Fascinated (5 page)

“Have you any notion what the purpose of this enchantment might be?” Smith asked.

Carstairs shook his head. “I had no time to make a proper examination. It was very subtle, but very strong.”

“Strong enough to throw a cloak of humanity over a Fae changeling? Perhaps even convince her she is a human girl?”

Carstairs’s fists knotted as he struggled to control his temper. Of course the captain asked the question. Given Carstairs’s history of weakness, Smith had to ascertain whether he was seeing clearly this time, just as Rathe had.

“I am sure she is no changeling.” Carstairs had looked deep into Alicia’s eyes before he’d kissed her. The truth of a Fae’s nature lay in their eyes. They were always filled with impossible promises and beauties. This was the creatures’ ultimate lure and their ultimate weakness. If Alicia had been even part Fae, she never would have permitted him to meet her gaze and still be free to speak of it afterward.

Smith nodded, and sighed. “At another time, we might dismiss this as a small mystery to be pursued as time and leisure permit. But with the events surrounding the birth of the new princess having come so close to disaster, we cannot afford to ignore the smallest irregularity, especially when it touches so close to home for one of our agents.”

“No, sir.” Carstairs bowed in acknowledgment of this truth. “How do you wish to proceed?”

Smith twirled his glass for a moment in his long, dexterous fingers. “We need more information,” he said. “And you, Carstairs, are the one best placed to get it. Fortunately, now that your engagement has been officially announced, custom allows you leeway in calling on your betrothed, and you can reasonably be seen to escort her about under lighter chaperonage. You should avail yourself of these opportunities. See her alone, and often. Draw her out about her background and her upbringing.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But remain alert, Carstairs. You are one of our most powerful and experienced men, and our enemies have attacked Catalysts before. We must not discount the possibility that this is an attempt by the enemy to get at you.”
Especially considering your family history.
The captain, of course, did not say this. He did not have to. He had attended Nicholas’s funeral.

Carstairs tried to think clearly about Alicia. But what came at once to mind was the sensation of her soft ass pressed against his groin; the warm curves of her body, which was both strong and delicate, in the circle of his arms; the light touch of her palm directly over his heart. A hot shudder ran up his spine, and his cock twitched again, as if angry at being reminded what it could not have. Damn it, he was too old, too seasoned, to be distracted by a woman’s body when there was work to be done. Especially when that work involved the woman herself.

Smith regarded him carefully. “It’s a delicate game to be playing, Carstairs, and not entirely a gentlemanly one. If you prefer, we’ll use another route, and organize a credible way to dissolve the engagement so it brings no discredit on the lady.”

That, of course, would be safest. His thoughts about Alicia Hartwell were already leading him in dangerous directions. It was more than the stirrings of lust that worried him. It was the stirrings of pity and genuine admiration. He sensed a strength and sorrow in Alicia that were both unexpected. He’d come here because he needed to report to his superior, but also because he wanted to help her. This, of course, was a natural reaction to finding a prisoner. But the Fae played upon the finer emotions—chivalry, generosity, love and desire, as well as the base feelings of greed and lust. Was Alicia Hartwell truly a prisoner, or a honeyed trap? Could she be both?

“Well, Carstairs?” asked Smith.

Carstairs opened his mouth, uncertain what he would say. In that moment, an idea came to him that was audacious, fully formed and very, very dangerous.

“Sir…one way to avoid a trap is to spring it early. It throws the enemy into confusion and makes them careless.”

Smith’s eyebrows arced in a rare expression of surprise. “Do you think you can spring the trap of Alicia Hartwell?”

“I do. The family has gone through a great deal of trouble to make sure this is a public and proper engagement. They have kept me away from Alicia, and they are counting on having three more weeks of us apart while the banns are published. What if we were married sooner?”

“An elopement?”

Carstairs nodded. Smith steepled his fingers and gazed off into the distance. When he spoke, it was slowly and guardedly, as if he had to examine each word before it could be uttered. “There is every possibility someone in her family laid this enchantment over her, either through exercise of their own powers or by opening the way for a Fae agent. It might indeed be worthwhile to separate her from them.” He paused. “The Hartwells will pursue you, of course.”

Carstairs shrugged. “Let them. They’ll be expecting me to take her to Gretna Green. But I shall have her safe in my London house until we can be sure of her…condition.”

“If she has been touched by the Fae or their agents, she could be extremely dangerous. Your house is fully warded?”

“Of course.”

“We’ll double-check that. Very well.” The captain grew brisk. “You may put your plan into action. Let us know what assistance you require.”

“Thank you, sir.” Carstairs bowed and turned to go.

“Be careful,” said the captain to his back. “You have hardened your heart in these past years, but the Fae Queen and her subjects are expert at cracking such stones.”

“I will be careful,” Carstairs replied without turning around. He did not want his captain to see he was less than confident as he spoke those words.

He retrieved his hat and stick and stepped out into the dark street. The night air was warm and heavy with approaching rain. No cabs or chairs were in evidence at this hour. He’d have to walk home. But Carstairs found he didn’t mind. Exercise and fresh air would help him think.

He had watched Alicia in the conservatory before she became aware of his presence. He had seen how she shivered and stared at the couple in the arbor, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. This was not the reaction of a sheltered miss whose delicate sensibilities were shocked by the sight of a man devouring his intended’s pussy. Far from it. It was the struggle of one who’d lost the power of movement, because the sight of such erotic abandon held her fascinated.

It was a fascination he himself understood very well. Even now, as he replayed the whole scene in his mind, Carstairs felt his cock swell, fast and hard. Imagination enhanced memory. He stole up behind Alicia, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. In his less gentlemanly moments, he had always suspected his bride-to-be concealed a sweet and shapely ass under her skirts, and now he knew he’d been correct. She would sigh and rub against him, letting his hands roam freely across her belly and breasts while together they watched Julian disrobe and Melissa lay back, stroking herself to see how her man had grown so hard
from pleasuring her. Melissa would part her thighs and her folds with her white hands, showing Julian how wet and ready she was. Carstairs would find Alicia’s pussy with his hand. He would press her and cup her, all the while rubbing his cock against her ass until she moaned and begged in harsh whispers for him to lift her skirts.

And if he did not stop thinking like this, he was going to be good for nothing but a visit to Mrs. Hamilton’s house, which catered to those who shared a taste for watching, and being watched.

At the time, Carstairs had thought he was witnessing his fiancée discover a secret desire of a sort he happened to share. But now he had to consider the evening’s events in a different light. What if Alicia’s feelings had not been genuine? What if her desire had been magically imposed on her in order to lure Carstairs closer?

But that made no sense, because that desire had been what alerted him to the subtle enchantment in the first place. He’d felt it straining to hold her in check as she returned his kiss. And if the enchantment’s purpose had been to bring him closer, why had her family kept them apart?

As Carstairs turned all this over in his mind, a fresh idea came to him. He smiled sharply at the darkness as he reversed his direction, heading now for a very different neighborhood of the city from the one that held his family’s London home. It seemed he needed to visit to Mrs. Hamilton’s house tonight after all.

W
hen Alicia came downstairs the next the morning, only part of the family was at the table. Custom and convenience made breakfast at Hartwell House a relatively casual affair. Her aunts Hester, Eugenia and Mary occupied the far end of the table. Alicia’s older, married cousins Henry and Francis sat at the other end with her guardian uncles, Morris and Gavin. The men talked in their dull, laconic way of horses and racing. Arthur and Lucius were probably still in bed, kept there by an excess of drink. Hortence, Louise and Julia were also probably still in bed, but from nerves and an excess of delicacy rather than drink.

Only Verity did more than turn a head as Alicia entered the dining room. “Good morning!” Her cousin smiled up at Alicia from her seat exactly halfway between the uncles’ camp and the aunts’.

“Good morning, Verity,” Alicia said, helping herself to muffins and fillet of sole from the sideboard. Verity’s face fell. Clearly, she’d been expecting something more, but Alicia had no idea what
that might be. It wasn’t as if Verity needed any news from last night’s ball. Verity had been at her side almost the entire time that Alicia could remember.

“It’s about time.” Aunt Eugenia sniffed. Alicia had never heard her speak of anything in tones of approval, much less seen her smile. “We were beginning to think you were having the vapors or some such nonsense after last night.”

“Wasn’t it all lovely?” Aunt Mary beamed. She was the smallest and plumpest of the aunts, and always sounded cheerful. Even Alicia, however, could tell that cheerfulness was a pretense, and she had never understood it. Perhaps the little, round woman felt she had to make up for her older sisters’ unrelenting severity. “And you did conduct yourself very well, Alicia. I’m sure Lord Carstairs considers himself a very fortunate man this morning.”

“So we all hope,” said Aunt Hester quietly. “What is your opinion on the subject, Alicia?” Aunt Hester turned her hooded eyes to her nieces.

She’s looking for something,
Alicia thought.
She’s always looking for something.

“Lord Carstairs will feel and behave just as a gentleman should,” Alicia said aloud. And he had. They had danced and conversed and…and…there had been something else, but Alicia found that, unaccountably, she could not remember what it was.

“You have no regrets? No sudden attack of nerves?” Aunt Hester’s eyes narrowed.

“None, Aunt. Why do you ask?”

Aunt Hester lifted her coffee cup and smiled. That smile seemed to Alicia even thinner and sharper than usual. Aunt Mary was looking down at the crumbs on her plate. Verity shivered.

“No reason.” Aunt Hester sipped her coffee and set down the cup. “But I am very glad to hear it. I should be most disappointed if anything were found to be wrong at this stage. Most disappointed indeed.”

“But nothing could possibly be going wrong,” said Aunt Mary quickly. “Everything is already in place. We’re just waiting on the banns…”

“Oh, do stop babbling, Mary,” snapped Aunt Eugenia. “One would think…”

Exactly what one would think, they were not to discover. The door to the breakfast room opened, and the footman entered bearing the morning’s letters.

“Oh, the post. Excellent.” Verity jumped to her feet. She retrieved the letters with thanks to the servant. She handed most of them to Alicia’s uncles, who received them dutifully and uninterestedly. Then Verity returned to her chair, sorting through the smaller stack she’d kept. “Why, here’s a note for you, Alicia! I think it’s from Lord Carstairs.”

“Who else would be sending Alicia notes in the morning, I should like to know?” snapped Aunt Eugenia. “Read it, girl. What does he say?”

Edward—
Lord Carstairs. When did I begin to think of him as Edward?
—had a good hand, strong and precise. Alicia had a sudden and clear vision of him sitting at a neat desk as he wrote. A sailor, being used to confined quarters and the rocking motion of a ship, would be a man of tidy habits. That understanding was most satisfactory to her, although she could not have said why.

Aunt Eugenia was staring hard at her. Alicia realized she had not begun to read as instructed. She blinked and focused on the words in front of her. She found she did not particularly want to
read out whatever Edward might have to communicate to her. Odd. She was not used to having anything to keep to herself. Her flaws and secrets had always been so well known by all her relatives. “He thanks me for the dances last night; there are some remarks about how well the party went…”

“Oh, give it here.” Aunt Eugenia snatched the letter from her fingertips.

“Aunt Eugenia!” shrieked Verity. “That’s Alicia’s private letter!”

“Tush.” Aunt Eugenia waved the paper to brush back her words. “When she’s married, she can be private. Not before. Hmmm…hmmm…yes. Yes. Good.” She handed Alicia back the letter. Alicia stared at the paper. Her chest felt tight. Her cheeks felt hot. Something was wrong with her stomach, and it seemed to have affected her vision, because now she could not read at all.