McNeely, Rachel - The Marquis' Mystical Witch (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Read online

  He turned his lips into her palm and kissed the heated skin. “Your hand is tiny and soft, yet it brings such relief.”

  With a little tug, he brought her around to face him. In one quick movement, he had her in his lap and his lips covered hers. While his warm lips ravaged her mouth, his hand caressed along her neck and slipped inside the bodice of her gown.

  An intense ache moved through her body to the core of her. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her breast rose to fill his hand. All she was aware of was him, his heat, the male smell of him and her body’s hunger for his touch.

  Reluctantly, he pulled back. His eyes blazed with fire, then slowly cooled to their usual golden color. “I think you’d better go upstairs. I have work to finish tonight.” His deep velvet voice wove its magic around her.

  “Won’t you join me?” She blushed at her forwardness.

  He brushed his hand across her heated cheek. “Not tonight.”

  He helped her stand. She started to plead with him but saw his resolve.

  “Good night,” she whispered. She took a lone candle to lead her way to bed. Wulf did not respond to her leaving, and she didn’t look back.

  * * * *

  Wulf woke with a start. He had little memory of coming upstairs and going to bed. He’d slept through the night. This was unusual for him and unexpected after the encounter with Thea that sparked fire in his blood. His hand rubbed his scars. There was no pain. His wife had magical hands.

  As he became more awake, he remembered their visitor. Damn, he should have told her the whole story. Yesterday’s shock was his fault. The pressure increased to tell her the rest of his secrets, and yet he held back, mainly because he feared her reaction. There was time yet, he hoped. He would wait.

  Pulling his curtains aside, he opened the window. Damp, cool air from recent rains filled the room. Thea’s sister should arrive soon and he hoped she’d keep Thea busy and less curious about her new husband. He’d sent the letter right after yesterday’s incident.

  Wulf walked briskly into the small dining room, fully expecting to be alone. Thea sat at the table with a plate of food and her tea.

  “Good morning.” She smiled.

  “You are up early.”

  “I hoped I might ride with you this morning to see more of the estate.” Her open face showed her eagerness.

  Wulf knew he couldn't refuse. “We will pick you a mare to ride, and after I show you around, you can go on your own whenever you wish.”

  Thea laughed. “I would like that very much. I rode almost every day when Mama and Papa were alive.”

  “Your uncle did not let you ride?”

  “No, there were other things I needed to do.”

  Wulf sat down after filling his plate with food. “When we finish eating, we’ll go to the stables.”

  Her face lit up like Jane’s when he’d given her a particularly pleasant surprise. When she smiled at him this way, it drove away the blackness and kept the monster at bay. This morning he felt young and strong, and for the first time in a very long time, hopeful.

  Wulf ate quickly seeing Thea finished and ready. He led the way to the stables and along the stalls to Grey Ghost. “She’s a mare from my stallion, spunky but safe.”

  Thea put her hand up to pet the mare and the horse immediately licked her hand and nuzzled her. Wulf remembered how Batair went to her. “You do have a gift with animals.”

  “Yes, they seem to like me.”

  “I believe animals, especially horses and dogs, are a good judge of character.”

  “Oh, I do too.” She chuckled. “Mary, my old mare at home, would snort and kick the stall whenever Uncle Rigby came to the stables. And she has always been a calm, quiet horse.”

  “Would you like to bring your mare here?”

  “Uncle Rigby would never allow it.”

  Wulf didn’t respond, but determined he would find out if Hawley had found any pertinent information on the uncle. She would have her horse.

  The stable boy saddled Grey Ghost while Wulf readied Batair, and then they rode south. The path led through pasture land covered with bluebells and wildflowers. The air, fresh from night rains, also had the scent of new cut hay.

  Wulf glanced at Thea, admiring her seat and the way she held the reins, in charge but loose, not pulling on the mare’s mouth. He let himself imagine many such rides and children on small ponies riding with them.

  Could it be possible? Don’t think too far ahead. There was much to be accomplished, before he started to dream. Although, at this moment, looking at his wife with the sun shining on her silky black curls, delight captured in eyes the color of new green leaves, and her skin glowing with happiness, anything seemed possible.

  “I’ll race you to the trees,” she said, pointing to a thicket of willows.

  “You’re on.” He gave her a second’s leave before Batair tore off after her. Her hat blew off, and she slowed for a second. Batair raced past her. Wulf dismounted to greet her.

  Breathless, she went to Batair and patted him. “I knew we could not beat you. You’re magnificent.” The horse raised his head and snorted then nuzzled her neck.

  “Here.” Wulf handed her an apple from his knapsack. He watched the horse eat it from her hand. What magic did this woman weave to be able to tame his mighty horse and—if he was being honest—himself?

  They stood side by side, looking back at the ancestral home in the distance. “You must be very proud. Your estate is wonderful.”

  He studied it with fresh eyes, in ways he hadn’t since he’d become a man and all the darkness had filled him. A feeling unknown or forgotten crept over him. He was afraid to admit it might be joy for fear it would disappear.

  “I am sure it is nothing to worry about, but I have been trying to remember to tell you that I saw a huge wolf the other night come right up to the side of the house. Do you often see wolves around here?” She raised her eyes to him.

  At first her words didn’t register, but when they did, the joy and brightness of the day swiftly fled.

  Cold dread ran down his spine. “A few.” He touched his face. “I got these from tangling with a wolf. It is best not to venture out after dark, unless I am with you.”

  She shivered and wrapped her arms around her waist. “I suppose you can’t get rid of them all with such a large acreage?”

  “No. I have a huge estate and much of it is woods.” In the distance, he saw storm clouds forming. “We’d best ride for home. It will rain soon.” And his blackness returned, mocking him for even thinking he might escape.

  Chapter Eleven

  Thea made her way up the stairs and into the attic. It was an ideal day to search for hidden treasure, cloudy and cool outside. She’d worn another old, long sleeved wool gown, so she'd be warm and not have to worry if she got dirty.

  There were numerous old trunks and a few discarded toys, one, a faded rocking horse. In a small box, she found painted army men and miniature horses. A warm glow filled her heart. She’d dreamed about having a home filled with children. She pictured them in the nursery just below her, playing with toy horses and soldiers or riding the rocking horse. Under the box were several dolls, each wrapped in white linen. Forcing herself to move on, she opened one of the large trunks.

  As she’d hoped, she found drapes in lighter colors and still in good repair. She'd start with these, until she found someone to make new ones. Choosing the right fabric would be fun and then she’d have a seamstress sew them. For now, these light blue drapes would brighten the grand lounge.

  She took all morning going through different trunks finding old gowns and lace shawls. Several of the shawls, still delicate and beautiful, she set aside to take to her room.

  Deciding she’d done enough for the day, she took one last look further down under some silk ball gowns. Her hand touched something hard. Pulling the silk aside, she saw a small box wrapped in a linen handkerchief. Curious, she pulled it out.

  After removing the material, Thea
saw faint writing on the top. To the Bride. Chills coursed through Thea’s blood. She glanced around the empty attic, half expecting to see someone standing in a corner.

  She opened the box and stared at the necklace. The amulet was one part smooth shiny gold. The other half looked like someone took a knife and scarred the surface. One side was cool and smooth, and the scratched side rough and hot. Thea ran her finger across the ridges and jerked her hand back, looking down at a thin cut on her fingertip. The drop of blood sizzled on the scarred side of the amulet and disappeared into the ridges.

  She gasped and dropped the amulet back into the box, quickly putting the lid on. She sensed an evil entity around her. She must take this to grandmamma. Should she tell Wulf about her discovery or wait? She'd take the necklace to her room and decide later. It was time for the noon meal.

  She rewrapped the box with the linen cloth. She'd hide it under the shawls she’d retrieved, in one of her drawers.

  She wished her mother had had more time to teach her about magic before she died. Thea was aware magic could be used for good or evil, and she sensed the amulet represented both.

  What did it mean and why was it hidden in the attic? Thea chewed on her lip. The air in the attic stirred and for a moment she heard a distant laugh. Taking the things she'd found, Thea hurried out of the attic and down the stairs to her room. Here the warmth and bright sunlight almost convinced her she'd been imagining things, until she went to put the box with the amulet inside away and felt it vibrate.

  Wulf did not join her at the dining table. Disappointed, Thea ate quickly and paced restlessly around the downstairs. Finally, she sat at her desk to write Elvie a letter. Still not able to concentrate, she gave up on writing and went to the library to find a book, but found it difficult to focus on anything.

  Where was Wulf? His study was empty, she thought. She'd started to turn away when she saw a door, inside the room, standing slightly ajar. She hadn’t noticed it on her tour through the house. Tiptoeing closer, she observed how it was normally hidden by thick blue drapes.

  Quietly, she peeked around the door’s edge. Sitting at a tall table looking down at something he was working on in his hands, she found Wulf. The light from a nearby candle reflected off the gold in his brown hair. A lock fell across his forehead. She stood mesmerized, observing his hands creating a tiny woodland creature from a small block of wood.

  He turned his head, and his eyes stared into hers. The deep gold color flared fiery red, and then imperceptibly, his eyes cooled to the more familiar golden brown.

  “Did you need something, my dear?” His cool, clipped voice did not welcome her.

  “I saw the open door. I didn’t know this room existed.”

  “I prefer most people don’t. This is my private sanctuary.”

  In spite of his cool reception, she found herself drawn in. Her hand reached out and touched a squirrel sitting on its hind legs holding a nut. “Your work is beautiful. He looks like he would come to life, if you breathed on him.”

  Wulf shrugged. “This is my hobby. For times I want to be alone.” He stressed the last word.

  “I understand. Forgive me for disturbing you.” Thea backed to the door and went out closing it behind her. She pulled the drapes shut and left the room. Her husband was determined to keep her at arm’s length in every part of his life.

  * * * *

  He’d seen her eyes. She was observant and caught the change in his. When he’d looked up and saw her standing there, a wave of desire rolled through him. Even now he smelled her particular scent of woman, sweet flowers and her desire. The wolf in him found it more and more difficult not to reach out and take her. He wanted to run his fingers over her soft skin, taste her, sink into her soft body and claim her as his own.

  The wolf and the man wanted her. The wolf had no patience. The man had to fight his desire. Not yet, not yet. If he took her now, the wolf won and he might have a son to carry on the curse. But how long could he manage to hang on to his control? The wolf was getting stronger.

  He’d been damn careless to leave the door open and curtains aside. He couldn’t afford to make mistakes. The tension inside him tightened. The hunger of the wolf curled inside grew. He wanted out, again.

  Wulf hit his fist against the wood table and accepted the pain to take away the thoughts of the wolf. His mood ruined, he left the room and headed for the stables. He'd ride Batair through the rain and wind and try to control his hunger.

  He hoped her sister arrived soon. Perhaps the two of them could keep busy with the household and out of his business.

  * * * *

  Wulf and Thea sat silently at the table. She'd seen him ride off after her visit to his private room. His hair still shone damp and shiny from his ride. He’d changed into black breeches and coat. He was a dark, troubled, handsome man, and she desired him more every day.

  The fish, though soft and tasty, stuck in her dry throat, and she washed it down with red wine. A drop fell on the white tablecloth, reminding her of how she’d cut her finger on the amulet. She would tell him now, but she preferred the servants not overhear. She'd wait.

  The meal finally came to an end, and she stood. Wulf stayed, leaning back in his chair and staring into space. “Will you join me in a few minutes? I will play the pianoforte.”

  He roused himself and glanced at her, no expression on his face. “No, thank you. Not tonight.”

  She bent her head and left the room. Coldness settled inside her. She'd go to the sitting room and get her book. Her bedroom, with a cozy fire, would be much more comforting.

  Changed into her wool nightgown and settled in a chair by the fire, Thea pulled a blanket over her lap and legs. Outside the wind howled and a tree branch knocked against her window pane. Inside, at least for now there was warmth and safety.

  She must have gone to sleep. When she awoke, her legs had stiffened from being curled under her. The fire had died down and smoldered. The only light in the night sky was a sliver of moon.

  Thea got up and started toward her bed, but stopped at the windows. In the distance, she saw the dark shapes of tall trees and then she looked closer, where a solitary moving shape caught her eye. She pressed her nose against the pane, and saw the wolf. It was not as distinct tonight, more a shadow, a different shade of black in the blackness of the night. The wolf ran toward the house, going around the same side and disappeared.

  Tomorrow she'd search that area for some sign. Did the wolf have a place to burrow down for the night close beside the house? If so, she intended to find it.

  She climbed into bed and curled into a ball, seeking warmth. Almost asleep, she thought she heard her husband’s voice on the other side of the locked door.

  Why would Wulf be up so early?

  * * * *

  After a quick breakfast, Thea hurried outside. Sunlight peeked around the clouds. Thank goodness, the earlier rain had stopped. She wore short boots since the ground was muddy. Lifting up her skirts, she walked around the house toward the place she last saw the wolf.

  She spotted footprints leading to a large yew hedge with lovely white roses planted in front of it. She donned her gloves and slid into the small area between the hedge and the wall of the house. At the bottom of the wall, almost hidden from sight, was a long, rather narrow opening.

  A large wolf would have to struggle to get through such an opening. And where did it lead to? The cellar? She must return to the house and check. Her heart beat faster, thinking about a wolf inside the house, running along the corridors. And I thought I was safe last night. She'd never feel safe again until she found out where the wolf hid.

  Mrs. Sanders tried to reassure Thea. “It's impossible for a wolf to get inside, my lady,” she protested, while following Thea to the cellar.

  There were no openings.

  “This is the bottom floor?” Thea asked Mrs. Sanders.

  “Yes, my lady. See, you have nothing to worry about. You probably had a bad dream. We haven't seen a wolf aro
und the house in many a year.”

  “Of course you are right, Mrs. Sanders. How silly of me.”

  “Not to worry. This is an old house. It gives a fright to us at times.” She smiled, her eyes reflecting kindness.

  Cheeks hot with embarrassment, Thea readily agreed, and the two returned upstairs.

  “I’ll send you a pot of hot tea and some fresh scones,” Mrs. Sanders said.

  “A good cup of tea does seem to make things right. I'll be in the sitting room.”

  Thea strolled around the room, touching small figurines on a side table and fluffing the cushions on the gold sofa. She saw the opening outside. Mrs. Sanders' reassurance did not calm the flutter of uneasiness in her stomach or the preposterous thoughts beginning to form in her mind.

  She decided to go back outside and check the opening again. As she stepped out the front door, she saw a black speck in the distance. Gradually, the object grew larger, and she realized it was a carriage coming down the muddy drive toward the house. More neighbors? She hoped not.

  Hurrying back inside, she went to the sitting room, picked up the book she’d discarded the other day and tried to read. Bailey would take care of any visitors. Wulf had left specific instructions after Lady Goodman’s visit.

  She heard voices. It couldn’t be. Thea dropped her book and hurried to the door. Her sister stood in the foyer, smiling at Bailey.

  “Elvie.” Thea ran to her with open arms.

  “I came as quick as I could after I received Lord Radford’s invitation,” Elvie said. “I thought I would have to wait at least another few weeks.”

  “Lord Radford sent for you?”

  “You didn't know?

  Thea shook her head. “He must have wanted to surprise me.” Or divert my attention. It didn’t matter, she was glad to have Elvie with her.

  Thea glanced around and saw Mrs. Sanders. “Do we have a room ready for my sister?”

  “Lord Radford instructed us to prepare a room in the south wing.”