Secrets 03 - Shattered Secrets Read online

  Much to her surprise, Tiago stood outside the library door, hands folded before him, as though guarding the entrance.

  “Good afternoon, Tiago.”

  “And to you, Miss Dorsey. How are you this beautiful day?” The man was incredibly charming and handsome in a different way than she had ever seen before.

  A glance at him confirmed he was from a foreign land. He seemed to be both servant and friend to Lucas. That pleased Moira, as she thought the new, somber Lucas needed a friend.

  “I am well. Thank you. And you?”

  “Very well. The autumn weather is quite pleasant.” He remained in his position directly in front of the door, making entry impossible. “Though I do miss the sun from my country.”

  “Does it shine all the time in Brazil?”

  “Not always, but certainly more than in England.”

  “I was hoping for a moment with Lord Berkmond.”

  “I’m terribly sorry, but he is unavailable at the present time.”

  “It won’t take long. I have two matters that require his attention.” Moira waited, certain he’d step aside and open the door.

  “I’d be happy to convey your message to his lordship once he becomes available.”

  “When will that be?” Moira couldn’t understand what this was all about.

  “I’ll confirm the timing with his lordship and advise you as quickly as possible.”

  “Is he with someone?”

  “No.”

  “Then why don’t I speak with him now? That would be much easier for all of us.” She gave him a polite smile, thinking surely he’d agree.

  “It is simply not possible.” Again he gave her the charming smile that was starting to annoy her. “I will express your desire to speak with him as soon as he becomes available.”

  Moira stared at Tiago. There was more to this than he was saying, but what could she do? “Very well. Please advise him the sooner the better.”

  “Of course, miss.” Tiago bowed, his no-longer-so-charming smile still in place.

  Moira glanced back as she turned the corner down the hall, wondering what secret he was keeping for Lucas. This confirmed one thing—she didn’t really know Lucas at all anymore. She bit her lip, reminding herself that learning more about him was not in her best interest.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Vincent Simmons shivered in the cool autumn mist that hung like shrouds in the field. The weather was only part of the reason for his chills. He eyed the massive standing stones encircling them with unease. The tops of the stones were barely visible in the fog. Wiltshire seemed an odd place for such a site. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why someone had bothered to drag these stones here and put them in a circle. What was the point of it?

  “Stonehenge is a wondrous place, is it not?” His uncle, Joseph Grisby, tipped his head back and breathed deeply. He seemed thrilled to be wandering inside the circle.

  Many words came to Vincent’s mind, but wondrous was not one of them. He felt oddly exposed here, so far from the city and all that was familiar. “This place gives me the creeps.”

  “Perhaps the spirit of the dead is what bothers you. There are burial mounds here.” His uncle smiled, pulling the scarred side of his face into a gruesome mask. “Or perhaps your unease comes from the pagan rituals practiced on those very stones.”

  Vincent glanced at them with a grimace. “What sort of rituals?”

  “Blood. Sexual intercourse. Murder. The stories depend on who you ask.” The old man leaned heavily on his cane as he made his way across the uneven ground to pause before one of the standing stones.

  “I heard tell the Druid Celtics built it.” Vincent followed reluctantly. They had the place to themselves today, but that only added to the eeriness that gripped the site.

  “Lord Avebury, in his Prehistoric Times, argues it was built in the Bronze Age.”

  Vincent stared at his uncle, uncertain what he was saying. Vincent refused to ask though. Uncle Grisby seemed to enjoy rubbing his knowledge in Vincent’s face.

  “I simply don’t have time to explain when the Bronze Age occurred, Vincent. Your lack of knowledge never ceases to amaze me.” The condescending way in which he said it irritated Vincent to no end.

  As a former professor at Cambridge, Joseph Grisby’s ego was larger than life. Never mind that his work in the lab there had resulted in a terrible electromagnetic blast seriously injuring him and his three students. His uncle had been declared dead at the time, but when Vincent arrived, he’d realized that while the blast had significantly slowed his uncle’s heartbeat and damaged the left side of his body, it hadn’t killed him. Not quite.

  Vincent still felt very underappreciated for that bit of cleverness. Granted, he’d made a few mistakes of his own in the past ten years, two of which had landed him in prison. But he didn’t care to dwell on those since his uncle had been able to free him both times. The first time had taken nearly ten years as he’d had to switch places with another prisoner and serve his term. The man had hung in Vincent’s place with no one the wiser. Well, almost no one.

  Vincent’s second time in prison had lasted only a couple of weeks. His uncle had paid a visit, giving him a special drug that had convinced the police he was dead and allowed his body to be hauled away. The severe headache with which Vincent had woken seemed a small price to pay for his freedom.

  Since the police thought him dead, he’d gotten away with the murder of an earl, despite an eye witness. A certain cockiness filled him at the thought.

  Uncle Grisby was the one who’d ordered the murder, so Vincent had already decided that, if caught, he wasn’t going to take all the blame. Not this time. A man always needed a secondary plan in case the first one went awry.

  “Can you feel it, Vincent?” His uncle raised a trembling hand to tentatively touch a stone.

  “Feel what?”

  “The incredible energy here. This place is aligned with the magnetic North Pole. Magnetic energy flows freely here.”

  Vincent had no desire to touch the rough stones. Though he would admit the very air seemed to vibrate with a strange force.

  His uncle’s cane fell to the ground as he placed his other hand on it. “I feel it. Down to my bones.” He moved closer still to lean against it, closing his eyes.

  “What are ye tryin’ to do?” While his uncle’s antics were always strange, this had to be one of the oddest. Hugging rocks? What would come next?

  “Some say the stones have healing properties. That could be in part because of the magnetic energy they emit.”

  Vincent nearly smirked but decided against it in case his uncle opened his eyes. Instead, he wisely held his silence, waiting, watching.

  Uncle Grisby’s fascination with magnetism, or rather, electromagnetism to be precise, was something Vincent would never understand. But at the moment, it provided a roof over his head and food in his belly along with the hope of something more in the near future.

  Several minutes passed until at last his uncle eased back and motioned for Vincent to fetch his cane.

  “Did it work? Are ye feelin’ better?”

  Uncle Grisby said nothing. He took his cane and stepped away. His limp seemed as bad as ever as he walked to the next stone and pressed against it for several minutes.

  Vincent held his tongue as he followed behind his uncle from stone to stone, repeating the process. He couldn’t blame the man really. If he was as damaged as his uncle, he might’ve done the same, grasping at any chance to make himself whole again.

  But Vincent didn’t believe such a thing was possible.

  When they’d started experimenting on people with the electromagnetic devices his uncle built, Vincent thought Uncle Grisby might use them to help heal his body. After all, healing had been the intent ten years ago, before the terrible lab accident.

  Once his uncle had begun his recovery, it hadn’t taken Vincent long to realize his purpose had changed along with his appearance. Now his plan to create a
weapon capable of considerable destruction was well underway.

  In truth, none of that mattered to Vincent. The pay was the same no matter what the devices were used for. Though they’d had some modest success in creating the weapon, Vincent held doubts the whole scheme would work. Then again, he still wasn’t sure what the ‘whole scheme’ was. Something about restoring England to its former glory, which made no sense. From his perspective, England, and London in particular, had never been glorious. The dirty streets, the coal dust in the air, the street urchins, and all the seedy characters that made up the East End, supported Vincent’s view.

  Glorious, my arse.

  But he wasn’t paid to think. Uncle Grisby had told him that many times. He was here to do as he was told. And today, that meant following his uncle around the eerie ring of stones.

  Uncle Grisby hugged a few more before at last turning to Vincent, the weakness on his left side still visible. “We’ll need specimens of these.”

  “And me without my chisel.” How the hell did he expect Vincent to take a piece?

  “I have suggested on numerous occasions you should be prepared for whatever task I require.”

  Vincent glared at his uncle’s back as he turned toward the coach that had brought them. Of course it was Vincent’s fault. It always was.

  Muttering a curse under his breath, Vincent examined the stone closest to him for a crevice that might allow him to pry away a piece, still reluctant to touch it. He stalked around it, finding nothing. Finally, he glanced down to see several rocks on the ground nearby. He didn’t know if they’d come off the standing ones or not. They were a different color, but a rock was a rock, wasn’t it?

  He picked up the two largest chunks and brushed them off, hoping they would satisfy his uncle then hurried after him to the coach, more than ready to leave this disturbing place. It would be a long ride back to London, but Vincent looked forward to returning to the city and civilization.

  *

  Lucas closed his eyes for a moment as he stood outside the door of the girls’ nursery. Tiago had informed him Moira arrived, and she’d requested to speak with him while he’d been indisposed yesterday.

  He still felt ill, but nothing like before. The pounding in his head had eased to a faint shadow as had the black cloud that engulfed him. Many things required his attention today and remaining ensconced in the library again was not an option. How had Markus managed all the responsibilities and duties that required attention each day? From tenants to investments to his role in Parliament, the list of decisions needing to be made seemed endless. His respect for Markus had increased in the short time he’d been here.

  Realizing how intelligent and resourceful his brother had been made Lucas even more concerned about how Markus had become a victim of murder.

  But that was a problem to be resolved another day. Now he needed to visit with Moira and check in on the girls. He’d received several applicants for the governess position, but none seemed to have the skill set he thought was needed. If only he could stop comparing them to Moira.

  As he reached for the door, it opened.

  “Oh,” Moira stared up at him.

  Immediately he studied her aura, relieved as always to see the pale golden glow that assured him all was well. Her scrutiny made him feel a little defenseless. He still felt exposed and vulnerable after being ill. Lucas tried to gather himself but knew he didn’t fully succeed. Not with her. She still knew him far better than most.

  Her brow furrowed. “Is all well?”

  “Of course. And you?”

  She paused for a moment, those big green eyes drawing their own conclusion, one with which he didn’t think he’d be comfortable. “I came by yesterday, but Tiago said you were…otherwise occupied.”

  “What did you need?” He didn’t care to discuss yesterday. He only hoped to put it behind him. At least until the next bout came.

  She glanced over her shoulder where the girls sat at a table, drawing pictures, both concentrating on their designs. The tip of Amelia’s tongue was just visible in the corner of her mouth as she focused while Addie glared fiercely at her paper.

  “Two things, really.” Moira clasped her hands before her, surprising him with the gesture. Normally she only did that when she was nervous. What could she have to say that would make her nervous? “My father and I paid a call on Mr. Willers yesterday.”

  He searched his memory for the familiar name.

  “His cottage is in need of a new roof.”

  “I have not yet paid calls on the tenants, but I will be certain he receives assistance.”

  “He seems to be lacking food as well. His son moved to London, so there’s no one here to check on him anymore.”

  “I’ll have some meals sent along as well.”

  “Thank you. I know he will appreciate your kindness.” The set of her shoulders eased but didn’t relax completely. “I also wanted to know if you’ve made progress on your search for a governess.”

  “I believe you turned the task over to me. Trust that I will see to it.” Though he could hardly claim to have made headway on the task.

  She glanced at the girls yet again then stepped into the hall and pulled the door shut behind her. “Mrs. Tollers mentioned the trouble the girls caused in the library. The sooner you engage a qualified governess, the better. If the twins are kept busy, they will have less time to engage in such schemes.”

  Her comment felt more like a reprimand than a suggestion. Did she think he could be ordered about? Never mind that she’d done the very same when they were young, and it had irritated him then. But he was far from the boy she’d once directed and was a grown man fully capable of making his own decisions.

  He placed his hand on the wall behind her, bringing him closer. A little intimidation seemed in order, to make her understand he was not to be trifled with. “From what I’ve been given to understand, you’ve hired several governesses to do that very thing, but to no avail.”

  Her head tipped back ever so slightly, revealing the long slim line of her neck. Her mouth rounded, those rosy lips prepared with the perfect excuse, he was sure. Her big green eyes stared up at him, looking back and forth between his patch and his eye until he nearly touched the patch to see if it was in place. Then her gaze dropped to his lips, and desire shot straight through him, surprising him with its intensity.

  “Yes, well, ’tis complicated.” Again, her gaze fell to his lips.

  God, but he wanted to taste her. Could she possibly be as sweet as she had been at sixteen? Her kiss had nearly undone him then. What might it do to him now? Her scent filled his senses, the freshness of the outdoors, of roses, of her. That scent had taunted him far too often over the years. It reminded him of England, yet he swore he’d smelled it many times in Brazil.

  Her breasts rose as she drew a deep breath, making him realize she was as aware of him as he was of her. The hint of soft curves revealed by her modest neckline begged for his touch.

  For the first time, he noticed the soft pink of her gown, a color now echoed in her cheeks. Would that soft flush cover the rest of her body as well?

  “I—” She licked her lips, drawing his gaze back to her mouth.

  He leaned closer still and allowed desire to build. It had been so long since he’d felt like this. How had he ever turned his back on her declaration of love? He must’ve been a stronger man than he was now.

  As he tilted his head so he might fit her mouth to his, she eased forward as well. Anticipation mixed with passion until he saw nothing but Moira.

  The door opened, startling them both.

  “Aunt Moira? Oh, good day to you, Uncle Lucas.” Addie looked up at them, her drawing in her hand. Her gaze stayed on Lucas. “Did you come to tell us it’s time for us to clean your library?”

  “We’re terribly sorry we made such a mess.” Amelia came to her sister’s side. “I don’t know what we were thinking.” She shared a look with her twin.

  Lucas straightened, uncertai
n if he was grateful for their interruption or not. While he knew he had no business involving himself with Moira, nor could he seem to resist her. Where did that leave him?

  He glanced at Moira who appeared to have recovered from their encounter more quickly than he. Or perhaps she’d learned to better mask her emotions. This new version of the girl he’d once known was a mystery to him, one he knew he shouldn’t unravel, no matter how tempted he was.

  “Did you need help, Addie?” Moira asked.

  “How is this picture? Did I do it correctly?” She held up her paper, the image clearly recognizable to Lucas.

  He stared at his likeness, surprised and touched she had chosen him for her subject. The eye patch left no doubt. She’d drawn the manor as well, at least he thought it was the manor. He stood alone, to one side of the house. The girls and Moira were by the front door.

  Even in the picture she’d drawn, he was alone. She’d certainly gotten that part right.

  “Very nice, Addie. How is yours coming along, Amelia?” Moira asked.

  “Not as well as Addie’s. She’s much better than I.”

  “I’m sure it’s lovely. Shall we look?” Moira glanced at Lucas as she turned toward the girls’ room. “Thank you for seeing to Mr. Willers’ needs. He will greatly appreciate it.”

  They continued into the room while Lucas stood there, trying to understand some of the emotions rolling through him. It had been so long since he’d felt anything, it took a moment for him to process what it was. Longing—that feeling was clear, but as for the rest, he wasn’t quite certain.

  Trust Moira to force him to think and feel things he’d tried to avoid for years. With a sigh, he decided he’d better find Tiago and pay a visit to the village.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Moira walked across the meadow, enjoying the sensation of the autumn sun on her shoulders. The day was once again unseasonably mild, the blue sky above marred only by a few small puffs of clouds.