WitchofArundaleHall (9 page)

He revealed so much, his heart open and the clasp of his
hand gentle. She leaned forward and placed her other hand over his. “I don’t
want to torment future generations with this…this responsibility.”

“What if you cannot stop the curse, Sarah?” he asked her. “What
if your fate is to be with me?”

What she had wanted to prevent was the devastating pain
she’d seen on Marcus’ face after Derek’s murder. If Perry was loosely connected
to her, when she was gone, he wouldn’t be like Marcus, desolate and hurting. And
other reasons she could not reveal.

When she answered him she realized how completely she’d
failed. “I don’t believe in fate,” she lied. At his wince she gripped his
hands. “When my parents died I learned what freedom was because I had none.
Before their deaths I had been carefree, selfish, caring little for what the
future might hold. Once I was at the mercy of my circumstances I learned that I
had been given a gift, one I didn’t appreciate.” She willed him to understand. “I
want to be free to choose, Perry. I don’t want to be imprisoned by fate.”

He struggled with her answer, she could see. The dominant
part of him, the part the wolf had brought to the surface, wanted to take those
choices away from her, to free her in a strange way. Sarah had experienced the
freedom that came with his possession, the oxymoron that existed between them
she couldn’t explain. Her soul longed to surrender, to accept his love before
she faced the inevitable end she seemed doomed to choose.

How could she tell him she was bred to close the door on a
brutal curse that had existed for centuries? How could she reveal that Lady
North had deliberately set Sarah on this path to her own sacrifice, knowing the
young girl would choose her death rather than let another two hundred years
pass?

“I will help you do this thing,” he said slowly, and she
noted how difficult it was for him to say the words. His stare on her face made
her face flush hot. “I will prove to you that we are connected by more than
this curse.”

She widened her eyes. “You believe that?”

He sighed. “You think I didn’t notice you? That I paid no
attention to the woman who cleaned my grate for three years?” He shook his
head. “I know you better than you think, Sarah. I know that you love the
sunshine, that heather is your favorite flower, that you like to read books,
that you smile when a child laughs and that you have a generous heart. I have
seen you give your last coin to a farmer’s child because you hate to see
hunger.” He tugged on her hands and pulled her out of the chair to stand
between his knees. “I saw the pity you had for Marcus after Derek was killed. I
saw your bravery when that bastard Applegate tormented you.” His hands were
still twined with hers and the heat between them made her breath hitch. His
words stabbed her in the heart and made her long to drop to her knees and lay
her head in his lap. Even though he gazed up at her he still seemed to
overpower her, his hands locked with hers and his voice relentless. “I’ve seen
you fight even when your enemy is bigger, stronger and meaner.” Mesmerized, she
didn’t protest as he brought her closer and placed her arms around his neck. “You
are brave and beautiful, a woman any man would want.” He encircled her within his
hold and before she knew it she was in his embrace, sitting on top of him, her
head on his shoulder. “Let me show you that I can be what you need me to be,”
he said in a low whisper.

You already have. You are everything I need. Forever.
She couldn’t say the words, her heart cracking into a million pieces. Instead
she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder and nodded.

As the sun slipped away and the room was plunged into
darkness Perry held her, just held her. He didn’t try to make love to her or
demand more from her. They were both silent, the quiet between them one of the
most beautiful things Sarah had ever experienced.

For the first time in her life Sarah felt safe, loved, as if
she mattered.

When he broke the silence he spoke in a calm, soothing voice
that didn’t jar her. “After I discovered you had gone to London I was very sick
and succumbed to delirium for many weeks. In those times, when I thought I was
going to die, I clung to thoughts of you, of your strength and your sweet
nature.” She heard the humor in his tone as he continued. “I was as weak as a
babe but I made up my mind that I was going to be the man I should have been. That
even if you turned away from me and hated me I was going to face myself and
live my life instead of running from it.”

In the darkness she couldn’t see his face but she sensed his
determination, the steel in his resolve. She thought she’d loved him before,
recognizing the tenderness she felt for him. But this thing between them was
more than she’d ever believed. “I did not run from you because I hated you.”

His hold tightened around her briefly. “I did not take your
innocence as punishment. Nor did I Claim you to keep others from you. I Claimed
you because I—”

She covered his mouth with hers. She knew the words that
might have followed and couldn’t hear them, couldn’t say them back. It was a
bold move, one she might regret in the future, but she didn’t want any more
tender declarations.

“Please,” she whispered as she broke the kiss to take a
breath. “Say no more.”

He was still, the silence now heavy and filled with unspoken
words. He set her on her feet and rose from the chair. Then he cupped her face
and brushed her lips with his. “Change into your nightgown, love,” he said. “Tomorrow
we must see the du Bussein family and obtain an introduction to the bishop.”

He loved her. The words had hovered on Perry’s lips but
Sarah had stopped them. As he observed her across the breakfast table he
marveled at her composed features. Secrets were hidden in the depths of those
beautiful blue eyes and he would ferret them out.

The sun was bright and cheerful, giving the street below a
festive appearance. A message had already arrived from the du Bussein family
indicating their eagerness to welcome the younger son of an English duke. It
was signed by Chevelle du Bussein, the man directly descended from the Count du
Bussein who had once ruled this part of Normandy. Though the title had reverted
to the French monarchy, some of the land remained and the Monsieur du Bussein
was still considered a powerful man by the locals.

Sarah said little as they ate and prepared to visit her illustrious
relative. He watched her and wondered. It was clear to him that she was
determined to follow through on ending the curse. He recognized that she
believed the curse was evil, causing pain to those she cared about. He wasn’t
sure whether he was in the same category as Gerry, his nine-year-old cousin, or
if he held a higher place in Sarah’s regard.

She was resigned, as if she faced a hard task but felt she
had no choice but to do it. For all her talk of wanting freedom she still acted
on her perception of duty and honor. Whatever it was that motivated her, there
was no dissuading her. He was sure that his only option was to remain by her
side and protect her from whatever might threaten her.

Why would she continue on this journey to end the curse? He
had Claimed her and no scroll could undo that. But maybe she hoped the scrolls
would reveal more. He certainly did. At the moment all they had to go on was
what Lady North had told them, and who knew where the truth lay there?

Jaimison appeared at the inn’s entrance as Perry followed
Sarah down the stairs from their room. He looked concerned. “Monsieur du Bussein
has sent a carriage for you, Mr. Arundale.”

Sarah immediately headed toward the waiting carriage. He
gripped her arm. “Wait,” he said quietly.

Without warning, the carriage door was flung open and a man
appeared with a knife in his hand. But Jaimison had been as suspicious as Perry.
Since the stranger was focused on Sarah, he missed Jaimison’s fist until it
smacked him in the head. The driver stood on the dashboard and flung a dagger
at Jaimison, catching the big man a glancing blow on his shoulder.

Perry launched himself from the front to the dashboard and
grabbed the driver. The man raised an arm, another dagger in his hand ready to
strike.

Someone yanked on his coat, loosening his hold on the driver
and pulling him back from the downward swipe of the descending blade. He hit
the ground with a grunt, something soft beneath him.

He started to spring to his feet but Sarah’s hands held him
fast and he growled as the wolf surged forward, wanting to hunt its prey,
destroy the threat to his mate. A knife whizzed past his ear. Had he been
standing he’d have been stabbed. The driver spurred the horses forward,
careening through the village streets.

Damn. I should have been better prepared.
He turned
and lifted Sarah to her feet. “Are you hurt?” he demanded.

She was breathless but seemed unharmed. “I am not.”

The other miscreant was out cold. Jaimison sat on the
ground, his hand clutched to his shoulder and blood oozing between his fingers.

“Get me a towel,” Perry shouted to the innkeeper.

He kneeled beside Jaimison and ripped away his cravat to
press against the wound. The knife had been buried deep in the back of his
shoulder and Jaimison had yanked it out, the bloody weapon lying beside him.

“I will go for a doctor,” Sarah said, her voice shaky and
her face white.

“No.” He didn’t want her out of his sight. “Send a servant. We
don’t know where the doctor resides. Help me get him to our room.” There was a
settee there and Perry’s experience with knife wounds was that lying flat was
uncomfortable.

Sarah didn’t argue. She helped Perry to heave Jaimison to
his feet. His man of business was stubborn. “My legs are fine, sir.”

“You’ve lost blood. It can make you dizzy,” Sarah said,
reminding him of the scars she still had on her back from her experience of
blood loss.

“What about…?” Jaimison glanced back over his shoulder and
Perry noted that the other man was gone.

“It doesn’t matter, Jaimison.” Sarah locked arms with Perry
at Jaimison’s back and helped the man up the stairs. “They don’t matter.”

Perry knew she was right. The two men had been paid to
attack them. Who had given the orders was the only important thing. And Perry
was sure he already knew who’d done it.

A message was sent to Monsieur du Bussein explaining their
late arrival and another servant dispatched for the doctor. Luckily Bayeux had
a good doctor who cleaned and sewed Jaimison’s wound.

“Rest is all he needs,” the doctor said. “The wound wasn’t
deep enough to cause concern.”

Jaimison met Perry’s gaze. “Go. I’ll be fine. I don’t like
it, but waiting is not an option.”

He nodded. “We won’t stay. I’m sure our host will
understand.”

Sarah took Jaimison’s hand. “I’ve asked the maid to look in
on you. We will stay for tea and come back.”

They obtained their rented carriage and Perry insisted on
driving it with Sarah beside him. As he prepared his pistol and stowed it
beneath the seat, he made his argument. “I know the wind will muss your pretty
hair, but I insist. I feel I can protect you better if you are by my side.”

She gave him no argument but placed her hand in his and
joined him in the carriage. He was surprised that she trembled.

When she was settled he urged the horses forward and the
carriage bumbled along the cobbled streets. She was too quiet and he didn’t
know how to break the silence without frightening her.

“It was Lady North, wasn’t it?” she said in a small voice he
barely heard over the clapping hooves of the team.

“I think so,” he replied.

“They were aiming for me.” Her fingers were wrapped around
his right arm and they squeezed him in fear.

“Yes.” He didn’t lie to her. “Can you think why? Why does
Lady North want to stop you so insistently?”

She was silent for so long, he wondered if she would answer.
But she finally did. “She showed me some documents, papers that she never
allowed you or anyone else to see.” She inhaled a shuddering breath. “They were
copies of the very scrolls I must read at the monastery. Incomplete copies. Faded
and, in some instances, unreadable.” Her hand clenched on his arm. “They were
specific family lines, all documented, with notations.”

He had to wait again as she seemed to struggle with
something, some internal argument against speaking. When she spoke there were
tears in her voice. “My birth was carefully planned, my mother’s marriage to my
father arranged long before they were even born. There is always one, the
scrolls said, who can end the curse.”

“You.”

She nodded. “But they warn that the one who tries to break
the curse must not be Claimed by a wolf. They do not reveal why, but they
seemed clear.”

“So why are we here, Sarah?” He glanced at her pensive face.
“I Claimed you before we left England.”

“There is a way but the papers say it requires a blood
sacrifice.”

Blood sacrifice. He didn’t like the sound of that. “And your
blood will break the curse? How?” he asked sharply.

For three years he’d watched her wait on him and his
sister-in-law. He’d noted her moods, her quirks, her smiles. When she lied he
knew that too. Her answer was evasive and deceptive. “The scrolls were not
specific.”

He tightened his hands on the reins. Why was he surprised
that she didn’t trust him? She might want him, desire him, but anything more
would be foolish, surely. “So we are going to the monastery to view the scrolls
there to find out?”

“I have to see those scrolls.” Still evading. Her
earnestness was not feigned. .

He gritted his teeth and nodded sharply. “And so you shall.”
The manor house loomed before them and he brought the horses to a stop. When a
servant gripped the reins, Perry leaned in close to his mate and whispered,
“You will tell me everything.” There was an underlying sensual threat to his
demand and she shuddered.

The lust mixed with apprehension he noted in her quick glance
was gratifying. He jumped down from the carriage hastily and stepped in front
of the footman, who offered to help Sarah down. Instead Perry lifted her from
the seat, his hands on her hips and his gaze locked with hers.

She stared at him when her feet touched the ground and a
sweet blush flared over her cheeks. “Thank you, sir,” she said.

“Take my arm, my love. It has been a very trying day for
you.” He gave her no choice but tucked her hand beneath his arm and walked with
her to the door. He would have liked to cancel the engagement but they needed
access to the monastery and the scrolls.

She did not know it yet but he had determined they would
face the future, whatever evils it might hold, together.

* * * * *

The tea was strong and restored Sarah’s spirits. Lady du
Bussein was a plump, motherly type who gasped and commiserated when Perry
informed her of the reason for their delay. The Count du Bussein, her son, was
a young man with an open air about him and a quickness to smile. Sarah found
him charming but rather naïve. She was surprised to find he was only a year
older than she and, at twenty-five, he seemed young and inexperienced.

To think that this boy was the same age as Perry was
inconceivable. But it was so. The count flirted with her despite her married
state but in a lighthearted way, meaning no harm. Perry seemed to accept it and
entertained Lady du Bussein.

Permission to visit the monastery was granted and Lady du
Bussein invited them to dinner at a later date.

Everything was smooth and easy. It was a serene moment
during their travels and Sarah was disposed to appreciate it. Mother and son
were gracious as Perry and Sarah took their leave with no hidden judgment or
condescension. Sarah was to look back on these precious few hours as a happy
lull before the storm.

The sun began to sink behind the trees as they made their
way back to the inn. The Norman countryside was filled with color as the
changing of the seasons from summer to fall influenced the landscape. Perry had
said very little and Sarah wondered if he’d truly meant what he’d implied
earlier. Would he punish her if she did not reveal all?

The thought both terrified her and thrilled her.

She was not sure what would happen when she revealed what
she suspected. Though Lady North had hinted at things and not said them
directly, and because the woman was biased, Sarah was not positive that her
beliefs in this case were well-founded.

As the carriage bumped and rattled over the cobbled road,
she considered how much to tell Perry. Should she only tell him what she was
sure of? Should she tell him what she’d gleaned from her own instincts? The
first was easily shown but the second was not.

The scrolls would confirm what she did know for certain—that
her bloodline was foretold and planned. What was clear was that one descendent
in every two hundred years was capable of ending the curse. How could she tell
Perry that two of her ancestors—one in 1433 and one in 1692—had attempted to
break the curse and failed?

“There’s a wolf out there,” Perry said in her ear. To anyone
watching it would have seemed as if Perry were whispering something sweet or
intimate. His voice was pitched low and soft. “Be still. He’s stalking us.”

She clung to him and was immediately ashamed of herself for
it. “Is it the one that attacked me before?”

Perry’s eyes turned blue as he inhaled the air around them. “It
could be.” He kept the horses galloping at a quick pace.

It wasn’t only the strange wolf that had tried to kidnap
her. Men much like the ones who had attacked them earlier rode out of the tree
line. Pistols fired and Perry handed her the reins. She gripped the leather in
her hands as he changed from man to wolf and leaped at the nearest man on
horseback.

She pulled back and stopped the horses. Perry had stashed a
pistol under the seat and she used it. Her father had insisted she learn to use
a firearm and she was grateful for that odd practice now.

She aimed carefully and fired. The man screamed as the ball
tore through his belly. It was a struggle to reload and while she fumbled a
bit, a man hopped onto the carriage. He gripped her arm, a toothless grin
widening his dirty mouth.

Knowing that if she cried out she might distract Perry, she
used the pistol to hit the man in the face. When he clutched his cheek she
lifted her skirt and kicked him in the genitals.

As the man fought to get up from the ground she finally got
the pistol loaded and aimed in his direction. When he insisted on climbing up
to get her, she fired point-blank and he fell lifeless into the dust.

Shaking, stunned, Sarah didn’t know if she could recover. Two
men’s lives had been cut short because of her. How many more were there? She
glanced backward and the sight made her stomach roll.

The carnage was terrible. At least four other men lay dead
and lifeless, their blood spilled on the ground and deep, mortal wounds gaping
on their bodies. Perry was locked in a hand-to-hand battle with the same wolf
that had threatened her in England.

Her heart stopped when Perry’s adversary slashed down and
Perry barely managed to escape harm. Perry swiped his claws across the other
wolf’s face and blood sprayed over them both. The cry of pain was followed by a
howl of frustration and the wolf sprang to all four of its paws and sprinted
into the forest.