Maia sniffed and pushed past him out into the darkness, pulling Angelica with her. In her haste, she narrowly avoided a puddle of something disgusting and climbed into the carriage with her sister’s help. Maia settled in the seat next to her.
Corvindale spoke to the groom then joined them inside, taking up nearly the entire seat across from them with his wide shoulders and arms stretched across the back. His long legs were tucked into the space between Maia’s skirts and the side of the vehicle. The door closed and with barely a jolt, they started off.
“You’re not hurt?” Maia was asking as Angelica tried to bury herself in the corner of the seat, huddling beneath the cloak that smelled of Voss. The scent was both nauseating and familiar. “What happened? Where have you been?”
But Angelica didn’t wish to talk. Now that she was safe, all she wanted to do was curl up in a corner and cry.
“Angelica,” Maia said, tugging at the cloak as if to draw her attention.
Angelica clutched it tighter, partly because she was chilled and partly because she sensed that it would not bode well if Maia or the earl saw the marks on her neck. There would be more questions, more demands and remonstrations, along with pity and sympathy. None of which she wanted to contend with. “Miss Woodmore,” Corvindale broke in icily, “perhaps you might leave your sister to her own thoughts. It’s clear, at least to me, that she is in no humor to speak at this time.”
Angelica felt Maia’s outrage and eyed her sister with interest. It wasn’t often that she received a set-down, and even more rare that she would decline to respond in her own bitingly proper way. But to her surprise, she merely turned away from the earl and redoubled her efforts to get Angelica to answer her questions.
The drive to Blackmont Hall took much too long, in Angelica’s estimation, but she managed to appease her elder sister’s demands by giving brief, vague answers to some of her questions. The night was dark, for clouds filtered across the portion of the moon that was showing, and even the streetlamps gave off weak illumination. She could hardly wait to climb out of the carriage and find the sanctuary of her own chamber—or at least, the one that had been allotted to her during their stay with Corvindale.
The thought brought her brother to mind, and Angelica once again felt confusion and surprise at what Voss had told her about Chas.
But the peace she sought was not to be, for no sooner had they stepped into the foyer of the grand but sober house than the earl turned to her. “Angelica,” he said. “A word if I may.”
Angelica didn’t like the expression on his face. It wasn’t frightening so much as fearsome: tight and dark, as if he were about to explode with some great fury. She knew that it wasn’t directed at her, but regardless, his countenance gave her pause, made her more than a bit apprehensive. “Of course, my lord,” she said, and started down the corridor in the direction he gestured.
“If you’ll excuse us, Miss Woodmore,” he said behind her.
“But—” Maia’s voice, strained and just as furious as his expression, was cut off by the earl.
“I will speak to your sister, my
“I wish to be present. I
“Maia,” said Angelica, strangely relieved that her sister wouldn’t be there during the interrogation that was sure to come, “I will come directly to your chamber when Lord Corvindale and I are finished.”
“Angelica,” Maia said in a heartfelt whisper, “I want to be there with you.”
Angelica turned to look at her elder sister, who stood as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown on her. “I’m sorry, but it will be easier if you are not. I promise I will come to you straight away.”
Maia met her eyes, and Angelica nearly gave in. Her sister seemed not only shocked and saddened but hurt, as well. And she realized at that moment that somehow, Maia felt as if she’d failed her. Somehow, she felt responsible for what had happened.
“As you like,” Maia said at last, and then turned away.
The earl gave Angelica a brief nod of gratitude and opened the door she knew led to his study. Once inside, he closed the door, but not all the way.
This brought a bit of a dark smile to her lips. “I appreciate the attention to propriety, my lord, but it’s a bit late to be worried about that now.”
His face darkened. “Take off that damned cloak and let me see what he’s done.”
Angelica shouldn’t have been surprised that he knew, but she was. The cloak fell away and the earl leaned closer so that he could see her neck.
“Anywhere else?” he asked, shifting back.
She shook her head.
“Anywhere else?” he asked again, looking both distinctly uncomfortable and darkly furious at the same time.
“No.” Then she realized what he was asking. “I am… intact.” Her cheeks heated but she ignored it.
“By Fate, I’ll kill him if your brother doesn’t first,” Corvindale said, stalking over to the massive desk. A vase holding a collection of roses and lilies sat there, and he paused, staring at it as if it were some foul object. “But I’ll make it quick instead of painful.”
“Now that you have introduced the topic…” Angelica said, gathering her courage. Corvindale was intimidating in his demeanor, and there was no reason he wouldn’t turn his anger on her if she annoyed him, but she would try.
After all, he hadn’t yet beheaded Maia.
“Is it true that Chas has gone off with a vampire woman?”
Corvindale cursed, and didn’t even attempt to hide the fact that he said something terribly improper. “What else did he tell you?”
“He told me that Cezar Mol…davi, I believe it is, wants to kill Chas and that’s why Maia and I are in danger. He wants to use us as ransom. Cezar is one of those horrid monsters, too.”
The earl had picked up the slender vase with the flowers in it and now he stalked over to the other end of the study. With a quiet, forceful clunk, he set the vase on a table near the window. “What he told you is true, surprisingly enough. Dewhurst isn’t known for his candor. What else did he tell you?”
“Little else. Is my brother truly in danger?” Despite the fact that she’d foreseen Chas’s death many years in the future, after all of the upheaval in the last days, Angelica needed reassurance. It was possible that things could change, wasn’t it?
“Your brother is more than capable of taking care of him self,” Corvindale replied in the most gentle voice she’d heard him use. Which was to say, it was neither loud, sharp, nor harsh…but it wasn’t particularly kind by normal standards. “Did Dewhurst not tell you about him?”
“What do you mean?”
The earl shook his head. “It’s best that I keep his confidence. But when next we see him—and I am confident we will—I’ll insist he tell you and Miss Woodmore the truth.”
“Dewhurst said that he might have eloped with Cezar’s sister. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—
Corvindale’s face was a study in stonework. “I cannot say what your brother’s intention would be, but I sincerely doubt marriage is a possibility. The thought is absurd.” He’d walked back toward the desk, then turned and looked at her once again. “Is there anything else you wish to tell me?”
She took that as an invitation to tell him the details of what happened at Rubey’s, and his face grew darker. But he said nothing else, other than, “Anything else?”
As if his demeanor invited confidences. Angelica closed her eyes, suddenly weary and heartsick again. “No. May I be excused now, my lord? I would like nothing better than to lie down.”
His expression eased slightly, making him look almost handsome. “Yes, go. Tell Mrs. Hunburgh you are to have a bath sent to your chamber.”
Angelica left the study and closed the door behind her. She didn’t pause to ring for the housekeeper, nor did she go to her chamber. Instead she found her way to Maia’s room and opened the ajar door to find her sister pacing the floor.
“At last,” she said, rushing to embrace Angelica again. “My darling, I’ve been so worried for you.”
