Shivers Box Set: Darkening Around Me\Legacy of Darkness\The Devil's Eye\Black Rose (13 page)

“Your father died in tragic circumstances, I believe?” he asked. His voice and face were neutral, devoid of the expected sympathy usually afforded the recently bereaved. It was curiously refreshing.

“Yes.” My mind went back to the letter one of our Indian servants had presented to me on that never-to-be-forgotten night.

That letter had arrived on my twenty-first birthday.

Uther leaned in to join our conversation, and I felt, rather than saw, Tynan withdraw slightly. He was clearly uncomfortable in his uncle’s company. It surprised me that Uther should demonstrate such a lack of tact, just as we were beginning to get along rather better.

“I confess I struggle to understand the geography of the region,” Uther commented, and my eyes were drawn once again to the exquisite perfection of his mouth. I was heartily glad he had not followed Demelza’s lead and asked me to call him “uncle.” “But your father, I believe, was killed in Aden, not India?”

I nodded and briefly outlined the circumstances. My father’s role in the East India Company required him to travel great distances protecting the Company’s interests.

“Yet you travelled to Aden from your home and brought his ashes back to England to be placed in the family vault? That must have been a most demanding journey. And doubly so for a young woman all alone.” He poured wine from the decanter at his elbow into my glass and sat back, studying my face as I talked.

I described my six-month journey. The awkward trip by wagon across India, the turbulent journey across the Arabian Sea with the ever-present threat of pirate attacks, along the Nile in the tiny paddle steamer, and then by barge to Alexandria. What I didn’t describe—because I did not have the words—was the grinding loneliness caused by the loss of my dear father. My determination, against all advice, to bring his ashes home to England brought me up against some strong opposition from the bureaucrats in the East India Company. How much easier it would be, they advised me in soothing tones, to avoid the lengthy detour via Aden and allow his ashes to be scattered where he fell. I knew that my stubbornness had caused many a scratched head and muttered curse. Yet, I had persisted. The journey ate up almost every penny of the small legacy I had inherited. I had been fortunate, if such a word could be applied to the circumstances, to find a position with Mrs Grimshaw so quickly.

Uther’s eyes were warm as he listened to me and interjected an occasional question. There was an invitation in his gaze, should I have chosen to acknowledge it, that left me feeling slightly giddy. Demelza calmly continued with her meal, exclaiming occasionally at my bravery and tenacity. Tynan, at the head of the table, watched me in silence from under drooping lids, his expression unfathomable. The intense melancholy of his expression was striking.

“So you are all alone in the world, Cousin Lucy?” he commented as Uther turned away to refill Demelza’s wine glass. “I congratulate you on your good fortune.”

Before I could speak, Demelza intervened in a tone of mild reproof. “Do strive for a little tact, Tynan.” She chided in the manner of one addressing a thoughtless child. “And of course Lucy is not alone. She has found us and we are very glad.” She raised her glass to salute me, and I felt some of the heat fade from my cheeks.

I was heartily glad when that strange meal was over. Uther and Demelza left the room together, but, before I could follow them, Tynan surprised me by catching hold of my upper arm and swinging me round to face him. “I did not realise that you had been brought here as Uther’s latest!” he muttered, his lips twisting into a bitter grimace. “You look at him in exactly the same way a mare regards her first stallion, just before he mounts her.”

I took a step back. “You are offensive! It is true that you do not know me, but I have done nothing to earn this disgust! And to Uther, your guardian, you owe respect, at the very least—”

“An impartial observer might say you are a little young for him,” he continued as if I had not spoken. “But you will no doubt be pleased to learn that Uther likes ’em young!” He bowed and, without another word, strode out of the room, leaving me shaking with anger and embarrassment as I stared after him.

* * *

It seemed an opportune moment, on the following day, to raise the matter that had much occupied my thoughts since my arrival here. Demelza was seated in the drawing room, setting infinitesimal stitches in an embroidered sampler. It was an incongruously restful occupation for one who was generally so fidgety.

“Aunt Demelza.” I took a deep breath and launched into my speech. “As kind as it has been of you to bring me here, I must, at some point, turn my thoughts to the future. I cannot trespass on you generosity forever.”

“Oh, Lucy dearest! I beg you, do not heed Tynan when he talks in that wild way he sometimes affects,” Demelza pleaded, her lips trembling into an attempt at a reassuring smile. “Truly, he does not mean half the things he says, and he delights in saying that which is outrageous. I declare, he should have taken to the stage. Though where he has inherited his dramatic tendencies from, I confess, I cannot guess.”

“Oh, no. I shan’t heed him,’ I replied coolly. I was not prepared to divulge his hateful comments of the previous night about my slavish glances at Uther. This was partly because I feared there was an element of truth in what he said. “Any more than I used to heed my father’s junior employees in India when they teased me unmercifully!”

“You are a sensible girl,” she said.

She seemed inclined to ignore my opening remark, but I persisted. “Aunt, I must soon seek another position.” I sounded rather sterner than I had intended.

“Are you not happy here, child?” Her tone was hurt, and I sighed inwardly.

“More than I have any right to be,” I replied. And it was true. Mere months ago, a group of bloodthirsty Arab brigands had, with a few swift, brutal slashes of their swords, completely altered the course of my life. The “meant to be” orderliness of my existence was no more. I had felt, for a while at least, that I no longer knew who I was and wished what had happened to my father undone. However unnerving I might find Tenebris, I was touched by the welcome I had received from Demelza and, in a very different way, from Uther. I could not afford the luxury, however, of drifting into a life where they—I could not, on first acquaintance, include Tynan—became my replacement family. I was fortunate beyond belief in the way that I had been treated since my arrival here. By and large, I knew that poor relations lived in the shadows, apologising, by their demeanour, for their very existence and striving to find use for themselves where none existed. Few were welcomed into the bosom of the family as I had been. But it was very clear, from last night’s exchanges, that Tynan did not view my presence here with the same affectionate complaisance as his aunt and uncle.

“Then why this talk of leaving us?” Demelza seemed genuinely puzzled.

I sighed. “Because this is
not
my home and I must not become accustomed to think of it so,” I said, hearing the wistful note in my voice. “When my father died, I was forced into becoming an employee. It was not what I expected from life, but I am resigned.” I could tell I was not making myself understood. “Dearest aunt, what will happen when Tynan marries? His wife will not want me, an unskilled, unwanted indigent—whose relationship is, at best, sketchy and, at worst, nonexistent—hanging about her new home like a wraith!”

Her silvery laugh rang out. “Is that what worries you? What an odd, fanciful little thing you are. If Tynan ever marries, you will continue as
my
companion, of course. Even if that should mean leaving Tenebris—” She broke off, as if even the contemplation of such an eventuality caused her pain. She regarded me thoughtfully from under the long sweep of her lashes. “And you may marry, too, you know,” she said, snipping a thread with her even white teeth.

Privately, I considered that an unlikely eventuality. The Jagos lived in near seclusion on their island-like peninsula and, even if I did chance to meet an eligible bachelor, my prospects could scarcely be considered advantageous. Something of my thoughts must have shown on my face because Demelza laughed again. “Foolish Lucy,” she purred, taking the sting out of the words by reaching out to stroke my cheek. “Let us not discuss this matter further just now. Can you not, at least for now, view your stay here as a sort of extended summer holiday? One designed to help you recuperate from the horrors you have so recently endured? There will be time enough, when the autumn chills descend, to talk of what next.”

Reluctantly, yet with a tinge of relief, I agreed to postpone any further job-seeking plans.

* * *

Tynan surprised me later that morning by offering to show me around the gardens. Since he seemed to have thrown off his black mood, he proved to be a surprisingly charming companion. He accompanied me to my bedchamber as I changed my light shoes for a sturdy pair of boots. Leaning his shoulders against the door frame, with his hands dug deep into his pockets, he watched me as I wrapped a woollen shawl about my shoulders.

Tynan’s attitude to his own clothing was one of casual grace. The barely starched points of his shirt collar drooped over a carelessly knotted handkerchief, and he wore a long shooting jacket open over an embroidered waistcoat. The customary lock of raven hair fell across his brow.

“Byron is my favourite poet, too,” I told him, with a mischievous sideways glance as we stepped out into the crisp sunlight.

He was quick-witted enough to instantly grasp my meaning. A bark of laughter escaped him. “Little wretch,” he said appreciatively. “Good God, is that what you think me? A Byronic imitator?”

“Not at all. I suspect you are quite unique,” I said blithely as we crunched across the gravel path. “But you do study the poetic in your attire, do you not? Do you write verse, as well?”

“I might,” he confessed, “if I were not devilishly bad at it! Yet you would think, would you not, that I have enough material in my own life to draw upon to produce the greatest tragedy of all time?” Without allowing me time to respond, he continued harshly, “Let us take a stroll to the walled garden, then the maze, the bower and the lake. Oh, wait, let us not forget the herb garden where Demelza grows the plants for her many potions.” I had already heard much of Demelza’s skills as a herbalist. “Then there is the shrubbery and the orchard…”

“May we start with the rose garden?” I asked, sliding my arm through his and effectively slowing his long stride. “I can see that from my bedchamber window, and it looks so pretty.”

He glanced down at me from his superior height. “You are a very unusual girl,
hweg
. Did you know that?”

“No,” I replied serenely. “And nor do you.” He quirked a brow at me and I said, “How many girls do you actually know, Cousin Tynan?”

“Oh, one or two,” he informed me breezily. “It might surprise you to know that Uther occasionally wheels out the cream of the neighbourhood. Just in case I might take a shine to one of them, you understand.”

“And have you done so?” I asked as we stepped into the sweet-scented rose garden.

“No,” he said bluntly, and the black cloud unaccountably descended once more on his brow. “I don’t suppose I shall ever marry.”

He looked so young and lost that I impulsively reached out and pressed his thin hand, smiling reassuringly up into those weary, yet still remarkable, eyes. He returned my stare hungrily for a moment, before raising his hand to study where I had touched it. It was as if he was looking for marks left by my comforting touch. I wondered what his childhood had been like. Demelza, despite her caressing ways, did not strike me as a warm woman. The only person for whom she seemed to care at all was Uther, and on him she doted. Uther, I had reason to suspect, was capable of great passion, but it was perhaps not of the sort required to nurture a delicate child.

“My aunt explained that you have endured considerable ill health in the past, but that does not mean you cannot look forward to a bright future.” I hoped my cheery tone would penetrate his melancholy. He did not answer, and we strolled amongst the fragrant blooms in silence.

“What does it mean?” I asked, wrinkling my brow. “That name you called me?
Hweg
.” He grinned, and I regarded him with suspicion. “Is it nasty? It certainly doesn’t sound very pleasant.”

He placed a hand over his heart in a mock-hurt gesture. “You wrong me, Cousin Lucy, truly you do!” But he would not be drawn on the meaning of the word and, eventually, I gave up and we strolled on into the orchard.

I had almost forgotten the exchange, but it came back into my mind as I was dressing for dinner. “Betty, what does
hweg
mean?” I asked. She seemed more herself this evening, although I thought she looked a little pale. I wondered if there had been bad news from home.

“Celery, I think,” she said, after some silent deliberation. “You know, like the vegetable,” she added in answer to my confused expression.

“Oh.” I frowned, at a loss for anything else to say.

Betty blushed, believing my frown to be for her. “Sorry, miss. My ma would proper scold, but I’m not quick at remembering the old language. It’s very rare to hear it spoken now.”

When she had gone, I studied my slender figure in the mirror, recalling my green dress of the previous evening.
So I look like a stick of celery, do I, my lord Athal?
My eyes darkened angrily. My cousin Tynan, it would appear, had a decidedly poisonous streak to his personality.