Wicked (6 page)

As she came near, he gripped her hand, not with any cruelty, just simple impatience. He laid it atop the dog’s head. The animal whined and thumped its tail.

She felt the size of the Earl of Carlyle, his height, his very vital touch. Like a coiled snake, he seemed mercurial with energy, with something explosive within. It was hypnotic, like the heat of a fire. She stepped back, staring at him. “I’m really not afraid here. I’m sure that your dog—”

“He likes you.”

“How nice,” she murmured.

“Yes, actually, it is. He is a sound judge of character. He is most wary of your guardian.”

She forced a grim smile. “Is that a reminder, My Lord, that we are prisoners here? That we are being…bribed, perhaps?”

She expected anger, something other than the dry laugh of amusement she received in return. “Perhaps. I will leave Ajax and rest assured myself that you will be safe and well throughout the hours of darkness. Good night, Miss Montgomery.”

“Now wait!” she began.

“Good night,” he repeated. He turned and was gone, closing the door behind him in a way that brooked no objection.

Camille stared after him, incredulous and angry. Had he left the dog because he thought she might be up to something? Or because he thought she might be in danger? Was she being watched, or guarded?

Ajax, staring at her, whined and thumped his tail. He padded over to her, still wagging his tail. She petted him on the head again. Huge eyes looked up at her. They seemed adoring now.

“You are really such a fine and handsome fellow,” she told him. “What is it with you and that sneer and your growling? Is it all a facade?” A facade. Like the mask his master wore?

It was all quite ridiculous. And yet, it seemed that the lamps flickered suddenly when there should have been no breeze. Deep in his throat, Ajax let out a warning sound.

“What is it, boy?” she whispered. Despite herself, she felt a deep unease. But the statues were unmoving. The room was empty.

“I think, my fine fellow, that I’m going to finish my brandy. And I must admit, I’m glad to have your company.”

Ajax must have believed her. When she finally doused the lamps—all but one, which she kept by her side—he leaped up on the foot of the bed. Thank God that it was
a large bed. Still, she was glad to have him there, sitting sentinel through the night.

I
N THE MORNING,
she congratulated herself on befriending the dog. Now she could move about the castle as she chose.

She was determined to head straight to Tristan’s room and have it out with the fellow before having to face the master of the castle again. If she knew exactly what Tristan had done and what had transpired, she’d be better able to stand up for him. But the minute she walked out the door, the giant who had brought her in the night before greeted her. Had he just been standing around in the hall all morning, waiting? It appeared to be so.

“His lordship is waiting for you in the solarium,” the man told her gravely.

“Ah, what a surprise,” she murmured. “Lead on, please.”

Ajax trotted at her side as the man led her along the hallway, across the landing from the lower floor and into the next wing of the sprawling castle. Here, one giant room, a ballroom perhaps, led into another. Glass lined much of the ceiling, and it was actually quite beautiful, with the morning sun casting bright rays through to light the marble flooring and elegantly papered walls.

The earl was there, not seated but standing, hands clasped behind his back, at one of the long windows overlooking a central garden.

“Good morning, Miss Montgomery,” he said, turning to greet her. Due to the mask, she was ever more aware of the sharp blue color and piercing quality of his eyes.

“Indeed, it seems fine enough.”

“Were you able to sleep well enough after the disturbance?” he inquired politely, as if she were certainly a welcome guest.

“I slept just fine, thank you.”

“Ajax was no trouble?”

“Ajax is a lamb, just as Mrs. Prior informed me.”

“Usually,” he agreed pleasantly enough. “Well, you must join me for some breakfast, Miss Montgomery. I hope we have something that you might desire. Omelettes, oatmeal, toast, jam, bacon, fish…?”

“I seldom eat heavily in the morning, Lord Stirling, but I do thank you for your generous hospitality. However, I hate to take advantage of it.”

He smiled, quite grimly, she was certain.

“Hospitality is easily afforded here.”

“Too easily,” she said sharply.

“I do apologize for my lack of manners last night, but you did take me quite by surprise. So you work for the museum?”

She sighed deeply. “I am quite knowledgeable, I assure you. And yes, I work for the museum.”

He walked to the table that had been set with shimmering silver, a snowy cloth and chafing dishes. From an urn he poured a cup of coffee. “Tea, Miss Montgomery? Or do you prefer coffee?”

“Tea will be lovely, thank you,” she murmured.

“How long have you worked for the museum?” he asked.

“About six months.”

“And your work for the museum had nothing to do with your guardian’s appearance here?” he asked.

The words were politely spoken but they had a frightening edge. She decided that she liked him better when he was angry. There was something quite unnerving about the ease of his movement and the pleasantness of his tone.

She accepted the cup of tea he offered to her, and with little choice, also took a seat in the chair he pulled out for her convenience. He sat next to her, close, his chair at an angle, his knee nearly touching hers.

“Lord Stirling, I do assure you, Tristan is in no way involved
with my work!” She didn’t add that she kept her guardian as far from the museum as she could at all times. “I swear to you, I gained my position there through knowledge, work and dogged determination! And I’m terribly afraid that I am going to lose that position,” she added bitterly. “Sir John has no tolerance for tardiness.”

“Sir John?”

“Sir John Matthews. He is my immediate superior.”

“The department is run by David, Lord Wimbly,” he said sharply.

“Yes, yes. But Lord Wimbly seldom…” She refrained from saying that the man seldom actually worked! “He has many functions to attend. His work is seldom at the museum itself. Sir John sees to the actual care and study of the exhibitions. He works closely with two men who have been on many excavations themselves, Alex Mittleman and Aubrey Sizemore. When there is a new exhibit, Lord Wimbly is present, and with Sir Hunter MacDonald, they make the arrangements. They also choose what purchases shall be made for the galleries, and they are in charge of seeing who receives grants for study and further expeditions.”

“Where do you fit in?” he demanded.

She flushed slightly. “I read hieroglyphics. And naturally, loving the subject as I do, I have the patience and care to work with artifacts.”

“How did you get the job?” he demanded.

“I was there one day when Sir John happened to be working alone. I had come to view a new exhibit of artifacts from the New Kingdom, when a box arrived. Sir John could not find his glasses, and I was able to decipher the information he needed from a stone within. He needed someone. There was a meeting and I was hired.”

He had been staring at her steadily all the while. She
continued to feel ill at ease, aware that she had seldom been watched quite so intensely.

She set her cup down. “I don’t know why on earth you believe that I’m lying or making any of this up. You are free to ask any of the men involved, and you’ll learn that I’m telling the truth. However, this job is important to me.” She hesitated. “My guardian…well, his past has not always been the most pure. I am doing all that I can, My Lord, to see that we are respectable. I’m deeply distressed that Tristan fell over your wall—”

He interrupted her with a choked sound of laughter. “Imagine! And I had been about to believe your every word!” he exclaimed.

She felt her anger rising, and also her color, for he had every right to laugh. She stood. “I’m afraid, Lord Stirling, that you are doing nothing but seeking revenge upon me as well as Tristan, and that there is nothing I can say or do that will stop you from pressing charges. I can tell you only that my work is very important to me, that Tristan is often foolish and misled but never evil, and that, if you’re going to press charges, you must just go ahead and do so. If I don’t appear at work soon, I will surely be fired. That may not matter, because I would never deny my association with Tristan, and once you file charges, word will get out and I will lose my job anyway.”

“Oh, do sit down, Miss Montgomery,” he said, suddenly sounding weary. “I admit that as yet I’m still feeling a bit…wary, shall we say? Regarding you both. However, for the moment, I suggest that you take a chance. Play along with me. If you’re ready, we’ll get you into work right now, and I’ll see to it personally that you receive no reprimands for tardiness.”

Stunned, she sat in silence.

“Sit. Finish your tea.”

She sat, a frown creasing her brow. “But—”

“I haven’t been to the museum in quite a while. I wasn’t even aware of how the hierarchy in your department worked. I think a journey in will be quite appropriate for me at this time.” He rose. “If you’ll be so good as to be at the front door in five minutes…?”

“But what about Tristan?”

“He needs the day in bed.”

“I have barely even seen him. I must get him home.”

“Not today, Miss Montgomery. Shelby will have the carriage at the museum doors at closing time.”

“But—?”

“Yes, what haven’t I covered?”

“I…must go home. And then, there’s Ralph.”

“Ralph can tend to your guardian today. He won’t be leaving. I’ve seen to it that he has lodgings in the metal smith’s place in the courtyard.”

“Really, Lord Stirling, you can’t just keep people prisoner.”

“Actually, I can. I rather think they’ll be more comfortable here than in jail, don’t you?”

“You are bribing me! Blackmailing me!” she choked. “You are toying with me, playing some kind of game!”

“Yes, but you’re a smart young woman, and therefore, you should play this game my way.”

He turned to leave, perfectly aware that she would do as he had suggested. Ajax might have decided that he liked her, but certainly no more than his master. The giant hound trotted out in Lord Stirling’s wake.

When they were both gone, she jumped to her feet. “I will not be made a pawn!” she swore aloud. But then she sank back into the chair again, staring across the expanse of the long hall. Yes, she would be made a pawn. She really had no choice at this minute.

She finished her tea, angry. And when she was done, she made her way from the wing to the great stairway. The Earl of Carlyle was waiting for her at the bottom.

She stopped before him, chin raised, shoulders squared. “There must be some agreement between us, Lord Stirling.”

“Oh?”

“You must promise not to prosecute.”

“Because I’m bringing you into London, to work?” he inquired.

“You are using me somehow, sir.”

“Then let’s just see how useful you prove to be, shall we?”

He opened the door. “You are buying a great deal of time, and since you arrived out here of your own accord last evening, I think it’s rather chivalrous of me to see to it that you maintain your employment.”

Her lashes fell and she walked past him.

The carriage, with the man, Shelby, driving, was waiting for them at the door. She was so angry that she jerked her arm away when the beast of the castle would have helped her in. She nearly careened off the step, but, thank God, saved herself. She somewhat crashed into the forward seat of the carriage, but that didn’t matter since she was able to rectify her position before he joined her, sitting on the opposite side. He carried a silver-knobbed walking stick, and he tapped it against the top of the carriage.

As they started out, she fixed her eyes on the view.

“What is going on in that devious little mind, Miss Montgomery?” he inquired.

She turned to him. “I was thinking, My Lord, that you need a new gardener.”

He laughed, the sound oddly pleasant. “Ah, but I like my deep, dark woods and the tangle of vines within them!”

She didn’t reply, but once again stared out the window.

“You don’t approve?”

She looked at him. “I’m sorry for what you’ve suffered,” she said. “But I’m equally sorry that a man of your position should hide himself away because of that suffering when you could be doing so very much for so many people.”

“I am not at fault for the ills of the world.”

“The world is better when the life of one man, or one woman, is improved, sir.”

He lowered his head slightly. For a moment, she couldn’t even see the sardonic curl of his lips or the intense blue of his eyes.

“What would you have me do?”

“There are dozens of things you could do!” she informed him. “With this property.”

“Shall I cut it into tiny lots and divvy it out?” he asked.

She shook her head impatiently. “No, but…you could bring the children from orphanages out here, let them have just a day with a lovely picnic! You could hire many more people, have beautiful grounds, give employment to some who desperately need it. Not that it will change all the ills in society, but—”

She broke off as he leaned forward. “How do you know, Miss Montgomery, that I don’t contribute to the welfare of others?”

He was very close to her. She didn’t think she had ever seen anything quite so intense, so silencing, so commanding and condemning as his eyes. She found that she wasn’t even breathing.

“I don’t,” she managed to say at last.

He sat back.

“But!” she said. “I know what I have heard about you. And you are one of the most powerful men in our kingdom. I’ve heard that the Queen and your parents were devoted friends. I’ve heard that you are one of the—”

“One of the what?”

She looked out the window again, afraid that she was being quite crass. But then again, she was the daughter of an East End prostitute.

“That you are one of the richest men in the country. And since you were so blessed at birth, you should be thankful. Other men have lost their families, and they cannot all be bitter.”