The Marquis' Mystical Witch (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (19 page)

“No, mum. But Thomas said he’d be down soon.”

“Dottie, I prefer to wear one of my plainer gowns today. Mrs. Sanders is going to take me on tour and I hope to find some treasures in the attic.”

“Yes, mum,” she said, and pulled a dark blue wool gown with a high neck and long sleeves out of the wardrobe. “It is a bit cool this morning.”

“Quite right. I will need the extra warmth of that gown.”

Dottie was efficient and soon Thea found herself dressed and being led outside. Wulf sat at a small table, the newspaper in front of him. Hearing her step, he put the paper down and stood.

“Good morning. I hope you rested well.”

“Very.” Thea smiled and sat in the chair he pulled out. The footman poured her coffee. Sweet breads filled a plate in the middle of the table.

Wulf finished his cup of coffee. “I’m sorry to leave so soon, but I have to meet with my foreman this morning and ride around the estate this afternoon. I’ll see you tonight.”

Thea started to ask if she could join him on his ride, but he moved quickly and disappeared around the corner of the house. Nonplussed, she sat back. He did not give her time to ask him about the animal she had seen early this morning. And she would have loved to go riding.

She sipped her coffee. She had a full day ahead of her going through this large house. There would be plenty of opportunities to ride. She reached across to the sweet breads. She was finishing her bread and taking her last sip of coffee when Mrs. Sanders came to get her.

“Are you finished, my lady?”

“Yes, are we to start our tour?”

The housekeeper nodded her white-capped head. “I thought perhaps you would like to see the kitchen and look at the menu for the week. Please change anything you wish.”

Thea took a deep breath and stood. She must take charge as her mother had and truly become the mistress of the house. But she'd never feel like the real mistress until Wulf accepted her. If he made her his wife in every way, she'd truly belong. His preference to be on his own last night and this morning concerned her.

However this was the contract they made. Quit complaining, she told herself. Remember Lord Akers. A sudden cool breeze sent shivers down her spine.

After inspecting all the downstairs rooms and most of the upstairs, Thea was ready for tea. Lunch had been a solitary meal, but the servants were attentive and pleasant.

Thea enjoyed looking out at the rolling countryside.

“Lady Radford, your tea is ready.”

Thea moved to the tea set and took the offered cup. A plate with cucumber sandwiches and tiny tea cakes sat beside the teapot.

The butler came to the door. He handed her a card and stepped back. Lady Goodman had come to call. That was strange. In Thea’s home village no one came to visit until the newly married couple gave an indication they were ready to receive.

“Please escort her in, Bailey.”

A frown crossed Bailey’s face, but he nodded. “Yes, my Lady.”

He returned, an unhappy expression on his face. “Lady Radford, may I introduce Lady Goodman? Lady Goodman, the Marchioness of Radford.”

A short, voluptuous woman dressed in an aquamarine gown with a matching bonnet swept into the room. “Thank you, my dear, for receiving me. I know it is rather impudent of me to call so soon.”

“You are most welcome. Would you care to join me for tea?” Thea was glad she had changed into a new gown of cream-colored wool with tiny bluebells embroidered on the material. She noticed the butler hovered in the doorway. “Was there something else, Bailey?”

“No, Lady Radford.” With noted reluctance, he and the downstairs maid left her and her visitor alone.

The woman took the offered tea cup and sat back in a mahogany armchair upholstered in red velvet. Lady Goodman was an attractive woman. Her light blue eyes and silver hair contrasted smartly with her gown. Her tiny feet barely touched the floor. She regarded Thea with an unnerving intensity.

“Perhaps you would like a sandwich or tea cake?” Thea held the plate toward her. The silence was beginning to become uncomfortable.

“I had to see for myself who he put in place of my dear departed daughter,” she said, all the warmth and pleasantness gone from her voice.

“Your daughter?”

“Yes, the first Marquise.
She
was beautiful and talented. I see he did not try to find someone to equal her.”

Thea gasped at the woman’s rudeness. “I am sorry you lost your daughter."

“He killed her!”

Thea’s heart jumped. It couldn't be true. She steadied herself and took a sip of tea. “I'm certain Lord Radford would have been tried and found guilty if he killed your daughter.”

“Ha, he was smart and made it look like an accident. My poor baby.” The woman stared across at Thea, hate burning in her eyes. “You will never replace my golden angel. You,” she spat, “with your black hair and skinny frame. He will get rid of you too.”

Breathless and trembling, Thea stood and put down her cup. “I believe it is time for you to leave." Her voice was soft, but firm. “Bailey,” she called out and he jumped into the doorway. Thea hid a wry smile. Bailey had been nearby the entire time. How much had he overheard?

“Please escort Lady Goodman to her carriage.”

The woman stood and puffed her chest out like an old bantam hen. “Mark my words. He will never love you like he loved my daughter.” With that she strode out, head high.

Thea dropped into the nearest chair. Hands trembling and heart pounding, she wondered about Wulf’s first wife. First, the rector told her of the gossip regarding Wulf’s friend and now this. Of course the woman must be deranged from her loss. She heard sharp words at the door and boots striding purposely in her direction. Thea took great gulping breaths to calm herself and forced a smile on her face.

Wulf stepped inside and stared across at her. He frowned, and the scars seemed to be more pronounced. “Are you all right?”

“I am as right as I can be after being told my new husband killed his first wife.”

He walked across the room to a cabinet and opened it, took out two glasses and poured brandy in each one. He placed one in her hands. “I believe we both can use a good strong drink.”

Thea studied the amber liquid, then took a sip and felt the burn all the way down her throat. She started to hand it back to him.

“Sip along on it. It will steady you.” He took a swallow of brandy and pulled a chair around to face her. “You must have many questions. I apologize for not telling you more about my former marriage.”

“The rector told me about the gossip regarding your friend at our wedding.”

“And you did not ask me any questions?”

“The right time had not occurred.”

She stared into his face. The smooth left side, the handsome man, and the scarred right side. His amber eyes lit with a flame of despair, disgust, what? He raked a hand through thick brown curls and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

Outside, Thea heard the chirping of birds and the roll of a cart coming down the rutted lane beside the house. Normal everyday sounds. Inside, nothing stirred and nothing seemed normal. Then, Wulf began to talk, so low that she had difficulty hearing him.

“At twenty-one, I thought Clarisse was the most beautiful, entertaining, and desirable woman I’d ever seen. We married three months after we met. My parents saw the match as perfect, a fashionable lady with a large dowry. To me, she was the woman I loved.”

Wulf leaned back in his chair. Thea sat as though frozen, the drink in her hand long forgotten.

“The first year we were happy. She was spoiled and petulant but also desirable and charming if she wished, but as time went on, I saw the real person. And that wasn’t who I fell in love with. We pretended and managed as most do, until I got this.” He reached up and touched the scars. “She screamed when she saw me, and I prayed I would die."

Thea put down her glass and reached out to him. She started to touch his face, but he caught her hand. “Don’t.” He swung away from her and stood. He went to the window and stared out so long she believed he would say no more. She started to stand.

“Wait. I will finish the story now and we will
never
speak of it again.”

Thea sat. Her hands folded in her lap.

“The next year became a nightmare. My wife cringed from me. I couldn't blame her.” Thea started to speak, but he held up his hand. “She was young and never had any ugliness in her life.” He sighed. “What I could not forgive is hearing she was having an affair with a friend of mine or,” he laughed harshly, “someone I thought of as a friend.

“One day she disappeared. I rode out after her. I knew they would most probably head for the coast and a ship to take them to the continent.” His face reflected the pain this memory recalled.

“I found her crumbled up in the smashed carriage. The fool had been drinking. He’d left her lying there and raced to the coast.” Wulf’s expression darkened. “I caught him boarding a ship for Italy, and if some men hadn’t pulled me off, I might have killed him. As it was, I’m sure he took some time recovering.”

“But they blamed you for both their deaths?”

Wulf raised his head and those golden eyes flashed with fire. “The gossips said their carriage could have been fixed to lose a wheel, and since none of the locals saw or heard from my ex-friend, there was talk I killed him and buried the body.”

“Were you arrested?”

“No. Of course people saw us fight, but they were strangers to me. I'd have had difficulty finding them, if needed. But, after all I am a marquis, and there was no evidence. Eventually, he wrote his mother, so they all knew he lived. The gossip died down.

Thea reached out and touched his hand. “Are you glad now that the men stopped you?”

“He had been my friend for many years and yet he betrayed me. At that moment, I wanted to kill him.”

Sitting back, Thea studied the face of this man she married. Why did she feel there was something else he wasn’t telling her?

He started to leave, but she stopped him. “Your face hurts. Please let me help you.”

Cooler amber eyes regarded her. “No, thank you,” he said formally. “I will see you at supper.”

He took long strides to the door, then stopped in the entranceway. “I admit few neighbors in for visits. Check with me before you do again.”

Thea felt the rush of heat to her face. Before she could respond, Wulf was gone.

Would she never have a normal life again? She and Elvie were to live in this huge empty house and have no company, no social life. Why? His name had obviously been cleared and he maintained the largest estate in the area according to Mrs. Sanders. There were certain expectations of his place in society.

She’d better keep busy. She had plenty of work to do restoring the old mansion back to its former beauty. Later, she’d think about the complicated man she’d married.

* * * *

Wulf went directly to his private room beyond the study. He unlocked the door. Inside his retreat, some of the strong emotions of the past hour released their hold on him. Going to his work bench, he caressed the smooth oak wood. A part of him wanted to pound against the wood, slash it with his work knife. But, even with his urge to destroy something, he couldn’t damage his creations.

He pulled open the heavy gold curtains letting in what was left of the afternoon sunlight. Shadows flowed across the work bench. A small carved rabbit sitting on its back legs and holding a leaf seemed held in suspended animation, ready to jump away at the least sound.

It was too late to start a new project today. Holding some of the small creatures he’d created from various woods brought him peace.

His wife’s stricken face, pale and wan, would not leave his mind. Did she believe his story or would she fear for herself and her sister? He'd been a fool to believe he could marry her, enjoy her company, and not have her ask questions that he preferred to ignore.

He would send for her sister. Elvie would bring Thea comfort and hopefully defuse the tension heating up between them. His hand closed around a small wolf. The marks made for the fur scraped against his palm and the emeralds he'd put in place for eyes, glowed at him.

Surprised, the urge to change hit him again. Did this happen to his father? Did he have an increasingly unbearable desire to prowl the woods in wolf form? Is that the reason his ancestors gave into the monster? He must not. Racing out and down the corridor, he went to the library to review his books. He'd look one more time for an answer before it was too late for all of them.

* * * *

Thea dressed for dinner in a new gown of pale mauve silk. The low neckline was trimmed in a darker purple ribbon and the hem trimmed in the same color lace. She picked up her cashmere shawl and went downstairs.

When she entered the drawing room, Wulf turned and gave her an encompassing look. “You’re lovely.”

Not beautiful, she thought.

“May I pour you a glass of wine? Our meal will be ready soon.”