Page 63 of Once Upon an Enchanted Castle

A glance overhead to see the sky dotted with twinkling stars and the quarter moon glaring down at him. He closed his eyes as the shift took hold of him. The burning sensation from the brand on his arm was the first sign. Then, then pain ripped through him. He staggered to his feet, the guttural feral scream ripping from his throat as the shift started in his legs, then moved upward to his torso, down his arms, and finally his head and shoulders.

He tilted his head back and snarled, then howled at the quarter moon, his transformation complete. With his feral instincts taking over, he bounded from the castle gardens and into the night.

The familiar carriage was parked outside Hawthorne Hall when she arrived.Lord Vincent. A wave of apprehension shifted through her as she froze there, staring at the house with the yellow candlelight dancing behind the lace curtains. Warm. Cheerful. Welcoming.

A contrast to the enchanted castle she left behind with a secluded man who needed her.

Lord Vincent had come to call, and she was not at home. Dread pounded through her. She did not want to see him, but she suspected he was there to see Emmaline. At least, she hoped he came to see the girl and not her.

The distant howl sounded through the night. She halted there on the stoop and turned to stare into the inky darkness. Squinting, she tried to make out any movement that was there, but she saw nothing and no one.

An eerie sensation swept up her spine, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. There was something out there. Something that skulked through the shadows, searching. Though she didn’t see theveil-shade, she suspected they were still out there.

The howl sounded again. Sucking in a breath, she read for the doorknob and pushed open the door, stepping inside quickly and closing it with a snap behind her. She pressed her back against the door, her heart beating wildly.

Movement in the parlor caught her attention. She straightened and did her best to put on a bright smile, as if nothing was amiss. Emmaline appeared in the doorway. Lord Vincent stood behind her. They both gave her a curious look.

“Oh, Bella, you’ve returned,” Emmaline said. “Lord Vincent is here.” She motioned to the man standing behind her, her cheeks turning a pale pink.

“I see that.” Bella moved toward the foyer table and placed the book there, hoping neither of them saw it. She pulled off her gloves in haste, dropping them on top of the book. Then she removed her bonnet and turned to the two of them and continued to force a pleasant smile. “You’ve come to call on my Emmaline, have you?”

Lord Vincent moved around the girl to greet Bella. He reached for her hand, taking it in his, and kissed the top of it with his cool lips. She slipped her hand away.

“I do hope this is not an imposition,” he said.

“Not at all. Is there tea?” She peered into the parlor hoping there was something to eat. Her stomach emitted a fierce rumble.

“Yes,” Emmaline said and moved back into the room.

She immediately started to work and poured a cup as Bella entered, Lord Vincent on her heels. Bella gratefully accepted the warm brew, relishing the bergamot scent wafting up to her. It was a long, tiring day, and the last thing she wanted to do was entertain a guest.

“Miss Emmaline said you were interested in the unfinished manuscript you were translating,” Lord Vinent said. He motioned to the book and a stack of papers on the low table between the chairs. “I brought it.”

“Oh, thank you for bringing it. Now, I can finish my work.” She sat near Emmaline, holding the cup and eyeing the small finger sandwiches on the tray. It was long past dinner time.

“I can pay you the remaining fee in advance, if you like,” he said.

Her gaze lifted to him, peering at him over the top of her cup. It occurred to her he suspected she wanted to finish the translation because she needed money. Because her father was still in the port. Because her father’s business was in ruination. Because she was facing the downfall of the estate.

“That’s not necessary,” she said with a pleasant smile. She wanted to make it clear she was not desperate. “You can pay me upon delivery of the final translation. I should have that ready for you in the next day or so.”

An awkward silence descended between the three of them. She was desperately tired, yet she was unable to think of nothing else but the cursed book on the foyer table.

“I should be going.” He rose to his full height, his gaze flickering between the two of them before landing on Emmaline. “Miss Emmaline, thank you for your hospitality.” Then he turned to Bella. “I shall take my leave.”

He headed for the door where he paused to collect his hat and overcoat. Guilt slashed through her, though she was unsure why. It was as though her arrival had interrupted their intimate meeting. She was at a loss for words, though. She glanced at Emmaline who looked disappointed by his leaving.

Bella placed her cup on the table and followed him to the door. Emmaline remained in the parlor.

“Thank you for bringing the book, Lord Vincent.”

He had paused in the foyer, his keen gaze on the cursed book underneath her bonnet and gloves. Her nerves rattled, and she resisted the urge to dash to the book and scoop it up. He turned to her, then, his gaze meeting hers.

“I do hope all is well with you, my lady.” He said no more, but the hint was there. He hoped she was all right while her father was absent and faced who-knows-what terrible things in the port.

“I am well, thank you.”

She reached for the door and pulled it open. The balmy night air spilled inside along with a scent of something wild and untamed. Her breath caught as she snapped her head toward the darkness. She thought she saw the flash of pale brown eyes in the night. Her heart clawed its way to her throat. Her first impulse was to put her hand on Lord Vincent’s arm to stop him from stepping outside.

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