He had been heartily thankful for James Bankes’s timely entrance. He had suspected that the doctor and the headmistress were more than professional friends. Now, he was certain of it. The notion that Bankes had spent time with Sassy made him furious with sudden tension. What is that—jealousy, he asked himself.
Sassy’s green, innocent eyes took over his thoughts. Her magic was white. He had received a full bolt of it last night in her dreams, and he’d felt nothing dark about it. Passionate but not dark, and he admitted to himself that he wanted her with all his heart.
He had told her he hadn’t a heart to give, but he knew that was a lie—did she know it as well? Would she give up on him? Had his inability to trust anyone easily turned her feelings off?
Why had she followed the man from Tangiers earlier? What did she have to do with such as he? Why had she recognized Tom Wheeler? And she had—there could be no denying that. Just how much did she know?
He couldn’t think about that because his need to have her in his arms was taking over his entire body. He had a raging hard-on that spelled out one name, hers, over and over. He had not been out of control since his first heartbreak, but this … this was like nothing he had ever known!
The words I love you demanded release, and yet, he had not said them. He knew she needed to hear them, and still he could not say them. Perhaps … later, when all this was behind him and he could go to her clean?
You will lose her, or worse … she will turn to the doctor. A voice nagged at him repeatedly, telling him to be honest with her, but he had to keep her out of all the ugliness that was sure to follow him now.
She was far too worthy for the libertine that he had become!
* * *
Sweet pain! Sassy had read this in poems and never understood its meaning. How could pain ever be sweet? After his kisses, after being with him, she understood all too well what it meant. Everything about what she felt for him was so beautiful it could be called sweet—and everything about the stretch of problems between them was definitely painful.
She had scurried up the stairs and to her room. As she began undressing, a knock sounded. She went to the door and opened it a crack to find Molly there.
“Hello, dear. I was just going to change.”
“I know. I saw the mud when ye rushed up the stairs,” Molly said with pursed lips. “You should have come straightaway to me, Miss Winthrop. Here, let me help ye.” She took up the muddied cloak. “I know jest how to clean this up like new, I do, and I’ll fix up yer gown as well.”
“Molly, what would I do without you? But you have so much already to do. I can’t give you more.”
“Aye, ye can, being who ye are, Miss, and how thankful I am for what ye do for me,” Molly answered, lowering her eyes.
Sassy hugged her. “You don’t have to do this. I can wash the mud out.”
“Not with anyone none the wiser. But I can and I will, and, Miss, I’ve been noticing things. Told m’dad about it, and he says not to get involved cuz we need our jobs here. So, I try to look the other way when I can, but this much I know—don’t go walking when it gets dark. The headmistress means ye harm. I heard her talking with a man in town. She didn’t know I was nearby, but I was, picking up supplies for m’mum. I couldn’t quite make out what she said, but she mentioned ye she did, and I didn’t like the sound of it. I told m’dad, and he said to tell ye to have eyes in the back of yer head.”
“Thank you, Molly. You are the one true friend I have had since I got here. Thank you,” Sassy said and allowed the girl to take her clothes before she turned to the basin of cold water and washed her face.
Things were getting complicated, and the evil her magic sensed around her was closing in. She could feel it. Molly was correct: the headmistress was planning something—but what?
~ Twenty-two ~
THE MARQUIS HANDED Mr. Lutterel a glass of brandy and took up a seat facing him. He reclined on the cushioned chair, stretched out his long legs, and sighed heavily.
After Percy downed his glass, he looked over his friend and exclaimed, “Women!”
The marquis had been drinking deeply since he had returned from Netherby, but he raised his brow and eyed his friend. “Undoubtedly a profound thought has forced such an utterance from your lips, my friend. But tell me why? Does not your love life move ahead, er, lovingly?”
“Yes, it does, but, Justin, look at you! For that matter, look at me, ruled by a woman, and your mood evidently created by a woman. I am sure of it.”
“Tread warily, Percy. You may be my dearest and closest, but there are some matters that are over the line.” He shrugged. “Besides, I have not said that I am involved with a woman.”
“The devil you aren’t. You may not say it, but I know you, and I have known for awhile now that you are madly in love with Miss Winthrop. Good choice, by the way, not that any of us ever has a choice.” He shook his head of flaxen hair and pointed at his friend. “But you have made a botch of it.”
“Have I?” returned the marquis, not bothering to deny anything. “Do but enlighten me.”
“Hang it, Justin, don’t pucker up at me. I haven’t the devil of a notion what you have done wrong. You ain’t been talkative, so how should I know how you have muddled things up?”
“Go to the devil!” the marquis said amiably.
“I probably shall.” Percy replied and grinned broadly.