Bound By The Christmastide Moon: Regency Novella Page 9

  Though if Felicity or Aunt Hettie had noticed her distracted nature that morning, neither had commented on it.

  “Will you be buying that, miss?” Mallory glanced up to see the proprietor at her elbow gesturing to her hands. She’d removed the ivory sewing kit and now clutched it in her hands. “I can have it wrapped for you.”

  “Oh, it is lovely, and I was going to purchase it for a friend; however, I only now remembered she does not enjoy sewing as a pastime.” Mallory returned the kit to its place in the window and smiled as the man moved on to another customer.

  Glancing about the shop, Aunt Hettie was occupied, picking through a large bowl of pearl buttons while their footman had been sent back to the carriage a while ago with more packages to stow.

  Staring out the window once more, Mallory searched the busy street for any sign of her betrothed. Certainly, he must leave the tavern soon, for there was absolutely no chance of Mallory convincing her aunt to dine in the public room at The Crown & Anchor. Perhaps she’d consider the notion if the establishment suggested was The Mermaid’s Kiss, the proper lodging house farther away from the dock area. However, Silas hadn’t secured a room there.

  Maybe Mallory should give up on seeing Silas again before the spring.

  But then, what if her vision came true and he didn’t make it until the spring?

  It would be Mallory’s doing for not warning him.

  “Are you ready, my girl?” Aunt Hettie shouted across the shop as she hefted a large box. “My feet will be in need of rest before long.”

  “Yes, Aunt Hettie.” Mallory hurried over and took the box from her, tucking it under her arm. “You wanted to visit the apothecary shop before returning to Tetbery, correct?”

  “Of course.” From her aunt’s shrill tone, Mallory suspected the woman had forgotten about needing her tonic that helped with the pain in her shoulders and knees. “I must stop at old Gustavo’s while here. There is little telling when we will be back in Bocka Morrow.”

  When? Mallory was certain she meant if.

  With the duke continuing to demand Felicity journey to London for a proper Season, they would not receive another invitation to stay at Tetbery.

  She thought of Lord Lichfield and his family who lived at the castle not far from town. Perhaps after they wed, an invitation to visit the castle would be extended. Aunt Hettie could not even bring herself to exit the carriage at the old castle; it was highly unlikely she’d agree to lodge within.

  With a sigh, Mallory followed her aunt from the shop and turned toward Gustavo’s Apothecary Shoppe, and nearly collided with the one man she’d been hoping to see since waking that very morning from a deliciously sweet night filled with improper dreams.

  Silas wouldn’t have left Slade alone at the tavern if the need hadn’t been great. His coat had been utterly ruined by smoke the day before, and he doubted even a proper laundress could remove the smell from the garment. Which meant Silas had two options: procure a new overcoat or freeze in the blasted cold.

  Certainly an hour away from The Crown & Anchor wasn’t time enough for Slade to find trouble—or worse, run up a sizable debt in the card room.

  With his head down to protect his uncovered face and neck from the cold, he stepped around a woman who’d rudely taken to walking down the middle of the walkway, leaving not enough room for a grown man to pass on either side unless they turned sideways.

  “Lord Lichfield?” Poised and properly attired, Lady Mallory stood before him—her gown of the lightest blue he’d ever seen, high-waisted with a bodice laced with small pearls that reflected the sun from above. Her hair was brushed and gathered at her shoulder with a small, unadorned hat perched securely atop her head. The large, wrapped package under her arm slipped slightly.

  …and she smiled up at him.

  “Lady Mallory.” He turned slightly, not the least bit shocked it was Lady Hettie Hughes who took up a large portion of the walkway. “Lady Hettie. It is nice to see you both. I thought you’d be safely on your way to Blenheim Park by now.”

  Lady Hettie snorted. “Thought so myself, but Mallory desired another day at Tetbery, though I cannot see how she can handle this bone-chilling coastal air.”

  She glanced up at him from under hooded lids. “We are finishing a bit of holiday gift shopping before we return home.”

  Her cheeks blossomed with color, and there was little doubt she was picturing their embrace from the day before.

  “Allow me to hold your package, my lady.”

  “It is not so heavy,” she said. “We are to visit only one last shop and then return to our carriage.”

  “I am afraid I must insist.” He reached for the box, and she gladly handed it over. “I can deliver it to your carriage while you continue shopping.”

  “Certainly kind of you, Lichfield,” Lady Hettie said, her brow rising with suspicion.

  “I will walk with him, Auntie, while you speak with Gustavo. If that is agreeable.” He noted she kept her stare on Lady Hettie, not risking a glance in his direction. “We will deliver the package, and I shall return quickly to help you.”

  The old woman straightened her stooped shoulders to glare up at Silas. He gave her his most reassuring smile.

  But when Lady Hettie’s eyes darkened, he suspected she’d found no reassurance in his open grin.

  “Very well, but do not dilly-dally, and come straight back.”

  Mallory leaned close and placed a quick kiss to her aunt’s cheek. “Certainly, Aunt Hettie.”

  She waved them off and started for the apothecary shop down the walk.

  “It is this way, my lord,” Mallory said, gesturing in the opposite direction her aunt had started off in. “The carriage is only around the corner there.”

  He held out his arm to her, and she set her fingers lightly at the crook of his elbow.

  “I hope all is well with Miss Felicity and her laboratory.” Bloody hell. The last thing he wanted to speak of was another woman while Mallory was on his arm, but propriety demanded he ask after her friend. “Nothing was ruined in her lab, I hope.”

  She kept her gaze trained ahead of them, giving Silas the opportunity to admire her flawless, porcelain complexion and rounded button nose. “She had left the lab a few moments before. Turns out, no one in the manor heard the explosion but us. Nothing was damaged, and Felicity is free to continue her work.”

  “Very good,” he mumbled.

  “What of your evening, my lord,” she inquired. “How did you fare?”

  Yes, a much safer topic for discussion—on the surface, at least. “My brother arrived at sunset, and I have been getting him settled in Bocka Morrow. My aunt has insisted we attend the Yule ball at the castle tomorrow evening, and thus, I will be remaining in town a few more days.”

  “It must be nice to have your brother near.”

  “Well, it is better for all he is close where I can keep watch on him.”

  “You take much responsibility for your younger siblings,” she commented. “Sometimes, I long to have a sibling—any sibling—close and underfoot.”

  “What of your brother, the Earl of Bristol? He is unwed, and a bit of a notorious gentleman about town, or so I’ve heard.” It was all Silas could think of to distract her from conversation about his family. While his aunt had unknowingly exposed part of his secret, there was much more he didn’t want her to know. “Does he not visit Blenheim often?”

  They kept a slow pace as they walked, each knowing once their task was complete, he’d need return her to Lady Hettie without delay…and he would have no other cause to remain in her presence.

  “I do not often see Adam or my father.” She paused, adjusting her hold on his arm. “I see my mother frequently when my father can spare her accompaniment in London. However, it is normally only Aunt Hettie I have for company.”

  “A pity, Lady Mallory, I have come to enjoy your company.” Not that they’d shared much time together, but she’d helped save him from the man outside the public
house and kissed him with much vigor. Certainly, those two instances qualified as moments when he enjoyed her company. “Why not travel to London to be closer to family?”

  She shook her head, her dark curls flowing over her shoulder to brush his arm. He only wished he could feel their soft, velvety strands through his linen shirt.

  “There would be no one to keep Aunt Hettie company if I went to town; besides, my father is a very busy man with Parliament and would not have much time anyways. I am happy at Blenheim.” Her listless tone spoke to the contrary.

  Silas longed to ask her more, but they’d arrived at the Tetbery carriage where a footman took the box from him and stored it in the boot.

  As they turned back toward the apothecary, he wondered if Lady Mallory didn’t need this marriage as much as he did. Could they both be struggling to find something that had been missing thus far in their lives?

  Chapter 13

  Mallory’s dilemma of how she’d get to the Yule ball at Keyvnor had been as easily remedied as her excuse for delaying their departure from Tetbery. The hours spent in Bocka Morrow yesterday had left Aunt Hettie with aching feet and the sniffles, as well as a groggy head, thus putting off their return home until the next morning.

  It was all the reprieve Mallory would receive—and, hopefully, all she needed.

  With Aunt Hettie under the weather in bed, and Felicity entertained elsewhere, Mallory had set about preparing herself for the ball. As she’d never attended a proper London soirée, especially one in celebration of a blessed union of two couples, she wasn’t entirely certain of her attire. Years prior, she’d gone to a small country festival in Launceston, yet it was in no way as grand as the ball to take place at the castle. And if she were being honest, she’d only stood on the fringes of that gathering, never daring to join in the revelry.

  This night was to be different.

  Perhaps she would even be so bold as to dance with Silas…before everyone.

  Gowned in a pretty green taffeta dress with a wide gold sash about her waist, Mallory had hurried down the stairs and out to the stables in hopes of securing a horse to ride to the castle. The journey was not far, and though it was cold, her cloak would keep the worst of the dirt from her dress. If she kept her head bent low over the horse’s neck, the wind would not completely ruin her perfectly coiffured curls.

  To her delight, the duke’s carriage stood waiting, and the driver offered her transport to Castle Keyvnor. If he thought it peculiar that she was attending the ball alone, he spoke not a word of it. He’d likely already delivered Wycliffe to the castle. When he dropped her at the back of a line of carriages waiting to dispose of their own passengers, he’d promised to return for her later in the evening.

  And so, Mallory found herself creeping about the outside of Castle Keyvnor, her back pressed against the rough stone wall.

  She’d first thought to exit the carriage and walk directly into the castle—she’d been invited by the countess, after all. But then she’d spotted the gardens…a very familiar plot. She’d been plagued with déjà vu when she noticed the area before her meeting with the countess a few days prior, but under the bright Christmastide moon, the winter landscape was unmistakably the scene from her vision.

  Now, her satin slippers were damp with evening dew, and her nose was frozen to the point of numbness. Dirt clung to the hem of her cloak, and her hood hadn’t been enough to keep the wind from her hair. Her fingers were as stiff as the stone at her back.

  But none of that mattered to Mallory.

  This was where it would happen. This was where her vision would turn into reality, with the moon high and large overhead, and the deserted hedge maze in the near distance. Leafless branches hung low on an apple tree to the left, and a willow appeared frozen nearby.

  Her heart stopped for a brief moment with fear that Silas had already met his fate and she was too late to warn him, but no. The music and merriment at her back drifting from the open veranda doors of the castle did not let on that a tragedy had yet taken place.

  The ballroom was an utter crush, and locating Silas within would be nearly impossible.

  There was no better place to wait than in the garden, to halt him before it happened.

  It was the way things had to be. Silas needed to live, they must wed, and Mallory’s visions for her own future would be proven wrong. An eternity alone, devoid of her own home and family was a fate worse than death for her. Mallory’s years spent in solitude except for Aunt Hettie must come to an end. She could be content as Lord Lichfield’s wife. If their time together had proven anything, it was that the earl was a kind and compassionate man, and a lord who cared for his family. Once she was his family, he would care for her just as he did for his siblings.

  And there was no use denying she’d more than enjoyed their kiss outside Tetbery.

  Sure they were not a love match and hadn’t selected one another, but that did not prevent them from getting along amicably and having a family. Maybe even finding love someday. Many in England thrived in arranged marriages, coordinated by well-meaning and trusted family members who knew best when it came to determining the fate of future generations.

  Fate had brought them together, and Mallory would be damned if she’d allow it to take him away before things came to fruition. She would tell him, in time, of her gift, and he could call it what he would: either a blessing or a curse.

  As her indignation rose, so did it pump the blood through her veins and warm her.

  No matter how much her family tried to convince her otherwise, it would weigh on her greatly if she did not speak to Silas and keep him from entering the garden.

  As if her rambling mind had conjured him from thin air, Lord Lichfield hurried through the terrace doors and down the steps into the winter garden, glancing nervously over his shoulder the entire way as his boots sounded on the stone ground. He was running from something—or someone—but she hadn’t seen that in her vision. She’d never seen him in such a frenzy; gone were his composed demeanor and the aristocratic tilt of his chin.

  Uncertainty kept her frozen, remaining in her hiding spot against the castle wall as Silas moved farther into the garden, nearly to the hedge maze entrance. The vision she saw would not come to pass if he entered the maze.

  If she were wrong, and he halted outside its entrance, he would be struck down in a matter of moments.

  Silas slipped out the study door with a heavy sigh of relief. Everything was moving at lightning speed and was like a crushing weight on his shoulders. He’d never expected his mother’s family to be so welcoming, inviting him and his brother into the castle with open arms and good cheer. Part of him wished he’d left Slade in town and brought Sybil. She would have greatly enjoyed meeting her cousins and attending the ball.

  Unfortunately, he hadn’t brought his sister but his twin.

  Another of the reasons he’d found himself in the castle study. Slade had joined the tables in the card room almost immediately after their arrival. It was a friendly game with small bets being placed on the tables, and Silas doubted his brother could get into too much trouble over the course of a couple of hours. Yet, after only an hour’s time, his brother had left the card room in a hurry with angry shouts in his wake.

  Silas had extricated himself from the group he’d been speaking with but had lost his brother in the crush of people.

  Pity the footman had taken his newly tailored coat upon his arrival, for the night had grown exceedingly cold since the sun set hours before.

  Finally, the path led to the gardens bordering the castle, and the only place he’d yet to search for Slade. This was not how he’d thought to spend his evening, in pursuit of his rakehell twin. Certainly, he’d looked forward to making the acquaintance of more family, and in the deep recesses of his mind, he’d hoped Lady Mallory would attend. The countess had issued an invitation; however, Lady Hettie had spoken of her desire to return home. They were likely safely back at Blenheim Park as he stalked toward the winter
landscape of the castle gardens.

  The echo of footfalls drew Silas’s attention, but they came not from the garden but above. Stepping back from the castle wall, he looked upward, thankful the moon was high and bright, illuminating the battlements and parapet lining the top of the castle and going from one tower to another. A man rushed along the path overhead, carrying a large box of sorts. What could the man possibly be doing up there at this hour?

  There wasn’t time to ponder that. Silas needed to find Slade and fix whatever trouble he’d caused. If he’d garnered a hefty debt, Silas would make good on it. Somehow.

  It all happened too quickly. A burst of light green and gold darted out from the far side of the castle. Silas turned in that direction and spotted Slade standing close to the hedge maze. At the same time, a flash from above blinded him.

  He rubbed at his eyes, attempting to bring everything back into focus and banish the colored spots blurring his sight as he pivoted back toward the garden.

  Slade lay motionless on the ground.

  And a woman—Lady Mallory?—ran toward him.

  His heart stopped in his chest, and his lungs seized, preventing him from getting the air he needed to call out to them.

  Chapter 14

  A scream tore from Mallory’s throat, nearly bringing her to her knees as she desperately sought air to fill her lungs once more. When the loud crack had sounded, she ran toward him without a care for her own safety and allowed the winter night to cocoon her in its embrace. She’d been wrong, ever so wrong. There was no changing her visions, no altering fate, and undeniably no future happiness for her.

  Still, her heart told her it might not be too late.

  She could save him. Find out where the bullet had entered him and staunch the flow of blood.

  It had to have been gunfire that brought him down. She’d noted the flash as if it were very close to her, but she couldn’t stop to see who’d fired the weapon.

  There was no time for that.