Susan Spencer Paul - [Enchanter 01] (3 page)

“I don’t believe you ever were,” the earl said. “She wasn’t of any particular consequence in those days, save for her family’s name. But you were quite the opposite, Niclas. You were one of the most admired gentlemen of the ton, and justly famed for your intellect and wit, to say nothing of your elegance in dress and manner. It’s extremely likely that Miss Linley will remember you as . . . well, as you were then. If I were to ask her now to consider your escort in place of mine, she would surely expect that you would at least give the appearance of a gentleman, if not behave like one. Were you to present yourself to her in your present state, you’d terrify the poor woman.”

Niclas looked down at himself. His clothes were muddy and torn, but looked respectable, he thought. And
his appearance certainly hadn’t frightened away the various fellows who’d attempted to rob him in the past several days.

“It’s not as bad as that, is it?” he asked. “I shall have Abercraf give me a proper shave and trim before I go to meet her.”

“Cfender,”
Malachi said gently, opening his palm to reintroduce the flame, which flickered violently in the night’s breeze. “Forgive me for saying so, but you look very much like a man who hasn’t slept in three years.”

Niclas’s gaze riveted to his cousin’s, illumined in the light of the flame.

“As that is precisely what I am, I doubt that can be of any surprise.”

The earl’s expression was sympathetic. “That’s true, but I don’t believe the explanation will go far with anyone outside the family. And that includes Miss Linley. You will have to do more than simply take a bath and change your clothes.”

“A nap would help, I’m certain,” Niclas snapped, “but I doubt it would be possible.” He began to pace again. “It’s been three years since I was able to lay my head on a pillow and close my eyes and escape into slumber. Three years without rest or respite or peace.” Turning, he met his cousin’s unhappy gaze. “I wander the streets without marking time,” he said angrily, flinging out a hand, “and take your wretched potions and try to exhaust myself with fights and drink. But nothing helps. My mind is sick with weariness, and the powers that I once held in complete control now burst out unleashed. Every emotion felt by common mortals is flung at me like a knife, and when I’m in a crowd it’s as if they’re all shouting at once. I’m going
mad,” he said, then forcibly stopped and shut his eyes tightly, struggling to regain his precarious balance. “I’m going mad, day by day,” he said more slowly, “and you don’t seem to give a damn. You won’t even give me this last chance to redeem myself.”

Almost before the final words were out of his mouth, Niclas was cringing at the bitterness and childishness of his tone, at the pained expression on his cousin’s face, and was wishing he could wash the words away. But bitterness and anger, he had learned, came part and parcel with the curse that had been laid upon him.

“I’m sorry,” he said before Malachi could speak, turning away toward the river again. He thought briefly of flinging himself in, and wondered whether his cousin wouldn’t find the splash not only entertaining but a great relief. “I have no right to speak to you in such a manner. There is no one to blame but myself for all that’s happened. I’m sorry, Malachi.”

The light from the flame went out. There was a moment of silence, and then he heard his cousin’s slow footsteps. Niclas appreciated the warning, for Malachi had the power to walk in complete silence when he wished. The comforting hand upon his shoulder, however, came as a surprise.

“You were not entirely at fault,” the earl said. “Drew played a part, and his faithless wife, as well. You, at least, meant to be of help.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Niclas shook his head. “Drew still died because of me.”

“He killed himself because the wife he loved was unfaithful,” Malachi countered, giving him a shake. “That was no fault of yours.”

“I was the one who told him,” Niclas retorted angrily. “I knew what her thoughts were and broke every rule of our kind by telling him. To this moment I don’t know why I thought that he would receive the news with anything but despair. Drew loved her so.”

“And that was why you told him,” said Malachi. “You feel the emotions of others, but you can’t predict how they’ll behave. The love that Drew felt for Lucilla was so powerful that it drowned out all other emotions. You had no idea that he would kill himself, rather than simply take his wife in hand and put an end to her affairs, as he should have done. She loved him, too, did she not?”

Niclas nodded. “The affairs were nothing to Lucilla. Merely a way to pass the hours while Drew was fixed on Parliament. She would have stopped if he’d shown the least vexation. I tried to tell him that, but he wouldn’t listen beyond the facts of her betrayal. He didn’t realize that there was so much more to the problem.”

Malachi sighed. “Mere mortals often find it difficult to understand the complexities of such matters. You mustn’t blame yourself too harshly. It might very well have turned out as it did, regardless.”

“And it might not. The curse is proof of my wrongdoing. The guardians never lay them upon our kind without good cause. But
this
curse—to never know slumber or be at complete rest! Death would have been kinder.”

“Death is not a curse, but a release,” Malachi reminded him gently. “But I understand very well what you mean by the words. I, too, was surprised at the manner in which your punishment was laid upon you, and the difficulty we’ve had in finding the way in which the debt might be paid. I suppose . . .”

Niclas lifted his head.

“I’ll do whatever you ask, Malachi. Give me this chance, I beg it of you.”

Lord Graymar gazed at him thoughtfully, his blue eyes glittering in the darkness as if lit by some inner fire.

“You would have to take protection, in whatever form I determine is best. No arguments.”

Niclas’s heart began pounding loudly in his ears. He straightened.

“Of course.”

“And you’ll require a mount,” Malachi went on. “I mean no insult to your very fine cattle, but I want you to take Enoch.”

Niclas blinked at that. Enoch was descended from a long line of fabled and magical steeds which only those who were
dewin
rode. The beasts did not suffer the touch of those who possessed lesser magic.

“No one but you has ever ridden him,” Niclas said. “He’d kill me before letting me sit astride him.”

“He will not do it for your sake, but for mine,” Malachi informed him. “And you will be exceedingly glad to have him on your journey, if you indeed undertake it.”

“I mean to do so,” said Niclas.

“Aye, and that you do,” said the earl. “But you must meet the last requirement first, and that will be a task almost as difficult as facing down our uncle Ffinian.”

“What is it?”

“You must convince Lady Eunice that you are a better choice than I am to escort her niece to Wales and rescue her sister from our uncle’s clutches.”

Niclas frowned darkly. “Lady Eunice,” he repeated. “She’ll be stubborn, but Linleys are famous for that—”

“Lady Eunice sets the standard for stubbornness,” Malachi murmured. “She glories in her reputation.”

Niclas ignored him. “I haven’t seen her in years,” he said. “But there was a time when she used to gaze upon me with a great deal of favor.”

“Of course she did,” his cousin said. “You were one of the wealthiest and most marriageable men in England, and she is the head of a family with numerous females to launch. The trouble now is that she wouldn’t consider you a suitable match even for that youngest one, the unfortunate, spotted girl with the prominent teeth and unpleasant—”

“Aye, it will be difficult convincing her,” Niclas said, “but not impossible. I must simply prove to her that I’m not mad, and—”

“But the girl is well mannered, for all that,” said the earl, gazing up at the sky. “I’ve danced with her, and I’ve seen the potential she possesses, not unlike our own young cousins who will be having their come-outs this season. Rhosyn and Cordelia. Can you believe they’re old enough?” He shook his head. “It seems like just the other day that they were teething. Do you remember how all the books used to fly off the shelves at Glain Tarran whenever Cordelia began to cry? Gad, what a horrid mess. But she only affected the books, curiously. I do hope she’s learned to control herself.” Frowning, he murmured, “I’d better not allow her into any libraries.”

Niclas, lost in thought, made no reply, and Lord Graymar was obliged to clear his throat loudly to gain his attention.

“Have you settled on whether you’re willing to approach Lady Eunice?” he asked.

“Aye, I have,” Niclas said, “and I accept your terms in full. I’ll find a way to make her ladyship listen to me.”

Even in the darkness he could see Malachi smile.

“It will be exceedingly interesting to see you make the attempt, at least,” said the earl. “And even more interesting to discover what Miss Linley’s response is. Go home and make yourself presentable first, and make certain to send me word once your meeting with Lady Eunice has concluded. I shall want to hear every word of what has taken place.”

N
iclas Seymour,” Julia repeated, slowly setting down the quill with which she’d been writing. She stared at her aunt in disbelief. “Niclas Seymour is in the sitting room. Mister
Niclas
Seymour—
not
Lord Graymar?”

“I was as surprised by it as you are, my dear,” Lady Eunice replied, sniffing disdainfully. She was standing near one of the room’s tall windows, twisting a silk handkerchief in both hands as if it were Niclas Seymour’s neck. “The fellow hasn’t been seen in respectable company for years, yet he has the cheek to appear at our door and demand an audience. I can’t imagine what he wants. And,” she added in a more meaningful tone, “Puckett informs me that he looks as rumpled and unkempt as a common dockworker. Of course he had to allow him entrance—he is Earl Graymar’s cousin, after all, and a Seymour.” She threw her hands up. “It would be just as impossible to refuse the Prince Regent.”

Lady Eunice began to move in an agitated circle, tormenting the handkerchief with new energy. “I can only
pray that no one of consequence saw him entering. Lady Evanstone, of course, will surely hear of it from one of her servants. That can’t be helped. And you know what a gossip that woman is.” Lady Eunice fell still and let out a loud, taut, telling breath. “The entire ton will have heard the gossip before nightfall. We’ll hear little else at the Dubrow ball tonight. It will be utterly horrid.”

“Not at all, Aunt,” Julia said with as much calm as she could muster, which, given the increased pace of her heartbeat, wasn’t a great deal. “His visit should only increase our consequence. We shall be the center of attention, and haven’t you always told me that such is the most desirable position to achieve in society?”

Her hands, Julia saw as she began to put away her writing things, were actually trembling, and when she drew in a breath it seemed far too brief and insufficient to keep her from losing all sensibility.

Julia gave herself a firm mental shake and strove to collect her scattered thoughts.

It was ridiculous to react in such a foolish manner. Niclas Seymour had never paid the least attention to her, had never even been formally introduced to her, and probably had no memory of her at all. The fact that she could still react like a young girl in the throes of her first serious crush, simply at the sound of his name, was painfully embarrassing.

“But not in this manner, Julia,” Lady Eunice replied unhappily. “Niclas Seymour is reported to be half-mad, an oddity who wanders the worst streets in London at all hours. What could he possibly want to speak to us about? Oh, dear”—she set a hand to her forehead—“is he here to ask for aid? But no,” she added before Julia could say a
word, “he would have gone to Lord Graymar first, and the earl would scarce turn one of his closest relatives aside.”

“I’m sure he would not,” Julia agreed, standing and pushing back the chair at the writing desk. “Lord Gray-mar isn’t the sort of man who’d do such a thing. But apart from that, I fear you’re forgetting that Mister Seymour remains quite wealthy, despite his odd behavior in recent years. He inherited a large portion of the Seymour fortune and has no reputation as a gambler or wastrel.”

“I believe that’s so,” her aunt agreed thoughtfully. “I’ve always thought it a shame that so promising a gentleman as he once was became so ineligible a match. But perhaps it’s just as well now that he never took a wife. It would be a dreadful thing to be wed to such a creature, regardless how wealthy or wellborn. But then, why on earth has the man come?”

Julia ran her shaking hands over her hair, praying that she looked well enough to see him and wishing that she had dressed in something more becoming. But how could she possibly have divined that he would come? Would he recognize her? No, she chided silently, it was foolish to hope for such a miracle. She was so changed from what she had once been.

“I’m sure Mister Seymour must be here to discuss my upcoming journey to Wales,” she said with a calmness that she was far from feeling. Would he think her attractive? Even pretty? “Perhaps—” she said, smoothing down the front of her dress, “perhaps he has a great fondness for his uncle, Baron Tylluan, and desires to attempt discouraging me from disentangling Aunt Alice from the baron’s attentions.”

She was going to see him in a few moments, she thought with inner panic. She was going to be in the same room with Niclas Seymour—and speak to him face-to-face. God help her. She would probably make a terrible fool of herself.

“Yes,” Lady Eunice said, nodding. “Yes, that’s it. You’re perfectly right, Julia. I’m sure there’s nothing more to it. Well, if he’s come as Baron Tylluan’s second, we must simply be firm with him,” she stated emphatically. “Your journey with Lord Graymar has been planned down to every detail, and nothing must happen to alter it.”

Julia patted her aunt’s hands. “Nothing will happen. Aunt Alice will be made safe from Baron Tylluan’s demands, and all will be well. Mister Seymour doesn’t possess the power or influence to change the decisions that have been made. I’m certain he’ll understand once everything has been explained to him.”