“You should have talked to me about your desire to return to Scotland,” Cyrus continued. “It is a dangerous undertaking. Your heritage could so easily bring you to justice without me there to guard you....” His pause was deliberate, to make her afraid and keep her that way. “But I would have conceded, if it kept you content.”
She was valuable to him. The lengths he had gone to in order to recapture her had proved that. During the hours since she had been reunited with her master, she’d forced herself to believe that he was humoring her, allowing her to spend time in Scotland before returning to London with her in tow. Nevertheless, Maisie could barely stomach the thought of spending a full day with him while they talked about hunting for her kin, kin that he had lied to her about. She’d acted repentant in order to be sure Roderick and his men had the best chance of escape, but she knew in her heart she couldn’t maintain that for much longer. All she wanted to do was vanish before his eyes. Soon, she would do just that. Steal away and find her way north.
The cautious approach would have been to apologize and sweeten him. Maisie didn’t feel like being cautious. She pushed the food away. “I have often mentioned it.”
“You didn’t, however, mention your intention to pursue it alone, to put yourself at risk in the hands of lawless men.”
What could she say? Cyrus would never be able to think of her in the same way again, and yet he seemed fixed on keeping her. When she looked deep into his eyes, she knew that he still wanted her, still pretended to love her. The dark bitterness she saw there chilled her. He meant to make her suffer for her transgression. Punishment would be ongoing.
She would turn her magic on him and pacify him. She would have to when she tried to leave him again. But right then she had a need for the truth to be unveiled. There was nothing else for it; she would have to voice her feelings
on the matter. “Cyrus, I am grateful to you, but as a guardian. I cannot be your lover.”
The tension in the room thickened, sapping the space of air.
The look in his eyes turned darker still, his temper growing.
“You will warm to the idea, given time.” He attempted to smile at her. Given his black mood, it only made him look more sinister.
Maisie knotted her fingers together in her lap, determined to press on. She shook her head. “Cyrus, it can never be. Even if the nature of my affection for you altered, I cannot forget the things you’ve done. You have molded me and used me to further your own cause, and that has become more apparent to me over the years.” She dared not mention him poisoning Mama Beth.
“I have protected you and nurtured your craft!” His eyes were bright with fury.
Maisie felt it, and wondered if he’d blinded himself to the dark nature of his deeds, believing his actions to be just and deserved. She couldn’t let him think that, had to show him the error of his ways or he would never change. “What about Gilbert Ridley and the courtesan who ruined his life? It was the very same woman I enamored him with. It was the love spell you encouraged me to do when I was still a child, wasn’t it?”
Cyrus looked astonished.
Did he think she would forget? “Don’t be surprised. You’ve educated me well and you tamed my fey ways. I’ve grown into a more observant woman than I might otherwise have been. How could I not notice things about you, the man closest to me, my master and my keeper? Did you really think I wouldn’t question your motives, once I was old enough to address them?”
Cyrus had paled, as if his fury had been dampened by the truth. “Gilbert Ridley had wronged me in the past. He deserved what he got.”
“But you cannot play with people’s lives that way, Cyrus. Just because someone has wronged us doesn’t give us the right to destroy them.”
He frowned heavily. His movements were erratic, his eyes flashing as he tried to address her comments. “You don’t know the extent of it. He humiliated me amongst my peers.”
“But you knew that my magic, my heritage, was to be used for good. You twisted me into something I shouldn’t be. I would never have done those things if you hadn’t duped me.”
“You were eager to explore your magic.” His voice had grown quiet, and his desperate tone revealed that his argument was crumbling.
“And you took advantage of that. I could never stay with a man who did such things.”
He buckled visibly, his elbows on the table, his head in his hands. “Margaret, please. We can discuss these matters together, when you are my wife.”
Maisie was incredulous. The burning question that remained in her mind was something she would have to know or forever be haunted by it. “Cyrus, did you poison Beth?”
His head shot up and he looked at her with astonishment. His eyes shifted left and right, and she wondered whether she would even be able to tell if he was giving her the truth. She wouldn’t rest until she knew.
“Who told you that?”
“Did you poison her or not?”
“Pray tell me what made you think such a thing?”
Still he avoided her question. “You were observed putting something in her broth.”
Lips pressed together determinedly, he glared at her. When he eventually did speak, it was through gritted teeth. “It was a tincture of mandrake root to aid her rest even while she was in pain.”
“Mandrake?” Maisie was aghast. Mandrake was exceedingly dangerous in large doses. Nor was he a true healer, one such as she, who had come from a long line of gifted Highlanders.