as much as it freed her. If it was made known publicly that the marriage was false, she would be just as ruined.

Alicia frowned inwardly. She had to stop thinking such things, at least until she had either more proof or more experience. Otherwise, she would become one of those jealous creatures talked about in Verity’s novels.

“Very good.” Smith nodded. “The paper will be brought by courier this afternoon.” He faced Edward. “I recommend you both work on a story to tell Miss Hartwell’s—I should say Lady Carstairs’s—family. It has also been decided that Lord Carstairs will begin training you in the use of your powers, Lady Carstairs. He is a highly experienced Catalyst, and can teach you much of what you need to know. Once he has some measure of your strength and abilities, we will be able to assign you other tutors as necessary.”

“That seems a very good plan. Thank you.” Alicia was aware her voice sounded hollow, and that Edward was watching her closely. She wished he’d look at the curtain again. She was not certain she wanted to risk him comprehending the thoughts flashing through her at this moment, especially not in front of Captain Smith and Lady Jane.

Fortunately, Captain Smith seemed to be in earnest about being pressed for time. “Now, Lady Jane, we should leave, and let these two begin to settle themselves in their new circumstances.”

Lady Jane got to her feet, and she pressed Alicia’s hand. “We’ll talk again soon, I promise.” She gave Alicia a swift peck on the cheek. “You will remember what I told you?”

Alicia nodded. Smith said he would conduct Lady Jane home, and shut the door behind them, leaving Alicia facing Edward.

“What was it Lady Jane said?” Edward asked.

“She wanted to make sure I knew that I was not alone.”

“Good, I’m glad she did.” He paused and smiled. “Lady Carstairs.”

Humor sparked in his eyes, but Alicia found no such answering feeling inside her. “So, that’s it? The turn of a page and we are married?” The belligerence in her voice surprised her. After all they had done without benefit of a marriage license, why did this feel so painful? It was sensible to wait and, given the circumstances, artifice was required. Everything had changed. Not only did she not know who or what Edward truly was; she did not truly know herself. But still, with the revelation of the forged license being created, her fragile sense of security had broken in two.

“Alicia,” said Edward. “If all goes well, and your abilities are strong, you will be welcomed as one of the Service’s female agents. It is a position that allows you much more freedom and responsibility than you could ever have expected as an ordinary, married woman. You should take some time to learn just what that will mean.”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Edward. I’m not used to feeling so much; I find I’m having difficulty sorting through it all.” This was true, and she tried to make herself mean it. But at the same time, she found that instead of looking into his eyes, she watched her hands as they restlessly smoothed her skirts. “What do we do now?”

His smile was slow and warm, and despite Alicia’s apprehensions, an answering warmth welled up inside her. “First things first. I must recall my people. Perhaps such a tiny thing as yourself can be adequately sustained by toasted muffins and cold meats
but they will not do to preserve my manly physique.” She could not help but laugh a little at this, and Edward’s smile broadened. “You are not to worry about what the servants will think,” he added. “Their families have all been with mine for generations. They know almost as much about magic and the Service as I do, and they do not expect things to proceed conventionally in this house. Come to the library with me. I’ll write a message to my butler and find a porter to carry it.”

E
dward’s library was easily the most beautiful room of the house Alicia had seen so far. It was hushed here. Clearly, this was a haven for a man with a busy life. She sank up to the tops of her slippers in the Turkey carpets, and the graceful furniture seemed all designed for the comfort of the occupants, especially the armchair with its plump ottoman pulled up by the hearth. The ceiling above was painted with a classical Greek mural showing the muses dancing to Orpheus playing the lyre. But it was the books that took her breath away. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with shelves filled with more volumes than Alicia had ever seen in her life.

“Wonderful,” she breathed.

“Surely your uncles have a library?” Edward sat behind the broad mahogany desk and pulled out paper, pen and ink.

“Nothing like this.” She ran her fingers over the beautiful matching volumes of Diederot’s
Encyclopédie.
“They keep one because it is the expected thing. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen either of them set foot in it, let alone add a book to it. In fact…” She paused and frowned. “None of the family did.” Her aunts and female cousins used the parlor and sitting rooms for sewing, or
for their listless conversations. Aunt Mary shut herself up in her music room and played the pianoforte for hours on end. “Except Verity,” Alicia amended. “She was forever smuggling in novels to hide them under the cushions and in back of the sermons so we could read them together.”

“Are you fond of novels?” Edward asked, his face studiously grave as he mended the quill’s tip with a small knife.

“Mostly I was puzzled by them. I couldn’t understand much of what the authors were going on about.”

“Because you did not know what it is to be in love.”

“No.” Alicia looked away. She knew very well how his touch could unnerve her, but how had just the sight of his hands and fingers moving with such care and delicacy as they mended the pen, come to so thoroughly disorder her thoughts? “I should write Verity,” she said hastily. “To let her know…at least something of what’s happened. With your permission,” she added.

“There is no need to ask my permission for such a thing, Alicia. Besides, it’s an excellent idea. And I’ll write a formal letter to your uncles, letting them know you are safe with me and asking permission to call on them.”

She noted he did not say, “We are married,” and she was glad. The necessity, even the wisdom, of the pretense was plain. But if she stopped to think about it too much, that uncomfortable contraction underneath her ribs returned. She had known before that Edward had become engaged to her for purely practical reasons, and she had thought it the finest possible arrangement for her. But now that she had touched passion, touched need, she could not help but wonder if he felt anything for her beyond that famous lust the worldly man was said to feel.

But this was foolish. It would have been foolish even without
the added strangeness of the magic and her own enchantment. If she had learned anything from Verity’s novels, it was that the love of the heart and the physical act of passion were distinct things. At this point, she could not even be sure Edward would want to keep her in his house.

The constriction returned and Alicia sat down abruptly.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. A little indigestion, perhaps.”

“All the more reason for me to call back my people. My housekeeper, Mrs. Talbot, will be able to look after you until we arrange a lady’s maid, and her sister, Mrs. Graves, is my cook. She will say at once you are too pale and design the perfect menu to restore roses to your cheeks. Unless…” He paused.

“Unless?”

“I fancy I know a way to restore your color.” His gaze traveled down to her breasts, to her waist and ankles, and began a long, slow journey upward again. By the time he reached her face, Alicia knew she was blushing hotly. “But that will have to wait. We must both write our letters. Here.” He stood, taking the writing materials over to one of the library’s many small tables. “We will see about installing a proper desk for you soon.” He set a chair in place, and bowed, smiling to usher her into it.

“Thank you.” Alicia returned a smile as she sat, but she did not feel cheerful. She felt disastrously uncertain.
It is simply because the emotions are all so new and strange,
she told herself.
I will get used to this seesawing. It is no more than other people have lived with. I just need to accustom myself to it.

But when she looked over at Edward settling himself to his own work, she found she could not entirely believe that. So, she
faced the blank paper instead, dipped the quill in the ink and wrote,
Dear Verity
.

And found she had no idea at all what should come after that.

E
dward watched Alicia as she labored over the letter to her cousin. She frowned hard at the paper, as if willing it to present her the words she needed. For a moment, he thought to ask if she wanted help, but he decided to remain silent. It would be better to give her this little space so she could begin to adjust properly to her new way of being and feeling.

Alicia was not the only one with adjustments to make, either. Edward found himself wondering what was the proper form of address to a man when one had just abducted his niece. He blew out a sigh, took up his quill and set to work.

It took a tidy few minutes, but at last Carstairs felt he’d created an acceptable missive. As he melted the wax and pressed his ring into the seal, he glanced again at Alicia. She had evidently found her theme, and now wrote steadily, her manner composed and her frown replaced by an air of quiet concentration. The sight struck him. It was so everyday, and yet at the same time so perfect. Seeing her sleeping beside him had been just the same. It moved him, not to physical desire, but to the desire to preserve this simple moment of harmony with another person. No, not just another person. With this woman. With Alicia.

The intensity of that feeling jerked Carstairs to his feet.

“I’ll go find a porter,” he said as Alicia twisted around to stare at him. “When my people return, we can send the footman with the other letters.”

He took himself from the library without looking back. Once the door closed behind him, Edward paused, and laid his hand against the wall.

This was not right. He had never felt so much for a woman so suddenly. No. He had never felt so much for any woman, ever. It was beyond ridiculous. He knew nothing about her true mind or character, had shared no genuine intimacy with her. They had danced at their engagement ball. They had walked and talked, only a little. They had enjoyed some erotic play, but none of that was enough to cause so much feeling at so small a sight. Was it possible, after all these years, after all the hardening of his heart to duty, that he was falling in love with Alicia Hartwell?

But even as he thought this, Captain Smith’s soft, cool question came back to him with the force of a thunderclap.

What else needs to be considered, Edward?

Edward cursed. Then he gritted his teeth and stretched out his Catalyst’s senses. If enchantment had somehow slipped past his wards, he would be able to feel it. There would be a change in the tide of power around his house. But there was nothing. He felt the wards standing their quiet watch. He felt the undisturbed flow of energy within the house as calm and even as a sleeper’s breathing.

It should have reassured him, but Carstairs found himself more troubled than ever.

Get over it, man,
he instructed himself.
It was a fancy. It’s natural in a man your age left alone with a lovely woman in his house to think on family life. It will pass.