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DEADLY ENCHANTMENT
By
Kathryn R. Blake
© copyright February 2008, Kathryn R. Blake
Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, 2008
ISBN 978-1-60394-134-1
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or facts is merely coincidence.
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to all the readers who’ve encouraged me, my friends and fellow writers who were unfailingly honest with me, and my husband who does everything he can to be supportive of me.
PROLOGUE
September, 1876 - Lynwood Manor – England
“Dominic, a word if you please.”
Dominic Westcroft gave a mental groan. “Now, Zaltasar?” he asked, impatience adding a sharper edge to his query than he intended.
“Yes. I promise not to keep you and your blushing bride apart too long, but there are things I must say before you go to her,” the elderly wizard advised. His voice, though little louder than a whisper, expressed a grim direness.
Giving a reluctant nod, Dominic followed his black-robed mentor down the darkly lit stone corridor to a small antechamber. Though Dominic wasn’t untutored in the ways of men and women, at seventeen he couldn’t claim a great deal of experience either. Even so, he hardly needed a lecture on the birds and the bees on his wedding night.
And so, he was a bit taken aback when Zaltasar leaned against the edge of a table and said, “I counsel you, not as your tutor, but as your father would, were he still alive. Passion between a husband and wife is both glorious and sacred, but you, my eager, young student, are not just any groom and tonight’s not just a wedding night for you. Though you may not be innocent in ways of the flesh, this union will be unlike any you have experienced before. Because that is so, I must caution you to be judicious and employ the utmost care not to let your passions rule over your head or heart. I have taught you things I’ve taught no one else to protect you against the treachery of those who would do you harm. But my teachings carry a price. And if you do not wish tonight to turn into a disaster you’ll regret for the rest of your days, I beseech you to heed me now. Your young bride’s life may well depend on it.”
* * * *
Washed, powdered, and gowned in the finest white silk London had to offer, Felicity Westcroft, nee Cunningham, lay as still as she could on the large four poster bed while her heart pounded with maidenly anticipation for her groom to claim her. Holding up her hand, she gazed again at the gold band he’d placed on her finger a few mere hours ago. She loved Dominic and trusted him completely, although she’d long suspected there was a darker side to the man she now called husband. A more sinister side that even he didn’t fully understand. Even so, she had a gift for seeing into the hearts and minds of others, and she knew his essence was pure. His soul carried a few scars, but none were of his making. Others had wounded him deeply causing him to be wary. She’d been the one who’d reached out to him. And despite his initial surliness, she’d managed to gain his interest and attention until he was the one who pursued. She let him think he’d caught her, but she’d wanted to be caught since the day they’d first met. She knew she would be good for him, and he would be good for her as well.
Deep into her thoughts, Felicity did not see the door to the bedchamber being nudged open, but she sensed movement and presence. Despite all that she suspected, she still let out a small gasp when a white leopard slipped through the crack in the door. Then it turned and stared at her through deep-green eyes that were aware, intelligent and ravenous.
* * * *
Several miles away in a darkened nursery a little girl screamed. Her nursemaid ran to her side, but the child refused to be quieted. In her terror, the little girl’s words appeared to be little more than incoherent garbling.
“‘Licity, no!” the little girl cried grabbing at her nursemaid. “Help ‘Licity.”
The nursemaid could tell the little girl was terrified, but having no idea what had caused the upset, she attempted to pacify the child with adult logic.
“Your sister is fine,” she reassured a little helplessly. “She is with her husband now, and he will protect her.”
“No!” the little girl insisted. “White leopard coming to hurt ‘Licity. She need help now.”
“Now, Serena, you know your parents do not like it when you spin tales. Your sister is fine, and there aren’t any leopards in England. It’s time for you to be asleep. Now settle, child.”
Serena Cunningham kept shaking her head in denial, but she had neither the words nor the power to protect her sister any more than she could halt the terrifying images unfolding in her mind.
* * * *
Naked and on his knees, Dominic drew his dying bride close then threw his head back and screamed like a wounded animal while blood seeped from his virginal young wife’s torn and ravaged body like rivulets of ruby wine.
Boots clattered through the hallway as the male wedding guests rushed in answer to Dominic’s gut-wrenching cries. Whispers of concern, horror and disbelief pierced through him like a thousand hot needles. Only one remained silent in the ensuing chaos. Dominic’s elder brother, Terrence. Standing but a few feet away, Terrence held his mauled and bloodied arm close to his chest as he gazed at Dominic with an expression both pale and horrified. No words were spoken between the brothers, but the message was clear. Had Terrence wed Felicity instead of Dominic, she would still be alive.
CHAPTER ONE
September, 1888 - Ravenswood Manor – England
As she stepped out of the shiny, black brougham, Serena Cunningham’s buttoned-leather shoe had barely touched the cobbled pavement when she instinctively glanced upwards. The stone gargoyles perched high on the turrets of the immense manor house appeared to glare down at her, their mouths stretched open in demonic grins.
She suspected her perception of evilness was more a figment of her own imaginings than the sculptor’s intent, but the rationalization gave her little comfort given the task she’d set for herself. She noticed the other women seemed more impressed by the size of the manor than its gothic architecture, but then she suspected their girlish romantic illusions protected them from the realities they now faced. Serena had no such illusions. She’d lost them on the night her parents died, ten years ago.
Her older sister had preceded their demise by two years, but Serena remembered that particular night most clearly since she relived it nightly in her dreams. Her parents had been devastated by their daughter’s tragic death, as was she, but at seven even simple things often took on exaggerated proportions.
Serena’s parents did what they could to shield her, while they lived, but when they died her sheltered existence abruptly ended. Her mother’s sister consented to take Serena in, but as she already had a daughter near Serena’s age, she wasn’t all that eager to take on the added responsibility. However, for a substantial portion of Serena’s inheritance, she would do her filial duty.
But money, like all things material, did not last forever. And with Serena’s aunt and uncle, the money lasted only a little more than five years. Three years after that, her aunt and uncle were nearly destitute. And that was why Serena and her cousin Allison found themselves, along with seven other young women, entering the manor of the man Serena had come to loathe. The man, whom society feared too much to ever openly condemn or confront, yet did not hesitate to insult behind his back. The man whose name her own parents had refused to speak aloud without crossing themselves. The man who now offered a thousand pounds for a new bride, only twelve years after he’d brutally murdered his first. Dominic Westcroft.
* * * *
A regal-looking young woman gowned in a black mourning dress stepped forward to greet them. “Welcome, ladies. I hope your journey was not too tiring. Your rooms have all been assigned and prepared. Mrs. Sloan will show you the way and Bentley will follow with your luggage. I trust you will consider this your home for as long as you choose to remain with us.”
Several of the young women thanked her, but Serena doubted the woman would have been so welcoming if she knew real reason why Serena had chosen to accept their unusual invitation. Clasping her cousin Allison’s hand, to keep them from being separated, Serena followed along with the others.
Mrs. Sloan unlocked the door to the first room and with a glance down at the list in her hand, she called out, “Susan Barker, this will be your room.”
Serena had spoken briefly with Susan, who’d accepted the invitation to Ravenswood because her family needed the money. Several of the women she had spoken to faced a similar dire situation, but Serena suspected Susan’s family was among the most desperate. Distantly related to a peer of the realm, they were relegated to the societal purgatory of the poor genteel. Too noble to work, and too poor not to, their only escape was through a wealthy marriage. Susan’s family was basically selling her to the highest bidder. Of course, Serena’s aunt and uncle weren’t much better in that respect, but their desire for more money wasn’t the primary reason Serena agreed to come to the devil’s manor.
The next young lady Mrs. Sloan called for was Dorothy Bennett. Dorothy was not one of Serena’s favorites. She was a little too condescending to be friendly, and the slightest inconvenience set her off on an hour-long rant. Definitely not an individual you’d want to spend an afternoon with let alone a week or longer.
Next, Allison Blanford was called. Serena confidently followed her cousin, when Mrs. Sloan stopped her. “Not so quickly, miss. What is your name, please?”
“Serena. Serena Blanford,” Serena informed her easily, the deception altogether necessary in her opinion. “I am Allison’s cousin, and, if you check your notes, I believe you’ll see that we are to room together,” Serena advised politely but firmly, certain her aunt had heeded her concerns in this respect, at least.
“No,” Mrs. Sloan corrected. “My instructions were to give each girl her own room. You are being placed across the hall.”
“That is not an acceptable arrangement. I am not here as an applicant, but as Allison’s companion. We must room together. I am certain my aunt made that quite clear in her acceptance letter.”
“We received no such stipulations from your aunt, Miss Blanford. According to our records, you are an applicant along with your cousin. The rooms have all been specifically assigned to each applicant, and I am not permitted to change the arrangements. You shall have to address your concerns with the master of Ravenswood directly.”
“Very well, then. Take me to him,” Serena demanded, believing her moment of truth had finally arrived.
“Unfortunately, he’s not here at the moment,” the housekeeper advised quietly. “However, I shall make certain he receives word that you wish to speak with him when he returns. In the meantime, if you would be so kind as to step into here,” Mrs. Sloan requested, her tone giving notice that she’d not tolerate further argument.
Though Serena thoroughly disliked the situation, she stepped into the room as directed, then turned back, but Mrs. Sloan shut the door in her face. With an acute sense of alarm slithering up her spine like a scaled serpent, Serena promptly tested the knob. It was unlocked. Chiding herself for her overreaction, she waited a moment, allowing Mrs. Sloan to progress further down the hall. Once she felt certain that the housekeeper was no longer a concern, Serena stepped across the hall to her cousin’s room and rapped their special code. Allison promptly opened her door to let Serena in.
“Why do you think they insisted upon separating us?” Allison squeaked, her voice high as it always was when something scared her.
“I don’t know,” Serena answered truthfully while keeping her voice a lot more confident than she felt. “However, since they are separating all of us and aren’t locking our doors, I don’t believe they suspect anything. It would seem, though, that your dear mother didn’t wish to risk having her invitation rescinded. I wonder what else she may have agreed to.”
“Oh, Serena, I’m scared. What if …?”
Serena quickly stepped forward and clasped her cousin’s hands. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Allie. You have my word,” she promised solemnly.
Taking a deep breath, Allison nodded. “All the same, I don’t like the fact they’ve chosen to separate us.”
“Neither do I. Your bed is large enough. We could simply ignore the stupid rule and see what happens.”
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to start off badly. We could anger Mr. Westcroft by not obeying his edict, and I am terrified by the thought of what he might do.”
Serena briefly closed her eyes against the image of her sister’s torn and bleeding body. Dominic Westcroft would pay for Felicity’s murder, but not at the expense of her cousin’s life.
“You’re right,” Serena answered, giving Allison’s cold fingers another light press before releasing them. Then closing her eyes again, Serena mentally scanned the bedchamber for hidden enchantments. Assured the room was safe, she said, “Perhaps it is best if we not draw any more attention to ourselves than is absolutely necessary. Don’t fret Allison. After I prove Westcroft’s guilt, we’ll have nothing more to worry about. In the meantime, let’s do our best to pretend we actually want to be here, then before you know it we’ll be going home again.”
This time Allison’s nod was a little less confident.
That night at dinner, with their hostess conspicuously absent, Serena got to know the other nine women a little better. She quickly decided that Katherine Shaw, a recently impoverished socialite, had supplanted Dorothy Bennett as her least favorite. Though in a way, Serena admired Katherine’s honesty. She was there for the money, and didn’t even attempt to hide her greed. Strolling about Westcroft’s formal dining room as if she already owned the place, she placed a price tag on everything she saw, from the linen tablecloth to the gilded wall sconces. Though Serena found Katherine’s assessments more than a little mercenary, she was willing to overlook the flaw until Katherine began predicting how long it would be before each of them turned tail and ran.
Believing none of them had the fortitude to face the challenges a man like the Westcroft presented, Katherine regarded timid little Susan Barker with a haughty look of disdain and predicted the country mouse would be the first to tuck in her skirts and scurry away, and that Dorothy Bennett would not be far behind her. After giving Allison and Serena the once over, Katherine pronounced, “And I would say that neither of you possess the nerve required to remain in the same room as Westcroft for an hour, let alone a day.”
Serena fully suspected that Katherine Shaw had little idea herself of the nerve that would be required to face Westcroft directly. To get a better idea of what the other women thought of the master of Ravenswood, she asked. "And just what is it about Westcroft that makes you believe spending time with him will require nerve?"
Katherine smiled as she delicately patted her lips with the satin brocade napkin, but her smile was neither friendly, nor sociable. "If you need to ask that, I'm certain you won't last. It is common knowledge to those who possess even a modicum of social standing, that in addition to his vast wealth, Westcroft possesses even greater and more terrible powers. It's rumored that he may have even killed his first wife, though they could never prove it. That's why they call him the Wizard of the West!"
A little surprised by Katherine’s forthrightness, Serena glanced at the others and noticed varying levels of trepidation. No doubt they had heard the rumors themselves and were unsettled by Westcroft’s rather unsavory reputation.
"He terrifies me," Susan Barker admitted with a guilelessness that made her seem all that more vulnerable.
"That doesn't surprise me, dear," Katherine replied, her smile still in place. "I suspect your own shadow terrifies you."
When Susan’s mouth started to quiver, Serena spoke in her defense. “Despite your vast social knowledge, Katherine, I sincerely doubt you possess an ability to predict the future, and furthermore, as far as nerve goes, I'll predict that Susan, Allison and I will all outlast you,” Serena finished, giving Susan an encouraging smile.
Katherine arched an elegant eyebrow and murmured, “Time alone should provide the answer to that, Miss Blanford.”
Serena had no idea why she'd let Katherine's words goad her so, since neither she nor Allison were remaining at Ravenswood any longer than was absolutely necessary for them to obtain their goal. She certainly didn’t want her cousin wedded to a man like Dominic, and she would prefer never to speak to the man herself. But she did have a plan, a plan that would expose Dominic Westcroft as the black-hearted, murdering beast she’d envisioned mauling her sister, and she meant to see it through.
Of the other women, Serena’s favorite was Georgina Michaels, who had a carefree laugh that Serena found infectious. She may have had family troubles as well, but she made no mention of them. Instead she turned Katherine’s pricing fixation into a game and suggested everyone take a guess at the cost of the item before Katherine announced her appraiser’s value. Serena suspected Georgina had given little credence to the rumors and had no knowledge at all of their host’s true nature, but then she doubted few, if any, of the other women fully grasped the peril they faced by being here.
Melissa Douglas was there to flirt and be flirted with. She was a man’s lady, not a lady’s lady. She appeared to delicately pick at her meal while she blushed and simpered--a lot. If Melissa had been created as a flower, she would have been an orchid.
Melissa was almost completely opposite to Caitlyn O’Reilly, who Serena likened more to a thistle. Down to earth and sporty. A no-nonsense woman, she had little time for games and thought the notion of pricing everything in the dining room was a waste of time. She was there to marry a rich man, and if any of the others had an issue with her intentions, they could take it up with her privately. Serena had no doubt Caitlyn could challenge Katherine in an argument and win.
The last woman Serena became acquainted with was Frances Houghton. Frances had not been blessed with delicate features. She had a long nose and a long neck and eyes that were just a little too far apart. She was there, like most of the others, for the money, but she held no illusions that the Wizard of the West, as he’d been referred to more than once, would ever choose her. She had a pure heart, and held no ill feelings toward anyone, and for that alone Serena would have liked her. She loved to hike and play tennis and she fully intended to enjoy any and all benefits Ravenswood provided for whatever time she remained.
Serena envied Frances for her come-what-may attitude while at the same time she suspected Frances would not be nearly as blasé about her stay if she’d experienced the same dreams Serena had.
Over the next three days there was no sign of the Master of the Manor, so the ten women were basically left to their own resources. The others didn’t seem to mind the fact that their host had chosen not to make an appearance, while Serena struggled not to pace the floor and climb the walls. In addition to finding herself at a standstill, she was growing increasingly suspicious when their hostess began speaking about the purity validation trial that each of the women had agreed to undergo.
Since the household seemed to do everything alphabetically, Susan Barker was the first to be escorted out of the room. When Susan returned, Serena took one look at her friend’s tear-stained, pallid complexion and her suspicions grew into an uneasy foreboding. Susan refused to speak about what happened, but Serena was able to ascertain that whatever it was, it had marked Susan’s soul.
Dorothy Bennett was next in line to be selected. Acknowledging that Dorothy possessed a stronger mettle than Susan, Serena watched for Dorothy to return. Less than an hour later, Dorothy did return to them, and though her eyes were dry, her complexion was even paler than Susan’s had been.
Certain Allison would be called next, Serena was prepared with her argument when the household broke their usual routine by selecting Melissa Douglas next. Serena felt deflated and relieved at the same time. Then her uneasiness turned into outright worry when they called Frances Houghton before Melissa had returned.
However, when even the prickly, pragmatic Caitlyn O’Reilly accompanied their hostess and returned with reddened eyes and a look of horror etched on her face, Serena was more than convinced that neither she nor Allison would undergo this purity trial they were insisting upon. Though a refusal to comply would bring unwanted attention upon them, acquiescing to their demands could potentially expose her deception. But more important than either of those issues, she refused to let them do anything to Allison that might hurt or harm her.
When Mrs. Sloan finally called for Allison, Serena stood and said, “Allison Blanford will not be participating, Mrs. Sloan.”
“I’m afraid refusal is not an option, Miss Blanford. Your agreement to undergo this trial is clearly stated as a requisite in the papers your family signed.”
“It may be stated, but since Mr. Westcroft has yet to decide whom he wishes to marry, and we have yet to decide if we wish to accept him, I would say the issue is moot. At least until Mr. Westcroft himself chooses to make an appearance.”
Though Mrs. Sloan was clearly not pleased, she did not argue the matter further. Serena suspected the other woman would have insisted upon it if she didn’t think it would create unrest among the others, which both the housekeeper and their hostess apparently wished to avoid at all costs.
On the third day, the women were seated in the upstairs sitting room playing board games when they heard the servants scurrying about the manor like a flurry of rodents frightened out of the woodwork. Voices were both urgent and hushed as Ravenswood seemed to take on a life of its own. Then all sound suddenly ceased in the manor so that nary a whisper nor a breath was heard.
Serena and the others strained to listen when a door slammed shut with a force just short of being violent. Allison jerked and let out a little squeal.
“Do you think it’s the Wizard?” Susan asked, her use of Westcroft’s unflattering nickname revealing more of her unease than her worried expression.
“I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough if it is,” Serena predicted softly from her sentinel position near the door, while Georgina, who remained blatantly unperturbed by all the commotion, triumphantly jumped one of her black pieces over Allison’s red.
* * * *
Dominic pressed his palms against the gleaming wood of his desk and glared at his sister. “You did what?” he asked quietly. Almost too quietly.
“I invited ten women here for you to choose your bride from,” Regina admitted, taking a seat before him.
Dominic’s expression turned grim. “Have you taken leave of your senses? Should I send Frederick to attend you?”
“I have no need of a physician, Dominic, and I am of saner mind than you. You need to marry,” she stated, her tone firm with resolve.
“I had thought we were finally past this argument, Regina. Have you forgotten what happened to Felicity? Do you possess some deep-seated longing to send another woman screaming to her death?”
Regina held his gaze, but gripped her fingers tightly together. “No, and though I think it was most noble of you to remain faithful to Felicity, it’s been nearly twelve years now. It’s time you let go of the past and moved into the future.”
“And what future would that be, my dear?” he inquired, his voice a soft purr of menace. “Have you turned psychic all of a sudden?”
“You know I haven’t,” she replied with a slight grimace at his barb, “but it appears that I have a better memory than your own.” She leaned forward slightly. “Weren’t you the one who said that you needed a virgin wife by your thirtieth birthday to complete your powers? According to my rather rudimentary math skills, that leaves you less than a year to find a suitable lady and marry her. Since you did not seem so inclined to do this for yourself, I simply made the arrangements for you.”
“I but told you what Zaltasar informed me, I didn’t say I believed it.”
“Oh? You don’t believe your mentor’s prediction regarding your powers, but you have no difficulty believing that you may have killed your wife in a fit of passion and anger when you found her and Terrence together in your wedding chamber?”
Dominic’s anger slithered out of him in a deadly-hot tendril of green smoke. Briefly closing his eyes, he directed the sentient tentacle toward the window and away from his sister. “I didn’t say that, but it’s possible, yes. It’s not what I want to believe, but the evidence clearly seems to indicate I was responsible.”
“Really? And isn’t it due to that very same evidence that you were found innocent of the crime?” she countered, barely acknowledging the snake-like trail of green rage that sought a convenient target to unleash its wrath upon.
“Innocent and not guilty are not at all the same thing, sister dear. The council concluded there was not enough evidence to convict me of Felicity’s murder, but they did not find me innocent. In truth, I rather suspected they thought I did commit the crime, but felt it was an uncontrollable act of passion rather than a deliberate killing.”
“So, which is it?” she inquired with a lift of her chin. When he didn’t answer, she prompted, “You’ve been trying to convince me for years that our brother possesses a nature so evil that it is beyond my comprehension to accept it, going so far as to suggest he was responsible for the death of my husband. Do you mean to say now that he is wholly innocent of the crimes which you’ve accused him?”
Dominic clenched his fingers into a fist, then slowly opened them to lay them flat on the desk again. “The blackness of Terrence’s soul is not what’s at issue here,” he replied through gritted teeth.
“Then what, precisely, is at issue here?”
He regarded her with open astonishment. “The fact that you invited ten women to my home on the pretext I would choose one for my wife is what’s at issue here.” Afraid of what he might do, he took a deep breath and leaned back slightly. “Your memory may not be quite as good as you believe, Mrs. Sinclair, or you’d recall the night I held my torn and bleeding bride in my arms that I made a vow. And whether or not I was the one who ripped Felicity to pieces, I was definitely the one ultimately responsible. I don’t know what happened that night, because I-can’t-remember,” he reminded her as the physical manifestation of his fury wound its way up the velvet curtains to the ceiling where it seeped through as if no barrier existed.
“However, since they found me naked, Felicity mauled and Terrence bleeding, I fully accept the premise that my beast took control of me that night. So, I hardly think that bringing ten women to the lair of a potential murderer was a very intelligent thing to do. Therefore, for the sake of their innocent lives, and your own, I insist you send them back. Today,” he emphasized through his tightly clenched jaw.
Undaunted by his growl or his very obvious anger, Regina stood and leaned toward him. “No,” she replied simply.
He rose and bent forward until their noses practically met. “You really don’t want to battle me over this, Regina Elizabeth. If I have to send them back, I won’t be nearly as charitable about it as you. So, I advise you to do as I say before I tend to the matter myself.”
* * * *
Serena was the first to see the meandering trail of green smoke snaking up from the floorboards, but she said nothing assuming it was another manifestation of her fertile imagination and if she ignored it, it would go away. However, Susan saw it next, and she screamed. The smoke immediately ceased its serpent-like meandering and headed directly for the frightened woman like a purposeful, slithering tentacle of green fog.
Susan screamed again, but fear kept her rooted where she stood. Though Serena stood furthest away from Susan and the steadily advancing trail, when she noticed the others remained frozen in fear of the phenomenon, she took a step toward it and called, “Stop.”
The green tentacle turned again. This time toward her.
It had almost reached her when Allison let out a small cry of despair. The tentacle started to turn, but acting instinctively Serena plunged her hand into the coalescing trail, only to draw back from its intense heat with a gasp. The brief encounter caused Serena’s flesh to prickle in reaction. The smoke-like tentacle had been filled with an angry masculine presence, which Serena recognized and recoiled from at the same time. With her touch, the smoke immediately turned from green to blue and took on an even more vaporous appearance.
Afraid and uncertain, Serena took a step back, but the bluish mist followed. When she took another step back, the mist hovered for a moment, and then rushed forward to wrap itself around her fingers and wrist. This time the snake-like mist felt warm and tingly, like the hissing sparks of a doused flame. Not enough to burn, but enough to set the tiny curls at the nape of Serena’s neck on end. When the mist started to trail up her arm, she could feel its essence trying to meld with hers in an attempt to probe her mind. Afraid of its intent, she instinctively closed her eyes and tried to close her mind. Uncertain of her success, and leery of the consequences of failure, she quickly drew back. Temporarily thwarted, the vaporous tentacle dissipated briefly then reformed again to lightly encircle her wrist. Struggling not to show her fear, she pulled back again, and this time it dissipated completely.
* * * *
Feeling as if he’d been punched in his solar plexus, Dominic dragged in a lungful of air and regarded his half-sister with a look of suspicion. “Who did you say you invited here?”
Her expression immediately turned to one of concern. “I told you, I invited ten women all from good, but impoverished families.”
“Really,” he replied, then sucked in another deep breath through his teeth as he fought to regain control over his tumultuous mix of emotions. “Well, you may need to rethink the ‘goodness’ of the families you selected, sister dear, since one of your fine, upstanding ladies is not at all what she claims to be,” he admitted coolly despite the fact that his heart still pounded in his chest. He had often released his anger in this manner, but he had never before encountered any thing or one who could match and counter it so effectively. The presence, though powerful, was untrained, definitely female and overflowing with distrust. Even so, she had managed to diffuse his rage with a single touch.
“What do you mean she’s not what she claims to be?” Regina asked, her uncertainty reflected in her face and posture.
His equilibrium restored, Dominic regarded Regina with a practiced look of detachment. “I mean that one of your guests possesses powers that she is taking great pains to hide from you and the others. In short we have a visitor under our roof who is here for reasons she purposely doesn’t want us to know.”
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