Authors: Claudy Conn
ANNE WAS THE Horwich housekeeper, though she often thought of herself as the Horwich slave.
It felt as though she was the only one forever being set at tasks that were not part of her job. She had been hired as a housekeeper, but because she was one of the few live-ins, she found herself being called on more than she thought was fair. She was fond of Mrs. Horwich and as of yet, had no wish to leave.
She had just finished the last of her daily chores. She was about to return to the kitchen and have spot of tea with the two lads who were finishing up the last of their evening meal when the front door knocker sounded loudly.
Rubbing her hands on her soiled apron, she rolled her eyes. She grumbled to herself about the quantity of work she was forever given and ambled down the dark corridor to the oversized front door.
She opened it a crack and then wider. What met her eyes was a young woman, whose small straw bonnet sagged beneath the weight of rain water, and dark hair hung in ragged wet lengths.
The young woman clutched a satchel in her hand. Anne saw and took note of the trunk on the marble stoop at the young woman’s side.
Anne was a soft-hearted woman whose age had been the subject of conjecture amongst her intimates, but whose motherly nature could not be questioned. She saw the expression of resignation on the young woman’s face and began making clucking sounds as she ushered her within the central hall.
“There, there, look at ye! Lord bless me. Ye must be the young lady they have been expecting all afternoon.” She went out onto the stoop and bent to grab the leather handle of the large trunk. The young woman at the other end was pushing it along and smiled to herself as she objected, “Ye don’t have to do that, I can get it, miss.”
“I am sure you can,” Exerilla said as she put a bit of muscle into it and got the heavy trunk inside.
Anne closed the door at their back and stretched backwards, “Whew, well now, I best be taking ye upstairs where ye can change out of yer wet clothes. Ye don’t want to catch a chill.” She stepped toward the wide staircase in the center of the sizeable central hall, and turned back to look at Exerilla who had hung back, “Well, then, come on.” She made a grumbling sound, “Don’t know why that lazy blackguard Jeremy Baker brought ye out here in an open carriage. He could have attached the surrey, but he is too blasted lazy.”
Ignoring this, Exerilla looked around and asked tentatively, “Do you think we should let the squire and Mrs. Horwich know I have arrived before I go up?”
“Whot and let them see ye like this?” Anne shook her head, “Oi’ll be taking ye to yer room first, oi will, and while ye dry yerself and manage yer hair, oi’ll let them know, ye are here and will be down shortly.”
Exerilla turned and looked at her trunk and then at the wide staircase and Anne laughed, to say, “No,
we won’t
be dragging that up a flight of stairs. I have two sturdy boys in the kitchen, taking their time over their dinner. Oi’ll fetch them to bring it up to ye.”
“Oh, thank you…er…”
“Anne,” she said simply.
Exerilla smiled warmly, “I’m Exerilla Radley.”
“Right, now come along.” Anne pulled the wet cloak off Exerilla, making little sounds with her tongue and grimacing over the trail of small puddles the cloak had made. She dropped the offending garment to the floor and said, “Oi’ll see to getting that dried in the kitchen after oi get ye upstairs.”
“I am so sorry I am late, the coach was delayed along the road, you must be so very tired…” Exerilla offered quietly.
“That’s a good girl, some things can’t be helped,” Anne pronounced and ushered her up the staircase.
* * *
Exerilla closed her eyes briefly and whispered a quick spell to dry her wet boots before she took the carpeted stairs.
She was sure that her father could not trace this simple form of magic back to her. It was an ordinary spell and did not have her signature and would not leave enough of a residue.
Anne opened the door into a small room that was sparsely furnished. It had a corner hearth and she said with a satisfied grunt, “Oi lit that fer ye earlier, oi did, glad oi am that it still be burning. Oi’ll jest add a few coals,” she moved over and did just that, stirring them until the coals burned red hot. “There, come over and dry yer hair as best ye can and oi’ll have yer trunk brought to ye and let them know downstairs ye have arrived.”
Exerilla smiled at her, “Thanks Anne.”
“Humph, oi never heard an American speak before, very odd,” she clucked her tongue once again, as she left Exerilla to herself.
X surveyed her room. There were no hangings on the window, and the bed was no more than a cot. It would have to do. She walked over to the mirror and sighed as she surveyed her bedraggled self. A day’s traveling, and then getting nearly soaked through had not helped.
What she needed was magic.
It wasn’t fair that what she had been using all her life, what she had been trained to perfect was no longer available to her.
She wrinkled her nose and smiled mischievously and once again, and without the use of her wand, she closed her eyes and in the flash of a moment, she was dry. She looked at herself in the long mirror on the wall beside the oak wardrobe, and smoothed her gown of blue. She blinked and her long black glistening locks of hair were piled stylishly at the top of her head with several long swirls dangling about her ears.
She pinched and flattened the white lace collar and the matching cuffs, and smiled to herself. Well, that was better.
She grimaced as she remembered that her mother had selected all the clothes she had with her, which meant sturdy and prim. She would have to do something about that. She couldn’t imagine herself being sturdy and prim in any century.
A saucy smile flickered over her face as she bent to pour a bit of water from the pitcher into the bowl and dampened her hanky to wash her face.
That’s right Mom
,
too old for
prim and proper
. The cold water made her shiver.
She definitely missed hot running water.
A few moments later, two boys (whom she guessed were in their early teens), dropped her trunk in her room with a heavy plop and with open wide and toothy grins, warmly greeted her.
She took out a couple of coins and handed one to each of them, to their eye-popping delight. With a sigh, she made her way downstairs where Anne met her and led her to the parlor. At the open door, Anne folded her full arms across her middle and announced that Miss Exerilla Radley had arrived, and that she would return momentarily with a tray of refreshments. She hurried off and left Exerilla standing alone at the open doorway.
Exerilla took a tentative step inside when she was hit with conflicting vibes. A chill scurried up her spine and her instincts told her to run!
The only other woman in the room had jumped to her feet. As she came forward, hands outstretched. Exerilla had a vision of a woman in a white lace cap which covered graying brown hair, in a brown gown too dull and staid for her station.
“Oh my dear,” the woman said as she took Exerilla’s hand, “I am Mary Horwich, and I am so very pleased to welcome you to our home. Do come and meet my husband and son,” she said pulling Exerilla gently along, and glancing hopefully toward a weathered and husky man of about sixty with dark cold eyes, “Squire, this is my cousin’s ward, Exerilla Radley.”
“Eh, aye, you are late. I can’t abide tardiness,” he said witheringly.
Exerilla’s chin went up, “I am so very sorry, and I do beg your pardon. The stagecoach ran into some trouble along the way.”
He grumbled something incoherent and returned to his side table, poured another drink and took it with him to his large dark brocade winged chair.
Mary’s lashes fluttered and two pink spots appeared in her cheeks. She turned to the other gentleman in the room; Exerilla found herself looking into a pair of warm gray eyes alight with appreciation.
Softly and with great affection, Mary Horwich said, “This is my son, David.”
David went forward and inclined his head as he took Exerilla’s hand and bent to place a light kiss on her fingers. “Well then, if you are my mother’s cousin’s ward, I must also consider you a cousin…of sorts, but not enough to get in the way…” he said and his gray eyes twinkled.
Exerilla felt a wave of wariness. That was an odd thing to say upon their first meeting. She smiled and said, “Thank you, how very kind you all are.” X thought to herself,
How the heck am I going to survive this very strange and disconnected family for months on end?
“Ah, American?” He turned to his mother. “You never mentioned our guest was an American.”
Mary frowned and her hand fluttered, waving this off as she cast a furtive look at her husband, obviously concerned that he might make some objection. “Did I not?” She turned to Exerilla. “It must have been a long and trying day for you, my dear.”
David had X’s elbow as he gently maneuvered her, nudging her toward the fire, “Come sit here and warm yourself.”
Exerilla complied, but all she wanted to do was escape. When Anne reappeared laden with a tray and said, “I brought this for Miss, as she was soaked to the bone when she arrived and I thought she might enjoy a cup of tea and biscuit before she retires.”
“Thank you, Anne, very thoughtful,” Mary Horwich said quietly glancing toward her husband and obviously relieved to find that he made no objection.
“Oh Anne, thanks so much,” Exerilla said gratefully.
Mary murmured, “You think of everything, Anne.”
“Blasted good thing our housekeeper has her wits about her, for you never do,” her husband said scathingly.
Exerilla was shocked and stared at the squire disapprovingly. Holy Sweet Moly, but she was headed for a world of trouble if she was going to have to deal with poor Mary Horwich’s brute of a husband. She bit her tongue. She couldn’t turn on him on her first night. But she knew better. This was so not a good fit for her. She was bound to clash with the squire.
“
WHERE IS SHE
,
Rachel?” Exerilla’s father demanded furiously, his hand making a mess of his usually neat white-gold hair. “Do not think that because I still have deep feelings for you, I shall allow you to keep my daughter from me!”
“That is not what I am doing,” Rachel said softly.
He reached for her and brought her into his arms. Spidery veins exploded with bolts of sensation as he bent her into his body. Desire flooded through her as his mouth covered hers. That ever present flame she carried for him, ever ready for him, rose far too willingly to the occasion. She knew he loved her, but she wasn’t sure if it would be enough to save him. She had to find a way to save him, and bring him back into the light.
Rachel gently pulled away from his burning lips and looked into his black eyes. Gone were the stars she had always seen there and in their place were yellow tipped black and red flames and they were hot and angry.
She knew she would always love him, thrill to his touch, want him, and while he was like this, keep him at bay. She couldn’t do otherwise while he gave himself over to the Dark Power.
“Harlan,” she said sweetly, “I am losing you. Is that what you want? To wander into eternity alone? I had always hoped you would find your way back to me,
to us.”
“Your world is insipid. I want you and one day, I shall have you again, but
you
will come
to me
, you will be a part of my world this time. I tried yours and it was too damn lacking. I needed more
. I was meant for more
.” He shook his head, “Once my daughter is wed to Galen Debbin, she will be susceptible to the Dark Side. When she joins me, you will follow and we will all be together again.”
“That need for
more
will keep your daughter and your wife forever out of your reach. Don’t you see… Exerilla
is a white witch
; she won’t go over to the Dark. You will end alone. Is that better than ordinary?”
“I am not going to argue with you. X is also
my
daughter. She has
my genes
and
my darkness
it would do you well to remember that she was born dark!” He stared into her eyes as he shook his wife’s shoulders, “
Where is she,
Rachel?”
“I don’t know.” She wasn’t lying. She had no idea where Exerilla was at that moment. She had used her orb of time to
look,
just look and be certain her daughter was safe, but instead she found everything at Kingston House in disorder and her daughter gone, no longer connected with that broken family. She couldn’t look further without specific magic, a magic that would enable her husband to find their daughter. She was quite sick over it.
She said softly, “Harlan, Exerilla realized that you compelled her to have dinner with Galen. She knew then that you would not respect her wishes and she ran. I told her not to tell me where she was going, or to get in touch with me until after Samhain.”
“How did she break the compulsion spell I used? How could she have run without help? She was compelled!” he was momentarily diverted as a strange light of pride seeped into his eyes.
“She is your daughter and has your strengths,” Rachel catered to his ego.
He laughed, but it was a harsh sound. “In the end, she will obey me in this.” Rachel loved him and hoped he would find his way back to her, she allowed the next kiss, although it was more ruthless than loving.
He set her apart and murmured, “You will always
be mine
, Rachel.
Always.
” And in a swirl of dark mist he was gone.
She had taken a very minor chance when she had dared to look into the orb to assure her that Exerilla was adapting to her new environment. She dared not try to find her now. He would be watching and he had the tools to trace her magic to their daughter. For the time Exerilla was on her own and she was out of reach.
Though Rachel was concerned, she wasn’t seriously worried. Her daughter was a strong young woman, with the skills to think things through and find a way out of any predicament.
She hoped she had done the right thing. Would it all be too much for Exerilla—too much for too long?
Her daughter was a powerful white witch, and Rachel was certain she would be able to control her natural impulses to use her magic when difficult occasions and temptation presented themselves.
Rachel Radley was worried, her husband was quite correct. Exerilla did carry his dark genes.
She knew her daughter, and believed Exerilla would never give in to those dark temptations. She thought she was sure of this, and still a doubt flickered through her mind.
* * *
Exerilla and Anne had found some very fine dark green lengths of discarded fabric in the attic. With every intention of making drapes, Exerilla sprawled out on the floor of the drawing room, with the material spread out around her.
She looked at the fabric and then the needle and grimaced.
Who was she kidding…she couldn’t sew
!
She growled right out loud and looked around. No one was about. She may not be much with a needle and thread, but she was pretty good with easy magic. She didn’t really need her wand for a simple spell. She twinkled happily at the thought of calling on magic. It was a natural thing, like licking ones lips when one was hungry, or drinking when one was thirsty, and
damn, she was thirsty.
She blinked and one panel was done, but as she examined her handiwork and smiled over the simplicity and perfection of her magic, she sighed. Perhaps she should learn how to sew, know the joy of creating with her own hand. The door opened and displayed Anne with three gentlemen at her back. Three very familiar gentlemen.
Anne was flushed, because his lordship MacTorry was flirting outrageously with her, while the other two were jesting back and forth. She had asked them to wait in the central hall. Being who they were, they had followed Anne, unabashed to where the poor plump and older woman attempted to get control of the situation at hand.
Exerilla laughed at the chaos. Sir Jacob said with a grin, “See there, Miss Anne—isn’t it just as we said it would be? Miss Radley is pleased to see us.”
X scrambled to her feet, brushed and smoothed the clinging green material of her gown, and stood to say, “
Pleased,
is too strong an adjective to express what I feel at this moment.”
Anne replied, eyeing the gentlemen at her back glaringly, though a twinkle lit in her eye and the hint of a smile curved her lips, “Humph…now shoo, shoo.”
“Miss Radley, don’t say you won’t see us,” Sir Jacob called out jovially. “Though I understand if you would like me to show these two out…?” He indicated with a devilish grin directed at both Hunter and Jerry Swit.
“Sir Jacob! How wonderful of you to call,” X said brightly, ignoring the other two gentlemen.
“Uh-oh,” said his lordship. “Sir Jacob gets such a greeting from ye lass, and not even a glance for
me?
”
“I do heartily apologize, but I couldn’t stop these two from tagging along,” Sir Jacob said on a chuckle. “They are staying with me at the Towers and dog my every move.” He laughed at that for his lordship cast him a withering glance.
Anne cut in at this juncture and hurriedly said, “Well then, seeing as ye know these scamps, oi’ll jest go fetch a tray of coffee and biscuits.” She stopped suddenly and pushed the door open wider and added, “And seeing as Mrs. Horwich is not at home, oi’ll be leaving the door open, oi will.”
Exerilla smiled broadly and tried not to look at Hunter MacTorry. “Thank you, Anne.”
She discovered herself weak-willed and could not help a quick glance his way when she thought he wasn’t looking. Her hasty glance reminded her that his hair was just as long and silky black, as she had remembered, and his eyes, just as blue and twinkling as they had been two days before.
She still found Swit to be quite detestable.
Exerilla indicated with a wave of her fluttering fingers for the gentleman to be seated and took up a place on the brown velvet sofa. She smiled warmly toward Sir Jacob, and asked, “Are you settled in at Cressly Towers?”
“Just about. These two keep me forever larking, but I’ve managed to see my estate agent, and there is a horde of things we’ll have to attend to,” he spread out his hands, “But all in good time. It can’t be done overnight, and it is my fault for allowing the place to go to rack and ruin.” He shook his head. “Nothing that a little blunt and attention can’t set right and tight, see if it won’t.”
Exerilla only half listened to all of this as MacTorry had taken a seat beside her on the sofa and she found she couldn’t concentrate on anything or anyone else.
What the heck was wrong with her—
because something was definitely off kilter?
She just wasn’t a shy little miss.
Hunter MacTorry seemed to use up all the airspace that he inhabited. He simply sucked out all the oxygen in the room, emitting it in waves of stardust that had her enthralled. She was losing her marbles. She was sure of it, because she was finding it hard to breathe.
If that wasn’t bad enough, she could feel his blue eyes taunting her in that style that was all his own. She had this sudden urge to look into those eyes, dive into their inner depths and see just who and what he was.
She shook this fancy off and had to concentrate to stop thinking about him. He seemed so much more than human, but without her wand, she could only rely on her witch’s intuition and that told her he was
not a warlock
.
She could see his smile and she could see the line of his vision. His gaze flitted over her lips then moved slowly down over her neckline, further still and with a sudden rush of heat; she realized he was looking at her nipples poking at the material of her gown. Her nipples were hard because of him and getting tight and sensitive even though he had already and imperceptibly returned his gaze to her face.
His blue eyes penetrated and demanded she return his attention. Had he been a creature of magic, she would have been suspicious that he was attempting to use some of that magic on her. But that was ridiculous. He was not a man of magic. She was certain she felt none of the residue magic leaves behind emanating from him. His magnetism was a viable entity and seemed to define a presence about him. Oh, she had to stop this. She was letting fantasy take over her mind!
His voice was like a gentle caress as he said, “Jacob tells us you are quite the horsewoman.”
She was surprised that they talked about her. She inclined her head, wondering where he meant to take this. Although he had said it in an idle manner, she knew better. It was headed somewhere, so she was cautious in replying, “I enjoy the sport.”
“Good, then it is settled,” Swit stuck in at once, pulling up a chair to sit close enough that as he leaned onto his bent knee with his elbow, she felt he was invading her space. She wanted to kick the chair out from under him, but controlled the urge to do so.
Jerry Swit repulsed her in every imaginable way. She tried to do the polite thing and hide this fact for the sake of etiquette. She directed her question back to his lordship instead, “What is settled?”
“Jacob has a mare, ye see. She is quite a beauty, probably not worthy of the ability Jacob fancies ye have as a horsewoman. We thought, as the mare needs both exercise and manners, ye might enjoy er…
testing,
yerself on her back
.”
his lordship answered her quietly, his blue eyes never wavering from her face.
“What are you talking about? I don’t need to test myself. I think I have ridden long enough to know what I can and cannot do.” Exerilla said and then her eyes narrowed, “What is this? Another prank? No doubt you have taken wagers on how fast the mare can throw me!”
“Americans are direct, aren’t they?” Swit chortled.
His lordship grinned and shook his head. Jacob turned beet red and bowed his head to say, “Exerilla,
would I
ever consider such a thing? The mare is sweet; honestly she is and she will produce winning foals. First, she needs a bit of handling.”
She eyed him and said, “I don’t think it of you, but those two?”
“Direct and unflattering,” said his lordship with a half smile and inclination of his head.
“Perhaps, my experience has made me wary. You see, I know just who I am dealing with and what you two are capable of.” she answered, one brow raised. “And I don’t mean to be the butt of a joke.”
“Och, lass, ye canna think I would do such a thing to ye. That is not how I want to catch a woman’s attention,” his lordship looked truly disturbed at that moment.
Sir Jacob shook his head, “Exerilla, I hope you know you can trust me, always,” he said warmly, “Princess Tat is really a very fine mare. What she needs is a little time, and gentle training, and I just don’t have the time to spare.”
Exerilla eyed them, one at a time, and asked, “There are three of you; surely you could even take turns exercising her.”
“Ah, but we are already committed to Jacob’s other prime geldings, of which there are quite a number.” Swit returned on a laugh.
“That is true,” added Hunter, pausing to turn to Sir Jacob. “Jacob here has a stable full of prime blood. Lovely hunters, but they have been allowed to get fat and lazy.”