Shannon Drake - Wicked

“Should I ride down on a shopping excursion, as well?” Evelyn suggested.

“Perhaps,” Brian mused. He sighed deeply. “And perhaps it’s time I began to accept a few of the invitations that have come my way.”

Evelyn laughed. “Indeed, I’ve been telling you that you should. But think of the fear in the hearts of many a debutante’s mama!”

“Yes, that’s a thought.”

“It’s a pity you haven’t a fiancée or wife to stand charmingly by your side. Proof, of course, that there is no curse upon the house, and that you are not a beast, just a man, wounded by a great family tragedy.”

“That’s true, as well,” he murmured, gazing at her as he considered her reply.

“Oh, good heavens, don’t look at me!” Evelyn said with a laugh. “I’m way too old, Your Grace!”

He had to grin at that. Evelyn was a beautiful woman. Her green eyes were filled with deep intelligence, and though nearing forty, she still possessed a face with such fine lines that she would be beautiful until the age of one hundred, should God grant such a life span.

“Ah, Evelyn! You know my heart as no other woman could or ever will, and yet, you’re quite right.” His face hardened. “And if I were to know a proper young marital prospect, I’d not bring her in on this charade. God knows what danger she could face.”

“Surely no one would drag an innocent into this tangled web of evil!” Evelyn murmured. “A lass could not be in danger.”

“My mother is dead, is she not?” he inquired tightly.

“Your dear mother was unusual, and that you must know. In her knowledge, in her pursuits, in her courage,” Evelyn said. “You will not find another woman like her.”

“No,” Brian agreed. “And still, that the fiends should have slain a woman turns my heart to stone, though I agree that I would have pursued this with no less resolve had it been my father alone who was so cruelly killed.” He hesitated a moment. “Ah, Evelyn, I am not happy that you are involved.”

Evelyn smiled. “I was involved before you were, actually,” she reminded him softly. “And I am more than willing to risk my life and all that I have. Still, I don’t believe that I’m in any danger. I haven’t the knowledge or the skill your mother possessed. And I don’t really believe that a young woman—a powder puff of a trophy on your arm—would actually be in danger, either. You are the one targeted, if there is to be any danger. Any enemy will know you will not let the dead lie buried until they do so in peace.”

“I am the one cursed,” he reminded her.

“And do you believe in curses?” she asked, somewhat amused.

“It depends on how one sees a curse. Cursed? Yes. I live in hell. Can the curse be lifted? Certainly. But I must find the cure, in all that I do,” he said solemnly.

Evelyn shook her head. “See? A lovely young woman, claiming to love you despite the hideousness of your face and all that has occurred in the past, does much to change the appearance of Carlyle—man and castle, if you will. Perhaps there is someone we could…hire.”

“You’re serious!” he said.

“I am. Honestly, what you need is someone quite beautiful at your side. Someone to accompany you into the rooms of society, someone to prove you human.”

“And I’ve worked so hard to create my image of bountiful kindness already!” he said sardonically.

“Yes, and that was necessary,” Evelyn agreed. “We’ve had no intruders at the castle—until now.”

“None that we know about,” he said sharply.

“Brian! It’s time for a change.”

“I cannot change my course until I have come to the end.”

“You may never come to an end.”

“You’re wrong. I will.”

She sighed. “Fine, then see it my way. Add a layer to your charade, Brian. You’ve done what can be done from the shadows, and you will continue to do so. But I really believe it’s time that you must reenter society. There is the invitation to the fund-raiser. You are certain we are dealing with members of scholarly organizations, and that is certainly a valid supposition. And who better than those who shared your parents’ love and fascination with the wonders of an ancient world? You’ve told me that you actually have your list of suspects narrowed down.”

He rose restlessly, paced before the fire. Ajax, nervous, sensing his master’s mood, whined. Brian took a moment to reassure the dog. “It’s all right, boy,” he said, then gave his attention to Evelyn once again. “Yes, we are seeking someone with a deep knowledge of the field. That is a given. But we are also seeking someone capable of murder, the kind of cunning and malicious premeditation that killed my parents.”

Evelyn was silent for a minute. Despite the year that had now gone by, it was impossible to remember how the late earl and his countess had died without feeling a terrible sense of pain and horror.

Brian walked to the occasional table behind the chairs, poured a portion of brandy into a snifter, swallowed it down and then looked at Evelyn. “Forgive my manners,” he said. “My dear, would you like a brandy?”

“Yes, actually,” she said, smiling. He poured some into her snifter first, then refilled his own.

Lifting his glass to her, he said dryly, “To the night. To darkness and shadows.”

“No, to the day and the light,” she said firmly.

He grimaced.

“It’s time, I’m telling you,” Evelyn insisted. “We must somehow find you a delightful young woman. Not incredibly wealthy or titled. That would be too absurd, considering…well, with your reputation, no one would believe it. Still, there would have to be just the right circumstances, the right someone. She should be young enough, beautiful, compassionate and possessing a certain charm, as well. With the right woman by your side, you’d be able to continue your investigations without worrying about desperate mothers ready to sacrifice their daughters to the beast, all for the sake of the wealth of Carlyle.”

“And where do I acquire this charming beauty?” he asked, grinning. “She must have a certain intelligence—and the charm of which you speak—otherwise having her at my side would do no good. The concept of searching the streets to hire such a woman would not work, either. I can promise you that we will not find such a sweet, well-spoken beauty in such a quest. So there is little hope. It’s most unlikely that such a perfect candidate will come knocking at the door!”

It was precisely then that a tapping did sound, firm upon the door to the den.

Shelby, in his footman’s attire—a little bizarre, but certainly imposing upon a man of his great size and musculature—cracked open the door when bidden to do so.

“There’s a young woman to see you, Lord Brian.” He seemed quite baffled.

“A young woman?” Brian repeated, frowning.

Shelby nodded. “Actually, a very beautiful young woman, waiting down at the gates.”

“A young woman!” Evelyn exclaimed, staring at Brian.

“Yes, yes, we’ve established that,” Brian said. “What is her name? Why has she come?”

“What does it matter?” Evelyn said. “You must invite her in and find out what it is that she needs or wants.”

“Evelyn, certainly it matters. She must be a fool, to be coming here. Or she’s working for someone,” Brian said.

Evelyn waved a hand in the air. “Shelby, you must bring her in. Immediately. Oh, Brian! Please, you mustn’t always be so suspicious.”

He arched a brow.

“Brian, please! We haven’t had an actual visitor here since…in years!” she finished with a flush. “I can serve a delightful meal. It’s actually quite exciting!”

“Exciting,” Brian said dryly. He lifted his hands. “Shelby, do invite the young woman in.” He looked at Evelyn. “For, indeed, she has come tapping at our door.”