The Witch and the Wolf Page 3

  Lillian frowned. “Have you looked out your window, Mel? I cannot know where you are but here the snow is practically up to the roof. I doubt we will have access to any means of transportation for some time. I am simply stuck here.”

  “It is imperative that you leave that place!”

  Melora could repeat her warning all she wanted, Lillian knew it would be impossible for her to go anywhere in weather such as this and though she knew to take her sister’s predictions to heart, she also knew there were times when Melora had been mistaken.

  “I will try,” Lillian said, to appease the younger woman. She had no desire to worry her sister overmuch. They each had enough worry. “I will summon you through the mirror later.”

  “Have a care,” Melora cautioned.

  Lillian nodded. “I will, sister.”

  She reached out her hand and touched the mirror causing a ripple to take hold and the image of her sister slowly faded. When it smoothed out, Lillian once again looked at a disheveled woman in great need of rest. She blew air out of her mouth in a whoosh of exhaustion and then turned her head to stare at a space to the left of the fireplace. Her eyes narrowed as a thought formed into her mind.

  It would be nice to soak in a hot bath.

  She returned to rummage in her bag looking for the vial she needed to conjure a bathtub filled to brimming with hot scented water.

  Chapter Four

  The next day, Lillian awoke refreshed and rejuvenated. In fact, she could not recall a day she felt so well. Even after she dressed in the garments North had left for her and looked out of the window to see the snow still falling as it had been last night, the fact that she was snowbound here did not distress her. She hoped she would find North at breakfast for she looked forward to seeing him again. In one way, she wanted to test herself, to see if her reaction to him was just a residue of her fatigue from last night or if perhaps it was something more.

  She sat in front of the mirror and studied her reflection. The dark circles beneath her eyes had faded somewhat. She pulled her mass of curly dark hair and pinned it up on top of her head, allowing a few tendrils to cascade down her back. The hairstyle complimented her dress, which was a simple yet elegant design. She fingered the material and wondered from whom he had borrowed it. She frowned at the possibility this may be his wife’s. She had taken no note of a ring on his finger but that did not assure her he was unmarried. In fact, it disturbed her to think he might be married, or even attached in some marital arrangement. He was quite handsome. It was foolish of her to consider he might be available. Surely, within one London Season he would be snatched up by one of the many beauties that caught the eyes of men such as him.

  Unfortunately, Lillian was not one of those. A beauty. She considered herself in the mirror, admitting that she might be pretty, her skin pale and clear. Her eyes bright and healthy. Her teeth straight and white. Her hair, however, was the bane of her existence; curly beyond belief and the color a simple dark brown. Nothing beautiful about that. Not to mention, it never seemed to stay put. She knew from past experience that by noon, those few tendrils she had allowed to slip free would be joined by a mass of others.

  Living with her uncle as she had for the past six years, she had had no reason to worry over much about her appearance. Living like a hermit, he had never offered her or her sister a Season in London. He never had the money for it. Instead, he had squandered what wealth they possessed on his own personal vices and had left them destitute.

  And the leading reason for her current situation.

  She glanced at the reflection of the door behind her.

  Not certain what manner of hours her host and his companion kept, she had stayed in her room for a good length of time. She listened keenly hoping to hear his door open from across the hall, but as of yet she heard no such sound. Eyeing the sunlight outside, even with the ongoing storm, she knew the morning to be well under way.

  Perhaps she should make good use of herself. If what he said last night was true, and they were, indeed, alone here, then there was no cook to prepare a proper breakfast. That mattered little to her. Lillian knew her way around the kitchen. She shook her head to dispel thoughts of her dastardly uncle and his reprehensible plans, determined instead to enjoy her short visit here with the strong and handsome Lord Jeremy North. The fluttering in her belly made her giddy at the mere thought of him. The smile that crept over her lips was not one she recognized on her own face. It had been quite a while since she had reason to smile, and she enjoyed the novelty of it.

  After opening the door to her room, she paused, listening for any movement across the way. Hearing none, she made her way down to the kitchen. She discovered it with ease, even in a house as big as this.

  Lillian found Amery sitting at a table reading. The strong aroma of coffee hovered in the air as he lifted a steaming cup and took a tentative sip.

  “Oh.” Surprised to see him, she paused at the entrance. “Good morning.”

  Amery lowered the paper and offered her a smile of welcome. “You’re looking a mite better this morning. How do you feel?”

  “Quite well, thank you.” She walked into the room and found the pot of coffee he had brewed. Pouring a cup for herself, she turned to him and asked, “Have you eaten?”

  He shook his head. “With all the excitement last night, I couldn’t be sure as to how you might keep your morning so I thought it best to wait. Nothing worse than a cold breakfast.”

  “Excellent!” She said, beaming. “Then I shall prepare it for you.”

  “You?”

  She smiled at the shock she heard in his voice. “Of course,” she answered. “How else can I ever repay you and your master for your kindness?”

  After a moment of astonished hesitation, he blurted, “No need, miss. No need, at all.”

  “Oh, pshh,” she replied, waving her hand at him. She busied herself with her preparations, wandering about and opening cupboards and drawers until she found the stash of supplies and an assortment of other items in the pantry. It would be a simple fare but she knew it would be delicious.

  “How is it that you know your way about the kitchen, miss?” Amery stood and stepped closer to her, watching her with a fascination that she should find disturbing but didn’t. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

  “Hmm,” she mumbled. She had come to the conclusion last night that she must listen to her instincts. Aunt Petunia always preached about following her intuition. It would never lead her astray. As Lillian had drifted off to sleep last night, she wondered if she had meant to lose her way on the road so that she might find herself here.

  With him.

  She could not stop the feeling that perhaps he was the solution to her plight.

  “I’ve had some experience while living with my uncle,” she said. “You can find that I am quite useful.”

  “You’re no housekeeper or cook?” He asked a doubtful glint in his eyes.

  She shook her head.

  “Just who exactly are you?”

  “Amery.”

  The warning note in the softly spoken voice sounded like a shout followed by sudden silence. She spun, looking at the entrance where North stood staring aghast. Dressed appropriately this morning, he appeared far from the disheveled state of last night. The only reminders of an apparently sleepless night were the dark circles beneath his eyes. It gave him a haunted, pained look.

  She frowned, hoping she had not been the cause of such a tortured night.

  “What do you think you are about?” North asked, stepping into the room. “Why would you submit Miss Merriweather to cooking her own breakfast?”

  “I did no such thing!” Amery shouted, stung at his master’s reprimand.

  “No, no!” Lillian said, jumping to Amery’s defense. “I volunteered. I was just telling him how I cooked for my sister and uncle so often that I know my way about the kitchen well enough. In fact, it would be an honor to cook for you since I am so grateful for your rescuing me last nigh
t.”

  North’s brow furrowed. He didn’t seem to approve of her in the kitchen, certainly something no lady would do, but after her explanation he didn’t pursue the topic or continue to chastise his man. “I did nothing of the sort, miss. You rescued yourself by finding your way to this house.”

  “Ah,” she said, waving a spoon at him in denial. “But you opened the door. If not for that, I might have frozen on your doorstep just as Mr. Amery had feared.”

  North shook his head. “I would have heard you. I have very sharp hearing, more so now than ever.” This last he mumbled close to his chest as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Though she heard the words, Lillian could not understand what he meant by them. She opened her mouth to inquire after the meaning of such a cryptic sentence when Amery jerked from his position and walked swiftly toward her.

  “Here, miss,” he said, a strained smile on his face. “Allow me to assist you.”

  She wanted to argue that she could manage quite well on her own but she caught the glance the two men shared, a veiled look full of meaning. Puzzled, she said nothing to dissuade Amery from assisting her.

  Was it something she had done that caused Amery to keep glancing at his master in such a worried way?

  She enjoyed Amery’s company while he helped her prepare the dishes. The time passed quickly and before she realized it, they were seated at the table to enjoy their baked eggs, sausages with mashed potatoes, cold veal pies, pound cake, hot rolls, toast and, of course, kippers which became apparent were North’s favorite. It was a most delicious meal. She noted in the men’s hearty appetites that they enjoyed it as well.

  After they finished, Amery proceeded to clean the dishes away from the table. She stood to assist, but he waved her down, scowling fiercely. “No you don’t, miss. The master couldn’t allow such a thing as you dirtying your pretty fingers on the washing.”

  She did not argue seeing that look pass between them again. It was obvious they hid something, and she was curious to discover what it could be. She decided to bide her time and watch closely. Eventually the answer would reveal itself.

  “I see the snow continues,” Lillian said, standing and walking toward the window to confirm what she had witnessed this morning. Just as she had surmised, tiny flakes continued to fall from the thick gray clouds. “I must beg your indulgence to allow my intrusion a bit longer.”

  She turned around in time to see them share another worried frown, but then North stood and joined her by the window. “No bother at all, Miss Merriweather. We are glad to have your company. I only wish I had my staff return a few days earlier so you would not be forced to fend for yourself while I have any number of maids who could assist you.”

  She smiled.

  “Perhaps you might join me for a stroll through the house?” he inquired after a short grunt from Amery interrupted his last statement. “I believe you might be interested in seeing some of the fixtures.”

  Her brows rose at the suggestion, and she knew he made it to distance himself, and perhaps her as well, from the disapproving Amery who stood glowering at them as he tidied up in the kitchen. She nodded, and North held out his arm in a gallant gesture that contrasted sharply with their environment. Such a move she would have thought to see in a London ballroom.

  She accepted his invitation and together they walked from room to room in the house. He pointed out several items of interest, and she had to admit he had a lovely home indeed. As she had supposed the night before, this house was well cared for, and she knew he must have any number of servants on his staff to keep a house this size polished and dust free.

  When she found herself in the library she gasped, halting North’s dialogue about the history of the grounds.

  “What?” he asked with a sharp turn in her direction.

  She stared in awe at the room filled to near bursting with books of all sizes and colors. She had never seen so many tomes in one room before. Without a word, she walked to one of the overflowing shelves and perused the titles she found there. “Shakespeare’s Sonnets, Cunningham’s Herbs, A Guide Through the District Lakes by Wordsworth, Clark’s Remedies of Unnatural Humour’s…” she read aloud, pausing to glance at North who still stood in the doorframe. “You have quite a collection,” she said with a smile.

  One title caught her attention. “The Young Ladies’ New Guide to Arithmetic by John Grieg? That seems a strange selection for a gentleman’s library.” She tilted her face toward him and smiled.

  He chuckled. “My sister’s,” he replied.

  Lillian’s chest tightened at the sight of his smile. And she now knew from whom he had ‘borrowed’ the dress.

  Her evident admiration seemed to spur him into a more relaxed state, and he stepped casually into the room to join her. “You enjoy reading?”

  She straightened from her crouched position after she had examined the titles. Looking directly into his eyes, she could not stop the smile from widening upon her face. “I absolutely adore books,” she proclaimed, and then hesitated, her smile slipped somewhat. “I know you must not approve, a woman with such an avid interest…”

  “Not at all,” he interrupted. “I am intrigued.”

  She grimaced. “You must think me a veritable bluestocking.”

  He shook his head in denial. “Why should I criticize anyone for an interest that I, myself, share?”

  Her smile firmly back in place, she turned back to further study the shelf. “You have a number of medical related topics. Does someone in your family suffer a propensity for ill health?”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him stiffen beside her. She glanced cautiously at him before returning to the books.

  “A peculiar fascination, nothing more,” he said, then turned the conversation back to her. “What manner of topics do you find most stimulating?”

  She straightened, picked a book off the shelf and thumbed absently through the pages before replacing it back on the shelf. “Any number of things. I find I have a vast interest in information,” she admitted, shyly. “Although, I do find these plant and herb books to be quite to my taste.” She brushed her hand across the spines of a few books. “This one in particular I have myself,” she said, tapping on one large volume near the top.

  “Intriguing,” he said, a smile curving his lips. “And how do you find Mr. Cunningham’s illustrations?”

  “Much to be desired, I’m afraid,” she admitted. “Aunt Petunia needed to save me from collecting the wrong plant because I referred to one illustration in particular. It would have created quite a mess indeed if she had not interfered.”

  “Really? What were you doing with such plants?”

  Lillian hesitated, her hand stopping on the shelf. Should she tell him? She saw him watching her with interest and though she wanted to be honest with him, she felt she could trust him, at the same time, she found it difficult to speak of something she kept private all her life. Aunt Petunia had warned her to never let anyone besides her family to know of her abilities. People wouldn’t understand.

  She studied him for a brief moment, judging what his response might be if she revealed her secret to him. How would he react the moment she whispered, I’m a witch? Lillian knew in the past some in her family had been murdered for uttering such phrases. In league with the devil, the masses had shouted. She shivered at the possibility that he might agree with such ignorance.

  “What is it?” He asked, the sudden concern in his eyes alerting her to the fact that she revealed too much in her expression. She lowered her gaze and stepped away from the shelf, wandering absently over to another to inspect the titles.

  Lillian said nothing. She felt his gaze on her shoulders, and they tightened involuntarily. Several times, she opened her mouth prepared to tell him.

  At last, she turned, straightened her shoulders, looked him in the eye and said, “When do you think it will stop snowing?”

  ****

  The morning flew into afternoon. North did not even mark the passage
of time. In fact, he seemed to be in a haze of the unfamiliar. For once, since the day his terrible condition took hold, he did not dread the coming night with fear for turning into a monster. Oh, no. Today his fear took on a new source. And it was not the night he dreaded but the ending of this storm.

  He rubbed his eyes, shutting them as if he could block the sight of her from them. Her image refused elimination. Behind closed lids, he could see her still as she sat on the sofa before the fire, reading a book she had chosen from his library. He could not believe the last few hours had sped by so quickly. Conversation with her was as nothing he had ever before experienced. They had quizzed each other on various topics. It intrigued him to find a woman who shared so many of his interests.

  Even as they spoke of mundane matters, he could not stop from remembering last night. She’d been the cause of his sleepless night, not the fact that when the moon rose, he would become a beast. A creature that would make this beautiful woman run screaming into the ferocious storm that continued to encase them in a wintry blanket.

  He stared at her.

  If only the storm would continue and the night would never come. He could not recall a day in which he experienced such contentment. Such ease and comfort as he had never known. And all of this because of a woman.

  Lillian Merriweather.

  She had her secrets. At several moments during the course of the day, he had attempted to bring their conversation round to the reasons behind the adventure that led her into a snow-filled night, but with a seductively innocent smile, she easily turned his attention to something else. He thought of asking her outright but he did not wish to offend. He wanted to give her time to acclimate herself with him.

  To trust him.

  Ah, God. He felt his stomach tighten with revulsion at the thoughts that churned within his skull. The very things he could never have.

  Marriage.

  Commitment.

  A wife.

  Lillian.

  He had never met a woman such as she. She made him feel alive for the first time in his life. He felt anything was possible with her at his side if only she would stay there forever. And he knew as no one else did that it could never be.