“This castle has been in our family for three hundred years,” Lord Roberts explained.
Portraits of dour relatives glared down at Ella, as if demanding to know how she had been allowed access to their privileged family. She studied each picture looking for a familiar man with dark hair. All afternoon he’d commanded her thoughts. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask about the strange garden visitor. Perhaps he’d been a disgruntled servant? But the cut of his clothing and arrogance of his stance did not suggest servitude.
“My elder brother.”
Lord Roberts’s voice broke into her thoughts. Feigning interest, she looked up to a tall portrait of a man with tousled brown hair and a wide grin.
“He looks cheerful,” she said.
Apparently, it was not the correct response.
Lord Roberts frowned and shook his head. “Disrepute. Unfortunately, the man was wild and uncontrollable. He held no interest in his heritage, or this castle. It is by his own careless selfishness that he died.”
Ella looked at Lord Roberts out of the corner of her eye, pressing her lips tightly together to keep her mouth from dropping open. She hadn’t expected such harsh damnation from a seemingly gentle man. But then there were many odd things about the Roberts household. The way her powers reacted, for one. And, of course the garden stranger.
Lord Roberts said nothing more but turned and started down yet another endless hall, and Ella was forced to hurry after him, worried she’d lose her way. “My lord, I’d like to make my good-byes to Lady Buckley before she leaves.”
He didn’t bother to look at her as he responded. “My dear, Lady Buckley left over an hour ago.”
The blood rushed from her head and Ella stopped, swerving on her feet. Alone? Utterly alone? Fran was gone? Lady Buckley had left? Was there to be no farewell? No words of encouragement or admonition?
“My dear?” Lord Roberts called out, glancing over his shoulder. Her face flushed and lifting the hem of her serviceable gown, she rushed to his side.
His bushy gray brows drew together. “Are you well?”
“Yes.” She forced a smile upon her lips and forced her mind to think of thoughts other than her sudden solitude. They were gone; there was nothing to be done. “It must be lovely, to have a family, a sense of history.”
“It is,” he said, but she didn’t miss the clouded look that crossed his faded blue eyes. “’Tis why you are here, Ella. My grandson is the next in line. I need him to be as well educated as possible when the time comes for him to take his place.”
“Of course,” Ella replied.
But the lanterns on the rock walls cast wavering shadows against the floor, demanding her attention and increasing her anxiety.
“Still, I feel I must warn you. My grandson,” Lord Roberts said, “has had a difficult life. He’s not exactly…normal.”
Ella tore her gaze from the dark hall to focus on Lord Roberts. His face was passive, but his eyes still held a sense of sadness that worried her. Against her will, her heart skipped a beat and she had to force her feet to continue forward, wondering over his ominous words.
“But I promise you, if you persevere, the reward will be well worth the effort.”
She parted her lips to question him further when he stopped outside double wooden doors carved with mystical beasts. Unicorns, dragons, elves all fought for attention like a children’s fairy tale come to life.
“Any family will hire you, Ella, upon learning you worked for me,” Lord Roberts said. “Just think, even royalty.” Before his words of promise could sink in, he reached out and pushed the doors wide.
A rush of apprehension washed over her like a chilly breeze. That feeling she’d had when she first arrived…that same feeling that had seeped in through her bedroom window. Her heart raced, but her mind stilled. Her entire body focused on the hum that started vibrating in her core. A beast, a beast in dire need, a beast confused, angry, hurt.
“Do not be afraid, my dear,” Lord Roberts said, slipping her arm through the crook of his elbow and leading her into the room.
Afraid? Afraid! Why should she be afraid?
A crash made her jump. Even Lord Roberts tightened his hold. Blimey, is that where the noise had come from? Lord Roberts’s grandson?
“My lord, I do not have great experience with children.” Her face heated at the lie. “I mean, of boys, in particular.”
“Oh, that won’t matter much, my dear.”
He pulled her further into the gold room, her slippered feet whispering their resistance against the cold, marble floor.
“W—where is he?” Her gaze swept the pastel landscape murals on the walls, up to the ceiling where fat cherubs grinned down at her, demented sprites mocking her plight.
Her mind buzzed as a rush of emotion swept into her, then back out, like waves at sea. She couldn’t seem to catch hold of anything, merely hints of anger, frustration, sorrow, and resentment. Another crash resounded from beside her. Ella spun around. An empty easel was propped in the corner of the room, under the glow of wall sconces. Movement near the windows caught her attention.
A man. The man from the garden.
Dark hair glistened in the low candlelight, his broad back to her. Her body froze, her thoughts spinning.
“I thought I’d created him in my mind,” she whispered.
“You’ve met?” Lord Roberts turned to her, confusion in his eyes.
“No, I saw him this evening. He seemed to be…” What was the right word? “Overwrought about something.”
With what could only be called a growl, he tossed a paint-splattered canvas outside.
“Oh my,” she gasped. “He seems rather upset now, too. Who is he?”
“My grandson, Leo.”
Ella’s stomach sank. “I see. And your other grandson, the one I will be teaching, is he here?” She pulled away and studied the room. It was empty.
The old man’s face flushed a telling shade of red. “Ah, yes. Well, you see—”
“My lord,” a servant whispered from the hall. He darted a glance at Lord Roberts’s grandson and scampered back, cowering behind the doors.
“Yes? What is it?” Lord Roberts strolled toward the hall. Ella resisted the urge to cling to the man, to beg him not to leave her alone, to beg him to send a rider for Lady Buckley.
As if sensing her vulnerability, Leo spun away from the window and faced her. Ella’s heart jumped into her throat. The set of his square jaw made him appear fierce, yet she could not ignore the handsome features that pulled together in a face that would inspire Michelangelo. His attention swept over her form, leaving behind a trail of heat that pulsed unwanted through her body.
Dear Lord, he wore only trousers and a white shirt, spattered in paint and completely unbuttoned. She couldn’t stop her gaze from traveling the trail of hair that swept down his muscled chest. Her body tingled and her gaze jumped back to his face. His wavy locks hung wildly about his shoulders. His body was tight, tense—like a beast prepared for an attack. Surely he wouldn’t harm her.
With long, purposeful strides, he shortened the distance between them. And she couldn’t move, couldn’t move a bloody step, fear and something else holding her captive. Nearer…nearer. Would he stop or knock her over?
Then their gazes met, and any thought of escape fled. Suddenly nothing existed. Ella fell into a warm pool of gold. An eerie gold that glowed from his eyes, pulling her under, drowning in emotion and leaving her gasping for breath. It was coming from him…the emotion…the need…the pain.
Birds, rabbits, even a fox, but never had she been able to read a person’s emotions. Mesmerized, she didn’t move a muscle when he stopped only a foot away, looming over her like some archangel come to take her soul. Was the floor still beneath her feet or was she falling? The room seemed to spin as his scent swirled around her: sea salt, pine, and male; him.
“It is nice to meet you,” she somehow managed to get past her lips.
His eyes narrowed into slits and his nostrils flared, his breath a soft whisper as he inhaled deeply. Slowly, he moved around her as if she were prey and he the hunter. He stepped close, too close. With his chest hot to her back, his essence seeped into her skin. His fingers brushed her nape, wrapped around a loose lock, and the fine hairs on her neck stood on end. She heard the distinct intake of breath, as if he smelled the strands. Paralyzed from fright and from another foreign emotion, Ella couldn’t move. Her heart hammered in her ears, drowning out every sound but her own harsh breathing.
He leaned forward, and the side of his face, rough with a day’s growth of whiskers, brushed against the sensitive skin of her neck. She closed her eyes, feeling every muscled contour of his body, every heated limb, every soft breath he took. Strange physical sensations pulsed through her veins, a deep aching need for only God knew what. Want, desire, anger so intense, her knees quivered and she feared she would sink to the ground in a dead faint.
“Leo,” Lord Roberts called out. The tap of the old man’s cane sounded muddled through the fog of her exotic reality. Part of her was weak with relief when Lord Roberts appeared, yet a small part, deep down inside, was strangely eager to see what this Leo would do next.
“I see you have met your new governess,” Lord Roberts said.
Governess?
As if Leo were a boy when in fact he was a man, a very grown man.
His hold on her hair tightened, and she resisted the urge to squeak.
The old man’s eyes flickered uneasily from her face to his grandson. “I believe Miss Finch would like to rest.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Ella studied her ward. His jaw clenched, but he released his hold on her hair. With a curl of his lips and a stiff jerk of his arm, he pointed toward the hall.
“Right, of course, you would like some time alone. Well then, shall we?” Lord Roberts tugged her toward the open doors.
Her shoulder brushed against Leo’s hard chest, and shivers raced all the way to her toes. Confused by her strange reaction, she stole a glance back as Lord Roberts led her from the room. Leo stood there, his hands on his slim hips as if sizing her up for the kill. As Lady Buckley had promised, she was indeed being punished by God.
Lord Roberts closed the doors and shut the man from view. The surge of emotion and heat receded, leaving her trembling and cold.
The sobs echoed in Ella’s mind over and over until she wanted to tear the hair from her scalp merely to feel something other than the sorrow that had embedded into her soul. She squeezed her eyes shut and bent the bolster around her head to cover her ears. But the action provided no relief from the emotional onslaught. If anything, closing her eyes heightened the cries of horror and flashes of blood swirling through her mind in a fog of painful memories.
His
memories.
Not the past life of a deer, a rabbit, a bird. But memories of a boy who’d seen much more than any soul should witness.
You must be brave, Leo
. The woman whispered over and over through her mind.
You must be brave
. His mum, she was sure, for she could see the woman with her golden hair and blue gaze as clearly as if she were standing in front of her. And just as quickly as she’d appeared, another memory flashed to mind…the same woman, on the ground with a pool of scarlet blood beneath her.
Ella choked on a sob and dared to open her eyes. Gray dawn’s boney fingers crept through the cracks in the drapes, warning of daylight’s imminent arrival. Nothing else remained…no bodies lying in pools of blood, no men fighting, merely a richly furnished room.
Her head ached with exhaustion. No wild animal had provided her with such painful memories. Only a human could store such grief, such horror…horror that frightened her as much as it tore at her gut.
She couldn’t stay here with these people. She couldn’t stay here with that man. She couldn’t stay here with such confusing emotions stabbing through her mind with every beat of her heart. Emotions she’d never felt before and knew were wrong.
She slipped from her bed, grasping the post when her weak knees refused to lock. Anger and sorrow hovered inside the castle like an oppressive fog. Whatever had happened in the past, she wanted no part.
She wrapped her fingers around the handle of her carpetbag, the strong sturdiness of the wooden grip bringing strength to her backbone. Without dwelling on her fear, she slipped into the hall. What would she do if she ran into Leo in these dark passages? Fear tickled the back of her neck like a whisper of warning. Silently, she slipped from shadow to shadow, making her way along the corridor. Reaching the steps, she peered down the sweeping staircase to the door.
“He’s disappeared again, my lord,” a male voice floated up to the second floor.
Ella knelt behind the banister and peeked between the railings. An early ray of sunlight pierced the small stained-glass window at the front of the entryway, splashing the hardwood floor with brilliant colors—a rainbow out of place in the dark and dreary home.
“His bed hasn’t been slept in?” Lord Roberts asked, stepping into view.
“No, my lord,” the butler replied.
The old man sighed. “He’ll turn up, Samson. He always does.”
The servant bowed and left. Lord Roberts stared at the door as if willing his grandson to appear. Finally, he shuffled down the hall. Pity sliced through Ella, and she took her lower lip between her teeth. Blast it, she wouldn’t feel sorry for a man who lied. Leo was no child, but a man. How could Lord Roberts possibly think she’d take the position? Her reputation would be shattered. Even if no one else seemed to care, she did.
Without a backward glance, she tripped down the steps and out the front door. Free, she hiked up her skirt and layers of crinoline and raced down the drive. Birds darted out of trees, stirred by her anxiety. She didn’t stop until she saw the iron gates ahead. Winded, she dropped her bag and leaned against the bars, gasping for air. She jerked on the handles. The gates didn’t budge. Locked.
She was trapped.
“No,” she cried, resting her forehead on the cool metal for the briefest of moments.
She pushed away, stumbling back. Surely there was somewhere to escape. She snatched up her bag and followed the fence into a patch of trees.
“Ridiculous,” she whispered, pulling up her skirt and stepping over a root. Was the entire property fenced? Unease made her skin crawl. Surely they didn’t keep their servants under lock and key? Ignoring the anxiety, she brushed aside a low-hanging branch and spotted a narrow trail.
“Thank God.”
Brown sparrows chirped and darted through the trees, the only sign of life in the still forest. A soft snap rent the air. Before she could react, her bag fell with a thud to the ground. She stared at the handle, broken off in her palm.
“No!” she cried out, dropping the handle. “No, no, no!” She collapsed onto the forest floor. Petticoats and skirts spilled onto the dirt, leaves stuck to clothing that only yesterday morning Fran had so carefully folded. Ella choked on a sob.
She had nowhere to go.
Nowhere.
Warm tears slipped down her cheeks. She pulled up her legs and rested her forehead on her knees, too tired to move or care. What would she do? Where would she go? A sudden throb pulsed at the base of her core. Ella stiffened, not daring to raise her head. The forest was quiet.
Too quiet.
Turning her senses inward, she recognized him immediately. A warm trail of need spiraled in her body, lighting her soul. The same heated sensation that pulled her under in the ballroom. She focused on that emotion, trying to make sense of the desire. Her body began to ache, spreading down her limbs and pooling in the pit of her belly. But underneath that need pulsed an overwhelming sense of anger and despair. Trembling, she lifted her head.
Ella couldn’t prevent the gasp from escaping her lips. He sat at the foot of a tree and watched her from the shadows, his face unreadable. Dear Lord, would he murder her right where she knelt, where no one could hear her screams? Surely…surely he wouldn’t harm her. Lord Roberts said he wouldn’t. Then again, Lord Roberts had said many things that weren’t exactly true. Desperately, she attempted to make sense of her emotions, to read the man’s intentions, but fear made deciphering impossible.
Like an agile cat, Leo rolled to his feet. He started toward her and Ella couldn’t prevent the slight squeak that escaped her lips. Slowly, as if
she
were some wild animal he feared frightening, he knelt in front of her. A long, dark lock caressed the side of his jaw. Their eyes met and her body tingled, starting at her toes and shivering its way up her legs like a caress from an invisible lover. She couldn’t seem to look away. In those eerie amber eyes, she could feel his pain, but there was something else…a deep aching need…for what?
Gently, he reached out and brushed his thumb across the side of her cheek. Her mouth went dry. Yet, at the same time, the touch sent a comforting warmth through her body and she knew no harm would come from his large hands. When he pulled away, dirt marked his thumb.
Ella flushed, shifting backward, away from his nearness and the uncomfortable feelings he produced. “I…I don’t usually sit on the forest floor.”
He didn’t respond. Her gaze narrowed; did he understand her?
“I—I must look a fright.” She reached up to her cheek and felt the rough texture of dirt embedded in her skin.
His gaze moved from her eyes, lower to her lips, even lower still so that he scanned her entire body. The heat covering her skin burst into flames. She swallowed hard, resisting the urge to scoot back even further.
Suddenly, he reached out and before she could move, before she could protest, he scooped her up in his arms. Stiff, Ella reluctantly settled against his hard body, too afraid to protest. Her heart thundered as he carried her through the forest. What was he thinking? Under her knees and around her back, she felt the hard muscles of his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. She didn’t dare move.
He ducked under a branch and she tucked her head to his shoulder, avoiding the leaves. She didn’t understand this man, didn’t understand his actions. His heart beat against her cheek, strong and healthy. Unwillingly, she breathed in his scent and felt as if she were falling into a warm pool of earthy pine and salty air. A lovely scent she would never have expected.
She peeked at him through her lashes. His jaw was square, lightly sprinkled with dark hair as if he hadn’t shaved in some time. Her fingers tingled, resisting the urge to reach up and touch the scruff just to see how it felt.
Slowly, her attention moved to his mouth and that heat flared low in her belly. She sucked in a breath. His bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top. Were they soft? Or as hard as they looked? She jerked her gaze away.
Blimey!
What was she doing allowing him to carry her? She should demand he release her at once.
The roar of water broke through the pounding of her heart. A small waterfall rushed over moss-covered rocks while ferns as tall as her waist thrived around the crystalline spring. She’d never seen anything so wonderful. Lady Buckley’s small estate certainly didn’t hold such beauty.
“It’s stunning,” she whispered, forgetting her unease.
His hold loosened, and she slid down his hard body, each inch sending warm currents over her skin. Had her feet landed, or was she floating? Her fingers dug into his hard biceps for support, and finally she met his gaze. Lightning shot through to her core. She stumbled back, gasping for air.
Distance. She needed distance from the man in order to gather her thoughts, control her emotions and power. She scampered onto a large boulder and knelt by the pool. Away from him, she could finally breathe, finally think. She scooped up water and rubbed at her face, taking relief in the cool liquid. Why? Why did he produce such emotions from her? It made no sense.
He didn’t move, but she knew he watched. She could feel his attention burning into her back. She pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and dried her cheek. Finally, she turned to face him.
“Can you speak?”
He didn’t respond.
Peering into his amber eyes, she tried to discern the truth. She felt curiosity from the man, anger, resolution. So many conflicting emotions her mind spun. But when she tried to delve deeper…to soothe the beast, nothing. Pain sliced through her head, and she cringed, sitting back on her heels. Why was it she could easily read the minds of animals and control the beasts of the forests, but this man seemed impossible to tame? But then, she’d never been able to read a human and wasn’t quite sure of the rules.
“Can you say any words, at all?” she tried again. A light and airy breeze rushed through her body. Humor? Was he amused? Blast, but she could see nothing in his eyes.
“Leo,” she heard and spun around to see Lord Roberts push through the branches. “Thank God, I was worried….” His gaze landed on her, and he stilled. “Ella, I thought you had left.”
She flushed and twisted the handkerchief in her hands, horrified to be caught with Lord Roberts’s grandson in such an intimate setting. “I did.”
“Oh, I see.”
An uncomfortable silence settled around them. Leo stood and without a word disappeared into the trees, melting into the shadows.
“Where’s he going?” she asked, stumbling to her feet.
Lord Roberts stared after his grandson, the area between his bushy white brows creased with obvious worry. “I don’t know. I never do, with him.” Those pale blue eyes pierced her. “Ella dear, I know you must be angry.” Ella stiffened and steeled herself for his words of apology. “But you must understand, the way he’s reacted to you…he’s never reacted to anyone as well before.”
“How many others have there been?”
Lord Roberts sighed. “Over a dozen at last count. Men and women. The men were literally thrown out of the house.”
Ella sucked in a breath, her hands tightening on her twisted handkerchief.
“Or,” he continued, “they were too frightened and were easily overwhelmed. The women, well, most just fled the first time they met him.”
Honestly, she didn’t blame the others for running. Was she insane not to follow their lead? Her gaze went once again to those shadowy trees. There was something about Leo—a lost soul begging to be found—that pulled to her. Could he truly be as horrible as he seemed? He’d been so gentle when he’d carried her. And when she looked into his eyes, well, she felt as if there were so much more to this man. “Lord Roberts, what’s wrong with him?”
He sighed and with a monogrammed handkerchief, dabbed a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Physically, nothing that the doctors can uncover. His mind, ah, his mind. My grandson’s childhood is a mysterious void that has left him damaged. What happened and how it affected Leo no one but he can tell. I can only imagine what horrors he must have endured.”
But she knew. Vaguely, but she still knew. Death, horror, sorrow so deep it was shocking he’d lived through the pain. Still, how could Lord Roberts not know? “But—”
Lord Roberts held up his hand, stopping her. “I do not know how I can convince you. But I will do whatever it takes to bring my grandson back to me and I believe you are the one who can help. Whatever you want. Perhaps a cottage by the sea?”
Her heart skipped a beat. How did he know?
“Perhaps assistance and rest for the friend who works for Lady Buckley? I noticed how close you seemed. I will buy you a cottage and send her there right now, Ella. I will hire a servant to take care of her. I promise. And if you stay here for one year, I will make sure you own that cottage in the end.”
She gazed over the man’s shoulder to see that the fence had ended. She could leave, dash through the trees, and never return. But how would she survive with no letter of recommendation? If she stayed, Fran wouldn’t have to work. Her health would improve, and they’d live out their dream. It’d seemed like an impossible fantasy, until now. She looked at the trail where Leo had disappeared. He’d had his chance to harm her, yet hadn’t.
“Six months,” she blurted.
Lord Roberts smiled. “Done. I’ll have my solicitors find you a cottage today and I’ll send the carriage for your friend.”
“Lord Roberts,” she called out as he moved to leave. “I must know. Did you uncover my desires in order to manipulate me into staying?”
“Not manipulate you, Ella. You’ll realize in the end that this is for your benefit as well. I promise you, my grandson is not the monster you think.”