Desire Me (19 page)

“You were resting. I didn’t want to rouse you. You’ve been under so much pressure lately,” Spencer explained.

A heavy line creased her already wrinkled brow. “I am the monarch of this country,” she said in her strongest voice of authority.
“I do believe I can handle the pressure. I have thus far.”

“Yes, your majesty.” He lowered his head and hoped he appeared appropriately contrite. “It won’t happen again.”

She stood, and a flurry of servants were instantly by her side while she moved to a large wing-backed chair in the sitting
area of the room. “Well, don’t dawdle, come join me.” She beckoned with her hand.

He moved quickly to the seating area and selected his chair.

“Hmmmm. I am most concerned about this current situation. I simply will not abide a lunatic murdering my military leaders.”
She pounded her fist on the armrest. “Soon I will have none to rely on. Precisely how am I to civilize Africa if all of my
military leaders are deceased?”

He bristled at her use of the word “lunatic.” He was not some common madman going about London murdering just anyone. This
was his destiny. Everything had been explained to him, in detail, when he was a small child. His grandfather had seen to it
that Spencer had grown up knowing precisely who he was—the Chosen One. When everyone else had failed him, his grandfather
had been there to show him the way.

“Well, of course you cannot,” Spencer said, continuing to play his role as faithful advisor. “The whole of your empire will
feel the effects of the loss of these important men.” He crossed his legs. “But we will get this situation under control,
and your African missions will move forward as you have carefully planned.”

He’d needed to infiltrate her defenses, to make her fear
for the safety of the country. Without having a role in the government,
without being close to her, his random killing of the generals would have served no purpose. Just as carefully as he’d orchestrated
the kills, he’d created a relationship in which she would rely on him. He hoped the next words out of her mouth would be the
ones he’d been waiting to hear.

“I want you to meet with the lieutenant-generals,” she said. She sat back in her chair and gripped both armrests. “See which
of them is up to the task. I’ll get recommendations from others, but you’ve always had a talent in that area. I need you to
help me select who should be the next in command,” she said.

There it was, the assignment he’d worked for. All his efforts were paying off. All of the years he’d spent trying to work
his way into her cabinet, and then once he’d arrived, the exhausting hours of pandering and fawning over her. They had not
been for naught. He said nothing and tried to keep any indication of his excitement out of his expression. So he merely nodded.

He knew precisely which men to contact. He’d already selected them and slipped them elixir in preparation for this very moment.
And it was working. The elixir was feeding their aggression, making them stronger and their minds more cunning. Spencer’s
army would be brilliant and unstoppable.

“I can’t very well traipse about in the training field,” the queen said abruptly, pulling him out of his fantasy. “I want
those five men replaced in two days with the best you can find. I know there are men up for promotion, but I want these hand-selected.
By my decree.” She tapped her chest.

He smiled; he could not help himself. “Yes, your
majesty, I will get to work on this straightaway.” Of course, she’d have
two more to replace before all was done, but his plan was falling into place. “I will find the perfect men to lead us into
battle,” he said.

Soon they’d be ready for his command, and then he would control all of Britain’s military just as the prophecy had predicted.
And he could see his ancestors’ plan through to fruition. Atlantis might not physically rise, but he could ensure an Atlantean
ruled all.

“You are dismissed,” Victoria said.

He stood to leave.

“Oh, and Cole”—she held one finger up and leveled her shrewd eyes on his—“the next time someone comes to see me about this
matter, especially Maxwell Barrett, you are to allow him entrance.”

“Of course, your majesty.” He nodded, then backed out of her presence. Perhaps Spencer should do something about Max to make
sure that never happened.

S
abine knew she was going to walk through that door and break Agnes’s heart. To say she was not looking forward to it was a
gross understatement. Regardless of how difficult it might be, this was not something Sabine could keep from her aunts.

She stepped into the large bedchamber they all shared. It was the sort of room designed for children, with more than one bed
along the expansive wall. But Max had no children, so he’d had the room designed to cater to guests. He’d offered her aunts
their own bedchambers, but they’d opted to share this one. They’d always shared a room, and they’d seen no reason to do differently.

It was late in the evening, but her three aunts were still awake. Lydia sat in a reading chair in the corner, book in hand,
while Agnes stood behind Calliope braiding her hair. For a moment, Sabine could imagine how they’d been as girls, with her
mother right there with them. Four sisters and the best of friends.

“Sabine,” Calliope said with a warm smile. “Welcome back.”

Agnes immediately walked over. “How was he?” She put her hand to her throat. “How was Phinneas?”

Sabine felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “Oh, Agnes, I’m so very sorry.”

The color completely drained from her aunt’s face, and immediately her two sisters were there by her side as she crumpled
to the floor. She clung to them as she wept, and they cried with her. Sabine stood quietly, watching, her tears clouding her
vision. There was nothing graceful about their grief; it was raw and intense and utterly unapologetic.

After several moments, Lydia stood. “The Chosen One had found him, then?”

“It appears so. We found Phinneas in his garden. Max made certain to give him a decent burial there.”

Agnes swallowed and tried to smile. “He loved that garden.”

Calliope and Lydia helped her to the edge of her bed, where she sat. Her head and shoulders hung down in defeat.

Sabine knelt at her feet. She placed the stack of letters in her lap as well as the ribbon collection Max had found. “We found
these. We thought you’d want to have them.”

Agnes opened her eyes and gasped. “My ribbons. That silly old fool. Why would he keep all of these?” She ran her hand reverently
over the bag of ribbons as she spoke.

“Because he loved you,” Calliope said.

“I’m sorry, but we read through some of the letters,” Sabine said. “We thought they might help us.” She shook her head. “I
don’t know, perhaps assist us in figuring out a way to stop the prophecy.”

Agnes looked up. She shook her head. “Don’t be. There is nothing I’m ashamed of in these letters.” She motioned to Calliope.
“Hand me my box.”

Calliope reached beneath Agnes’s bed and withdrew an old wooden box. Sabine had seen it before, plenty of times. Her aunt
had always had it, as far as she’d known, but Sabine knew better than to ask what was kept inside.

Agnes withdrew another stack of letters. “Here are his letters to me. And you’re right, perhaps you will find something helpful
within them.”

Sabine took the letters, both sets. “I’ll make certain you get these back.” She would share these letters with Max, because
they might hold some clue that could aid them in their search. But they also might reveal secrets she’d worked hard to protect.
Earlier on the train when he’d asked why Agnes and Phinneas couldn’t be together, she’d lied, come up with a false reason
about a Seer and a Healer not being free to marry. But it was the only thing she could think of, aside from telling Max the
truth about Agnes’s being the third guardian.

Agnes wept freely. Sabine longed to say something or do something that would ease Agnes’s pain. But she knew there was nothing
that could help. When her own parents had died, she’d had to allow time to soften the pain. It still lurked beneath the surface
and sometimes would crash upon her, but most days she simply missed them.

“What of the Seer’s book?” Lydia asked.

“We found that as well, though someone was coming back after it. We had to run and hide in the woods.”

“We’re so thankful you’re safe. Max took very good care of you,” Calliope said.

“Phinneas faithfully wrote all of his visions down in that book,” Agnes said.

“I was hoping you could take a look through it,” Sabine said, holding it out to Agnes. “See if you can find anything on the
prophecy and his interpretation of it. I know he didn’t have the entire prophecy, but he knew enough about it to have found
the dove.”

The aunts exchanged glances.

“Did he say where?” Lydia asked.

“No, it was an incomplete letter to Madigan. It said he found it, but it was safe for now so he didn’t want to remove it and
risk endangering it,” Sabine said. “Max and I have decided we should try to locate it, to be prepared for the battle with
the Chosen One.”

“Where will you go?” Calliope asked.

“That’s what I was hoping you would help with.” She handed the book to Agnes, then placed her hand over her aunt’s. “I don’t
want to put too much pressure on you. So if you can’t do this, I will do it myself.”

Agnes’s shoulders straightened. “Of course I can do it.”

“The Chosen One will be after you now,” Lydia said to Agnes.

“Let him come. I will not fear him,” Agnes said.

The following morning, Sabine was surprised to see Agnes join them at breakfast. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, a testimony
to a late night spent crying.

“Good morning,” Max said to Agnes as he rose from his seat.

Sabine’s heart contracted at the show of kindness. As much as he tried to prove otherwise, Sabine knew Max was a good man.

“Morning,” Agnes said. She took a seat next to Sabine.
“I’m not hungry, but I wanted to join you. I think I may have found
something.”

Sabine pushed her own breakfast away from her, making room for Agnes to set down Phinneas’s book.

“This is from entries he recorded sometime last year. He plainly says in order to locate the dove, you must go where it all
began.” She looked up at Max and then Sabine. “I think he’s speaking of where the first ship from Atlantis landed. Lulworth
Cove. See the part where he refers to the ocean’s door?” She pointed to the next page. “That’s what our people called the
rock formation that looks like an arch. It’s near the chapel that overlooks the cove.”

“Durdle Door,” Max said.

“What?” Sabine asked.

“That’s officially what it’s called. That rock formation,” he said. “Durdle Door.”

Sabine read through the words in the book. It wasn’t very much to go on, but it was a place to start.

“That makes sense,” Lydia said. “Our people began there, though the village has long been abandoned.”

“There is more, Sabine,” Agnes said. “In other sections, he kept mentioning these numbers. I didn’t know what they were at
first. I’m not certain he knew what they meant, but he recorded them several times.” Her eyes met Sabine’s. “Your birthday.”

Sabine frowned. “What does my birthday have to do with anything?”

“It is coming up,” Calliope said.

“When?” Max asked.

“Next week I will turn twenty-five,” Sabine said. “But I don’t understand the significance.”

“I think it might be a timeline,” Agnes said.

“Or a deadline,” Max suggested.

“You think the prophecy is somehow attached to my birthday?” she asked.

“Perhaps it is merely a coincidence,” Lydia said. “Or the numbers are something else. An address or a location of some sort.”

“Perhaps,” Agnes said. “But I don’t think so. I just want you to be careful.” She squeezed Sabine’s hand.

“Of course,” Sabine said. “I’m always careful.”

Max rose to his feet. “You should go pack.”

Sabine nodded.

“I have much to do to ready for the journey.” He held his teacup up in a salute. “I hear Lulworth Cove is beautiful this time
of year.”

Shortly after breakfast, Sabine left with Calliope for the shop. It was quite evident that it was far too dangerous for Agnes
to venture outside, so they had decided to take turns packaging the remedies for the villagers and handling the local patrons.
Sabine and Max had plans to leave London later this afternoon, so she had taken the opportunity to help her aunts, and to
get some much-needed distance from Max. The more time she spent with him, the more she craved his affections. She was on a
slippery slope, and she knew it.

Sabine sat at the back table, measuring and combining the necessary ingredients, all but the elixir, which Agnes would add
later. Spending so much time with Max was weakening her defenses, tempting her to think of not merely what her flesh wanted,
but what her heart wanted as well. One night in his arms hadn’t been enough, as she’d foolishly thought. But with Max came
more than simply passion. No, there were faint whispers from her heart, asking, What about love?