The Libertine (Taskill Witches 2)

Maura whimpered, but when he sent a warning glance her way she nodded.

“Witchcraft it is,” he stated, perversely delighted to see some evidence that his long held suspicions were well-founded, “and I will oust the lot of you. I’ll march each and every one of you to the gallows myself.”

The girl’s eyes flashed open, and for one moment he thought looking into her eyes alone would be enough to ensorcel a man. Yet he found he was compelled to stare into those eyes, eyes dark with fury and yet so sure, so knowing as she looked upon him. “Dear lord,” he muttered, “you are the Devil’s own handmaid.”

He’d intended to toy with her awhile, but something about those eyes made him think that the quicker he got rid of her, the better. For a moment he was tempted to put an end to her there and then, but that was not the way. “Think on this, witch. I could take you into the bailiff now, for Maura and I have both seen your eyes turn and we’ve heard your despicable satanic words as you call on your dark lord, but sending you to your death is not enough for me. I will bring down the lot of you.”

The girl swayed and her hair flew up around her head, her trapped voice hissing curses as she struggled against the hand around her throat. As she did, he saw her grip on the letter loosening.

Snatching it from her hand, he thrust her aside. “Count your blessings I did not break your neck. Now get off my land, away back to your lair. Enjoy it while you

can because you will soon breathe your last, the lot of you.”

Once she was let free her appearance returned to normal.

Tamhas despised that most of all, for it was pure trickery.

The woman did not, however, run.

Instead she stood still and proud. She stared down at the letter as if she were thinking of working her magic on it, but then her hand went to her throat where the imprint of his fingers was visible on her pale skin—just as the mark of the hangman’s rope would also be, and soon.

“I pity you,” she whispered. “Filled with hatred as you are, you will never be a happy man.” Then she turned her back on him and walked away.

Tamhas stared at her back as she retreated. He had expected an attempt to slap him or spit in his face. Yet her final words had been unnerving due to their calmness.

Gathering himself, he glanced down at the crumpled letter in his hand, and he quickly forgot the messenger when he saw that it was addressed to his cousin Chloris.

Frowning, he turned the letter over, broke the seal and opened it.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Chloris had been attempting to read a book in order to rest her mind. She sat in the drawing room and her book lay open in her hand, but her thoughts were far away. Tomorrow she must give Lennox her answer. As she pictured him, her heart fluttered in her chest like a bird taking flight. Is that what I am, a bird taking flight?

Her thoughts were confused and contradictory. It was only the occasional mite of good sense that pulled her back from the wild notion of running away to join him, of following him wherever he led. Or so she told herself. Was it honestly good sense to stay in the life that she knew because of vows that had been meaningless to her husband the day he spoke them? But they weren’t meaningless to me.

One thing she knew with absolute certainty was that if she didn’t go to Lennox she would always wonder about what might have been. It was no easy place to sit, betwixt doubt and the sure knowledge of eternal regret. These dark thoughts were shot through with instinctive hope, and with the yearning she felt to be with him. Would it not be better to know happiness with him for a short while, than never at all?

Chloris did not believe he could be faithful to one woman—even though he had begged her to believe it—not after the life he had led. All of it filled her with uncertainty. She barely knew the man. And yet I know I love him.

The door sprang open.

Chloris’s book fell to her lap. Seeing Tamhas at the door, she rose to her feet, closing her book and laying it aside.

Tamhas walked into the room slowly and then paused and scrutinized her.

Heat rushed to her face. It was as if he knew the matter she had been contemplating. She urged the thought away, blaming the odd notion on her state of indecision. “Cousin?”

“I have a letter for you.” He gestured with a sheet of folded parchment, flicking it in his hand. Then he sauntered over, slowly, never once taking his eyes off her.

“Oh. Thank you for bringing it to me. That was not necessary.” She frowned. Was it from Gavin? He had not written to her at all, but then she didn’t expect him to. Moreover, something in Tamhas’s stance and the way he regarded her so closely made her uneasy.

“Ah, but it is necessary, for I am eager to share it with you.” He held out the folded page.

Chloris took it.

The handwriting was not familiar. She turned it over to break the wax seal. Her mouth went dry when she realized that had already been done. Tamhas had read it. Discomfort filled her, but why? Urging herself not to pause nor meet his gaze, she opened it and read.

Mistress Chloris.