The Forest Lord (49 page)

It was a wonder that he had found
Eden so quickly. Such fortune came not from magic but from something he did not dare name. He sensed that Donal was not with her; that was doubtless part of her and Lady Claudia's scheme to throw him off the scent, should he survive to follow. But
Eden would most assuredly know where the boy was.

He looked about at the glittering company. The last time he had ventured so far from his realm had been many centuries ago, and everything had changed.

The one constant was
Eden.

She recognized him. The face he wore was his Fane visage, bearing only a distant resemblance to the man he had become at Hartsmere. But she had seen this face in the
glade,
for all that he had been wearing vastly different garments.

She controlled her shock very well. No one would realize she knew him.

Her gown was finer than any he had seen her wear at Hartsmere. But it enhanced her beauty no more than a candle flame increases the heat of a raging fire. Her golden hair gleamed like Fane treasure. What emotion she revealed only added color to her cheeks and a sparkle to her eyes. Amid this glittering company, mortals who represented the highest ranks of men, she might have been one of the Fair Folk who had deigned to grace
London with her presence for a few magical hours.

He could not take his eyes from her.

Whispers resolved into snatches of conversation, all covering the same subject: Who was this mysterious stranger? No one recognized him, though clearly he was good
ton
. Yes, there could be no doubt of that. Only look at his clothing, his bearing, his face. But who
was
he?

Hartley met
Eden's frozen stare across the room and waited for her to act.

She gained a few moments' respite as a pretty, plump woman approached Hartley. She smiled with an air of bemused uncertainty, smoothing her gown as if she feared that her appearance was not quite up to snuff.

"Good evening," she said a little breathlessly. "I am Lady Saville." She cleared her throat. "I am terribly sorry, but I… do not believe we have met."

Hartley bowed. "It is I who must apologize, Lady Saville," he said. "I have been most forward in appearing at your doorstep without an invitation. I pray that you will forgive me when you hear my reasons."

Lady Saville puffed up her feathers. "Oh, you are most welcome to join us, Mr
… ?"

"Cornelius Fleming." He smiled and looked beyond her to
Eden. "I am but recently returned from
India, and I heard that my cousin was staying with you. I was most eager to see my family after so long an absence."

Lady Saville turned and followed his gaze. "Oh," she said.
"Oh, my.
Lady Eden is your cousin? But of course—Fleming! How wonderful! You are most welcome to join us, and if you will permit me—" She took his arm and led him directly to
Eden. "My dear Lady Eden, here is your long-lost cousin from
India! Is this not a delightful surprise?"

Like a sleepwalker, with the stares of every other man and woman upon her,
Eden moved forward. The room hushed. With a visible effort,
Eden met Hartley's gaze and offered her hand.

"It has been a long time, Cousin," she said with remarkable poise. "I trust that your journey was a prosperous one?"

Hartley lifted her hand to his lips. "With such beauty at its conclusion, the journey seems inconsequential."

Lady Saville pressed her hands together in glee. "How extraordinary this is. How pleased you must be, dear Lady Eden! And you, Mr. Fleming, pray take your ease and consider yourself most welcome in my home. Everyone will wish to meet you, and I am sure you have many a fascinating tale to tell of the exotic East!"

Eden
attempted to retreat, but Hartley held fast to her hand. His skin burned where they touched, though two layers of kid glove separated them.

Eden
flushed, and he knew that she felt what he did. She could not free herself without making a scene. After a silent struggle, she smiled and tucked her free hand through the crook of his elbow.

"Lady Saville," she said, "would you mind if I took a few moments to speak to my cousin privately? I confess that this has all been something of a surprise to me, and I am quite overwhelmed—"

"Of course, my dear.
Of course."
Lady Saville cast Hartley a solicitous glance. "I will see that refreshments are brought to you in the library."

Hartley bowed again, grateful that Lady Saville catered so conveniently to his needs. He was keeping himself on his feet with only the most supreme effort.

And
Eden would have no protection once they were alone. "Thank you, Lady Saville,"
Eden said. "If you will come this way, Cousin—"

Lord Rushborough stepped into their path. His gaze darted from
Eden to Hartley.

"Ah, Rushborough," Lady Saville said, taking his arm. "We have a new guest… May I present Mr. Cornelius Fleming, just come all the way from—
"

"Fleming," Rushborough said, cutting her off. It was not a greeting. His eyes narrowed to slits, as if he recognized Hartley. But he would not be expecting a laborer in his home, least of all one dressed in expensive finery. Nevertheless, the way he looked at
Eden suggested that he was disturbed beyond any passing jealousy.

Did he know the name Cornelius Fleming and what it meant to
Eden?

Eden
's expression did not change, but Hartley couldn't mistake the pleading in her voice. "Lord Rushborough, if you will excuse me for just a few moments…"

"Of course, Lady Eden," he said tightly. "But I insist upon being allowed your company for a little conversation when you are free."

She smiled, but her whole body stiffened. He was going to demand explanations, and she obviously feared that ordeal.

Hartley bristled. "I am honored to make your acquaintance, Lord Rushborough," he said. "I am very sorry to impose upon you, but I have been long away, and I am eager to be reunited with my dear cousin." He laid his hand over
Eden's.
"You understand, I am sure."

Rushborough merely stared, his jaw clenched. The scent of challenge overwhelmed the perfumes and pomades of the guests.

"Pray excuse us, Lord Rushborough, Lady Saville,"
Eden said, and tugged at Hartley's elbow. He allowed himself to be led away, but not before he heard Lady Saville's whispered hiss of reproval to her brother.
"Really, Rushborough, how could you be so… so gauche?
I cannot understand—"

Her voice was swallowed up in the chatter of the guests. Hartley and Eden entered a hallway, and then passed through a door into a shelf-lined room filled with dark, polished wood.

Eden
shut the door behind them and leaned against it. She remained there, hands braced against the door, while Hartley found the support of the great oak desk and rested his weight upon it.

There was metal in the desk, to be sure, and the wood was long dead, but it gave him a moment's relief from the constant pain and weakness. He closed his eyes and focused on regaining his strength.

"So," he said softly, "you have returned to your old world. It suits you admirably."

She pushed away from the door, one hand extended. "Hartley," she whispered.

"Are you surprised to see me alive?" he asked coldly.

She blanched. "What?"

"Did you not tell your aunt who I was? Did you not know that she attempted to kill me with a pistol ball of iron?"

She shook her head wildly, loosening strands of hair from her elaborate coiffure. "No," she cried. "I did not! My aunt—"

"She knew what I was, and how to hurt me," he said. "How could she have known if you did not tell her?"

Eden
's expression had gone beyond shock. "I told her nothing. I would never see you hurt." She reached out again. "Are you well? She did not harm you?"

Fear he had expected, but not this passionate sincerity. He shielded his heart. "Your aunt did not quite aim true. But Lady Claudia is a very clever woman.
Most determined.
It would have been convenient for you if she had succeeded, would it not?"

"
No
." She took a step toward him. "No… I do not know what to call you."

Reflected in her tear-bright eyes was the stranger's face he wore, neither Hartley's nor that of Cornelius. He let his shape change, and suddenly he was Hartley Shaw again, incongruously dressed in an aristocrat's clothing.

"Does this set you at ease? Or should I alter my dress as well?"

"Hartley."
Her eyes pleaded with him, as they had done with Rushborough. "You meant to take my son from me."

"Not when I came to you at Caldwick. I had other plans then." The effort of speaking was beginning to tell on him. He spread his fingers on the wood as if he could draw its dormant energy into himself. "I waited for you, Eden. I even dared to hope." He laughed. "I offered you all I had to give. You had not even the courtesy to answer me."

Her posture straightened, like that of an errant soldier awaiting deserved punishment. "I was afraid to return. I was horrified at what you had revealed to me."

"That I am not human?"

"That you deceived me not once, but twice.
That you intended to steal my son.
And—" She bit her lip. "Yes.
Because of what you are.
And because my whole life, and Donal's, was shaped by your deception." She looked away. "Did you use your Faerie powers on me? Did you cast a glamor upon me, so that I would… do your bidding?"

His heart had begun to pound, battered by emotion and the workings of man on every side. "I never bespelled you; I only took on different forms. What I was did not change."

"And what is that?" She was calm now, unnaturally so. "A being
who
lives forever?
Without a soul, or a heart, or the ability to love?"

His body shivered with warning. She understood much more than she had at their last meeting. She had talked to someone—someone who knew how to kill one of the Fane.

Claudia.
Always Claudia.

An invisible fist slammed into his head. He sucked at air that no longer existed. The blood seemed to drain from his body. Soon he would be too weak to stand or to speak at all. With a great effort, he concealed his pain. She would not pity him.

"Lady Claudia has taught you much, has she not?" he said, fighting for breath. "Did she tell you… why she wishes to destroy me?"

Eden
backed away until she came to one of the bookcases. Her fingers felt blindly along the row of spines, as if she sought answers among the pages of mortal writings.

"She knew you," she said. "My father told her what you were six years ago, and of the bargain you made for my child. How you threatened Papa with death or worse if he did not obey. She thought you were gone forever, but then she discovered that you had returned, that you were Hartley Shaw. I did not even have to tell her. She
knew
.

"She told me… of your intention to put me at ease so that you could steal Donal from me. You must understand that I will not let that happen."

Each of her accusations struck at Hartley like iron-tipped arrows. How long had Claudia been aware of his true identity?

"Where is Donal?" he demanded.

"Did you think I would tell you?" she whispered.

"He is with Claudia, is he not? If you value his safety, you must tell me at once."

He waited for her answer, but all
Eden could think
was that Claudia had betrayed her again.

She had tried to kill Hartley. She had stolen Donal at his birth, knowing that he was a Faerie's child. She had quite possibly drugged
Eden so that she could take the boy without telling her niece where she was bound.

Claudia's behavior had ceased to be rational. She kept secrets and harbored intentions that were beyond comprehension. The sum of her actions began to form a terrifying pattern.

Eden
had been afraid when Hartley walked through the door.
Afraid that he would seek revenge for her flight from Hartsmere.
Afraid that he would take her son.

That fear was nothing to what she felt now.
Does Claudia wish harm to my son? Why? Why
? Yet even as she confronted the terror that flooded her mind, her calm returned. Everything became very clear. Part of her had wished for Hartley, and he was here. She was no longer alone.