Chapter Seven
Leah stared at Ranulph, her eyes wide and shaken. “My beauty?”
He winced inwardly at her distress, but it was necessary. He’d set the order of the choices deliberately, knowing that her first reaction to leaving her own kind would be refusal. Only after hearing all the choices would she take his proposal seriously.
Careful to keep all sympathy from his voice, he said coolly, “Don’t play the fool, Leah. Refuse me, and you’ll become again the plain creature you were before. Dull and colorless, almost invisible. Most people will not really understand the change, though anyone who saw you during your London triumphs will be unable to remember why he thought you such a great beauty then.”
His voice dropped. “But your suitor will remember. He’ll look at you with shock and revulsion. How many times did Captain Townley praise your beauty? How often did he murmur in your ear about your loveliness? When your beauty vanishes, so will his love. You will live the rest of your life alone and despised.”
He gave a bored shrug. “I suppose that since masculine honor is involved, you may be able to hold him to the betrothal. In that case, you will have the pleasure of living with a man who despises you for deceiving him.”
Her eyes, an emerald mirror of his own, filled with tears until she closed them. Her exquisitely expressive face revealed that she was imagining exactly what Ranulph had described: rejection by her lover, a return to her empty existence.
Judging it time to change his tactics, he said softly, “Now do you understand why I said that becoming my consort was the best choice? Come with me and I shall give you passion and beauty beyond your wildest imaginings. Great caves shimmering with secret jewels. Forests with a majesty that would humble the greatest human cathedral. We’ll ride the wind and sing the seas, and you shall never regret your decision.”
Confident that the web of words he’d spun would change Leah’s mind, he stepped forward and took her hand between both of his. Goddess, but she was lovely. He felt himself hardening with desire. Passion would sweep away the last of her doubts.
He drew her into a kiss. Her mouth was soft, her scent as fresh as spring flowers. He used all his erotic skills, he focused all his desire, weaving an enchantment that would leave her begging for more.
But it didn’t work. She tore herself away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand in revulsion. “Do you think I could ever prefer your touch to that of Duncan?” She lifted her harp and clutched it like a talisman against harm. “Perhaps you can cloud my mind with magic, but I will never be your whore voluntarily.”
He stared at her, shocked that she could resist his sensual spell. Who would have thought that she had such strength? He produced his magic mirror with a snap of his fingers and held it up as a reminder of what she had looked like. Ruthlessly he used an image of her at her worst, with her eyes swollen and her nose pink from crying. “Is this what you choose?” he said cruelly. “Or will it be your lover’s heart?”
She paled at the image in the mirror, but said resolutely, “Return me to what I was, Lord Ranulph. I was plain all of my life. I . . . I can learn to be plain again.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying!” he exclaimed, incredulous. “It was bad enough to have no looks before, but now you have known the delights of beauty. The adoration, the power, the fame. To lose those things after briefly tasting them will be infinitely more painful than never to have known them.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” she cried out, clutching the harp even tighter. “But I can bear it. I shall have to, since both your other choices are unthinkable. I could never harm Duncan, nor any other innocent. Nor can I give up my whole world to become the slave of a creature who is as beautiful and alien as a tiger.”
“I want you for my consort, not my slave!” he snapped in a voice like a whip.
“Isn’t it slavery if I go against my will?” Her mouth twisted. “You and I are made of different stuff, Lord Ranulph. You think beauty more valuable than freedom, more precious than another person’s life. I can no more understand that than you can understand me. Goodbye, my lord. I presume that by the time I reach my home, I will be plain again, and our bargain will be fulfilled.”
She slipped away from him and headed across the glade. Before entering the woods, she paused to say quietly, “I . . . I’m sorry that I cannot be what you wish.”
Stunned that she was really leaving, for an instant he stood frozen. Then he gave a wild shout of anger.
“No!”
He flung both arms to the heavens, and thunder boomed from the clear autumn sky, rolling across the wood with a force that shook the trees. Leah flinched, and he saw alarm in her eyes.
Realizing that if she feared him all hope was gone, he said tightly, “I shall not harm you, Leah. Not now, not ever. If ever you become disenchanted with being plain and lonely and despised, you know how to summon me.”
She gave a faint nod of her head, but he knew with despair that she would never change her mind. Except for her music, she was as much a mystery to him as he was to her. Was that because she was a mortal, or simply because she was female?
Saturated with pain, he watched her disappear among the trees. She was gone, and he was alone.
Then rage returned. With a gesture of his hand, he removed the faery glamour that had dazzled all of London. Viciously he contemplated how her lover would react to the discovery that his ravishing betrothed was now as plain as a barn mouse.
The restless churn of his anger turned toward Kamana.
Damn
the treacherous female! Her predictions that Leah would come to him were empty, more of her mocking games. She would answer to him for her lies. She had power, but he was her equal. She would be unable to refuse if he summoned her.
He closed his eyes and visualized Kamana until her exotic, teasing image was burned in his brain. Then he uttered the words of Power that would bring her to him, against her will if necessary.
She’d pay for her interference and lies, the traitorous witch. Aye, she’d pay.
Leah was still shaking when she reached home. Not wanting anyone to see the tears on her face, she crept up the back stairs and into her bedroom.
Shadow still lay on the bed. At Leah’s entrance, the cat opened her eyes and gazed at her fixedly. Leah tried to smile. “Don’t tell me that you’ll abandon me, too. I would have thought that at least my cat would accept me as I am now.”
Shadow leaped from the bed and came to rub Leah’s ankles, purring warmly. A little comforted, Leah scratched the cat’s neck.
Then she turned to her mirror. Any faint hope she’d harbored that Ranulph might not exact his price died. Drab hair, thin figure, ordinary gray-green eyes reddened from tears. She glanced at her left palm. In the center, she could still see the faint iridescent glimmer of the cut Ranulph had made when they’d sealed their bargain. Apparently it would be the only lasting sign of what she had been.
She inhaled painfully and forced herself to stare at her reflection. Had he made her plainer than before, or did her appearance seem worse because of the contrast to what she had been? No matter. This was the face she was born with, and would die with. She reminded herself that she’d had no real choice. Murder was unthinkable, and so was going into whatever strange, inhuman netherworld Ranulph called home.
She winced as she remembered Duncan’s worshipful gaze, the number of times he’d told her that she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He was too much a gentleman to break his pledged word when he saw what she had become, but Ranulph was right. It would be even worse to live with Duncan and know that he despised her than to live without him. She must release him from the betrothal.
The thought of losing him shattered her last shreds of composure. She threw herself onto the bed, sobbing uncontrollably. Shadow followed and touched her cool nose to Leah’s cheek, but that did nothing to allay the pain. Merciful heaven, Leah would have been better off if she’d never met Ranulph of the Wood, or if she had been wise enough to refuse his damnable bargain.
Or would she? She rolled onto her side and cradled the cat’s warm, fluffy body. The cost of Ranulph’s bargain had been bitterly high, but she had learned what it was to be beautiful, and that beauty was not an unalloyed blessing. She wouldn’t miss the hungry stares of strangers, or the resentment of other woman.
Nor would she miss the endless balls and parties. After the first excitement of being admired had worn off, she’d realized that she was simply not a very sociable creature. She preferred a country life with her music and a small circle of friends, and would no longer yearn for the delights of London.
And Ranulph’s bargain had allowed her to learn the joy of loving. Someday, when the anguish lessened, she would be glad of that.
But now the wound was still too raw. She buried her face in Shadow’s silken fur and wept.
Exhausted by tears, Leah dozed. She was jerked awake when one of the housemaids tapped at her door. “Miss Leah, there’s a fine young gentleman called Captain Townley here to see you,” the girl called through the door. She giggled. “He’s just spoken to your father. Is there going to be an announcement?”
Leah pushed herself upright with a gasp of shock. Dear Lord, Duncan had already arrived and asked her father for her hand! She had thought he wouldn’t come until tomorrow at the earliest. But he was impatient, as she had been.
She raked her fingers through her hair. She couldn’t possibly see him like this. In fact, perhaps it would be best to write him a note. She’d apologize profusely and say that after serious consideration she had decided that they would not suit.
An image appeared in her mind of what his expression would be when he read such a letter. She realized that Shadow was staring at her, disapproval in the great golden eyes. The cat was right. It would be unforgivable to take the coward’s way out and leave Duncan to a lifetime of wondering what had gone wrong. When he saw her, his love would evaporate painlessly, leaving him free of the misery that tormented her. She could find some small solace in that.
“Miss Leah?” the maid called again. “Aren’t you in there?”
“Ask Captain Townley to wait in the morning room,” Leah replied in a strained voice. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
She went to her washstand and splashed her face with cold water to reduce the redness. For pride’s sake, she would look no worse than absolutely necessary. Luckily, her apple green gown was very pretty, one of her London acquisitions, and it made the best of her slight figure and fair complexion. Her hair was a disaster, so she combed it out and tied it back simply with a green ribbon, leaving it soft around her face.
Shadow was watching again. In her mind, Leah heard the words
Beauty is as much confidence as it is physical perfection.
Leah blinked, realizing that was true. Lady Wheaton was not a classic beauty, but her graceful posture and confidence always made heads turn when she entered a room. Leah had carried herself differently after she’d become accustomed to her faery beauty.
Remembering how she had felt when she made an entrance and known that all eyes were on her, she raised her head proudly. She would not hold Duncan against his will, and she would not weep in front of him.
Farewell.
Shadow was suddenly next to Leah, the golden eyes somber.
Leah swallowed hard at this unexpected loss. “I’m going to lose you, too, aren’t I? You came with Ranulph’s magic, and now you must leave since it is gone.”
Sorrowfully she lifted the cat for a last hug. As she did, the image of a kitten appeared in her mind. A playful black kitten who would dance into Leah’s heart, and soon. The knowledge was some comfort, though Leah knew there would never be another cat like Shadow.
After setting Shadow on the bed, Leah opened the casement, though if the cat was of Faerie, she probably didn’t need an open window to leave. Then Leah headed toward the door. With black humor, she told herself that Duncan would be lucky to escape her, since clearly a woman who held imaginary conversations with her cat was half mad.
As she left the room, she felt a comforting warmth in her mind, almost like a purr.
Since the morning room faced east, it was dim this late in the day. Leah entered to find Duncan standing in front of the window, his broad-shouldered form a dark silhouette. Even when he turned, his features were too shadowed for her to read. That was a small mercy, she decided. “Good day, Duncan.”
“Leah.” He bowed, but didn’t come to her.
Her heart died a little when she saw the ominous rigidity in his figure. He must be shocked by her drab appearance. She halted in the middle of the room, reminding herself to keep her head high. She could not change her looks, but she could at least behave with dignity. “You’ve spoken with my father?”
“Yes, and he gave his blessing willingly. But”—Duncan hesitated, then said in a rush of words—“before I make a formal offer, there is something I must say.”