The Midnight Hour: All-Hallows’ Brides Read online

  Was he blinded by his attraction to her?

  Had Gideon felt the same, and she’d killed him?

  “No,” he muttered, wanting to trust her despite all the reasons he should not. How could she have been the one to steal into his room at the inn and plunge the dagger into his pillows? Would he not have caught the scent of lavender—her scent—in the air?

  She laughed merrily in confusion. “Did you just say it was not a lovely day, my lord?”

  She glanced up at the blue sky and white puffs of clouds that dotted it. The sun shone down in all its splendor, causing the waters below them to sparkle like glitter. The breeze was warm and gentle.

  He grinned sheepishly. “It is lovely. I was just remembering something I had forgotten to do. I’m sure my coach driver will take care of it. Nothing important.” It was a vague enough lie.

  She nodded and looked out toward the sea, seeming not at all surprised to find him alive. Nor did she appear to be angry or worried that he might become suspicious of her after the failed attempt.

  What he saw in the soft gray of this girl’s eyes was…well, it was something he could not easily describe. She was happy to see him, but it was more than that. If he were a coxcomb, he’d say the girl was more than a little infatuated with him.

  Hell.

  Had he lain with her all those years ago?

  Had he made promises to her that he had no intention to fulfill?

  It wasn’t in his nature to lure a woman into his bed with lies and false promises. Perhaps his nature had been different back then.

  He didn’t like to think so.

  Would this fog on his memory never lift?

  “Shall we walk to the ruins?” he asked, his frustration mounting along with the desire to take this girl into his arms and kiss her endlessly.

  What had Aislin meant to him in the past? Something pure and beautiful, it had to be. She looked at him with such joy, such innocence.

  He had not bedded Aislin.

  He was certain of it.

  But he sorely ached to do so now. More to his shame or his stupidity, if she had been the one to stab his pillows.

  “Yes, my lord. Let’s walk over there. We’ll be safer behind the castle walls. Anyone can see us standing out here in the open.”

  “May I take your arm as we walk?” He did not know why he could not rid himself of this compelling need to touch her.

  He knew she was real and no illusion.

  She appeared surprised, but pleased. “Yes, of course you may.”

  He held out his arm, enjoying the light touch of her hand as she rested it on his forearm.

  “I cannot stay long today, my lord.” She nibbled her lower lip. “My father wants me home early.”

  He forced his gaze from her lips. “Why? Is something going on that I should know about?”

  She paused at the bottom of the steps. “It is something your brother should be told about. But I don’t know where he is or how to get word to him.” She cast him an imploring look. “It is urgent that I see him.”

  Two visitors passed them on their way to the castle, startling Aislin. Her gaze darted to them, but after a moment, she released her breath, and seemed more at ease.

  “I was hoping he’d turn up today,” she said with a shake of her head. “I don’t like that he’s late. Every day he fails to turn up increases my fear that something has happened to him.”

  William was also worried.

  His first concern was for his brother, that Aislin was right, and he’d been hurt or killed. But he also had another concern. Aislin had told him Gideon was alive and had gone to Plymouth for the militia, but what if it was an utter fabrication? If Gideon had done so, then why hadn’t anyone in Plymouth recalled seeing him?

  Not that she was purposely lying to him. He trusted his instincts and sensed this girl believed what she was saying. However, what if she was lying to herself? Although she appeared rational, how would he know if she wasn’t?

  She might have seen Gideon die.

  She might have been the one to stab him and then been unable to reconcile herself to what she had done. If that were so, it would not be so farfetched for her to believe Gideon was still alive when he wasn’t.

  Or steal into his room last night and attempt to stab him.

  And not remember anything of it today.

  Bah! If she were mad, wouldn’t he be able to tell?

  “My lord, if he doesn’t appear before I leave, will you wait for him? I have news he must be given.”

  “That depends.”

  His response surprised her. “Depends on what?”

  “On what you tell me.”

  She shook her head, at first not understanding what he meant. Then her eyes clouded, and she frowned at him. “You don’t trust me. You think I intend to betray your brother.”

  He ran a hand roughly through his hair. “In truth, I don’t know what to think.”

  She already had her hand on his arm, for he’d placed it there, but her grip now tightened. “Think what you will of me, it isn’t important right now. What matters is that you get this message to your brother. There is a merchant ship known as The Evening Star sailing out of Port Isaac at the turn of the tide tomorrow.”

  “The Earl of Exmoor’s new ship? How did it come to be here?”

  Her eyes rounded. “You know of it? Of him?”

  He cast her a wry smile. “I’m quite familiar with all the Brayden family. We are connected by marriage. My sister is now married to Exmoor’s cousin.” How small the world had shrunk. His sister Abby had married Tynan Brayden, Earl of Westcliff. And Westcliff was first cousin to James Brayden, Earl of Exmoor.

  He had other connections to that family from his days as a pirate himself, from those years he only knew of himself as Lucifer and sailed on The Persephone under its captain, Hugh Le Brecque. Perhaps he would tell Aislin of his adventures one day or show her the burns that had scarred his skin for life, but he did not know what the future held for them.

  The question weighing upon his heart was, what to do about Aislin?

  He’d come for answers to reclaim his lost years.

  Once his memory returned, what then? Could he bid Aislin farewell and leave her behind? Could he trust her? Was she in possession of her wits? “What is The Evening Star doing here? It should have sailed out of Plymouth.”

  “A sudden squall a few days ago. It happens often enough along the St. George’s Channel and the Irish Sea. It is a common trade route. Plymouth to Dublin or Drogheda, and then back down to the Continent or across the Atlantic.”

  “I know.” His ships took those routes.

  “But these squalls are dangerous,” she said, sounding quite sensible as she spoke, “so any captain with experience will sail his vessel into the closest harbor he can find. Pembroke’s harbor in Wales is fairly busy and much safer since the Duke of Pembroke himself watches over the town.”

  “And what happens here?”

  “Port Isaac’s harbor is not safe. There’s no one on hand to protect the ships that sail in and out. The Prince Regent has not seen fit to replace all the corrupt officials who run the port. He thinks assigning naval frigates and other ships of the line to patrol these shores is sufficient. But we know it isn’t.”

  He didn’t know a damn thing about Port Isaac, only that he’d apparently sailed into it seeking shelter from a storm and been attacked by pirates who’d destroyed his ship and left his crew, as well as himself, for dead once he’d sailed out of it.

  Aislin knew who those pirates were.

  Perhaps the same ones who intended to attack Exmoor’s ship.

  If there was any good to come out of this conversation, it was his renewed faith in Aislin. Her warning had not sounded like the deluded ravings of a madwoman. It eased his soul, for he wanted to trust her and believe in her. He also wanted to consider the possibility of something more between them. “Aislin, what else do you know that you’re not telling me?”

  “
No, this is enough for today.” She did not appear angry, nor did he sense she was trying to fool him.

  “Why? What secrets are so important that you must keep them from me?”

  “Secrets?” She gave a wry laugh. “My heart is an open wound because of you.”

  He gripped her shoulders and stared at her for a long moment. “What did I do to you back then? Did I hurt you? How?”

  “You didn’t hurt me.” Her voice was whisper-soft and loving. “Not in the way you mean.”

  “Not in the way… Then how?” His hands were still on her shoulders.

  Up close, she appeared so young and innocent. She was scared, but not of him.

  No, she did not fear him.

  He knew women.

  He knew that look.

  Was it possible she loved him?

  Merciful heaven! What had he done to her?

  Chapter Six

  “Come, my lord. Don’t frown at me when we have so little time together. Put aside your questions for now, and let’s enjoy this lovely day.” Aislin left his side and started up the steps to the castle ruins. “We can sit overlooking the water and chat. I’ve brought us some food to share. It isn’t much. I couldn’t risk taking more. It would have been noticed.”

  “Thus putting you in danger?”

  She shook her head. “No, it would have put you in danger.”

  This slender girl still thought to protect him? He studied her as they walked in silence through the ruins. She wore sturdy walking boots and a gown of pale gray muslin that matched the color of her eyes. The silk trim on her gown and the soft leather of her boots were the only signs of wealth. Of course, she spoke and carried herself like a lady.

  But she had no chaperone.

  She roamed as wild and free as the ponies on Bodmin Moor.

  Her dark hair was unbound, just as it had been yesterday and in his dreams.

  The light wind ruffled her hair and caused the long, silky strands to curl around her hips.

  He wanted to bury his hands in those dark locks and run his fingers through them. He wanted to bury himself inside her, but he held that longing on a tight tether. How many other men felt the same about her?

  Despite her innocence, there was an unmistakable sensuality about Aislin. In the shape of her mouth, the swell of her bosom, and the expressiveness of her eyes beneath their sooty lashes.

  He settled on a patch of grass and propped his back against a low wall of stones. He sat looking out toward the sea, his arms casually resting on his bent knees, but on the inside, he was roiling with tension.

  Aislin settled beside him, close enough for him to breathe in the subtle temptation of her lavender scent.

  She fixed her gaze across the water, seemingly unaware of his turmoil. “I’ve been coming here for years. It’s such a beautiful place. I often allow my dreams to take flight when I’m out here.” She turned to him, a light blush on her cheeks. “There’s magic in the air. In the stones. In the caves below. In the cliffs and sea. Whenever I’m here, I forget who I am.”

  “Aislin,” he said, regretting he was about to break up their idyllic moment, “someone tried to kill me last night.”

  She gasped and turned to him. “William, no!” In the next moment, she realized what she’d called him and blushed furiously. “Forgive me, my lord. I shouldn’t have called you that. I have no right. I… Did you get a glimpse of your assailant? Describe him to me.”

  “I didn’t see him. I happened to be out of my room when this devil crept in. He stood over my bed, thinking he was stabbing me as I slept. But he mistook the bulge of my pillows for my body.”

  She gaped at him, seeming unable to speak or breathe.

  “I had tucked them under my covers to make it appear I was in bed. But I had slipped out of the inn to explore the town. I never expected someone to enter my bedchamber intending to cut short my life.”

  The breath rushed out of her in a sob, and she buried her face in her hands. “Not even a day. It’s happening again. Thank goodness you weren’t there. Thank goodness he didn’t hurt you. I’d never forgive myself if he had.”

  She was shaking and appeared so fragile in that moment, he was afraid she’d snap like a twig. He drew her into his arms to comfort her. “Aislin, I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.”

  What was wrong with him? She’d taken his words like a punch to the stomach, and he’d purposely blurted them in the hope of getting an unguarded response from her.

  Well, he’d succeeded.

  Until this very moment, she’d impressed him as having a spirit forged of steel, strong and resilient. A spirit that could never be broken.

  He’d gotten it all wrong. She was hurting so badly, the pain was eating her insides. How had he missed this? She’d even mentioned it clearly, claiming her heart was an open wound. Only he hadn’t been listening properly and had dismissed her comment.

  More to his regret, he’d been prepared to dismiss her as a madwoman when quite the opposite was true. She was risking her life to help Gideon and was now trying to protect him.

  She tried to draw away, but he wouldn’t let her. “Forgive me. I’m a fool. I shouldn’t have dropped the news on you like that. And you may call me William. I give you permission.” It seemed a foolish thing to say. Someone tried to kill me, but call me William if it makes you feel better.

  “William,” she repeated with a bitter laugh. “They won’t stop trying until they succeed. Please, you must go. Now.”

  “Not before I have my answers.”

  She resisted the tug of his arms, pushing against him when he held her back. Finally, she stopped struggling.

  He took it as permission to begin questioning her. “Aislin, who else are you protecting? Other than me and Gideon?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “You won’t tell me. That is not at all the same thing. Don’t you realize? Your silence puts us all in greater danger. Who are you protecting?”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “If I tell you, then you must promise not to go after them. They will kill you.”

  “Who is they? I want names, Aislin. Tell me everything. It is the only way to keep us alive.” She’d said it was happening again. Those were her exact words. What did she mean by it?

  “My lord–”

  “William. I gave you permission to call me that.”

  She grunted in obvious irritation and shook her head. “William, then. I must ask a favor of you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Please kiss me again.” The request came in a whisper. “One kiss and I’ll tell you all of it afterward.”

  It seemed a small sacrifice to make in order to obtain the truth, but he sensed it meant so much more.

  What was she about to tell him that would create a chasm wide enough to tear them apart forever?

  He tipped her chin up so that she met his gaze. He found himself looking into the saddest eyes he’d ever beheld.

  Lord, he couldn’t bear it. “Close your eyes, Aislin.”

  She obeyed.

  Her lips were trembling, those beautiful lips the color of pink roses.

  He closed his eyes and pressed his mouth to hers, bracing himself for the jolt he knew would rush through him the moment their lips touched. Even so, he was unprepared for the impact to his heart.

  “Aislin,” he murmured, swallowing her in his embrace. He wanted to take all of her in, build a wall around them that no villains could ever surmount.

  But this was truly fantasy.

  The villains had already broken in and tried to kill him.

  He didn’t care for himself, but what of Aislin? What would they do to her?

  Her mouth was soft and pliant. She offered no resistance when he deepened the kiss, seeming to crave it as much as he craved her. Nor did she draw back when he slid his tongue inside her mouth to tease and tangle it with hers, for there was nothing tame about his feelings for her.

  He had not lived the life of a monk. He was no stranger to the p
hysical pleasures of a woman’s body. But holding Aislin. Kissing her. Breathing in her scent. The sensations she aroused were beyond anything he’d ever felt before.

  He ran his fingers through her unbound hair. It was lush and long and spun from dark silk.

  Her skin, he noted as his lips moved along the slender curve of her neck, tasted of sea salt and lavender. If this was to be their last day together, he was going to take as much from her as she was willing to give.

  They were alone now, no travelers wandering around to interrupt their pleasure. No carriages or horses other than theirs grazing on the nearby gorse and hedgerows. Nothing surrounding them but sky and ruins and the eternal sea. He eased her down on the grass and rolled her under him, settling his body over hers. “Aislin…”

  She did not seem to mind the brazenness of their position, him atop her. She tugged on his shoulders to draw him down. He felt the soft give of her breasts against his chest.

  He wanted to claim her.

  She would let him.

  What then?

  He was not in the habit of despoiling innocents, he reminded himself.

  “Damnation. I’m sorry.” He sat up suddenly and shook his head to clear away the thoughts he should not be having…or acting upon with this girl.

  It took her a moment to open her eyes, but she cast him a wry smile when she saw him obviously struggling with himself. “I am almost two and twenty. Old enough to know my own mind.”

  Her willingness gave him no relief. “You are unmarried.”

  She laughed and sat up beside him. “Nor do I care if I ever marry. There is no one for me in Port Isaac or any other Cornwall town. Surely, you must know…it cannot be a surprise to you.” She looked away to hide her embarrassment. “There is only you.”

  Were he a knave, he’d take full advantage.

  “William, I love you.”

  The words hung in the air between them, thick and silent.

  “Aislin…”

  She laughed softly. “You do not need to respond. I didn’t expect you to.”

  His heart pounded.

  She was willing, and she loved him.

  All the more reason he would not touch her outside of marriage. Marriage. Is this what he had come back here for, to take her as his wife?