Her Gypsy Lord (Magic and Mayhem #1) Page 5

  “What are you going to tell our parents?” Lord Michael demanded. “They won’t believe the truth.”

  “She’ll stay with me,” Adam blurted out as his hand tightened at her waist.

  Redgrave and Lord Michael whipped their heads around. Redgrave’s eyes widened, and Lord Michael’s mouth dropped open. Their expressions were a mixture of surprise and suspicion. They’d known him since Eton and never questioned his honor before. Was it because he’d come to call on their sister, or because he was part Gypsy, or both?

  “I’m not letting my little sister go off with you,” Lord Michael argued.

  “Yes, you will, because I’m going as well,” Redgrave interrupted, then focused on Charlotte. “Pack enough for tonight and tomorrow. The rest can be sent,” Redgrave ordered. “Charlotte, we will not spend another night here, and you will keep that talisman exactly where it is until we are free of this place.”

  The decision should make him easier about Charlotte’s safety, but Adam’s gut warned that this was not over. Maybe once they left the castle his unease would disappear, but Adam doubted it.

  “I’ll escort you to your chamber.” Lord Michael pulled Charlotte from Adam before lifting an eyebrow in warning. It was all Adam could do to keep from grabbing her back to him.

  When had Charlotte become so important to him? And why did he feel it was up to him to see to her safety and not her brothers? They barely knew one another. They’d shared a carriage and he’d called on her today, but it wasn’t as if they’d been acquainted for years or he was courting her. Yet, Adam could not let go of the feeling that Charlotte belonged to him and that he was meant to protect her.

  Adam followed Lord Michael and Charlotte through the dark, haunted corridors of Castle Keyvnor. He’d never been above stairs because there’d been no cause.

  The castle was huge, curved, going on and on, with places where you needed to go down before you could go up again. All throughout were sections from icy cold to warm and comforting. Charlotte shivered each time they stepped in frigid air but made no comment. Adam knew exactly what those spots were, but said nothing. She and Redgrave were already worried about one ghost, they didn’t need to be concerned about the half dozen harmless ones they’d just encountered on the way to her chambers.

  Finally, they stopped and Lord Michael opened the door for Charlotte, gave instructions to her maid, and then stepped back out, closing the door.

  Should he stand here and wait too? Return to the sitting room, if he could find it now, or return to Hollybrook Park to alert his grandfather that they were to have guests? But, even as he considered the possibilities, Adam knew he was not leaving her chambers unguarded no matter what. What if she needed him?

  Lord Michael crossed his arms across his chest and studied Adam.

  “You put your hand inside my sister’s bodice.”

  Bloody hell! Of all people to chastise him he had not expected it to come from a rake like Lord Michael, who’d probably had his hands in more bodices in one year than Adam had in his life. “I needed to put the putsi back or she would have died.”

  He nodded. “I know your reasoning, but I still take issue.”

  “You’d rather I let her die for propriety’s sake? You and your brother weren’t doing anything but yelling.”

  “Had Charlotte told us about her visit to your grandmother and the warnings, perhaps we would have been better prepared and had an idea of what to expect.”

  Adam had heard the dire warnings, and was familiar with the castle and the hauntings, but not even he was prepared when Charlotte was suspended in the air by invisible hands around her neck.

  Lord Michael shook his head. “I knew this place was haunted, but I suspected the ghosts to be harmless, why else would families continue to live here?”

  “Lord Tyrell is far from harmless.”

  “Yes.” Lord Michael narrowed his eyes again. “When did you and my sister become so close?”

  Adam resisted the urge to pull at his cravat. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You came to call on her, and ever since that damned ghost nearly killed her, you’ve held her hand, had a hand at her waist, and kept her rather close.” Lord Michael took a step closer. “Exactly what are your intentions?”

  Bloody hell. He barely knew her. He wanted to know Charlotte. He wanted to know everything, but it was far too soon to be discussing intentions.

  A man stomped down the corridor whom Adam recognized as the Marquess of Halesworth, Charlotte’s father. “Where is she?” he demanded.

  Lord Michael nodded to Charlotte’s room. Her father barely knocked on the door before he barged in, slamming it behind him. As much as Adam tried to listen, all he could hear were raised voices, but he could not make out the words.

  As the moments ticked by, he waited in uncomfortable silence with Lord Michael staring at him. Adam had yet to answer his question.

  When Halesworth finally did emerge, any anger that had entered the room with him was gone, and the marquess was visibly shaken, his face ashen. “When Anthony told me what happened, I assumed he had embellished or was poking fun at all the ghost talk. But after Charlotte explained and I saw the bruises on her neck, I agree that she must leave. If I didn’t have to remain, I’d take the entire family from this cursed place.”

  He turned to Adam. “Thank you for offering your home to Charlotte and Anthony.”

  “It’s my pleasure to do so, Lord Halesworth.”

  “I understand you returned this putsi charm thing to her person, inside her bodice.”

  Adam’s face heated as he nodded.

  “You and I will talk when the danger to my daughter has passed.”

  “It was to save her life,” Adam insisted.

  “Far less has ruined young ladies.” He took a step forward. “It’s time she married anyway, and you have need of a wife since you are now the heir.” With that he turned on his heel and marched away.

  Chapter 8

  Charlotte tried her best to sleep but found it near impossible. She thought she’d relax once she was away from Castle Keyvnor, but Adam’s grandfather, Viscount Lynwood, frightened her nearly as much as the ghost of Baron Tyrell. Of course, she couldn’t blame him for being upset at having guests when he’d buried his oldest grandchild the day before. Had she even paused to think before her escape from the castle, she would have insisted Anthony take her into Bocka Morrow. Surely there was an inn where they could have spent the night.

  Dinner was strained and silent, with the viscount glaring alternately at Adam, Anthony, and then her. When it was concluded, all she wanted to do was hide away in the chamber they’d given her for the night and find a new place to stay tomorrow.

  Perhaps she was simply still on edge from what had happened today. Those events would surely make it impossible for anyone to sleep.

  But, she was safe here. Or at least that is what she kept telling herself. Yet still, sleep evaded her.

  As gently as possible, so as not to disturb Martha, Charlotte pushed the covers away and got out of bed. It wasn’t her maid’s habit to sleep with her, but after hearing what happened, Martha would not leave Charlotte’s side. She couldn’t have the poor dear sleeping on the floor or in a chair, and since the bed was certainly large enough, she insisted her maid sleep beside her. Unlike Charlotte, Martha was asleep almost instantly.

  After grabbing a wrapper, she wandered about her room, seeing only what she was able under the full moon. Voices drifted to her, and she stopped and slowly turned. “Not another haunted house?” she whispered.

  Charlotte remained still and listened, straining to hear where the voices were coming from. When she realized it was from outside, she relaxed and wandered to the window. Why would anyone be out this late? Was it Adam, her brother, strangers meant to do them harm?

  She shook her head. One encounter with a ghost, and she was becoming as easily alarmed as her cousin Cassy.

  Lights flickered below, disappearing when they g
rew closer to the cliffs. It was too early for fishermen and too late to be enjoying an evening on the water. And, there were a lot of them.

  Maybe she should determine who they were before alarming anyone. It wouldn’t do to wake a household over something that may be innocent, but she didn’t want to be murdered in her sleep either. The day had already been trying enough.

  This was why his grandfather was upset about having guests. Adam had completely forgotten the smugglers were bringing in cargo tonight. Not that the practice was a secret to anyone in the area, but outsiders, such as Redgrave and Charlotte, might alert the authorities. Hopefully they were both sound asleep and would never know what his grandfather was up to.

  The lights bobbed on the water under a full moon as the boats made their way to the beach. He’d seen it many times before and usually participated, but held back tonight. He didn’t want to be so far from Charlotte. What if she needed him? The day had been horrible, and Adam was surprised she slept. If the same had happened to him, he might very well be having nightmares. For that very reason, he remained on the terrace, beneath her window, drinking brandy and watching the boats as he contemplated his future.

  Why wasn’t he angry by the turn of events? Even if he had known that returning the putsi to her bosom would get him leg shackled, Adam would do it again. To not do so, simply to avoid matrimony, would have seen her dead, which he could have never lived with. Besides, he hadn’t thought, he’d only reacted.

  If it was any other lady he knew so little of, he’d be livid at being forced to marry, but the idea of marrying Charlotte didn’t alarm him in the least. In fact, as soon as her father made his intentions known, Adam relaxed as warmth seeped around his heart. He did desire her. Had since the moment he’d seen her crossing the field, a bright smile on her face. Her soft, rounded body outlined in her gown and those breasts. His mouth practically watered, knowing that soon he’d be able to taste them and she’d be his.

  Oh, to be that putsi, nestled between her glorious breasts.

  No, the idea of marrying Charlotte, of her being his forever, didn’t alarm Adam in the least. In fact, he wondered how soon it could be accomplished.

  Adam sensed her before he saw her--Charlotte, his future wife, not that she’d been made aware of that fact. He turned and his cock twitched when he caught sight of her. His mouth went dry, as it hung suspended in air. Good God, she was a vision. She wore a wrapper over a nightgown, her golden hair was down, flowing about her shoulders, and all he wanted to do was sweep her up in his arms and carry her back to bed. His bed!

  She took a step back and pulled the wrapper close, clutching it together at her breasts. Adam wished to take her hands away, to have her open to him.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said with a shy smile.

  He could think of many ways to help her relax enough to sleep, but she was not his yet. “After the events of the day, I cannot blame you.”

  She took a step closer and looked past him, to the beach. As she was going to be living here, she might as well become familiar with the odd comings and goings on the beach.

  “Would you like a brandy?” Was it proper to offer a lady brandy? He was too befuddled to know what was proper at the moment. Only that he didn’t want her to return to her chamber. “Perhaps a glass of wine? Tea?”

  “Brandy would be nice.” She smiled. “It may help me sleep.”

  “I’ll only be a moment.” Adam hurried through the doors leading to the library where he poured a glass for Charlotte and added more to his own before returning to her. Charlotte had moved to the end of the terrace. There wasn’t much lawn beyond, before the high cliff.

  “Thank you,” she said as he pressed the glass into her hand. “Who are they?”

  “Smugglers.”

  Charlotte straightened. “Smugglers? And you are just standing here, doing nothing?”

  “Usually I’m down there with them.” He took a sip, waiting for her reaction.

  Charlotte turned, her hazel eyes wide with surprise. “You’re a smuggler?” she whispered. Instead of being appalled, she seemed almost intrigued and excited.

  “Family business, one I resisted for a time.”

  The wind picked up and Charlotte rubbed her arm, the one holding the brandy.

  “Come inside, you’ll freeze out here.”

  He stood back so she could precede him into the library. He’d left a few lamps burning low earlier so that he could make his way around the furniture without injury to a toe or shin, but a good deal of the room was now lit by the full moon, unobscured by clouds.

  “Does your grandfather know?”

  Adam chuckled. “He’s probably down there right now.”

  “Why did you resist it?” Charlotte asked as she settled onto the settee. “It sounds marvelously adventurous.”

  Ah yes, her brothers had complained that she was too adventurous. Being married to Charlotte would either be entertaining or drive him to Bedlam.

  Adam settled beside her and then took her hand in his. He’d wanted to touch her since she stepped outside. She didn’t pull away but threaded her fingers with his. Soon, if he were so lucky, their legs would be equally intertwined.

  Charlotte frowned. “Though it is highly illegal.”

  “Aye.” Adam shook his head. “My mother’s family…”

  “They’re Gypsies,” Charlotte offered, taking a sip of her brandy.

  “Yes. Well, my grandfather never liked the Gypsies being in the area. He didn’t trust them — called them pickpockets, thieves, and charlatans. He was livid when my father fell in love with my mother.”

  “He smuggles,” Charlotte pointed out the obvious.

  “Yes, but brandy, wine, lace, silks, and the like are refined, my dear. Stealing from the unsuspecting seeking to have a fortune told is far beneath any gentleman.”

  “He believed your mother…”

  “Far beneath my father, yes.”

  “How sad.” Though the viscount’s opinions should not be a surprise. She’d often heard those in the ton talk ill of those thought to be beneath them, as if anyone had control of their birth, and that automatically made them unworthy of notice. Then she blinked at him. “That is why they live on Banfield land?”

  Adam chuckled. “Banfield and my grandfather hated each other. I can’t begin to describe the animosity between the two, so when my grandfather sent them away, Banfield offered a piece of land for them to live in the winter, right on the border of the two estates.”

  “That’s simply horrible, of your grandfather,” Charlotte said with outrage. “His own in-laws.”

  “At least they were near, or are every winter, so I can visit my grandmother. Had Banfield not offered a place for them, I might not have ever had the chance to know my mother’s family.”

  “Do you have other family?” Sadness filled her eyes. “You’ve just lost your brother, older brother, is there no one else?”

  As they were to be married, even if she wasn’t aware, now was just as good a time as any to tell her of his family. Besides, perhaps it would take her mind off the smuggling going on below them and the ghost that’s trying to kill her at Castle Keyvnor. “My mother died when I was two, not long after delivering my younger brother who did not survive.

  Charlotte gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

  He squeezed her hand. Truthfully, he remembered nothing of his mother and only had a portrait of her in his room since grandfather would not allow it to be displayed with the other family portraits. Once he was gone, however, Adam would see that it was returned to the place on the wall beside the one of his father in the gallery.

  “What was her name?”

  “Lela, Lela Boswell.”

  “And, she was the daughter of the Gypsy who gave me the putsi?”

  Adam grinned. “Yes.” Did his grandmother foresee a future for him and Charlotte as one? Is that why she broke from tradition, from her normal readings to please those who came and pocket a few shillings? The gems insi
de the putsi were valuable, especially to a Gypsy, yet she’d given them over to a stranger without a fee.

  The old woman knew. He’d bet everything he had that Puri daj knew the moment she set eyes on Charlotte that she was Adam’s destiny and had done everything in her power to make sure that Charlotte survived so that their fates could merge as they were supposed to.

  “It is sad that there is only you and your grandfather left from your father.” Then she frowned. “Unless your father lives. I only assume…”

  “My father passed away several years ago.”

  Charlotte turned more fully towards him. “I’m sorry.”

  “However, he did remarry when I was six. Besides a stepmother, I also have four younger sisters, Diana, Miranda, Cordelia, and Adriana, as well as a younger brother, Edward.” He really should consider sending for Edward so that he could begin to learn what was expected of him. Now that Thomas was gone, Edward was now the spare.

  Her hazel eyes widened in surprise. “Where are they?”

  That is what he’d like to know, not that he missed his stepmother. “She took her children away when Thomas, my older brother, returned home. She feared them becoming ill or injured in his presence.”

  Those delicate, blonde eyebrows drew together in concern. “How long ago?”

  “Two years.”

  Chapter 9

  Charlotte twirled the stem of the glass between her fingers. In retrospect, two years wasn’t terribly that long. She hadn’t seen her brother Harry in nearly twelve years. But, he’d been away at sea, which was an entirely different matter. And, as irritating as Anthony and Michael could be, she would miss them after a year or so.

  Voices drifted up from the beach. How exciting to be sitting right above smugglers. “Will you show me?”