Belmary House 4 Page 18

  That was new, and alarming, and it almost distracted him from the familiar searing pain until he finally felt nothing at all. It was blissful oblivion for all of two minutes, and he was certain he was dead at last.

  He regretted his failure, but was so glad to be free of pain — until he both heard and felt a sharp crack. Right across his face. It kept happening, repeatedly, until it made him angry enough to pry open his eyes. If it was the very devil himself smacking him, he was still going to get a fist to the jaw.

  As his vision came into focus, instead of the prince of darkness, he saw a stout, older woman. Her face was tear streaked and her hand was raised to hit him again. He knew this woman, she belonged in one of his favorite times. It was lovely Mrs. Hedley, one of his staunchest allies, and he felt his sorely abused face creak into a smile. As soon as she saw he was alive, she lowered her hand to sob into it.

  “Oh, thank God,” they both said at the same time.

  ***

  Ashford felt a little better, covered in blankets, with his feet up near the huge, roaring fire in the kitchen. He’d been plied with food, of which he could take very little. His stomach was still a mess of thorns and knots, but the pain in his limbs receded more as the heat of the fire soaked into his bones.

  Mrs. Hedley and a young woman named Farrah Lawson had been trying to explain the current situation. He recognized Farrah from his scrying experiments, and wanted to know what happened that had made them so frightened, and if there really had been a fire.

  Mrs. Hedley silenced the girl with a look. “Oh, there was a fire, my lord, but no one was hurt, thankfully.” She seemed to be trying to get Miss Lawson to keep something from him, which made him immediately suspicious. Their words tumbled over one another in a harried jumble, and he made out bits and pieces, such as Thomas gone missing and a queen. Worst of all, Matilda had gone after Thomas early that morning and hadn’t been heard from since. They tried to pretend that everything was fine, but his heart pounded that he’d finally got to the right time, and she was still lost to him.

  “Stop,” he said wearily. “Please, one at a time, and from the beginning.” He gave Mrs. Hedley a sharp look. “And don’t leave anything out.”

  From there he heard a fantastical tale of his spellbook turning up in an apothecary shop, which he knew to be madness, but the young lady insisted Matilda was sure it was the same book. She looked nervously at Mrs. Hedley and plowed ahead.

  “Tilly also thought, no, she was certain Mr. Ermine, that’s the man who runs the apothecary, was your Solomon Wodge.”

  He tossed off his blankets and stood, the force of his shock keeping him from swaying on his still tender legs. “Solomon Wodge is behind this? And she willingly walked into such danger?”

  “No, it wasn’t Wodge after all. Just a man who looked like him, and knew a lot about magic, and, erm, had your ancestors’ book.”

  He wanted to swear, but he refrained since Mrs. Hedley had such a high opinion of him. The man had to be acting, but how could he have so thoroughly fooled Matilda?

  “You must take me to this shop straight away so I can see for myself.” Rid the world of the man’s presence once and for all was more like it.

  “Er, I think that would be a waste of time,” Miss Lawson said, getting a sharp jab of an elbow from Mrs. Hedley. “Respectfully, I mean, sir. It was Mr. Ermine who saved us from the thieves who stole your book and grabbed Thomas. I think we should see Madame Celine instead. She’s the one who arranged the meeting with Sir Amos.”

  He sat back down but threw up his hands in confusion. “Who, pray tell, are Madame Celine and Sir Amos?”

  Miss Lawson blushed deep red. “We’re trying to get to that, but you keep having fits.” She ducked from the next flying elbow and stuck out her chin. “I can get through everything if you’ll only be still.”

  He suppressed a chuckle. As worried as he was, her spiritedness reminded him of Matilda, and he promised to wait until the end to speak again. After listening carefully and biting his cheek to keep from interrupting, he felt he had a grasp on the situation. He remembered his dream of Matilda holding a regal sceptre, and shook his head in amazement. Perhaps those capricious eyes of the followers had been helping him out.

  But just because he now understood what was going on, didn’t mean he had a clue what to do. With a deep sigh, he said, “If you’ll find me some clothes that aren’t quite so blood-stained, I agree we should pay a call to Madame Celine at once.”

  Chapter 26

  Nick came to her room as soon as the guard took Thomas away and showed her the long speech he’d written for her. It was full of nonsense she knew she’d never say and was almost positive Ariana would have spit in his eye before saying any of it, either. She tried to keep her feelings to herself. So far Nick had been nice enough to her, but the impish gleam in his eyes that she’d known before was replaced by a dark emptiness.

  She had the ghoulish thought he might not even be Nick, but some evil replacement, the way Wodge had got a good replacement when Ashford zapped him. She knew it was only the effects of long term magic misuse, and reined in her imagination.

  “We’ve got a lovely welcome celebration planned for you, managed to rustle up some servants from town to polish up the ballroom, and there’ll be an extravagant feast. We’ll do a procession, and before the meal, you’ll give your speech. Or should it be after?”

  She didn’t know if he really wanted her opinion so kept quiet, only stared sadly at the ridiculous things she had to say. All about how excited she was to be part of Nick’s new plan, how she couldn’t wait to change the world. Ugh. Hopefully none of the original followers would believe a word of it. Hopefully Thomas could get to them in time to warn them it was a load of hogwash.

  “How are you explaining my return from the dead?” she asked, fearing her voice sounded too sarcastic and quickly adding, “In case anyone asks me, I mean.”

  He waved his hand in the air as if swishing away an annoying gnat. “I mostly quashed that rumor and started one that we’d had a falling out, hoping her bloody followers would go looking for her. But too many of them suspected foul play and wanted to fight for her honor or some such. It rankles them that I took over, but until they have proof she’s dead, they don’t have much choice. Of course now they’ll never have proof.”

  “What if they don’t believe me,” she said, feeling sad for Ariana, never properly mourned, but grateful that she’d been the sort of person to inspire such loyalty. “We can’t look exactly the same, or have the same mannerisms.”

  He turned his head to the left and right, looking her over. “Not exactly, no. Someone who’d been intimate with her would know at a glance, but as you probably know, she liked aping your American accent, thought it was exotic.”

  Tilly realized then that he had no idea she’d come from before Ariana was born. She wondered if she should tell him that. A part of her wanted to flaunt it in his face that if he killed her, Ariana would never be born, and very possibly he’d still be destitute and pathetic in 1814, with no inkling at all of time travel. She decided to save it in case things became desperate. There was no telling what he’d do if he was backed into a corner. He might kill her just for the satisfaction of it, even though it would ruin his plans. The whole thing made her dizzy and she tried to get back to what she’d been arguing with him about.

  “What about the scar?” she asked, pushing up her sleeve and rubbing her old guinea pig wound.

  His eyes widened as he moved closer to look at it. “Well, that’s an extra bit of fortune,” he said, surprised. “It does look quite similar to one she had. Hers was a bit closer to the elbow, though. She must have shared your love of animals.”

  He shrugged and she wanted to break his nose all over again. How could he speak so carelessly about her like that? She was positive he hadn’t always been this way, and he must have loved Ariana at one point, or at least been fond of her. Supposedly he’d known her as a child! He should have had a spec
k of remorse, or at least respect for her memory, but it was as if she hadn’t been human to him.

  Perhaps she hadn’t been. If she’d first met him in a timeline where she hadn’t been born yet, then any time after that would have already been tainted. When Nick traveled to times when Ariana was a child, he’d already know how things would turn out, he’d be observing them like a satisfied cat who knew he’d one day make a meal of them all. There was no way she could figure it all out, and he must have become impatient with her bewildered staring.

  “Memorize the speech,” he said, flicking a bit of lint off his sleeve. “Someone will be up to help you get dressed for tonight.” His blue eyes, that she’d once thought made him look like a Disney prince, now only showed determination and cruelty. “You’ll want to be convincing, or it will be Adkins who suffers. Even one word that differs from what I’ve written and he’ll pay.”

  She shuddered, wanted to stick out her tongue and proclaim childishly that at that very moment Thomas might be sowing seeds of rebellion. Instead, she nodded meekly and looked down at the speech, still trying to get her swirling thoughts in order.

  She lay on the bed and wished for Ashford, never wanting him more in her life. She hoped to fall asleep so she might dream about him, and closed her eyes to better conjure up an image of his face. In her mind, he wasn’t angry at her for running off and getting into so much trouble. He was only happy to see her. He was so delighted, in fact, he picked her up off the ground and twirled her around, his face buried in her neck, telling her over and over how much he loved her, promising to make everything right.

  Hot tears burned their way down her cheeks as her fantasy dissolved. Everything was so thoroughly screwed up, she didn’t know how it could ever be right, and for a moment, she felt an almost overwhelming urge to give up. She’d ruined everything. In one time, her children hadn’t been born, in another, one had been murdered. She could only save herself, and she didn’t know why she should anymore.

  “I can still save Thomas,” she whimpered.

  He’d tried to find her and now he was up to his ears in the same predicament. If she could get another moment alone with him, she’d tell him to run, leave her to her fate. It was too risky to be caught with any of Ariana’s followers, as she was certain Nick’s men didn’t trust him nearly as much as he thought they did.

  He would fight her, but she couldn’t think of anything else. If she shouted out the truth instead of Nick’s prepared speech, Thomas would be cut down for failing to convince her to be agreeable. On the other hand, as soon as she gave the wretched speech, all Ariana’s followers would lose faith, and there would be no one to keep Nick from carrying out whatever plans he had for world domination, and no justice for Ariana. All she could do was what Nick told her, and hope Thomas had time and opportunity to escape during the charade of a celebration.

  She had decided to demand Thomas’ release in exchange for her lies, and had restored enough of her gumption to stop crying. It was a good thing, too, because the door swung open without any warning. Before she could stand up, two young men dragged a trunk into the room, and two pale, anxious looking maids followed them. As soon as they’d dropped the trunk, the men left with barely a grunt, and the girls dropped to the ground to greet her.

  “Stand up,” she said tiredly. “Did they bring you from town?.”

  They stood and bobbed curtsies, refusing to meet her eye. “Our father works for Sir Amos. We’re here to help you dress, Your—”

  “Don’t say it,” Tilly warned. “I mean it.” She softened when she saw them tremble, and wondered what they knew. If their father was part of Nick’s crew, they might know the truth, but it was more likely their father would never talk about such sensitive information around them and they’d thought she was dead or missing like all the rest. Either way she could never get out of her current getup and into a new one on her own. “Fine, help me get dressed, then. I won’t cause any trouble.”

  They pried open the trunk and pulled away the layers of thin fabric that covered its contents. All three of them gasped at the magnificent peacock hue of the velvet underneath it and when one of the girls drew out fold after fold of the glorious gown, they all stood in awe of it for a moment. It was definitely from this time, with the bustle and deep neckline. The train just kept coming out of the trunk, it must have been four or five feet long, and the whole edge of it was crusted with dyed seed pearls and greenish blue stones that twinkled in the firelight. Tilly stepped forward to run her hand over the thick pile of the velvet and felt a shimmer of something that told her this gown hadn’t been made with physical labor alone.

  “Where did it come from?” she wondered aloud, forgetting her animosity toward the two maids. Their awe of the gown had bonded them into a sisterhood of sorts, at least for the moment.

  “Do you not recognize it, Your— I beg you pardon, but it’s supposed to be yours.”

  She drew her hand away as if the dress had burned her and swallowed hard past the lump that formed in her throat. It only took her a second to recover from the shock and she circled it, inspecting it with new eyes, leaning in to study the tiny, perfect stitches.

  She herself loved to sew, surely she would have taught her daughter, maybe instilled her love of fine fabrics and sparkly notions into her? This had been Ariana’s gown, and if not made by her own hands, then surely chosen by her. It might be the only thing besides the gilded shell that told her anything about the unknown girl.

  It made her head spin to understand how any of this was happening, but seeing and touching the dress filled her with a warmth and renewed her resolve to find a way out of this mess. It was a tiny bit tight on her which made her worry about what Ariana had been eating, wondered if she’d been frail.

  “I have been making up for lost time, though,” she murmured to herself.

  After nearly starving in her time trapped in the seventeenth century, she’d spent a lot of Dex’s money on takeout during the days he made her stay in his flat, and she’d been cramming anything and everything Mrs. Hedley put before her since she arrived in this time. It didn’t matter now, she knew she wouldn’t have an appetite for Nick’s feast.

  Once she was completely laced and hooked and buttoned into the gown, she swished the skirts around her, revelling in the sound. There was nothing like velvet to make you want to keep living.

  “You look lovely,” one of the maids peeped. “Everyone will be so pleased to see you back safe and sound.”

  Her velvet high dissipated and her stomach dropped sickeningly as everything rushed back at her. She was completely dressed, they were fussing with her hair this very moment. How much longer did she have?

  She didn’t want her final words to be a deception to Ariana’s faithful followers. No, she had to stop thinking of them like that. Surely they’d been her friends, maybe a second family to her. She squeezed back a tear, hoping something hadn’t gone wrong, something that had made her daughter feel she had to run away and find a new home.

  Her fists clenched until the palms of her hands stung and she slowly relaxed. She had to concentrate on now, not keep getting sucked back to a time that hadn’t happened yet. If the girls hadn’t been ruthlessly twisting and tugging on her hair, she would have dissolved to the floor in a puddle of hopelessness.

  The girls were arguing about whether or not to put crystal pins in her hair along with the gorgeous emerald encrusted tiara when Nick barged into the room. Did no one knock? She was supposed to be a queen, damn it, and she might have been in her knickers. He shooed the maids out and bowed deeply.

  “I swear my heart skipped a beat. I almost believed you were my beloved.”

  Oh, she longed to punch him, just grind her fist right into his smirking mouth, but she nodded as best she could with the crown attached to her head, not wanting to knock it askew. It shouldn’t matter at all what she looked like, but she felt she needed to honor Ariana and look her best.

  “I want you to let Thomas go before th
e celebration,” she said, cutting to the chase. If he’d tried to exchange any more pleasantries with her, she might have thrown up.

  He laughed, and not a mocking snicker, a deep belly laugh as if he thought what she said was truly hilarious.

  “Why would you think I’d do that?” he said when he calmed down. “He’s my insurance against you trying something cute. You forget I know you, Tilly. I know what you think you’re capable of. Thomas can stay safe and sound locked in his room, under heavy guard of course, until you’ve done what you’re supposed to. And convincingly, I might add.”

  Was he lying to her about Thomas being under heavy guard? That would mean he didn’t trust him, which meant Thomas wouldn’t have been able to speak to anyone.

  What did she really know about Nick? He was a terrible fop, but then again, Ashford did love his fine clothes as well. Being a dandy didn’t make one an idiot, but she’d always written Nick off as a bit of a fool. He was flirtatious and outgoing, and she’d found him amusing and charming before all this. Had it been an act all along, or did his money troubles and finding out what he might do with dozens of witches at his command drive him to being this awful? She wasn’t sure and decided not to test him. She blinked several times and moved a bit closer to him, making sure her skirts swayed prettily.

  “Please let him go to the celebration,” she said, sounding meek and cajoling. “I’m so nervous about giving the speech and having so many people staring at me, and scared to death about Thomas on top of all that. Please let him be where I can see him, at least.” Trying not to roll her eyes, she clasped her hands in front of her.

  He paced a few steps away from her, but any suspicion at her sudden sweetness had melted away when he turned back around.

  “I don’t see why it should hurt.” He nodded, pleased at his magnanimity. “He’ll still be under guard, though. I beg of you not to try anything foolish. Let’s have this go smoothly, shall we?” He lunged forward and chucked her under the chin, his smile turning lascivious. “Perhaps you really could replace her,” he said. She used every ounce of willpower she’d ever had not to recoil. “I quite fancied you at one time, you know.”