The Marquis' Mystical Witch (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (2 page)

“In a few days, we will be off to London. I know your first season was not particularly successful.” He leaned back and studied her with his small drab eyes. “You are presentable, if not pretty. A bit older since you missed last season mourning your parents. Nevertheless, I expect you to make an agreeable contract of marriage before we return here in June.”

“Agreeable to whom, Uncle Rigby?”

His jaw tightened and a vein pulsed at his temple. She must watch her words. This cold man was nothing like her kind, loving father. They were not alike in looks or actions. Of course, Uncle Rigby was a half brother and apparently much more like his ill-natured mother.

“Several gentlemen expressed an interest in you during your first season. I’ve been told you refused their generous offers.”

Thea grimaced. He had to be speaking of Lord Hart and Lord Akers. Lord Hart, a widower with four small children obviously seeking a free nanny, and Lord Akers, a tall, thin aristocrat with the coldest silver eyes she’d ever seen. She had politely declined both.

“The gentlemen you are speaking of did not suit me and my parents agreed.”

“Be that as it may.” Her uncle glared across the desk. “Lord Akers has approached me with a very generous offer, and I expect you to give him first consideration.”

“Uncle Rigby, I thought Elvie and I were welcome to live here until we met someone we wished to marry. Surely you do not expect me to accept an offer from that horrible man.”

“I certainly do. He is a most proper titled gentleman. You should be pleased to have received an offer from an earl.” He glanced away for a moment.

She felt nauseous at the thought of having to pretend to welcome Lord Akers’ suit. Thea's mind raced trying to find the right words to convince her uncle to let her chose who she'd marry.

Uncle Rigby leaned forward. “When we go to town, you will receive Lord Akers and show an interest in him at Ton gatherings. After an adequate period of time, your betrothal will be announced.” He moved some papers around on his desk, ignoring her. “There is little extra money for a dowry, and I expect Lord Akers will also make a home for your sister.”

“Papa set aside money for our dowries. Mama assured me of that after his death.”

“Well, your parents are gone. I have to keep up this large estate and see about my own daughter. I have no need for two more girls to drain our income.”

Thea wanted to shout at him that it was their home and their money and he and his disagreeable wife were the interlopers. She gritted her teeth instead. She must protect her sister at all costs.

“Is that all, Uncle Rigby?”

“Yes. You may go.”

Infuriated by their discussion, she stomped across the room and out the door, careful not to slam it, as she would have preferred. Whatever could she do? She’d never wed Lord Akers or allow Elvie to live under his roof.

She hurried toward the small sitting room. Elvie had her head bent over her sewing, a look of concentration on her sweet face. Seeing Thea, she smiled. Aunt Cornelia glanced up from her book. Her pale, icy blue eyes met Thea’s before quickly glancing away. Thea was sure she knew about the meeting with Uncle Rigby.

Why was he making these demands? There had to be more too this sudden “hurry and marry” decision than she was being told. Thea tried to please her aunt. She took Aunt Cornelia’s quarrelsome mother, who reminded Thea of a yipping terrier, outside for walks. The rest of the day, she ran up and down stairs to fetch whatever they wanted. Now, she and her sister were suddenly an imposition in their own home.

“Come, walk with me,” Thea said, motioning to her sister. “It’s nice outside, although a bit cool.”

Elvie smiled. “I’ll get my pelisse and join you out front.”

Silence filled the room as Elvie left. Thea continued to stare at her aunt. She knew in her heart that this miserable woman had a hand in her fate. Her smug countenance said it all.

“If you have something to say, young lady, speak out,” Aunt Cornelia snapped.

Thea clenched her hands. “I don’t understand. Why must my sister and I leave? I’ve done everything possible to help since your arrival.”

“I’m sure your uncle explained. It is for the best,” she said, pulling her shoulders back. “You will thank us later.”

“We have no other options?” Thea asked.

Aunt Cornelia shot her a piercing glance. “I could arrange for you to be a companion to my friend, Lady Nichols.” She flashed a cruel smile when Thea winced. “Your sister can wed Lord Akers in your place. Perhaps that arrangement would be more to your liking?”

Fury whipped through Thea. Unable to hold in the words, she stepped closer. Brief pleasure flashed through her at the sign of fear she glimpsed in Aunt Cornelia’s eyes.

Struggling to control her anger, Thea bent toward her aunt and spoke in a low controlled voice. “I don’t know what you and Uncle Rigby are hiding regarding this urgency for me to marry Lord Akers. I will find out what made you change your mind, no matter how long it takes.” With that said, Thea rushed out of the room and into the fresh air.

She took gulping breaths and fought to hold back her tears. She had to be careful and strong for Elvie. Somehow, she must find an answer for both of them.

Lord Akers was her worst nightmare. She recalled his leering eyes and thin cold hands the first and last time he’d danced with her. She’d avoided him afterwards. However, she’d seen him lurking in the background with a smirk on his mouth and his cold eyes, flat and unreadable. He waited like a coiled snake ready to strike. And with her uncle’s help, he had.

“Thea,” Elvie called.

Thea blinked one last time and forced a smile to her face. She planned to tell her sister about her conversation with her uncle, but she wouldn’t mention Lord Akers, only about her need to find a husband.

Was there anyone willing to marry a lady without a dowry and with a sister? What if the man she married found out about her special talent? Would he accept her? She had to be careful, not just for herself, but also for Elvie. Her mother had warned her to choose a man who would understand and accept every aspect of her. For now, she must hide her abilities.

If only she could view this season with joy and excitement instead of with cold fear in her belly. The world around them had suddenly become a much more dangerous place.

* * * *

Thea sat patiently beside her cousin, Amy, in her uncle’s landau. In the London street, carriages lined up waiting to disembark their passengers. The dance promised to be a crush, which most said guaranteed a successful ball. The evening would be long and trying unless Thea managed to avoid Lord Akers.

Their coach moved to the building’s entrance, and they disembarked. Thea stood with her Aunt Cornelia, Uncle Rigby and Amy in the receiving line. She studied the guest of honor, Lady Jane. With diamonds shining in her hair and wearing a white gown covered with tiny silver sparkles, she looked like a fairy princess. An older woman, most likely her mother, stood to her left. A man on Lady Jane’s right whispered in her ear and stepped away.

The line moved slowly, but finally they stood in front of their hostess. Thea curtsied to Lady Radford. Her daughter smiled and welcomed her and Amy. Then, Thea and her uncle’s family joined the crowd moving into the ballroom. The evening seemed promising thus far.

Masses of pink and white roses decorated the columns and sent their sweet fragrance floating into the air. Light from the ornate crystal chandeliers overhead and standing candelabras spaced around the room filled the area with a warm glow.

The band took up their instruments and gentlemen rushed to ask the loveliest of the ladies to dance. Amy blushed becomingly and strolled onto the dance floor on the arm of a dashing young man.

“His father is
only
a baron,” Aunt Cornelia whispered to Thea. “I believe our Amy can do better.”

“He seems quite pleasant,” Thea said.

“Pleasant doesn’t count. I expect her to make a contract with at least an earl.”

“Maybe Amy could marry Lord Akers,” Thea mumbled under her breath, then felt a flash of regret for her hasty remark. She wouldn’t wish such a fate on anyone.

“What?” Her aunt’s head snapped around.

Thea ignored her. She sensed someone staring and had no need to turn her head. Lord Akers must be close. Her skin crawled with the memory of his touch.

“Althea,” Uncle Rigby said, using her full name. “Lord Akers wishes to greet you.”

Reluctantly, Thea turned to her uncle and the man at his side. Lord Akers’ smile curved his lips, but didn’t change the avaricious look in his silver eyes.

He bowed. “My dear Miss Beckett, how lovely you look tonight.”

A hungry leer crossed his face and bile rose in her throat. Lord Akers continued to stare, his gaze roaming from her face to the low-cut bodice of her white gown.

Thea had been both surprised and pleased when Aunt Cornelia took her and Amy to the mantua-maker for several new gowns. The white one with green trim she wore this evening was her favorite, except for the low neckline. She’d tried to add a bit of lace to cover her bodice, but her aunt had pulled the trimming out and warned her to wear the dress as made.

Now she knew why. They were determined to keep Lord Akers interested in her. True, he was an earl and reportedly very wealthy. Was he paying her uncle for her hand in marriage? She hoped Uncle Rigby would not stoop so low, but feared he might.

The music changed denoting the beginning of another dance, a waltz.
Oh, no, please not
.

“May I have this dance, Miss Beckett?” Lord Akers bowed and offered his arm.

“Of course you may,” Uncle Rigby answered for her and pushed her forward.

Thea was glad for her elbow-length gloves. She set her hand gingerly on Akers’ arm and moved toward the dance floor. When the waltz began, he pulled her close. Thea pushed at his chest, but he laughed at her futile attempt to put more distance between them.

“Soon, my dear, we will be much closer. Every night, when I go to my room, I think of the time when you will be lying in my bed waiting for me,” his raspy voice whispered in her ear.

Thea felt light-headed. His overpowering perfume made her nauseous. She swallowed and straightened her shoulders, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words struck her heart with fear and loathing. Ignoring him, she continued to stare straight ahead and prayed for the dance’s quick end.

He chuckled. “Your pale cheeks and the tremor in your hands excite me. There is no escape, my dear. No one else will make a better offer.” He squeezed her hand. “You and your sister are as good as mine.”

His words motivated Thea even more in her determination to escape his loathsome suit. There had to be an answer to her dilemma. She’d find it and do whatever was necessary to keep Elvie and herself out of his clutches.

Thank goodness, after what seemed an eternity, the music stopped. Thea tore herself out of his arms. Her hand itched to strike him, and she let all the distaste she felt show in her face. “I’ll find someone, anyone, before I allow you to touch me or my sister,” she said between clenched teeth. His cruel laughter followed her as she hurried away.

* * * *

Wulf slipped through the French windows onto the veranda, leaving the noisy congested ballroom behind. Five years of being away from the nobility and London's fashionable parties hadn't been long enough.

His brother had tried to convince him to join the family in town last year. Ulric had refused. A twinge of guilt surfaced as he thought of Evan and his untimely death.

He moved farther toward a darkened corner to be completely out of sight. Seeing all the ambitious mothers still willing to throw their daughters in his direction made him realize he had a decision to make. One that could no longer be ignored.

Years of exhaustive studies and searching had yielded no results and given Wulf little hope of ending the family curse. Disgust at what had happened to him and his family left the taste of bitterness in his mouth. His father and grandfathers had finally embraced their ability to change into the werewolf. Wulf fought what was happening to him more quickly as the years went by. Ruthlessness, cunning, and cruelty were traits he saw take over his loving father and grandfather. But, he had struggled long and hard to resist the temptations.

Ulric had hoped Evan would outlive him. The curse struck the heir at sixteen, so Ulric reasoned Evan would be immune. Now, with his brother gone, he had only two choices; to marry and produce an heir to carry on the family name and curse, or let it all end with his death.

Suddenly a flash of recognition heightened his senses. He was no longer alone. The soft breeze delivered a hint of her fragrance, roses and jasmine, as he turned toward the French windows.

Her white gown rippled in the breeze. Ulric edged closer and studied her. He recognized a look of defiance on an otherwise lovely face. Her stern expression was softened by a Cupid’s bow mouth that begged to be kissed and glorious black hair, so dark that moonlight sparked off the lovely curls. He held in the growl that wanted to erupt.
Mine
. The word pounded into his body and heart.