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    The Second Seduction

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    e woman’s

      servants?”

      “Everyone. For almost a month we searched the area,

      describing Lucien, but he’d vanished.”

      Rosalind frowned. “I don’t understand how he arrived

      back at Castle St. Clare.”

      Charles took her arm and they walked through a crum-

      bling stone archway into the wilderness outside. Th

      e blue of

      the sea was visible and the muted thunder of waves beating at

      the cliff base became audible.

      “I’m not sure Lucien knows. He doesn’t remember what

      happened and he’s tight-lipped about where he was before

      returning to St. Clare. As I said, he’s changed. He’s no longer

      outgoing and cheerful. I’m not sure I’ve seen him smile since

      his return. He’s distant, not just with me, but with Justin

      145

      SHELLEY MUNRO

      too, and he’s known Justin since the cradle. We used to do

      everything together. And, now we don’t.”

      A silence fell between them as they strolled the path,

      each deep in their own thoughts.

      Rosalind wondered what had happened to Hastings.

      After seeing his scar, it was obvious he’d been attacked and

      injured, but what else had happened to cause an outgoing

      man to change so much?

      “He doesn’t want to be married to me,” she cried.

      Charles stopped in the middle of the path, a frown on his

      face. In the heartbeat before he spoke, Rosalind heard the call

      of a sea bird and the buzz of a bee collecting pollen from the

      profusion of fl owers. Miserably, she focused on the sounds to

      counteract her embarrassment.

      His hand tipped up her chin, forcing her to look at him.

      “I’m sure you are mistaken.”

      “No, he tried to call off the wedding before we were mar-

      ried.” Th

      e words burst from her once she was over her initial

      shock. “And now, he ignores me. I’ll never have children.”

      Charles’ jaw sagged. He blinked. “You mean . . .?”

      Rosalind lifted her shoulders in a wretched shrug, color

      scorching her cheeks.

      “Oh.” Charles cleared his throat. “Give it time. Lucien

      has much to deal with.”

      146

      THE SECOND SEDUCTION

      “Maybe,” Rosalind murmured, but she didn’t believe

      time would heal the breach without help. Charles hadn’t seen

      Lucien last night. Th

      ere wasn’t a doubt in her mind. Lucien

      had said he didn’t want children, and he meant it.

      “I’m sure I’m right,” Charles said. “Ah. I believe this is

      the perfect spot for you to capture the vista. What do you

      think?” He stopped by a stone wall.

      Rosalind nodded, hardly caring where she set herself up

      to draw. In truth, she wanted to think, not paint. She needed

      to decide how to cope with Hastings, with Lady Augusta, the

      mystery of her disappearing clothes, and all the other strange

      things that had been happening.

      Like or not, she and Hastings were married. She must

      make some sort of life for herself.

      Charles set her drawing materials on top of a fl at stone.

      “Can I do anything else for you before I leave? Help you

      set up?”

      Rosalind forced a cheerful smile but remained chilled

      inside. “Th

      ank you, Cousin Charles. I’ll be fi ne on my own.

      Will you be here for dinner?” Th

      e idea of his company at the

      dinner table appealed, especially if they were to dine without

      company tonight. A shudder worked its way down her spine

      when she imagined Lady Augusta’s pointed remarks and fault

      fi nding, along with Hastings’ silence and scowls. Cousin

      147

      SHELLEY MUNRO

      Charles’ light-hearted company helped immensely during the

      longwinded dinners.

      “Justin is home from London, dancing attendance on his

      mother. We’re attending a picnic organized by Lady Helena

      and her mother. No doubt Justin will arrive at Castle St.

      Clare for dinner. He has some interesting experiences. He

      returned to Italy for a time and traveled to the East, to Con-

      stantinople. Sultan Abdul Musa befriended him after Justin

      saved the Sultan’s brother from being trampled by a horse.

      Justin’s stories of life in the Sultan’s palace are . . . colorful,”

      Charles ended with an embarrassed splutter.

      “I look forward to meeting him,” Rosalind said, hiding

      her amusement. He meant the tales were not suitable for

      ladies’ ears.

      Charles grinned. “You’ll like Justin. Most people do.

      Would you like to attend the picnic with me?”

      And give Lady Helena another shot at ridiculing her

      dress? Rosalind shook her head. “I’ll see you tonight.”

      “All right.” With a quick wave, Charles sauntered off .

      Rosalind frowned as she watched him depart. And

      sighed, feeling sorry for herself. Why wasn’t Hastings more

      agreeable, like his cousin?

      148

      VIII

      Lady Augusta wants you.”

      Th

      e rough male voice startled Rosalind. She leapt off

      her perch on the stone wall, her hand fl uttering to her breast.

      Th

      e footman waited in silence, his face impassive. Rosalind

      studied the intelligent glint in his brown eyes before deciding

      against a plea to say he couldn’t fi nd her. She frowned. If she

      refused to return to the castle, he’d probably escort her by

      force. He looked the sort to follow orders.

      Heaving a resigned sigh and muttering under her breath,

      Rosalind packed up her drawing materials. Lady Augusta

      had trapped her neatly this time.

      “Where will I fi nd Lady Augusta?” she asked.

      “In the Blue drawing room.”

      Rosalind inclined her head. “Th

      ank you.” She walked

      SHELLEY MUNRO

      past the South Tower and into the courtyard.

      Th

      e squeaking of leather shoes and the rustle of fabric

      indicated the footman followed.

      She stopped and turned to fi x him with a haughty stare.

      “I know where the Blue drawing room is.”

      “Lady Augusta bade me escort you right to her.”

      Rosalind noted his expression remained impassive, al-

      though goodness knows what the man was thinking. Lady

      Augusta was treating her like a child, or someone lacking

      in wits.

      Rosalind’s chin jerked up. “I will change my gown before

      I attend Lady Augusta.”

      Th

      e footman proved equally stubborn. “Lady Augusta

      said immediately.”

      While they were engaged in a duel of wills, Hastings ap-

      peared in the courtyard. Rosalind’s heart thumped unexpect-

      edly hard, and her mouth dried as though she’d eaten too

      much pickled meat. Was her husband going to acknowledge

      her this morning? She swallowed, fi ghting to hold emotion in

      check. Or, would he walk past right past, treating her like an

      unfortunate encumbrance?

      “Good morning, Hastings.” Rosalind decided to take a

      stand. He was her hus
    band whether he liked it or not. She

      halted in front of him so he needed to step around her to

      150

      THE SECOND SEDUCTION

      avoid knocking her to the ground.

      He stopped inches away. His dark eyes narrowed al-

      though she thought she saw a fl icker of surprise, and perhaps

      approval. A tic kicked to life at the bottom of his scar.

      Rosalind watched in fascination, the pulsing of the

      muscle right near his fi rm mouth. “Good morning,” she

      prompted again. Her heart thumped at her daring, at the

      strange fl ash of emotion in his dark eyes. She’d be lucky if he

      didn’t imprison her in the North Tower with the ghost.

      “What are you doing?”

      Rosalind suspected he was asking why she was blocking

      his way, but she pretended ignorance. Instead, she shot an ag-

      grieved look at the silent footman by her side. “Lady Augusta

      has summoned me.”

      One dark brow rose and his mouth curled upward at the

      very edges. “Best hurry then, before she takes it out on the

      footman.”

      Th

      at was a defi nite smirk, Rosalind thought. Bother

      the man. He’d hit on the one thing that would make her

      hasten to the appointment. Still, she was reluctant to leave

      without a few words from her husband. Without thought, she

      reached out to touch his hand. “Your friend Justin is coming

      for dinner tonight. I’m looking forward to meeting him. I’ve

      heard so much about him from Charles.”

      151

      SHELLEY MUNRO

      Lucien didn’t reply. Th

      e picture that formed in her mind

      was not the one she expected. She’d anticipated a vision of

      Charles and perhaps another man — Justin. Instead, the

      image was dark. Apprehension prickled her skin. Her gaze

      shot to Hastings. His distant, unfocused expression mirrored

      her confusion.

      Hawk. A faceless fi gure, he prowled Hastings’ mind with

      a sinister menace. Rosalind exhaled slowly. Was this the same

      man that she read in the villagers’ minds when she treated

      their ailments?

      Hastings shrugged, snapping the fragile contact she held

      with his mind. “I have things to do.” His gaze narrowed fur-

      ther as he waited for Rosalind to move. Taking a deep breath,

      she did as he silently bid, her mind too full of unanswered

      questions to challenge him again.

      Rosalind entered the Great Hall, trailed by her silent sentry.

      “Where is that dratted footman?” Lady Augusta’s screech

      echoed down the passage, exploding into the Great Hall with

      the force of a nor’easter.

      Th

      ere was nothing for it. Rosalind knew she had to face

      Lady Augusta. Th

      e footman must not be punished because

      of her reluctance. Rosalind took a deep breath and sailed into

      the Blue salon to meet with her nemesis.

      “Th

      ere you are! Where have you been, girl? And what

      152

      THE SECOND SEDUCTION

      are you wearing?” Lady Augusta’s voice rose even higher if

      that were possible, her gray eyes burned with anger while her

      mouth wrinkled up like an old apple left out in the sun.

      Before Rosalind answered, Lady Augusta’s gaze cut to

      the silent footman. “I told you immediately. Tell Tickell your

      next half day is cancelled.”

      A horrifi ed gasp escaped from Rosalind, and for the

      fi rst time she saw a fl ash of irritation on the footman’s face.

      “Th

      at’s not fair!” she blurted. “It’s my fault he took so long.

      I was way out by the Tower garden. Th

      en, on the way back I

      stopped to talk to Hastings. Th

      e butler mustn’t punish him

      on my account.”

      “Go,” Lady Augusta ordered the footman. “And don’t

      forget to see Tickell.”

      Aghast, Rosalind could only stare at the elderly woman

      in front of her. She decided to countermand the order later.

      “How can I help you, Lady Augusta?”

      “Where is that maid of yours? I told her to go to the

      village seamstress and come back with two suitable gowns for

      you. Where is she? I expected her back at least an hour ago.”

      “Mary and I visited the seamstress last week to order

      gowns. She’s busy with orders for the Mansfi eld ball.”

      “Which we are attending,” Lady Augusta snapped. “You

      can’t go in a gown such as the one you wore last night. You

      153

      SHELLEY MUNRO

      will make us a laughing stock. Your maid dresses better than

      you do. It’s no wonder Hastings spends so much time away

      from Castle St. Clare.”

      Hurt lanced through Rosalind at the cruel reminder,

      but Lady Augusta spoke the truth. Hastings refused to spend

      time with her. So, whom did he spend his time with? Th

      e lady

      who inhabited his memories?

      “Pour the chocolate, girl.” Lady Augusta’s abrasive tone

      jerked her from her sorry thoughts. “Where is your maid?

      You haven’t told me. Speak up, Lady Rosalind!”

      Th

      e dainty china bowls rattled as Rosalind arranged

      them on the small walnut table next to Lady Augusta. “I

      haven’t seen her since she helped me dress this morning.”

      “Discipline, girl! Th

      at’s the only thing they understand.

      If I fi nd she met with a man instead of hurrying back, there’ll

      be trouble. Servants need discipline.”

      Rosalind disagreed but knew better than to argue. She

      picked up the pot of chocolate and poured it into two bowls.

      She placed one within Lady Augusta’s reach.

      “Pass the sugar, girl!”

      “Yes, Lady Augusta.”

      She picked up the sugar bowl and held it toward Lady

      Augusta.

      “Two lumps.”

      154

      THE SECOND SEDUCTION

      Rosalind sighed, but followed the order. When she was

      about to place the sugar bowl down, Lady Augusta seized

      her hand.

      “Another lump.”

      A haze of red and white swirled through Rosalind’s mind

      at the contact. Th

      e red seeped through the white like drops

      of blood. Rosalind shivered involuntarily, feeling as though

      she was walking through a patch of cold fog. Th

      e fog cleared

      to show children. She saw Hastings, but a younger Hastings

      who laughed and gamboled over the sand with others chasing

      him. Th

      e fog swirled, rearranged, then cleared in a diff erent

      place, and Rosalind came face to face with herself. A soft

      gasp escaped; she wrenched away, jolting the sugar bowl and

      scattering lumps in all directions.

      “You stupid girl,” Lady Augusta barked. “Ring for a maid.”

      Rosalind backed away, blindly reaching for the hand

      bell to summon a servant. Lady Augusta worried about the

      future, about the continuation of the St. Clare line. And she

      was in pain — severe pain that she hid behind her irascible

      disposition.

      Th

      is presented a quandary. Ever
    ything inside her wanted

      to reach out and help, but how could she and keep her gift

      secret at the same time?

      She returned to where Lady Augusta sat in an upright

      155

      SHELLEY MUNRO

      chair. Cubes of sugar ground to crystals under her feet.

      “Stand still, girl. You’re making a mess.”

      “Yes, Lady Augusta,” Rosalind murmured, her mind

      busily thinking of ways to help the elderly woman without

      attracting attention to herself.

      Lady Augusta snapped instructions to the maid. She

      disappeared, then returned a short time later with a broom

      in hand.

      “Out of the way, girl!” Lady Augusta fl ashed an irritable

      look in Rosalind’s direction.

      Rosalind suppressed a sigh. Th

      ere was no winning with

      Lady Augusta. Everything she did was wrong.

      “Is that maid back yet?” the elderly woman barked. “You

      there! I’m talking to you. Has Lady Rosalind’s maid returned

      from the errand I sent her on?”

      “No, my lady.”

      “Where is the dratted girl?”

      “I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation,” Rosalind

      said, keeping her voice low and soothing.

      Lady Augusta let out a snort that sounded like an impa-

      tient horse. “I’ll want to hear it.”

      Rosalind sank onto a chair, well out of the maid’s way,

      and sipped her chocolate. She wondered if Lady Augusta had

      fi nished with her and when she might escape.

      156

      THE SECOND SEDUCTION

      Th

      e maid swept up the sugar, bobbed a curtsey, and hur-

      ried from the room leaving Rosalind alone with Lady Au-

      gusta. Rosalind took another sip of her chocolate waiting for

      Lady Augusta to speak. Th

      e silence drew out until Rosalind

      felt like screaming. She inched forward on her chair, her left

      hand clenching and unclenching in the folds of her skirt.

      “You’re not going to bring Hastings to heel the way you’re

      going about things.”

      Rosalind started. Th

      e bowl of chocolate she held almost

      bounded from her hands, splattering chocolate on her skirts.

      A dry chuckle burst from the elderly lady. Rosalind righted

      the bowl, both humiliated and resentful. She didn’t need

      Lady Augusta to tell her something was wrong. Her mouth

      tightened as she glowered at the woman.

      “Good to see you have some backbone. I was beginning

      to wonder. I’ve instructed that maid of yours to return with

      two gowns and ordered the seamstress to hurry the others.

      You’ll have a decent gown to wear to dinner tonight. Give

     


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