His Wicked Charm Page 22

  “The strong will of brotherhood.” He looked at Lilah. “Aunt Vesta said they called themselves the Brothers of something.”

  “The Brotherhood of the Blessed,” Lilah said.

  “Is that what she said?”

  “No. It’s right here.” Lilah had turned the page. She pointed to the first words written.

  “We are the Brotherhood of the Blessed, given the fortune granted to only the few who know the way.”

  “This is their agreement, the charter of their club,” Con said, excitement in his voice.

  Lilah skimmed her eyes down the page. “Actually, I think it’s their bible.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “OR, AT LEAST, a thesis on their spiritual beliefs,” Lilah clarified. She began to read.

  “Gods once walked upon this land, and men understood the pattern of life. Their names are long forgotten, both gods and men, but the truth of the world will always remain.

  “Like the spiral, we are never ending. Birth, life, death are but three phases of the same being. There are three realms: land, sea and sky. There are three Brothers. There are three aspects of our nature: mind, body and spirit.”

  “That explains the triskeles,” Lilah interjected.

  “To those who have opened the Gateway, as foreseen, the Goddess grants the further blessings of their natures.”

  “I presume your grandfather and his friends opened this ‘Gateway,’ whatever that is,” Con said. “But what does ‘the blessings of their natures’ mean?”

  “He called the mind, the body and the spirit the ‘three aspects of our nature.’ So I would think he means the blessings are of those three things. Maybe health for the body—everyone says that my grandfather was very ill when young and made a miraculous improvement. Maybe that is his blessing.”

  “Is he the only one who received a blessing? They’re a brotherhood, and he says ‘to those who have opened the Gateway.’ Wouldn’t each of them be blessed?”

  “Let’s say my grandfather got health, and I think obviously Mr. Blair would be the mind. He would want wisdom.”

  “Leaving Niles Dearborn for the spirit?” Con asked skeptically.

  “Hmm. Doesn’t seem likely. Let’s go on.” She turned the page. “Here. He calls the three natures head, heart and hand.” She continued to read.

  “The hand belongs to the material world and as such lies within the realm of the earth, whereas the sky is the ruler of the head, the intellect, and the heart, or spiritual, dwells within the sea. We, the Brothers, embody these realms.”

  “The old boy didn’t suffer from a lack of pride, did he?”

  “I’d say not. As best I can tell, he’s identifying himself as the spiritual aspect—yes, here he says he has long ‘suffered from an affliction of the spirit.’”

  “What was his illness?”

  “I’ve no idea. I never knew him. He died years before I was born.” She paused, thinking. “I can’t remember who told me about his illness. It was simply one of those family stories. But I had the impression it involved a weakness, a lack of stamina—maybe his heart or lungs.”

  “That would fit. Your grandfather, Sir Ambrose, received relief from his weakness of the heart or ‘affliction of the spirit.’ Mr. Blair took wisdom, and Dearborn got material things. Makes sense—at one time, Niles’s father made a great deal of money off some investments.”

  “Oh!” Lilah exclaimed, her eyes widening as she scanned the rest of the page. “Con, look. Here he says, ‘We are the Defenders of the Gateway. We are the Keepers of the Keys.’”

  “What!” Con leaned over to look at the words himself. “‘Keepers of the Keys.’” He looked up at her, his face only inches from hers. Lilah’s heart began to pound. Con pulled his eyes away and sat back.

  “But why do they want the key to this meeting place so badly? Surely they’re not kidnapping people because they want a blessing?”

  “If the Dearborns believe their ability to make money is tied to this place, they’d do anything to get in.”

  “It’s hard for me to imagine Mr. Dearborn actually believing in all this.”

  “I doubt he believes in this ‘three realms’ spiritual dogma. But gamblers believe in luck, and he’s a gambler. He wants his luck back.”

  Lilah nodded and went back to the book. She turned the page. “This just looks like a list of Latin words. Some have a word beside it like healing or war.”

  Con looked at the page. “I recognize some of these. They’re the deities of ancient Britain—though most of these are the romanized versions of their names. Sulis—the goddess of the healing spring at Bath. Latis. Cuda, the mother goddess. Belatucadros—that one really trips off the tongue, doesn’t it?”

  Lilah stared at him. “How do you know all this?”

  “You know my father is mad about anything Greek or Roman. He might not be interested in ancient Britain, much less the present one, but he was keen on the Roman rule in England. It was part of our studies. Contrary to what some believe, I did actually study now and then.” He tapped his finger on one of the words. “The Matres. That’s another triple concept. They were three goddesses, always pictured together.”

  “Like the three Fates. What were they goddesses of?”

  He shrugged. “They’re shown carrying fruit, so they probably have something to do with the harvest. Fertility. But they also seem to have some connection to death and the afterlife.” He laughed at Lilah’s amazed expression. “The Matres were described in that book I read the other night.”

  She contemplated the list of names. “Are these the gods he thinks once walked the land?”

  “I suppose. I would guess that this gateway must lead to the gods.”

  “My grandfather must have been quite mad. Ancient gods and gateways.”

  Con shrugged. “Maybe. But it also could have been just some silly thing three idle and bored young men came up with to pass the time. I think a number of the secret societies have religious or mystical themes. Things like that help with rituals. I suspect it’s the rituals they like, more than the religion.” He paused, then went on, “And if Sir Ambrose was insane, Sabrina’s and Peter’s grandfathers must have been, as well.”

  “I suppose that’s reassuring.”

  “What else is in there?” Con leaned in to turn the page. Their heads almost touched; their bodies were so close Lilah could feel his heat. “This supports the barrow idea.” Con pointed at the objects drawn on the next page. “That looks like a statue. A bowl. An earring. I’m fairly certain that is a torque.”

  “What do you think this statue is?” Lilah peered at the ink drawing.

  “A rotund and rather frightening woman. Is that a snake in her hand? But see, in her other arm, she’s carrying a basket or a bowl.”

  “It’s like the Matres you were talking about, though there’s only one instead of three.”

  Con nodded. “My guess is a fertility figure, though the snake usually has some connotation of death or the afterlife.”

  The next page was a listing of dates.

  “Records of their meetings,” Con suggested. “They start in June 1841. At first they’re irregular, then they become four each year.”

  Lilah paged through the book. “Look how many there are.”

  The next page was blank. Con turned back to the listings. “Look at these last couple of pages. The dates are haphazard again.”

  Lilah studied the entries. “This is around the time my grandfather died. My father took over, and he wouldn’t have been faithful in keeping the accounts.” She sighed and set the book aside, turning to Con. “What are we going to do? I feel as though we just discovered a great deal, but I can’t see that we’re any further along in finding the key. Or where it goes.”

  “I feel exceedingly odd saying this to you, but I think we must be patient.” Con t
ook her hand. “We do know a great deal more, and understanding what they were doing will help us. Your grandfather was much more involved in this than your father, so I think we should focus on him after we finish here.”

  “You’re right.” Con had not released her hand, but Lilah didn’t want to point that out. Reluctantly she said, “I suppose we should stop. It’s getting rather late.”

  Con gazed intently into her eyes, his thumb tracing her fingers. “Do you—would you like me to keep watch tonight?”

  “Keep watch? For wh—oh, you mean to catch me if I start roaming about in the middle of the night?”

  “Yes.”

  Lilah squeezed his hand, warmed by his concern. “That’s very good of you, but I have solved the problem. I shall lock my door and put the key away.”

  “Very well, but if you need me...”

  “I know.” Lilah’s chest was suddenly full and aching. For the first time she could remember, she wished that she was different. That she was a woman who didn’t worry or plan, who wasn’t skeptical and bound by convention. The sort of woman who could ignore the conventions and not think of the consequences. The sort of woman Con could care for.

  “Lilah...” Con stopped, his face troubled. “You aren’t... You wouldn’t seriously consider marrying that man, would you?”

  “Sir Jasper? I think that’s clear from the way I’ve been avoiding him.”

  “But I know your aunt Helena favors him, and you trust and rely on her. I thought she might persuade you. That you might give in because it’s ‘appropriate.’ I should hate to see you tied to someone like him.”

  “Would you?” Lilah held her breath. What was Con saying?

  “You deserve so much more. You should have a man who will treasure you.”

  The way you do not? But she did not say it. Con leaned closer.

  “Delilah!” They whirled around. Sir Jasper stood in the doorway, looking horrified. “What in the name of all that’s holy is going on?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  SIR JASPER PRESENTED such a comical figure, standing there in his brocade dressing gown, matching nightcap askew on his head and candlestick in hand, that Lilah struggled not to smile.

  “Lord Moreland! Explain yourself. What are you doing here with Delilah in the middle of the night? Not wearing a jacket! And sitting on the floor!”

  “At least I’m not wearing my nightclothes.” Con rose to his feet, a dangerous light in his eyes. “Why are you roaming about Miss Holcutt’s home, spying on her?”

  “Spying!” Jasper’s face turned scarlet. “How dare you, sir! I am Miss Holcutt’s only male relative, which gives me every right to question your conduct and motives.”

  “And here I would have sworn your motives were something other than familial.”

  “Con, stop.” Lilah turned toward the older man. “We were going through some of my grandfather’s things.”

  “At this hour?”

  “Yes, isn’t it amazing?” Aunt Vesta’s voice came from the inner staircase, making everyone jump. “Young people have so much energy.”

  They turned to see Vesta standing at the top of the stairs, a hand on her ample bosom as she caught her breath. Unsurprisingly, she was a startling vision in a bed robe of vivid purple embroidered with golden dragons. Her too-black hair streamed down her back. Not content with a single candlestick, she carried a candelabra with three tapers.

  “Good God.” Sir Jasper goggled at her. “Where the devil did you come from?”

  “Why, from the floor below, Jasper, where else? And, really, I’m surprised to hear you curse in the presence of ladies.”

  As Jasper fumbled for words, Lilah said, “Hello, Aunt Vesta.”

  “Mrs. LeClaire.” Con embellished his greeting with an extravagant bow, which made Vesta giggle.

  “Sorry to be running late,” Vesta said, adding in an aside to Jasper, “The children are helping me go through my father’s things. It is something of a task, as you can see.”

  “Good God,” Jasper said again, looking around him at the room for the first time. “What a bizarre place.”

  “Sir Ambrose was fond of clocks and compasses,” Aunt Vesta said in a vast understatement. “He said he always wanted to know when and where he was.”

  “Yes, I can see.”

  “I’m so sorry that we bothered you, Sir Jasper,” Lilah said.

  “I beg your pardon for awakening you,” Con added insincerely. “You must sleep very lightly indeed to have heard us from your bedchamber.”

  The other man replied stiffly, “I happened to be up and saw the light in this tower. I thought it best to investigate. It could have been robbers.”

  “Mmm. One never knows whom one might find creeping about the house,” Con said.

  Red flared along Sir Jasper’s cheekbones, and Lilah said hastily, “It was very thoughtful of you, Sir Jasper. We appreciate your concern very much. Don’t we, Aunt Vesta?”

  “What?” Aunt Vesta had wandered over to the pile of books on the floor. “Oh, yes, of course.”

  After a long, uncomfortable silence, Sir Jasper said, “Yes, well...um...then I shall bid you good-night and leave you to...your work.” His eyes flickered over the opened cabinet, the books piled on the floor and the objects Con had discarded on the desk.

  Turning on his heel, he left the room. The other three stood, listening to the ring of his retreating footsteps until they were gone. Lilah relaxed, letting out a sigh.

  “I must say,” Aunt Vesta offered. “It seems most peculiar that Sir Jasper is sneaking about the house in the dark.”

  “I think he hopes one day to be master here,” Con replied.

  “Is that why he’s here?” Aunt Vesta asked. “I wondered. I suppose Helena encouraged his suit. I can’t imagine why. He hasn’t the slightest interest in anything but the mundane.” She shrugged. “Of course, neither does Helena. Your mother was always so much livelier. No, no, dear, no need to fire up.” She waved a dismissive hand as Lilah frowned. “I know she is your beloved aunt.”

  Lilah heard the faint stress on the word beloved. She wondered if Vesta was jealous of Aunt Helena. Had Vesta really expected to pick up with Lilah where she left off, after all these years?

  “How did you know we were in trouble?” Con asked.

  “I actually did look out the window and saw the light. I knew it must be you. Then I heard Sir Jasper going down the stairs, so I followed and saw him disappearing into the old wing. Well, I guessed he must be coming here to investigate, so I cut across the courtyard. I thought I might beat him here, but, my! Those stairs!” She placed her hand over her heart dramatically. “I’m not the slip of a girl I used to be.”

  Con, as expected, gallantly protested her statement. “Those stairs would lay anyone low.”

  “Have you found anything?” Vesta asked, looking around.

  “A book,” Con told her. “Did your father never discuss his beliefs about the old gods and such?”

  “He may have.” She frowned in thought. “I remember him talking about old legends. King Arthur and Merlin. The Holy Grail. He used to speak very reverently about a goddess. Once he told me that this tor was sacred. He said we drew our life from it. He meant the channels of energy in the earth of course, but I didn’t realize that until later. He often spoke of the miracle of his cure.”

  “Do you know how that happened exactly?” Lilah asked. “What was wrong with him?”

  “He had a terrible, long-lasting fever when he was young, and the doctors told him it had damaged his heart. He had...attacks of some sort.”

  “Heart attacks?”

  “No, not his heart stopping. He said his heart would ‘go mad.’ Sometimes it skipped and other times it pounded so hard and fast, he feared it would explode. He didn’t say how he was cured. He would just say that he went ‘to the hea
rt of the tor,’ and it gave him back his heart. That was when he told me the tor was sacred and that our family’s life comes from it.” She looked at Con. “Do you think that’s where the key goes? To this place that’s ‘the heart of the tor’?”

  “I would think so,” Con agreed.

  “He never said anything specific about where it was located? Inside the house? On the grounds?” Lilah pressed.

  Vesta shook her head. “Not that I remember. I was still quite young when he died. He may have discussed such things with Virgil. But Virgil had just married your mother, so of course he was much more interested in love.”

  “Unfortunately, the book doesn’t say anything about where he might have hidden the key,” Lilah said, bending down to pick up her grandfather’s book.

  “We’ll start again tomorrow,” Con said with his usual confidence.

  Lilah nodded. “And I don’t intend to waste time trying to entertain Sir Jasper.”

  “Yes,” Aunt Vesta agreed. “It’s my opinion, dear, that if a man takes it upon himself to drop in on people, he can hardly complain about rudeness.”

  As they started toward the door, Con glanced at the book Lilah cradled in her arm. “You’re taking the book with you?”

  “Yes. I—” Lilah looked down at the volume. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt the need to keep it with her... Though she wasn’t about to admit that to either of these two. “I think that’s safest.”

  * * *

  THOUGH HER EYES were shadowed from lack of sleep, Lilah was brimming with enthusiasm as she went down to breakfast the next morning. She had locked the door the night before, which had prevented her from walking in her sleep, but her night had been restless. She had awakened several times, disoriented in the darkness, her heart pounding. Finally, she got up and spent the rest of the night poring over her grandfather’s book. She was eager to tell Con what she’d found.

  Unfortunately, Sir Jasper was seated at the table with Con, spoiling her plans. Lilah shot a glance at Con and sat down. Con drew up straighter, and his voice was tinged with question. “Lilah.”