Chapter 11
Dawn was breaking as Elias made his way back to Edenbridge Hall. He was tired, disoriented, and only just coming back to himself. Lately, it seemed, these excursions into the woods were becoming longer, and during them, he felt altogether out of control. The beast was taking over, he thought. That was his greatest fear—that he would lose himself to this cursed madness.
Edenbridge came into sight. The morning was grey, and a heavy shroud of mist hung around the house. His eyes went to one window in particular. There was no light on, and the curtains were still drawn. Good, he told himself. He didn’t want Victoria bothering him. He didn’t want to have to explain himself. “What were you doing out there?” she would surely ask. As if it were any of her business. The woman was an absolute hypocrite. She loathed being ordered around but couldn’t control her own nose as it weaseled its way into other people’s affairs.
He paused there, on the outer edge of the wood, and contemplated. What a dangerous mess he was wrapped up in. Surely, it would be the death of him. He ran his hand over the scars across his neck and cheek. Elias had tried so hard to isolate himself, to stay as far away from the village as he could. It was the people he sought to avoid, and he didn’t think he was missing much. But now, there were people in his home. People who could learn his secret. People who could be his ruin.
His eyes were locked on Victoria’s window. He hated her. He didn’t think he ever hated anyone so much. And yet, he was desperate to see the light come on. He hung there, staring, willing the curtains to part…for what reason, he didn’t know. It was the animal in him. Surely, it was the cursed beast driving him to have such wild desires. It would be best if Victoria left this place…particularly because of the undesirable company that would be attending her this afternoon.
Elias groaned and started across the lawn. Lydia Pritchard and Agnes Pembroke. If he was lucky, he would sleep through their visit. Hell, he would prefer being called to the woods over hearing their grating voices echo throughout Edenbridge Hall.
Inside, the house was essentially as silent as it was dark. All throughout, the curtains were still drawn. Somewhere, perhaps in the distant kitchen, he could detect the early morning movements of the staff. He hurried up the steps, conscious of his tattered and dirt-stained clothing. He found the upper hall empty, but he was conscious of the visitors in his home. He had no wish to be discovered by them as he snuck into the house at this early morning hour. His stride was quick and silent and he was relieved when he made it to his door. Inside, he was finally able to breathe more easily.
He inhaled, and his eyes widened. Elias was startled to find that he could smell Victoria. His attention darted around the room. He thought he might find her there—lounging on the settee, sitting at his desk, reclined on the bed…
No. He was alone, but the incident had rattled him. Only when he was in the woods were his senses so heightened. He was inclined to think that this was a further indication that the potion his uncle made was becoming less effective. No, he thought. It was his mind playing tricks on him. He didn’t smell Victoria. He only thought he did. Why, he couldn’t say. Stress, perhaps? Surely, there could be no other reason for her to occupy his thoughts so entirely—to the point that her perfume haunted him like a ghost.
Elias undressed, tossing his clothes into the fire lest the servants find them and have questions. That’s the way that rumors start. He could leave no evidence of his misadventures in the woods. He watched them burn, adjusting them with a poker until the blaze consumed them. After that, he washed the dirt from his face, hands, and body. He was exhausted, truly hoping that he might sleep through the afternoon, through the visit of those judgmental and damning wretches from the knitting circle. He would wake just before dinner and seek out Victoria. That brought a smile to his lips. He was looking forward to seeing her narrow her eyes at him. He wanted to hear her voice hissing curses for sticking her with Lydia and Agnes. She would loathe their company as much as he did. But she wouldn’t let anyone else know. Just him. For some reason, Victoria only showed her true colors to him. Why? he wondered, blindly tossing the covers back. He tucked into his bed, rolling over and settling in. His fatigue was great, but Victoria permeated his thoughts. He could swear that he smelled her. It was so distinct, as if she were lying in bed beside him.
His hand drifted beneath the pillow, reaching for someone that wasn’t there. Elias was shocked when his fingered entwined with a piece of satin. Sitting up, he pulled it from beneath the pillow. A ribbon…and it was a perfect color match to the dress Victoria had worn yesterday.
The woman had been in his room, and she’d left this as…as a sort of joke. He was so angry he considered striding into her room just to bellow at her. He didn’t know what he would say; he just wanted her to know how angry he was. He wanted her to see it, to feel it, to taste it.
He rubbed his eyes. He was tired. That was the beast talking, not him. Elias threw himself back on the pillows. He needed rest. He willed his eyes to shut, his mind was still rampant—clouded with this woman’s scent. He brought the ribbon to his nose and inhaled deeply.
Gods, how he hated her.