Chapter Three
The gilded clock on the drawing room’s mantle chimed four.
Lucian paced, the black of his boots stark against the carpet’s pale-blue flowers. He’d made the rounds of All Hallow’s twice already and still he couldn’t quell the tremble assaulting his nerves.
Struggling, he limped across the drawing room and out to the corridor leading to the green salon.
Rain battered the glass roof.
Curses. Hopefully Orson, Cook, and the rest of the staff weren’t having a bad time of it heading down to the annual fair. They’d been looking forward to the day off for weeks.
Rounding the corner, Lucian entered the salon and hobbled toward the chair in front of the hearth.
The heat coming off the crackling fire warmed his bones.
God, but he hadn’t realized how much he’d needed this moment of solitude.
Sinking deeper into the quietness, he undid his cravat and tossed it to the floor before also removing his waistcoat.
Then he eyed the window and took it all in, relinquishing his agony to the crash of waves against rock booming from the bottom of the cliffs outside.
The North Sea’s tumultuous nature was a chaotic storm no different than the conflict raging within his own heart.
In a flash, memories of Eloise flooded back to him.
Her mesmerizing violet eyes.
Her long blond hair.
Even her soft laugh.
He’d been a fool to have inflicted such pain upon her, but better that she suffered now so she could move on to a man deserving of her affection. A man who could….
A knock echoed through the hall and jarred Lucian’s thoughts.
The front door.
Heaven help the soul who’d come interrupting his peace.
A second knock sounded.
Bleedin’ hell.
Lucian grabbed his cane and stood. He made his way into the main corridor, his sluggish leg slightly dragging across the marble floor.
At the door, he waited for a third knock.
“Hello?”
A woman.
“Is anyone home?” The lass finally knocked again.
His fingers itched for the door handle, and yet his arm didn’t budge.
“A wheel broke on my carriage and now the road is flooded, stranding me here. Hello!”
Good, God, but it couldn’t be.
Lucian lurched for the knob and yanked the door open.
Eloise stumbled across the threshold, her delicate hands gripping the sides of the door frame. Looking up, she steadied herself, her violet-eyed gaze filled with shock. “Lucian?”
“Eloise.”
She cursed. “Forgive me,” she said. “This is much unexpected.”
“The door opening or me being found on the other side?”
“Both.” She tugged off her gloves and undid her cloak. “I thought you were residing at Davis Hall.”
“I was. Now I’m not.” He inched back, the need clawing in him to reach for Eloise, too strong to trust himself so close to her. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same of you.”
He closed the door. “I inherited All Hallows Abbey when my cousin Winston died.”
“And you thought it best to specifically return to the moors?”
The pain in Eloise’s eyes pierced his soul. “No. I thought it best to live in a place where the natural elements drowned out my torment.”
Eloise dropped her gloves.
Ignoring the twitch starting up in his thigh again, Lucian crouched to retrieve them.
So did Eloise.
Their fingers touched, the impact sending a shock of heat up his arm. He gazed into those penetrating eyes that never failed to draw him in. “You shouldn’t have showed up at the church that day.”
Eloise gasped. “You should never have viewed yourself unfit to marry me that day.”
He swallowed, his fingers still lingering against hers.
“Damn it, Eloise, you have no idea what I’ve become.
I can’t even find the pieces of the life I once lived, never mind pick them up and put them back together again.
I’ve a leg that on good days barely works and a mind that on all days is stalked by the madness of ghosts rather than of the living. ”
Eloise merely stared at him, the pained, yet concerned look veiling her face wrenched his heart.
Damn me. “I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.”
“Of course you didn’t. Just like I’m sure you didn’t mean to shatter me on our wedding day.” She snatched her gloves from his grasp and stood.
Rising, he reached for her arm. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“And yet you did.” She stood ramrod straight, her head held defiantly high. “You jilted me with a letter. How could you have thought that wouldn’t hurt? You didn’t even give us the chance to discuss the matter.”
“Because there was nothing to discuss. I would have hurt you more if I married you.”
*
The torment that laced Lucian’s voice, chilled Eloise. “I’m sorry to have intruded upon you like this.” She shoved her gloves into her reticule, her fingers shaking. Foolish girl.
Lucian dropped his hand from her arm, notes of sandalwood lifting from his cotton shirt.
The creamy essence instantly revived memories of the countless nights she’d spent clutching the cravat scented with the same fragrance.
The cravat he’d forgotten on the floor of her bedroom the morning he’d left for war.
The one she trailed nightly from her thighs to her lips, the memory of Lucian’s warmth and desire burning in her blood.
Trembling, she inched back.
Lucian reached for her chin and lifted her head to meet his stare, his fingers warm upon her skin and his eyes veiled in what she could only describe as warring agony.
“You could never be an intrusion.” His voice was like leather wrapped in shadows.
If only the haunted remnants that darkened his eyes hadn’t remained, she might have believed him. “My coachman has gone to the nearby wheelwright to mend the carriage. I think it best I join him.”
“I will not turn you out, Eloise.”
“And I will not add to your torment.” She paused. “It’s clear I still trouble you.”
Lucian held her gaze, a glimpse of the man he once was flickering in the depths of his brown eyes. “You are not the cause of my torture. Not before and not ever. Please do stay.”
As if on cue, thunder roared above the abbey’s roof.
She flinched. “You seem to have the elements at your beck and call, my lord. Perhaps I need to note that in the archives.”
He laughed. “And here I thought your job was to record truth, not tales. We have enough wild imaginations among the knights as it is.” He took Eloise’s cloak and folded it over the arm of a nearby chair. “Would you care for something to eat?”
“You really needn’t trouble yourself.”
Lucian offered her his arm. “Trust me, the trouble will not be mine as there’s only cheese and cold meats in the larder. The staff is off to attend the harvest fair.”
“Cheese and cold meats will be more than gracious of you.”
Leaning on his cane, Lucian led her down the main corridor, the warmth coming off his arm making the hall’s suddenly cold essence tolerable.
“Since I’m here, I have a matter I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Go on.”
“I’ve been researching the documents my mother had been working on for the archives the night she and Father died. I don’t believe their carriage incident was an accident. I think they might have been murdered, and I believe it was due to their association with the Knights of All Hallows.”
*
The revelation punched Lucian like a fist to the gut. “What makes you think so?”
“It’s more a who than a what. I think my father was murdered because something he knew might have kept his distant cousin Hamish from being your second.”
He froze midstride. “Did you inform Mallory of your findings?”
“I did. He said Hamish was trouble.”
“That he is. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
“Rest assured, I have no intention of purposely crossing paths with the man. Though I do intend on continuing my research.”
He’d expected no less from the obstinate beauty who’d captured his heart at first glance. But looking into Hamish could get her killed. “I think it best you let the matter go. I’ll manage it from here.”
She pulled away from him, the sweet aroma of citrus coming off her hair. “Absolutely not. They were my parents. I owe it to them to find out who killed them.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
Averting her gaze, Eloise toyed with the ribbon at her throat. “That may be, but I’m too far in to be pushed aside now.”
What the hell was she talking about? “Explain yourself.”
She took a moment to answer. “Only if you promise never to tell Uncle Mallory what I’m about to admit.”
“Eloise…”
Her luscious lips dipped into that sensual little frown that usually resulted in him giving into her every whim. “I may have been feeding Sir Edmund information from the archives detailing the sacred stone linked to the Order’s origins, before he was murdered.”
“For the love of God. Why?”
“Because he had an interest in the Knights’ history. Just as I do.”
“And how, pray tell, did you feed him this information?”
“I met with him at Enfer’s Gate.”
And here he thought her initial revelation was worrisome. “Edmund was murdered in that rookery. You could have died with him.”
“I’m aware of that, but when we were there together, we never encountered anything that we thought would have put us in harm’s way. He returned later, alone.”
Lucian’s heart nearly stopped. “Did anyone see you there?”
“I don’t think so. It was always just me and Edmund.
I’ve been keeping extensive records on the possible location of the sacred stone he’d been searching for.
Though my findings are far from conclusive as many buildings are now built on the grounds where I believe it to have originally been placed. ”
“You need to burn those records.” He resumed their trek through the hall.
“Unless you can make a good argument as to why I should destroy some of the archives’ most vital records, I have no intention of stopping what by blood I have a right to continue.”
Fighting Napolean took less effort than taking on Eloise. “I can indeed make a good argument. Edmund was murdered. That alone should be enough to make you stop. There are forces roaming the moors that can kill you if you persist with this nonsense. And I will not have you die on me.”
“You gave up that right when you walked out on me.”
“Bloody hell, Eloise. You can’t seriously believe I don’t still…”
“Don’t still what, my lord?”
If he admitted he still loved her, she’d think it an invitation back into his world. And he was not putting her through his insufferable misery. “We’re not having this conversation.”
“Of course not. We didn’t have it then, why should we now?”
“Just burn the records.”
“No. You haven’t made a vital enough point. Besides, I’m perfectly safe in my library.” A glint of candlelight smoldered in her defiant gaze.
God, but she was beautiful when stubborn. “Only until it leads you into another dark alley?”
“I won’t go to Enfer’s Gate again. You have my word.”
“That’s not enough. You need to stay away from the archives and away from the knights.” Which included himself, if he didn’t want Hamish closing in on her.
“If I’m to keep my distance from the knights, what do you propose I do about my living arrangements? Uncle is a knight.”
“Mallory does not get directly involved in the Order’s daily business. He’s not a member of high rank. Hamish would have no use for him.”
“Unlike what he might have of your high-and-mighty self?”
Damn him, but he did not mean to put Mallory down. “I’m just saying…”
She held up her hand, silencing him. “I know what you were insinuating and I’m not offended. Uncle would agree with your assessment of his place within the Order. But I’m not backing down.”
“You are insufferable.”
“No more than you.”
And to think all he wanted was a few hours of peace this evening.
“Perhaps we should leave this conversation until after we’ve had something to eat.
” At the end of the hall, he directed Eloise down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“I’ll fetch us some food if you don’t mind retrieving two plates from the cupboard. ”
“Of course I don’t.”
Leaving Eloise, he limped his way to the dry larder attached to the kitchen. How could he have not known about her working with Sir Edmund? He was the Knights’ overseer, for God’s sake. He should know everything about the Order and its members.
His boot heel caught on an uneven tile.
Lucian lost his balance, his legs going out from under him. He fell and hit the back of his head on the floor.
Bloody hell.
Gritting his teeth, he reached for his cane.
Cinnamon-laced air nipped at his nose as a shadow scurried across the floor, its cold essence drifting over his hands.
A low rumble echoed off the walls.
“Save her…”
“Lucian!” Eloise came running in from the kitchen and immediately helped him up. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you certain?” She laced her fingers through his hair like a mother hen pecks at her chick’s feathers. “You hit your head. You could be suffering from a concussion.”
The only thing he was suffering from was the bolt of desire set off by Eloise’s fingers. A desire that now raced straight to his cock. “I don’t have a concussion.”
“Are you certain? Maybe I should take a more in-depth look.” She inched closer.
He held his breath, that damn citrusy perfume that was uniquely hers, stirring his every inch. “The only thing I’m sure about is that I was a fool to have let you go.”
She reached for his arm. “You are suffering a concussion.”
Without a second thought, he pulled her close. “Damn it, Eloise. I do not have a concussion.”
“Are you sure? You look as if you’re in agony, so clearly you’re suffering something. Is it your leg?” She lowered her free hand to his thigh.
Breath seeped through his gritted teeth. “I am in agony.”
“Then stop being daft and let me help.” She brought her forehead to his.
“God, Eloise, you have no idea what I’ve become. I’m going mad. I’m…”
“Shh.” She placed her finger on his lips. “Just kiss me, Lucian.”
“It wouldn’t be right.”
“What wasn’t right was you not returning to my bed after you came back from war. Whatever ghosts are haunting you, we can conquer them together.”
“And if those ghosts are real?”
A hint of mischief sparkled in Eloise’s eyes. “Then you’ll be the victor in having won me over to the other side.” She smiled, her luscious lips as tempting as ever.
His resolve shattered. Leaning forward he claimed her lips as if there were no tomorrow. And maybe for him, there wasn’t.