Chapter Seventeen
L ady Bernadette screamed and Lady Katherine let out a string of expletives that would have made a sailor proud, but when Minnie fainted, Carys leapt up from her cushion and rushed to help her friend.
“Blimey! This castle really is cursed!” Mr. Entwistle called out as Lord Arnold clutched his arm.
Carys frowned in disapproval, even though she had every reason to believe in the curse more than ever now, and crouched by Minnie’s side.
“Minnie, darling,” Lord Lawrence spoke in alarm as he pulled Minnie into his sheltering arms. “I know you love your theatrics, but this is truly unnerving.”
Carys took her friend’s other hand, disturbed to find it icy and cold.
The rest of the room was in panicked chaos. Lord Waldorf and Lady Katherine jumped up to close the windows that had blown closed and to rescue the papers that had blown off the shelves. Lord Cedric and Lord Alden were only concerned for their wives, whom they helped to stand and shuffled toward the hallway. Lord Gerald remained where he was, watching the confusion in the room as if he did not know what to do about any of it.
“Minnie, I believe you have successfully accomplished your intent this evening,” Carys said, fighting to appear calm when her heart beat wildly against her chest.
Whether Minnie had been feigning her contact with Morgana or not, everything she’d said weighted heavily on Carys’s heart. Perhaps her friend was right and she was betraying Morgana’s legacy by stepping back from Dunstan. If she had so much as a drop of Morgana’s blood within her, as Edgar had suggested, because of her family’s long association with Godwin Castle, then perhaps she did have a right to not only love Dunstan, but to accept him if and when he offered more directly for her hand.
“Wh-what has happened?” Minnie groaned, blinking herself awake in her husband’s arms and chasing Carys’s thoughts of herself away.
“You swooned, my darling,” Lord Lawrence said as the swirl of activity from the others in the room continued. “Please tell me you did so deliberately and that it was all a part of your devilishly enjoyable entertainment this evening.”
“Entertainment?” Minnie asked, pushing herself to sit upright, though she remained in Lawrence’s embrace. “I had only just begun when the strangest sensation overcame me. I remember nothing after that.”
Carys pressed her lips together tightly, exchanging a look with Dunstan, who had risen and was helping Lord Gerald to his feet. She did not appreciate Minnie’s continuation of her theatrics, but the distant possibility that she was not pretending at all kept her from saying as much.
Another loud series of bangs deeper in the castle also helped her bite her tongue. Lady Bernadette was heard yelping in the hallway once more.
“Is that the ghost of the woman who was wronged by your ancestors attempting to tear the castle apart stone by stone?” Lord Arnold asked as he and Mr. Entwistle assisted Lady Katherine and Lord Waldorf in collecting the bits and pieces that had fallen off shelves. “She will demand all of our blood before the night is over, I am convinced of it.”
Carys repressed her instinct to sigh and shake her head. Mostly because some small part of her feared Lord Arnold could be correct.
“I will investigate the sound to see what is causing it,” she said, standing and leaving Minnie in the care of her husband. “It sounds as if it is coming from belowstairs at any rate.”
“Go with her,” Lord Gerald charged Dunstan, who was helping him walk toward the hallway. “I can manage quite well on my own.”
Dunstan sent Carys a look as if to complain that, once again, his family was forcing them together. This time, however, Carys did not mind the interference whatsoever. There was just enough verisimilitude to the idea that the banging meant they were all in danger that she did not wish to investigate alone.
Dunstan seemed to see her fears. “Very well,” he said, letting his uncle’s arm go and meeting Carys near the doorway. “It feels as though we may uncover the truth of everything tonight at any rate.”
Carys waited until they had left the old study and turned a corner to take a set of stairs down to the ground floor to say, “I truly cannot puzzle out whether Lady Minerva was putting on a show for us all or whether Morgana truly inhabited her for a moment.”
Dunstan let out a short, nervous laugh. “If that was Morgana, she is not pleased with either of us.”
Carys sent Dunstan a sideways look as they stepped out of the stairwell into an abandoned part of the castle that stood at the far end of the servants’ hall. “It could just as easily have been Lady Minerva calling me a coward, spurred on by the rest of your family.”
Dunstan stumbled to a pause and blinked at her in the dim, freezing hallway. “You are not a coward,” he said. “You are a woman of supreme intelligence with enough forethought to assess all the vagaries of the situation before you.”
It was Carys’s turn to laugh. “I do not believe I have ever received a compliment buried in such complicated words before.”
Dunstan laughed with her and daringly took her hand as they ventured on. “I could compliment you in fewer words, if you’d like,” he said. He smiled at her and said, “You are the loveliest woman I know.”
Carys could not help but smile, even though the timing of the sweet moment was as strange as could be. They were alone together in a dank and dark part of the castle that was badly lit and seldom used. They were chasing ghosts and attempting to ascertain the truth of the curse that had afflicted the Godwin family since its inception.
An icy wind and repeated banging pulled Carys away from what could have easily become a heated moment.
“The sound is coming from farther down,” she said, tugging Dunstan’s hand as she started forward once more.
The banging continued, and in short order, Carys identified it as the sound of a door beating against its frame as the wind pushed it. Sure enough, it took only a minute or so of investigating to find the small, forgotten door at a point in the castle where the ancient structure met the newer build.
“I must have passed this door a dozen times without noticing it,” Carys said, watching as Dunstan pulled it tightly shut, then worked to secure it in its ancient, metal fastenings. “To be honest, I did not even know it was capable of being opened.”
“I do not think it was,” Dunstan said once he had the latch bolted. He pointed at the edge of the thick wood. “Someone or something has chiseled away at the swollen wood very recently to allow it to open.”
A chill went down Carys’s spine. “Someone meaning the ghost of Morgana?” she asked breathlessly. “Those marks look very much like fingernail scratches.”
Dunstan whipped to face her, his eyes going wide. Even in the exceptionally dim light cast from the rest of the servants’ hall, she could tell his face had gone pale.
“Perhaps we should leave this place to the spirits,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her away from the cold corner.
Carys could not help but laugh just a little, even though it was out of anxiousness, as she went with Dunstan. She shifted to take the lead once they returned to the juncture with the newer part of the servants’ quarters and led him on, into the warmer, lighter part of the house.
It just so happened that her housekeeper’s study and her bedchamber were very near that side of the hall.
“I think we need tea after the terror of this evening,” she said, drawing Dunstan into her study, then letting go of his hand so she could shut the door behind them.
“Tea, yes,” Dunstan said, pushing a slightly trembling hand through his hair, then looking around.
Carys lit the lanterns in her study, then went straight to the small stove in the corner of her room where her small stove radiated warmth to cut through the December chill. She kept a kettle ready for tea at all times, but since it was December, even the constant, low warmth of the stove could not keep the water hot enough for tea.
“It will just be a moment for the water to heat,” she said, opening the stove and feeding a few more logs to the smoldering embers there.
“I can wait,” Dunstan said, continuing to glance around the room. “You have a cozy home here.”
Carys shut the stove and smiled as she gestured for Dunstan to sit on the small sofa to one side of the room. “My home is your home,” she told him as she moved to sit with him.
A sudden change came over Dunstan’s expression. He took her hands and held them in both of his as he shifted to face her more fully. “Your home will always be my home, Carys. The events of the day have only solidified my feelings for you. I know you wish me to keep my distance, and I can see the wisdom in not allowing anything greater to grow between us, but I cannot help myself.
“I love you, Carys. You know it and I know that you love me as well. We are ideally suited for each other in interests and temperament. I am quite certain now that I will not repeat the mistakes of my past with you. You are dearer to me than Charlotte ever was, as dear as my own family, my own soul. And I never cared for the life of London or the ton at any rate. I would be perfectly happy to live out the rest of my life in peaceful seclusion, here, with you, at Godwin Castle. Curse or no curse. I love you.”
Carys caught her breath. His beautiful words had her stunned and her head spinning, they had come out so suddenly.
“I merely meant that my home is within Godwin Castle, which you will someday own,” she gasped, barely able to form the thought, let alone the words.
Dunstan blinked. “Oh,” he said. His face slowly began to fill with pink.
Carys wanted to laugh, and perhaps sing. She freed one of her hands from the tangle of their hands together and rested it on the side of his face.
“I love you as well,” she said, joy and laughter in her voice. “You and your unconventional ways and tender heart. I think I always have, I just did not allow myself to feel that love. I felt as if I knew my place better than I knew my heart.
“But my place is with you. If Morgana’s words this evening, if it truly was Morgana and not simply Minnie having a laugh at all of our expense, if those words meant anything, they meant that I should be bolder in pursuing what I want. And I want you, Dunstan. More than I have ever wanted anything. You are right. We are perfectly suited for each other. If we are brave enough, I know we can be happy.”
“I know we can,” Dunstan agreed breathlessly.
He let go of her hands to grasp the sides of her face and leaned in for a kiss. Carys accepted his ardor enthusiastically, grasping the sides of his coat and leaning into him as his mouth explored hers.
She adored his kiss. It felt like the warmest summer day, even in her chilled study. It was a long-sought prize that she had found at last and that she fully intended to revel in. No laws of society or class could keep her from what she knew with every fiber of her being was meant for her.
“I love you,” she repeated as she clutched Dunstan close, returning his kiss with fervor.
“I believe I have always loved you,” Dunstan said, sliding his arms around her.
Their kiss continued, growing in intensity as the rest of the world fell away. Their hands did not stay still either. Carys went to work immediately on the buttons of Dunstan’s coat and waistcoat, wanting nothing more than to free him of the restrictions of fabric and to caress him the way she had the night before.
Dunstan, in turn, swept his hands over her body, cupping one of her breasts through the fabric of her gown and brushing his thumb over her nipple. The movement send a bolt of pleasure through her that made her more eager than ever to repeat their love from the night before.
“Damn the tea,” she said, standing and pulling Dunstan with her. She gazed into Dunstan’s eyes with mischievous desire and said, “We can have it after.”
Dunstan laughed low in his throat. “It will take the water that long to heat.”
Carys grinned and turned to pull him through the doorway into her bedchamber. “That is all the time you think you will last?” she asked.
“Cheeky,” Dunstan scolded her.
He pulled her back into his arms once they were in the small space of her bedroom, kissing her again with twice as much passion. Carys attempted to push his jacket from his shoulders and to undo more of his buttons as he caressed her and searched her gown for her ties.
“Ow!” he called out suddenly, pulling his hand back and shaking it.
“What is the matter?” Carys asked.
Dunstan stared at her chest for a moment before shaking his head. “I brushed my hand across your brooch and it felt hot.”
“Hot?” Carys asked, touching the item herself, then unpinning it so it could be put aside. “It is cold. Your head is so filled with other sensations that it is confused.”
“That must be it,” Dunstan said, smiling amorously and pulling her back into his arms.
Once again, the fire of their desire was dampened slightly by the arduous practicality of undressing. Carys wished they had not donned such formal clothing, although there was a great deal of tenderness and excitement in slowly removing everything from each other. The more layers they cast aside, the slower the process became as they paused to touch and kiss every bit of skin they had revealed on each other.
Finally, when every stitch of their clothing had been cast aside, they tumbled into Carys’s bed.
“The sheets are so cold,” Carys gasped as she rolled to her back with Dunstan atop her.
“We will warm them up in short order,” Dunstan said, grinning as he lowered himself to kiss her.
The fire of that kiss was more than enough to warm Carys from the inside out. She returned his passion with as much and more, parting her legs so that he could slot his body against hers, exactly where it always should have been.
For the second time, she marveled at the vigor Dunstan had for a man of his age. But she could feel full well that love made him capable of things that many men of his age had given up entirely. His body was firm and warm under her hands and as it rubbed against hers. His kiss was deep and passionate. His hands roved her body as if it were his first time with a woman. And the hot, heavy spear of his manhood pressed against her thigh, making her eager for everything that would follow.
“I adore you,” she sighed, threading her fingers through his hair as he dipped his head down so that he could lavish her breasts with kisses. “I would tell you a thousand times over if I could.”
“I do not need the words,” Dunstan said, kissing lower to her belly. He sent her a wicked grin as he added, “I just need you to give me your delicious cunny instead.”
Carys laughed, but that sound turned into loud sighs of pleasure as Dunstan took exactly what he wanted from her. He pushed her thighs farther apart and lost himself in the secrets between her legs.
Carys moaned and writhed under him as he found all the right spots with his tongue and fingers. He was so skilled and diligent with his work that her body was coiled and ready to burst in no time. But instead of bringing her to completion or shifting so he could thrust into her for his own pleasure, he moved to rain light kisses over her inner thighs, his fingers still within her, as the sensation of being near the edge slowly subsided.
As soon as she was settled and simmering again, he resumed his ministrations, filling her with pleasure to the point where she thought she might burst. And again he pulled back, leaving her hovering so close to the edge, then denying her.
And again and again. It was pure, ecstatic torture to be brought so close to what she wanted only to have it taken away. She was weeping and begging for the completion of his promise by the time he raked his tongue across her clitoris once more.
“Please, Dunstan, please!” she sobbed, arching into him. “I want you! I need you!”
Dunstan heed her pleas, and instead of pulling back, he devoured her with an intensity that had her gasping for breath as the coil within her burst into sparkling pleasure. It swallowed her completely, filling her not only with brilliant sensation, but with overpowering love as well.
Better still, before the swell of pleasure subsided, Dunstan shifted to enter her, embracing her fully and taking his pleasure along with hers. Their combined sounds of bliss were the perfect duet. Carys felt as much or more satisfaction when Dunstan’s cries signaled his climax as she’d felt with her own.
The two of them were one, regardless of what the world or the Godwin family’s history might say. They were united, body and soul, and nothing, not even a curse, could change that.
The peace that settled over them as their passion subsided was the most beautiful thing Carys had ever felt. So beautiful that she was as content as could be to fall into sleep in Dunstan’s, her beloved’s arms. She felt as though she could sleep soundly until the end of time, and that her dreams and her life would be nothing but happiness from that point forward.
She was wrong.
What felt like mere moments after she and Dunstan had fallen asleep, a stir in the servants’ hall outside her quarters woke her. She heard movement and panicked voices that grew in intensity the more she listened.
“What the devil?” Dunstan asked groggily, pushing himself up to one arm.
They listened to the sounds within the castle, and at last, the shouting resolved itself into words.
“Fire! Hurry! Act lively! Fire! The castle is on fire!”