Read Online Belmary House Book One by Cassidy Cayman - Free Book Online
Authors: Cassidy Cayman
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dropping it when he turned his dark stare back on her. “I have a ton of questions. You can’t just leave me here.” He made what looked to be a supreme effort to be patient, and her anger, which she’d managed to tamp down in order to make the best of things, rose up again. “I mean, what in the hell happened? Why am I even here?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched and he narrowed his eyes at her. “I mistook you for Miss Saito,” he said. “Terribly unfortunate and I do apologize.”
She ignored the fact that he didn’t seem sorry at all. “No, I mean, how did it happen? You don’t act like it’s anything surprising, so that means you must do it all the time. So, how do you do it?”
He took her arm, led her to the nearest chair and pushed her gently into it. He crouched down in front of her, eyes troubled, and waved his arm around.
“It’s a curse,” he said. “A spell. In a word, it’s witchcraft. It’s a long story I will definitely explain to you further when I have more time, but I must get ready for the event tonight.”
He rose, but she clamped both her hands onto his wrist, almost pulling him into her lap.
“I’m lost in a different century because of you,” she said, feeling the tears she’d been holding in for the last couple of hours about to flow. “And now I’m a pathetic widowed career mistress. How can you just drop something like a witch’s spell on me and then go off to some ball? Don’t you have a single feeling?” She stared hard at him, willing the tears not to fall, almost biting through her lip to keep from sobbing.
He closed his eyes and dropped his chin, the same look of pain she’d momentarily glimpsed when they first arrived. “There’s someone I have to meet. He has information for me about— At any rate, he’s impatient to be on his way to his country home. It’s not something I can get in a letter. I must speak to him tonight or ride all the way to Scotland.”
Before she could ask anything else, Duncan entered the room, not even blinking at seeing Lord Ashford kneeling before her as she clutched at him. She dropped his hand and leaned back in the chair.
“Ah, good, I’ve found you. Miss Jacobs, there’s a meal waiting for you, if you’re hungry. Cook’s stew is the best in London, and there’s apple tart as well.”
Ashford nodded seriously, standing up. “Her stew is unparalleled,” he agreed.
Tilly was hungry, but more importantly, she was eaten up with curiosity. How could Ashford not manage to answer her questions? He’d replied, but she was more confused than ever. And witchcraft? If she hadn’t already got used to the idea of having been swept to 1814, the mention of witchcraft would have sent her over the deep end. As it was, all she wanted was more information. Information. She ignored Duncan and grabbed Ashford’s arm again.
“Information about what? You said you had to talk to someone tonight. About what?”
The two men exchanged a look, and Duncan hurried forward, probably to hustle her away from asking anymore questions. Surprisingly, Ashford stopped him with a flick of his free hand, then turned to look down at her.
“My sister,” he said. “She’s gone missing. I need to find out what’s happened to her.”
Well, she hadn’t expected that, nor the look on his face. If she’d thought he’d looked distressed before, now he looked downright anguished. She moved a step closer, feeling like a jerk for only thinking of herself when he clearly had something far bigger than her problem going on. She’d only thought he was going to have a wonderful time, forgetting about her completely. His sister, his twin, was missing. No wonder he was so agitated.
She had to stay strong, and not feel like any of this was her fault, no matter how badly she wanted to comfort him. Because she desperately wanted to comfort him somehow, anyone would, he looked so tormented.
She tightened her grip on his sleeve so she wouldn’t stroke the hair
A muscle in his jaw twitched and he narrowed his eyes at her. “I mistook you for Miss Saito,” he said. “Terribly unfortunate and I do apologize.”
She ignored the fact that he didn’t seem sorry at all. “No, I mean, how did it happen? You don’t act like it’s anything surprising, so that means you must do it all the time. So, how do you do it?”
He took her arm, led her to the nearest chair and pushed her gently into it. He crouched down in front of her, eyes troubled, and waved his arm around.
“It’s a curse,” he said. “A spell. In a word, it’s witchcraft. It’s a long story I will definitely explain to you further when I have more time, but I must get ready for the event tonight.”
He rose, but she clamped both her hands onto his wrist, almost pulling him into her lap.
“I’m lost in a different century because of you,” she said, feeling the tears she’d been holding in for the last couple of hours about to flow. “And now I’m a pathetic widowed career mistress. How can you just drop something like a witch’s spell on me and then go off to some ball? Don’t you have a single feeling?” She stared hard at him, willing the tears not to fall, almost biting through her lip to keep from sobbing.
He closed his eyes and dropped his chin, the same look of pain she’d momentarily glimpsed when they first arrived. “There’s someone I have to meet. He has information for me about— At any rate, he’s impatient to be on his way to his country home. It’s not something I can get in a letter. I must speak to him tonight or ride all the way to Scotland.”
Before she could ask anything else, Duncan entered the room, not even blinking at seeing Lord Ashford kneeling before her as she clutched at him. She dropped his hand and leaned back in the chair.
“Ah, good, I’ve found you. Miss Jacobs, there’s a meal waiting for you, if you’re hungry. Cook’s stew is the best in London, and there’s apple tart as well.”
Ashford nodded seriously, standing up. “Her stew is unparalleled,” he agreed.
Tilly was hungry, but more importantly, she was eaten up with curiosity. How could Ashford not manage to answer her questions? He’d replied, but she was more confused than ever. And witchcraft? If she hadn’t already got used to the idea of having been swept to 1814, the mention of witchcraft would have sent her over the deep end. As it was, all she wanted was more information. Information. She ignored Duncan and grabbed Ashford’s arm again.
“Information about what? You said you had to talk to someone tonight. About what?”
The two men exchanged a look, and Duncan hurried forward, probably to hustle her away from asking anymore questions. Surprisingly, Ashford stopped him with a flick of his free hand, then turned to look down at her.
“My sister,” he said. “She’s gone missing. I need to find out what’s happened to her.”
Well, she hadn’t expected that, nor the look on his face. If she’d thought he’d looked distressed before, now he looked downright anguished. She moved a step closer, feeling like a jerk for only thinking of herself when he clearly had something far bigger than her problem going on. She’d only thought he was going to have a wonderful time, forgetting about her completely. His sister, his twin, was missing. No wonder he was so agitated.
She had to stay strong, and not feel like any of this was her fault, no matter how badly she wanted to comfort him. Because she desperately wanted to comfort him somehow, anyone would, he looked so tormented.
She tightened her grip on his sleeve so she wouldn’t stroke the hair
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