Shadowbound (The Dark Arts Book 1) (39 page)

Ianthe curled into him. "It's not the same for a woman as it is for a man. It doesn't always happen for me."

"Especially when your daughter is missing."

"Especially then," she whispered. "That time on the piano... I felt so guilty. How could I possibly enjoy myself when she was out there alone? But I needed you so badly then, for I was so close to breaking."

They stared at each other, perfectly in tune with each other.

Ianthe swallowed. Intimacy still unnerved her a little. "When do you wish to get married?"

"Not yet. There are other considerations right now. Morgana is a threat, and she dared put her hands on Louisa once to get at you. I fear she will do it again." Hard lines bracketed Lucien's mouth; this was a man who would not be crossed. "I intend to make certain Louisa is never harmed again, even if I have to destroy that bitch myself."

"How do we find her?" Ianthe's voice was small in the dark. This was her fault, because she had not trusted Lucien to help her with Louisa.

"We begin here," Lucien replied, spreading her hair out across their pillow and stroking his hands through it. A casual gesture, but one not lost on her. It was intimate, this moment between them.

"Here?" He was distracting her. She couldn't quite fathom why they should start here.

"Someone left the letters on your bed," Lucien said. "Someone inside this house knows where Morgana is. We simply have to find out who."

A chill ran through her. She'd never thought to look for the traitor on the inside, because when she had no allies, she'd had no power. She had not dared, because one small misstep could have cost her Louisa. That was not the case now.

"But in the morning, Ianthe. In the morning. We both need sleep, or we're more likely to trip over Morgana's wards and hand her our lives on a platter. I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. Some insatiable wench keeps demanding that I tup her."

"Wench," she objected, pinching him lightly.

Lucien laughed. And as she curled into the arc of his arms, she couldn't help thinking that, for the first time, his smile looked genuine.

CHAPTER 24

^'
E
xpression is dangerous because it is tied to emotion, and what is emotion, but a weakness?'

–
M
ORGANA DE
W
YNTER

THE
BUTLER
KNEW NOTHING
, nor the downstairs maid. Ianthe paced in front of the fireplace, her nerves a mess, as Lucien questioned the florid cook. He glanced up from his last question and shook his head ever so slightly at her, over the head of the weeping Mrs. Mayhue. With his newfound abilities, he was finding it easier to see who was lying and who was not. Now they had three people on their list that knew nothing about the letters and blackmail.

That left Mrs. Hastings and Thea.

A horrible, yawning pit began to gnaw inside Ianthe's stomach as Lucien saw Mrs. Mayhue out.
Not Thea. Please, not Thea.
But who in her household would be vulnerable to outside influence or deception? A young girl newly apprenticed to the mistress of the household, with her own dark past? Or the extremely efficient housekeeper who ran the place like a tight ship?

"Come in," Lucien directed, and Thea walked hesitantly into the light, her face pale and her eyes huge in her young face. A young girl, trying so hard to be an adult. Trying so hard not to—

Thea took one look at Ianthe, and then her face screwed up and she burst into tears.

"Oh, hell," Ianthe muttered, and drew the poor girl into her arms. "You little fool. You should have come to me."

Hypocrisy at its worst, for had she herself not been in this very situation? It was difficult to find yourself alone in the world, not knowing who to trust or where to turn to. She could never blame Thea for what she'd done. No, her anger was aimed at Morgana, that manipulative, vicious bitch who knew just how to alienate her victims.

I am going to wipe that smug little smile right off Morgana's face
.
With my fist.

"Talk to us, Thea. Tell us what happened," Ianthe murmured.

"I d-didn't w-want to do it," Thea murmured, lifting her head just enough for her words to escape. "B-but they said that... that if I didn't, they'd t-tell you about... about what I'd done and you'd throw me into the streets, and... You know I cannot go back home. Not to my mother. You know!"

Ianthe clutched her closer, her eyes closing in despair. How well she knew that feeling. Thea was only eighteen, after all, not so very much older than Ianthe herself had been when she'd found herself facing similar circumstances. "Shush," she whispered, pressing a kiss to her ward's temples. "I would never throw you out, Thea. You should know that."

"I d-didn't know what to do, and all they wanted was for me to leave the letters on your bed. I didn't see the harm in it." Thea's eyes glimmered as she looked up sharply. "You know I'd never have done anything more. I promise. I—"

"I know."

Ianthe let the girl sob against her shoulder until her tears were finally worn out. Lucien poured a small snifter of brandy for the girl, watching silently as Ianthe settled her on the sofa.

"Here," he murmured, offering the glass to Thea. "This might help settle your nerves."

"Tell us about it, please," Ianthe said, offering her a handkerchief.

"He said if I didn't do as he asked, then he'd—"

"Who said?" Lucien asked sharply.

"There's a... a group of young sorcerers. We were all approached, usually out shopping or visiting or on our rare half days off."

"Approached by who?" Lucien demanded.

Thea's reddened eyes lifted to his. "H-his name is Noah Guthrie. He said he'd help me learn my magic faster. Said that the Order just wanted to shackle it, to tie me to their leg and turn me into a good little p-puppet. At first I said no, but then... I couldn't make the rope knot." She turned to Ianthe. "You kept telling me to keep trying, but... I just... I just wanted to know how to be a sorcerer. I didn't want to fail anymore. So I went to his meeting. I thought it couldn't hurt to attend just one... And there were others there like me; apprentices, those thrown out of the Order, those who'd never been found. And Noah said there was n-nothing to be afraid of, that you were just repeating your propaganda against..."

"Against?" Ianthe whispered.

"Expression." The word was a dry whisper.

"So he encouraged you to use Expression repeatedly," Lucien said, then sighed and scraped a hand over his face.

"There w-was to be an initiation." The girl's face paled. "We all swore by our blood that we would never betray our circle, and Noah said that Eliza, one of my friends, had betrayed her oaths and told her Master. He said she h-had to b-be... punished..." The girl dissolved in tears again. "He said we had to do it. It was only supposed to be a demonstration, but something... something happened. Eliza stopped breathing. I don't know why. I don't know how—"

"I should have guessed." Bloody hell. "You've been distracted and out of sorts for nearly a month, when you were doing so well beforehand. I didn't understand why you'd slid backward with your control, but guilt would do it. Fear. All of those emotions eating away at you." Ianthe shook her head, then dragged the girl into her arms. "You didn't hurt Eliza. There is no magic in this world that could make her die from breaking a blood oath. You were tricked. Most likely it was poison, or some expert sorcery you couldn't detect. I know the Sicarii can wield a stiletto-sharp whip of magic that can kill at a distance and leave you none the wiser. He probably did it himself, so he'd get what he wanted. A group of young, inexperienced sorcerers that he could blackmail."

Thea sobbed.

"Thea, sweetie." Ianthe leaned back to brush the girl's hair out of her wet face. "Can you tell me where this Noah Guthrie met with you?"

Thea wiped her face. "I can do better than that. I followed him one day. We—he and I... We were..." Her gaze dropped, as if she were ashamed. "And I thought he might have been out walking with someone else, so I followed him back to a house, and there was an older lady there. He called her Morgana, and she asked about me, asked if I was doing what she wanted me to do. I'm so sorry, Miss Martin. I knew in that moment that he never cared about me. I knew I was in trouble."

"I see." She wanted to get her hands on Noah Guthrie and wring his bloody neck. Toying with a young girl's emotions like this was both cowardly and cruel. "The address Thea?"

"I don't know where it is precisely, I can't remember, but it was in the eastern end of Knightsbridge. A pretty stone house with rose gardens all around it. I didn't think to note the precise address."

Ianthe released the breath she'd been holding. "Thank you, Thea. It's a start."

CHAPTER 25

D
RAKE ARRIVED barely ten minutes later. Ianthe had gone to check on Louisa, so Lucien stalled his father's words and led him to the conservatory where he'd first taken tea with Ianthe. It seemed a lifetime since that meeting. How much things had changed.

"How is she?" Drake demanded the second the door had shut. He looked like he'd aged a decade overnight.

"Preparing herself for battle," Lucien replied. "Upset, of course, but holding herself together. I would not care to be Morgana when she gets her hands upon her."

"And she has... her daughter with her?"

"Our daughter," Lucien said softly. There was no surprise in his father's eyes. "You knew."

Drake sighed. "Not at first. Several years ago, Ianthe saw you in the street and turned white as a ghost. She pointed you out to me as Louisa's father, and I realized then that the girl was of my blood."

Lucien strolled toward the orange tree, examining it, but seeing none of it. "Ianthe told me you were the one who insisted that she work with me to recover the blade."

"Yes."

"She thinks you did it to free me from Bedlam and help restore me to the Order's good graces, plus of course, there's the fact that you could be certain I wasn't involved, incarcerated as I was. And if you're that good at pulling strings, one can imagine that you might possibly have meant to set us on a collision course with each other." This time he looked up.

Drake eyed him steadily. "Ianthe needed to confront her past."

"One could say the same for me."

"One could."

"I dislike being pushed and pulled about."

With a sigh, Drake dragged out one of the wrought iron chairs and sank into it. "I know you think the very worst of me, but the truth is the decision killed three birds with one stone. It wasn't as though I was sitting there rubbing my hands together like some Machiavellian villain in some penny dreadful. I had few resources, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. I haven't particularly given it a great deal more thought, considering events, but sometimes you take a gamble."

"With people's lives?"

"Yes," Drake snapped, "with people's lives. That's what a position of power means. It's not a privilege; it's a responsibility. If you want to take this up with me at a later time, pray do so, but to be honest, Lucien, I've got a great deal on my mind."

"Considering your ex-wife wants you dead and now has the means to do so."

A flash of something—pain?—shadowed his father's brow. Then the man wiped his face free of expression. "If Morgana wanted to cut my heart out with that Blade, then I would offer myself up willingly, if I could trust her to make a deal and uphold her end of it." He swallowed. "She has Eleanor, Lucien. I know that means nothing to you, but to me, Eleanor is everything. If I could trade myself for her, I would without a second's doubt."

That dark head bowed with weariness. "I am what this position has forced me to become, but don't think for one second that it's easy to make these decisions. I made a choice to let Eleanor do something risky, and now she is paying for it. I don't even know if she's still alive... I feel the weight of that decision, as I do all of the others. It will haunt me until the day I die, but I am Prime. Either I make those decisions, or I sit and twiddle my thumbs while my enemies cut my feet out from under me, including all of those allied with me."

Damn it. How could he hate this man in this moment, when Lucien knew exactly how he'd feel if Morgana had her hands on Ianthe?

Drake lifted a weary head. "May I ask, did my gamble pay off?"

"Yes," Lucien said tightly, "it did. I'm going to marry her."

"And restore some of Louisa's respectability and Ianthe's good name? That's very noble of you."

They stared at each other.

"Ah," Drake said, his eyes softening. "So it's like that, is it?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"I think you do." Drake pushed to his feet, as though he could see straight through him. He leaned heavily on his cane. "I knew you wouldn't hurt her, Lucien. You always owned a soft spot for those who had need and those in dire circumstances."

As if he had any inkling of the son he'd seeded or his personality. Lucien snorted and looked away.

"Do you think that I didn't care? Do you think I just turned my back on you for all those years? I always had someone watching over you. Your governess, then your tutor, and finally, your sorcery Master. Rathbourne either didn't care or he didn't know. All of them delivered frequent reports on how you were as a boy and the type of man you were growing to be. Through their words, I watched as you scored your first run at cricket, or that time you broke your arm protecting your friend from those bullies at Eton. I was there when your powers finally came in, and it gave me great pleasure to know that you had a talent for both of your parent's gifts, wards and divination—"

Lucien cut him off with a sharp slash of his hand. He couldn't hear this. He wouldn't. "The truth is, you might have watched over me, or you might not have, who knows? But the fact is, you
weren't
there. All you were to me was a stranger. Now I hear tales of prophecies explaining why you couldn't be in my life, and I find I have two brothers, two more men who mean nothing to me. They, and you, feel like a memory I can't quite grasp, some detail right on the tip of my tongue... But ultimately, it doesn't matter."