Darkest Dreams Read online

  “I didn’t say,” he replied, his voice almost like a whisper. “The last trip my parents made together was to Egypt. My mother returned from the trip just before she gave birth to me and Sean. I asked my father one day when I was about seven years old why this room was kept as it was, untouched. Do you know what he said?”

  I shook my head, afraid of what was coming.

  “Upon returning from Egypt my mother gave strict instructions that no one was to touch her treasures. She’d unpack them herself just as soon as she had her son. These were my mother’s quarters. There’s an adjoining bedroom and nursery. He told me he was waiting for her to unpack the crates. I don’t think my father has ever been back to this room since she died.”

  Was the earl mad? So grieved that he’d lost touch with reality? Was there no part of the Killdarens’ lives that wasn’t touched by such sadness? “Are you going to forgive him?” I asked quietly, recalling what Alex had told his father last Friday.

  “No,” Alex said. “His insecurity and cowardice cost Mary her life. You should be outraged that he’d had important facts about Helen’s death deliberately kept quiet. Knowing what had been done to her could have changed things.”

  “What?” I asked, trying to play devil’s advocate, maybe because in some way by not telling what I’d read from Rebecca’s mind I was doing the same thing as the earl. “I’m not attempting to excuse or condone what your father did, but the doctor said he didn’t discover the mark on Lady Helen until a day or so after her death. You and Sean had already fought. So learning then wouldn’t have changed things. If you had known of the mark before, what would you have done different? Knowing now hasn’t led you to the killer’s door. How would knowing then have changed things?”

  “How could it not? I would have…”

  “What?”

  His hands fisted. “I would have searched harder for Helen’s killer.”

  “Why? Why does knowing about the symbol change things?”

  “You want the ugly truth?”

  I nodded and he turned away from me. I thought he wasn’t going to answer then, but after long moment, he spoke harshly.

  “Because I would have known without a shadow of a doubt that neither I nor Sean had killed her. As it was, we were both so grieved that we drank until neither of us could remember much about what we did between Helen’s rejection and Sean going over the cliff. Neither of us could swear upon our innocence. I’ve done nothing because there has always been a small doubt that either he or I had killed her.”

  I went to him, took hold of his shoulders, and pressed my cheek to his back. “I’m sorry,” I said. The dark cloud of emotions in him swirled stronger than ever, but I could see more than ever before; anger, pain, regret, passion and a deep need to turn around and pull me into his embrace, a need that was completely at odds with his self-imposed prison. I’d gotten too close, though.

  He pulled away from me then, stalking from the room, a man in pain and anguish, and part of my heart went with him.

  Chapter Twelve

  I left work early, deliberating about what to do next. How could I get past the barriers Alex had built? Looking down at the emerald-eyed serpent ring on my finger, I wondered what a woman named Aphrodite would do under such circumstances. And just as I saw myself in Kubla Kahn’s court with Marco Polo, I saw myself dressed in Grecian robes and draped with gold. I was a goddess, pampered and supreme. A woman whose appeal no man could resist. I very clearly saw Alex march into Aphrodite’s private rooms, his dark hair cut shorter, his pirate’s air hardened beneath the armored demeanor of a Greek warrior. His skin just as tanned against the stark white of his dress that molded tightly to the supple curve of his taut muscles. He was a man fearless in life and in battle, a man insatiable in passion, a man that Aphrodite had seen from afar and wanted as hers.

  “I am Alexander. You wished to see me?” Alexander said.

  “Yes,” Aphrodite said, rising from her cushioned divan to step into the full light of the sun pouring into the room. The golden light bathed her lush beauty to a dazzling brilliance, and she knew it. Alexander was indeed great, god-like. She watched his gaze slide down her body and saw the hunger in it rise. She noted the slight parting of his lips as if they were anticipating the taste of her. Arching her back so that her full breasts strained against the almost sheer fabric of her dress, she moved gracefully, pouring two cups of wine, and handed him a goblet. “I’m in need of a man.”

  He lifted a brow. “A warrior? A steward? An advisor?”

  “A lover.” She drew a long sip from her spiced wine, sliding her tongue over its lingering taste upon her lips.

  He arched a brow. “I’ve always admired directness in my men and my foes.”

  “Then should a woman be less than a man? Should you value her directness less?”

  He closed the gap between them and took the goblet of wine from her. She thought with a thrill that at last the man she’d wanted so long from afar would be hers at least for a night. Instead of setting down the wine, he handed her his goblet. Then he drank from hers, placing his mouth exactly where she’d placed hers. “You’re obviously not one of my loyal men. Question is, are you friend or foe?”

  Aphrodite smiled and drank from his goblet. “Neither. I am your lover.”

  He laughed. “I determine who my lovers are.”

  “Then I eagerly await your decision, Alexander,” Aphrodite said as she poured the wine she held down her dress. Then, loosening her belt, she slipped off her robes. Moving to the puddle of sunshine warming her large bed, she lay down. She cupped her breasts, lifting them as an offering of headily drenched fruit. “I hope I won’t have to wait too long. Wine dries rather quickly.”

  “Only when there isn’t enough,” he said, approaching the bed. He dribbled more on her from the goblet he held and followed the action with the heat of his tongue. A fire lit hotly in her loins and burned bright with every stroke of his tongue. She purred as the wine slid down to her navel. He drank from her there, not letting a drop escape. He pressed his palm against the fire of her sex, slipping his fingers intimately against her yearning flesh.

  Then he stood back and drained his goblet. Aphrodite rose to her elbows, her full breasts aching for more, her body yearning for the hard staff straining against his robe.

  “I’ll let you know when I decide,” he said. Then, turning, he walked for the door.

  Aphrodite didn’t even blink. She rolled from the bed and snatched up a sword. “Move another step and suffer the consequences.”

  He turned, undaunted by the sharp weapon. “And what would those be?”

  She laughed. “You’ll lose your dress and walk naked through the streets. You may lie to yourself about your desire for me, but I’ll not let you lie to the world.”

  “Then shall we duel?” he said, humor glinting his green eyes.

  “With what?” she asked.

  “Sword or tongue, lady’s choice.”

  “And for what shall we duel?” she asked

  “My choice. To be determined upon the end of the battle.

  Aphrodite tossed aside her sword. “I choose tongue.”

  “A shame,” he said, stripping off his robes. “My sword was all ready to play.”

  “Miss…Miss…can you hear me? We’re here.”

  I shook my head, removing my gaze from Aphrodite’s ring, and stared open-mouthed at the driver, who stood waiting to help me down from the buggy. Bits of information slowly filtered into my mind. No naked Alexander. No plush bed. No naked me.

  The driver waved wildly, but not at me. “Mrs. Murphy,” he shouted. “I think Miss Andrews is ill.”

  I scowled and straightened my shoulders. “I’m just fine, sir.” I set my hand in his and climbed down on shaky legs, seeing in his mind an image of him drinking in a pub, singing at the top of his lungs with friends who were even more off key than he. I was far from fine, but I wasn’t going to let anyone else know.

  Mrs. Murphy ran down the
steps with Bridget and Cassie on her heels.

  “Lass, what’s ailing you?” Mrs. Murphy asked, peering closely at me. I had no doubt that if Alex had kissed me today as he had before, she would have seen the evidence. As it was now, I greatly feared she could read my scandalous thoughts.

  “Andrie? What happened? Why have you returned so early? You look flushed.” Cassie set her palm on my forehead, making me thankful for the very first time in my life that I could read thoughts and not she.

  I drew a deep breath. “I’m fine, really. Just a number of things on my mind, and I lost track of time. It surprised me to find we’d already arrived.”

  “Still, you’re early.”

  “A—the viscount thinks that I’m working too hard,” I explained.

  Both Cassie and Bridget gave me an odd look, telling me I wasn’t going to get off that easily.

  Cassie waved her hand toward the bright blooms and sculpted shrubs sprawling from the graveled path. “Bridget and I were just about to take a stroll through the garden. Why don’t you come with us?”

  Knowing I’d not escape, I joined them. Considering the wild path my thoughts ran when I was alone, their company was a good thing for the moment. The gardens at Killdaren’s Castle were somewhat of an oddity. They were overshadowed on the left by Sean’s dark, gargoyle decorated observatory, and literally hedged in at the back by a large, dense maze, a teasing puzzle Sean’s mother had spent years planning and had built to please the earl, who at one time had thrived on puzzles.

  Now the maze was something Cassie and Sean considered having removed, a place of unpleasant memories for everyone except the earl. Lady Helen had met her death in the gazebo at the center of the maze. Jamie had snatched Cassie from the edge of the garden and dragged her into the maze and then down through tunnels that ran from the gazebo to the ground beneath the Circle of Stone Virgins, and amazingly to the cliffs at Dragon’s Cove. I would have liked to have seen them for myself, but they were closed off after Cassie’s rescue.

  No, what made Killdaren’s gardens unusual was the collection of statues reigning over its glorious dahlias, lush roses and daffodils—sweet, nectarous beauties that never failed to attract the prettiest butterflies and the fattest bumbling bees. Even the birds seemed to sing louder whenever amid the collection of gods and goddesses of many myths. From Poseidon to Zeus to Aphrodite and Venus, their creamy marbled nude images were larger than life…everywhere. It made for a rather interesting walk. Thankfully, today we went opposite Zeus’s direction.

  “Where’s Gemini?” I asked, hoping to divert the conversation from me.

  “Wrapped in a blanket in the drawing room playing checkers with Rebecca while Prudence is embroidering a chessboard, and Sean is asleep. Now let’s not waste time. Why are you back so early? Did something untoward happen with Alex?”

  “Good Heavens, no. He’s upset about his father keeping the symbol marking Lady Helen secret. He blames the earl for Mary’s death.” Then I bit my lip. What was it about older sisters that seemed to pop the truth out of you even if you didn’t want it to? I hadn’t planned to tell Cassie everything. She had enough to worry about. “He has been in contact with all of the authorities along the coast, searching to see if any other women have died under similar circumstances.”

  “So he’s of the same mind as we are? Jamie is innocent,” Cassie said. “Bridget and I came out here to discuss the matter. Sean insists that I wipe everything from my mind and fill it with plans for the babies. I can’t. What did Alex find out?”

  I knew the only way to get her to rest at all was if she thought someone else was taking care of the problem. “No other women who’ve died have been marked with a symbol.”

  “What else did Alex have to say, Andrie?” Cassie asked.

  “Not much. He did draw me a picture of the symbol that marked Mary and Lady Helen.”

  “Great day in the morning, Andromeda Andrews, why didn’t you say so first thing! What was it? Sean refused to show me.”

  “It’s in my bag in my cataloguing notebook. Which I left in the buggy.”

  “Come on.” Cassie grabbed my hand. “Let’s go get it.”

  “I’m with you two,” Bridget said, thankfully taking Cassie’s other hand. Stuart would most likely be around the stables, and I had enough sensual thoughts of my own to contend with. Cassie’s mind was totally focused on the mystery of Mary and Lady Helen’s deaths and thus safe for the moment.

  We dashed to the stables. My driver was still tending the horses he’d unhitched from the buggy, and I asked him about my notebook. He promptly retrieved it, and we hurried from the stable with Bridget lagging behind.

  “He might be in town,” Cassie said.

  “Most likely,” Bridget answered. “It’s not like I would have said anything to him if he was here, mind you. But it does get a girl’s dander up when he’s not even around so she can flaunt herself in front of him and make him regret what he’s missing.”

  I laughed. Not because what Bridget said was so funny, but because Bridget had just expressed very clearly what I’d experienced the whole week Alex had been gone. Even today I’d been miffed to learn he wasn’t at home. Stopping a few feet away from the stable, I dug my catalogue out of my bag and opened it up to Alex’s drawing.

  Cassie exhaled in disappointment as she peered down at it. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  Bridget squinted at the book. “The sun’s in my eyes. Let me hold the book.”

  I handed it to her, and she turned so that she could see it better. “I think there’s something like this at the Circle of the Stone Virgins,” she said.

  Cassie gasped and my pulsed skittered.

  Bridget hedged. “Now, I said I think there might be. I haven’t spent a lot of time looking around so I can’t swear, but…”

  “Let’s go look,” Cassie said. “It’s not more than five minutes away, up the trail behind the stables.”

  The pounding of approaching horse’s hooves gave us a fright. Bridget stuffed my notebook behind her back as we looked up to see Stuart almost upon us. He pulled the stallion to a halt and swiftly dismounted. “Ladies,” he said, nodding his head politely.

  “Hello,” we all said in various tones, none of them good.

  His dark gaze shot between each of our faces. “You want to tell me what is going on?”

  Bridget huffed. “Ye don’t want to talk to me when I’m a wanting to talk to you, Stuart Frye, so I’m not talking to you when you’re a wanting me to either. Come on, ladies. Let’s continue our walk.” Bridget then marched on past the stables, heading toward the trail that led to Dartmoor’s End.

  Cassie and I followed, barely resisting the urge to giggle, but once we were out of sight of the barn, Bridget burst into laughter. “Lawd. I may not like it much when he’s dishing it out, but I love it when a man gives me the ammunition to fire back at him when the shoe is on the other foot.”

  We laughed a bit then, when we reached the trail leading to the Circle of the Stone Virgin’s, I halted. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea. How do we know it’s safe?”

  “Andrie?” Cassie looked at me, flabbergasted. “You’re shying away from an archeological site that’s less than a few stones’ throws from the bed you sleep in? I’ve been there several times. In fact, you insisted on going there the moment you learned of it. You forced me to go, if I remember right. This isn’t like you. Do you know more than what you’ve told Bridget and me?”

  I did, but none of it had to do with the old stones at the Circle of the Stone Virgins. “It’s just that Mary’s body was found in a chamber under the site. And if Bridget thinks that there’s a carving at the site that might match what the killer did to her, I don’t think we should go there unarmed.”

  “Blimey, I’ve been traipsing through those stones since I could walk,” Bridget said. “Ya don’ think that he’s there, do you, Andrie?”

  “No.” It was ridiculous to think the murderer was sittin
g in the circle waiting for us. “Let’s hurry, though.” We started out at a brisk walk, then ran until we reached the carved stone pillars encircling the Druid god. A sense of something otherworldly hung about the clearing, as if the rules that bound earth and humans didn’t apply to the spirits who dwelt within the crudely carved stones. The seven virgins surrounding Daghdha had a benevolent feel to their curved smoothness, and stood in sharp contrast to the lewd figure of a naked-below-the-waist man with a large belly and even larger unmentionables. I could barely force myself to look at his ugliness or how he gripped the Uaithne, his magical carved harp—the frame of which was a naked woman bent unnaturally backwards.

  I suddenly wished we hadn’t come, and from the way Cassie and Bridget stood unmoving next to me I guessed they might feel the same way. The three of us were at the edge of the forest, staring cautiously at the circle.

  “Where do you think you saw the symbol?” Cassie asked. That she whispered so softly spoke volumes as to her own fear.

  “I’m not sure,” Bridget said.

  “We should go,” I said. “I don’t know why, but I have a bad feeling.”

  “It might just be that she has more sense than the rest of you,” Stuart Frye’s deep voice interrupted the quiet, making us all jump with fright.

  Bridget pressed a hand to her heart. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re a worried about me, Stuart, as you’ve nearly kilt me yourself. What are you a doing here?”

  Stuart moved from the trees to join us on the trail. “Finding out what you three are up to. I’d advise none of you to ever gamble over cards. You’re lousy liars. I’ll ask once more before I alert Sean. What are you three up to?”

  “Sean did not become God the day I married him, Stuart,” Cassie said, a frown creasing her brow.

  Stuart laughed. “I bet he felt like one though. Listen, I’m not your keeper, Cassie, and you know more than anyone that I’m inclined to let a woman make up her mind about what’s right for her, but—”