WitchofArundaleHall (3 page)

Perry’s smile was wicked. “Madame de Laval needs no
introduction. Jaimison!” he called, and the tall man of business appeared out
of nowhere.

Jaimison was an imposing figure, perfectly capable of
dragging her out of the carriage if she refused. He had been protecting Perry
for years, a responsibility given to him by Perry’s brother Joshua.

“This way, miss,” he said gently.

“Mr. Jaimison, what a surprise.” She glared at Perry. “You
never miss an opportunity to humiliate me, do you?”

The smirk on Perry’s face faded and he bowed his head. “So
you say. One hour, Sarah. Don’t be late.”

She flounced out of the carriage with Jaimison’s strong arm
to steady her and refused to look back as Perry left.

“Miss, please believe me when I say that Mr. Arundale only
has your best interests in mind.” Jaimison’s tone was reassuring. “He and only
he can round up the appropriate parties to marry you and stop Lady Marion
North.”

“He has only reinforced what I knew already. He does not
care for me except as his blood mate.” She tipped her chin. “I am only a means
to tame the wolf inside him. Once I break the curse he will abandon me soon
enough.”

Jaimison shook his head. “The feminine mind is beyond me. He
has been your slave since he met you, even when you were his maid. But I
suppose with his carousing and unhappy childhood he is not a good catch for an
ambitious woman.”

She dropped his arm and faced him, her temper slipping. “Carousing?
Of course he sought oblivion in drink and sex. His parents were killed. His
grandmother has never ceased to admonish him in public. And his brother left
him to deal with his curse alone. Yet he did not break. He is a good catch for
any woman, ambitious or not.”

“That is exactly what I told him,” a deep, husky voice interrupted
Sarah’s tirade.

Sarah whirled around and saw a beautiful, tall woman with
silky black hair flowing over her shoulder. She wore the latest fashion, a
plunging neckline revealing perfect curves. Her eyes were smoky gray and her
face had few lines to mar its perfection. This woman in her forties? Impossible.

Quickly Sarah tried to regain her composure. “Madame. I
don’t know if you remember me—”

The woman swept toward Sarah and took both her hands. “But
of course I remember. Lady Sarah Ayers. Your mother was my second cousin,
Mathilde. She and I shared a common grandfather. Please come in.”

Somehow Madame’s warm welcome made Sarah’s throat tighten. It
was her mother’s kindness that made Madame treat her with courtesy. “Madame,
please don’t feel obliged to take me in.”

The woman stopped short and stared at Sarah. “Obliged?” She
seemed puzzled for a moment then her brow smoothed. “Oh, I see.” She cupped
Sarah’s chin. “Child, no amount of gossip would keep me from helping a relation
in need. I am well aware of who Lord Robert was, and avoided him as much as
possible.” Her smile only made her more beautiful. “You are most welcome in my
home.”

It was a stunning residence, with three staircases and a
large dining room. They climbed the first staircase to the drawing room. When
they entered, Sarah was amazed by the sheer number of books that dominated the
room.

A deep male voice startled Sarah. “Am I to play second
fiddle to the written word yet again?”

“Miss Sarah Ayers, this is Mr. Cyril Asher,” Madame de Laval
said with a flourish, then she laughed. “I don’t think I’ve said your full name
in years.”

He grinned and his handsome face transformed into something
resembling that of a Greek God. “It was worth meeting Miss Ayers to hear you
repeat it.”

The heat between them was instantly apparent. For Sarah it
was a painful reminder that the one she loved did not return that love.

Jaimison bowed and Sarah curtsied to their new acquaintance.

Mr. Asher raised one eyebrow. “And who is this gentleman?”

Sarah, stricken, cast a quick silent apology at Jaimison. “Sir,
this is Mr. Edward Jaimison, who is a man of business and my escort.”

Mr. Asher, surprisingly, shook Jaimison’s hand. “I’ve heard
of you, of course. You and the men in your employ are respected by the ton for
your discreet handling of delicate matters.”

“You do me too much credit, sir,” Jaimison said calmly.

“Jaimison and I have met before,” Madame de Laval said with
a twinkle in her gaze. “I believe it was a gaming house, was it not?”

“I believe it was, Madame. Your assistance was invaluable.” Jaimison
bowed.

Madame de Laval smiled and ran a daring finger across Jaimison’s
cheek. “I was compensated.”

Sarah stared at Jaimison as his face turned a deep red and
he cleared his throat. “Madame, the pleasure was all mine.”

“I doubt that,” Mr. Asher said with a wicked grin.

She was out of her depth and Sarah knew it. Jaimison had
clearly enjoyed a sexual encounter with Madame de Laval, and Sarah was a
foolish child playing with adults.

Madame led her to a settee and kept her close. “Ring for
tea, Cy. I’ve had my fun.”

“I must go, Madame,” Jaimison said. “I shall return if that
would be convenient.”

“I insist on it, my old friend,” she said, and held out her
hand. Jaimison was more suave than Sarah had ever seen him as he bent over the
beautiful woman’s hand.

Even more surprisingly he winked at her as he did it. Then
he was gone and Sarah was alone with these dubious patrons.

“Now,” Madame said with relish. “You must tell me the whole
story. How in the world did you end up engaged to Mr. Perry Arundale? How did
you like Wolford House?”

The whole situation overwhelmed Sarah and her lower lip
trembled. She was not going to cry. She cleared her throat. “I have no story,
really. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors.”

Mr. Asher slid onto the couch beside her. Sarah felt warm,
caught between these two gorgeous creatures, their attention solely on her. “We
did not credit the rumors,” Mr. Asher replied. “The duke was known to be a
consummate liar.”

Madame tilted her head. “But I sense that Wolford House made
you curious.”

How could she know that? Sarah swallowed, trying to get rid
of the dry sensation that now plagued her. Did it show? “Curious? Well—” She
stopped as Madame placed her hand on Sarah’s knee.

“It is not an easy thing to resist.” The woman was almost as
tempting as Perry. Sarah should have been appalled with herself, to be sexually
drawn to a woman like this. But it was a familiar sensation since Perry had
marked her with his bite.

With effort she took a deep breath and gritted her teeth. “Mr.
Arundale said that you could be trusted with his family secret,” she said, her
voice shaking a little, to her shame.

The frivolous attitude disappeared and Madame de Laval
glanced at Mr. Asher. “Cy and I both are familiar with the DeFalk legacy.”

“I plan to go to France to undo the legacy.” She spoke with
more confidence than she felt but she had to keep her mind set.

“I see,” Madame de Laval said quietly. “And Perry. How does
he fit into this plan?”

“He doesn’t,” she said firmly.

Madame reached up and stroked her face. The touch was
sensual, a caress that held no motherly gesture. Fire sprang between them and
Sarah’s breath caught. It was so appallingly easy to arouse her, to send her
thoughts into torrid fantasies. The woman slid her hand along Sarah’s
collarbone to the edge of her cleavage and dipped expertly into her bodice.

“You are marked by him.” Madame moved closer and Sarah would
have backed away but Mr. Asher was behind her on the small settee, his solid
presence blocking her escape.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to escape.

Yet she was well aware that Perry had not given her leave to
be touched by another. Why that would matter at all was a mystery to her. After
all, she’d been clear with him that she wanted no sexual relations between them.
Nevertheless she was aware that Perry had an invisible yet palpable claim on
her.

It seemed a monumental task but she raised her hand and
gently pushed Madame de Laval away. “No, please, Madame. Mr. Arudale—” She
couldn’t go on, couldn’t say the words that would solidify his ownership of
her.

“Call me Louise.” She backed away with a sigh. “We shall
wait for his permission then.”

“Permission?” Permission for what? Sarah was afraid to ask.

“Perry’s permission to fuck you,” Mr. Asher said bluntly.

She whirled around and glared at the man even as her pulse
accelerated with excitement. “Mr. Arundale might give you permission, but I do
not, sir.”

“You say he has no say in the destruction of the bond
between you,” Madame de Laval said in a curious tone. “Yet you clearly agree to
his domination over you.”

“I am engaged to be his wife. That gives him some rights,
but not over who I—I…” she trailed off, unable to say the words aloud.

“Who you fuck,” Mr. Asher said them for her, amusement in
his tone. “You were right,
ma cherie
. She is completely in love with
him.”

“She doesn’t believe he loves her,” Madame mused. “I wonder
why. He’s clearly stopped drinking, which can only be because of her.”

“You are mistaken, Madame,” she said quickly. “I understand
his health demanded his abstinence. It was no action of mine.”

“Yet you seem to have wrought a great change in his
behavior,” Madame said calmly. “He has not been talked of in six months.” She
smiled. “And he arrives in London to be married. Would that not be because of
you?”

“On the contrary. I was with the Arundales for three years
and he never deigned to accept my help. His transformation has nothing to do
with me.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her tone. Perhaps he would have
suffered less if she had helped him better.

“So you tried to sober him up and failed, is that it?” Mr.
Asher said in a sharp tone. “And now that he’s reformed you seek to punish
him?”

“That is unfair and untrue,” Sarah snapped.

Mr. Asher’s lips twisted in a parody of a smile. “Is it? He offers
his protection but he has offended you so he must pay, isn’t that correct?”

“Cy,” Madame said gently.

Sarah tipped her chin. “Am I to take scraps then? His
protection? Assuage his guilt?”

Mr. Asher sneered at her. “I’m sure it will not be enough
for a lady with delicate sensibilities.”

“If you mean my desire to be more than a man’s piece of
property then yes, you are correct.”

Madame de Laval laid a hand on Mr. Asher’s arm “Enough. She
is not your sister.”

“The man is suffering,” Mr. Asher said, and stared accusingly
at Sarah.

“It is not her fault,” the woman said. “She is suffering
too.”

The twist of pain on the man’s face made Sarah wince in
sympathy. Mr. Asher rose abruptly and bowed to Sarah. “My apologies.” Without
another word he left the room.

“What have I done to offend him?” Sarah asked, bewildered
and confused.

Madame’s gaze remained fixed on the door Mr. Asher had
exited through. “Cy once drank much as Perry did, though for different reasons.
He was near ruin when he realized his folly and stopped.” She took a deep
breath and smiled faintly. “His only remaining family, a sister, never forgave
him for his past. You see, he humiliated her many times and she hates him for
that. It’s been ten years since he’s had a drink but still she refuses to see
him.”

“That’s horrible,” Sarah said in a whisper.

“Yes. He was very young when he began his path of self-destruction
and not much over twenty-three when he swore off wine.” Madame shook her head. “I
only tell you so that you will know that you can implicitly trust him. He would
never betray someone to the talk of the ton. Enough. This has little to do with
your circumstances. Now, Perry will return soon and we must get you ready to
meet him.”

As Madame and Sarah climbed the stairs to prepare for her
wedding she thought about Cyril Asher and his sister. Sarah had not rejected
Perry’s claim because of his past but he could not know that.

To be honest with herself, even in her own mind, she had to
admit she was hurt that Perry had not Claimed her when he took the innocence
she freely gave him. She was aware that he’d done it to give her some choice in
her future but there was still a part of her that believed she wasn’t enough
for him. In truth she couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d taken her virginity
as punishment for her lies. Had they been on an equal footing she couldn’t be
sure he’d have courted her at all. Only the bloodline she’d inherited had determined
he wanted her. Not her own self.

Why would she regret that he had not Claimed her? After all,
Lady North had stated that Sarah could not break the curse if he did. Wasn’t it
better that he’d only taken her innocence but left her unclaimed? It should
have been. However, her feelings seemed to be at odds with reason.

Madame de Laval helped Sarah to unbutton her dress and
gasped at the state of her back. “These are not marks of pleasure.”

“No. I was whipped by the Duke of Kent to torment Perry.” She
tightened her lips. “It is ridiculous but Perry believes he owes me a debt for
these marks.”

“And you do not?” Madame de Laval’s question held no
judgment as she helped Sarah out of her dress and into one that had been laid
out for her.

“No woman wants to be married to satisfy a debt,” Sarah said
in a quiet voice.

“Sarah, I hope you will let me give you a piece of unwanted
advice,” Madame de Laval said as she pinned Sarah’s hair.

“I would appreciate any word from you, Madame.” Sarah met
the woman’s gaze in the glass.

“A man’s heart is often clouded by his honor and his pride. A
woman of worth will remain faithful to him until he clears away the things that
hide his true feelings.” Her expression was sorrowful and her mouth drooped in
regret. “It is presumptuous for me to speak of this. My first husband married
me because my parents wished it. As a young girl I longed for romance and love,
and my marriage did not provide enough for me.” She took a deep breath and
released it, the topic clearly difficult for her. “I was a poor keeper of a
man’s heart and I hurt him dreadfully. I bore him no children and gave him no
comfort. He waited until my selfish behavior was generally exposed, which is a
testament to his patience.” The woman brushed some of Sarah’s curls, her focus
on the past. “I learned too late to appreciate love, but I learned. That Cy
came into my life is God’s blessing on a woman who did not deserve it.”