Page 55 of Heart of a Witch
“This is a bad idea,” I said, though my body was betraying me, still tangled around him, want running through my veins with startling desire. “I should go home.”
“It’s three in the morning.” He looked at the night sky hiding behind a crack in his drapes. “It’s dangerous this late, and the doctor wants to see you in the morning.”
“I let the scotch go to my head,” I lied. I’d only meant to seduce him, to allow him one kiss, not anything to this extent. It was important to leave him wanting more.
He moved me off him, gently laying me on the bed at his side. “If I was too forward, I apologize. I must have misread this evening, apparently.”
He hadn’t. I was the one who’d let it go too far. “No, you didn’t.” What could I say? I didn’t want to appear anything less than the seductress he believed me to be, but how could I get out of this gracefully without ruining things? “I’m just feeling a little nauseated from the alcohol.”
“Do you need some mint tea?”
I shook my head. “Maybe I’ll stay, but I’ll go back to the other room.” I paused once I walked to the door, placing my hand on the handle but not opening it. “It was a good kiss,” I said.
I hoped I hadn’t put him off me. I needed the plan to succeed. I’d almost let my instincts ruin everything. I wasn’t a fucking animal. Perhaps ithadbeen the scotch. Yes. It had to have been, because there was no way I wanted him in that way. He was a human who wore the face of my enemy. I hated him, yet I’d almost enjoyed our kiss. It wasn’t meant to be. It was never part of the plan. Kissing, touching, anything it took to make him fall for me was meant to be hard, to be painful to endure, not enjoyable.
I had swizzled too much. I wouldn’t let it happen again.
On a positive note, at least I was in his house. I took a deep breath in, slowing my racing thoughts. Focus, Victoria, think. Every part of our plan had worked so far, except for that. I’d seduced him and hurt myself so I could stay in his house. It had been Cas’s idea, and I was shocked it had worked, but my brother had gathered more information about Damian and how he would react than I had. I smiled. Alex had been successful in placing the hex bag under Damian’s bed while the kerfuffle—me—was happening. I just needed to map out the house better now that there wasn’t anyone around.
Dismissing the ache left by him from between my legs, I crept out of the room with no oil lamp, in complete darkness, and headed down the corridor. I found Damian’s room; I presumed because it was the only one locked and Alex had said it had a blue door. I made a mental note of where it was, looking around and taking in my surroundings. Dark-brown beams ran down the length of the cream walls. Quietly, I made my way down the next corridor, careful not to hit too many squeaky floorboards, until I reached his study.
After an hour of searching the place, I’d mapped the most important rooms in the house and found a collection of beautiful dresses hidden away in a room separate to Damian’s. It was dustier than the others, as if no one had gone in there in a long time.
They must have belonged to Elijah’s mother, and while it was not above me to wear a dead woman’s dress, it felt wrong. I loosed a sigh, then pulled on the boxy thing, hoping Elijah wouldn’t see me. I couldn’t go outside dressed all in my black clothes. The people of this town already looked down on me for my fashion tastes; I had to at least look somewhat respectable when meeting Damian. How else could I gain his trust?
I walked out, breathed in deeply, and headed to the gardens.
***
Damian stood with his hands clasped behind his back, overlooking the vast gardens and toward the slow sunrise. I wondered what was going through his mind. Angling my head, I took him in. His blue robes rippled against the gentle breeze, and as the sun coated him, he raised his chin as if he were being covered in light by his god.
I picked up the skirts of my dress, my eyes narrowing at the white lace. It frilled around my neckline. My hair was tied into a silky knot at the back of my head, and I was grateful Elijah was still asleep, giving me a chance to change before he’d see me.
I made my way downstairs, only passing one male servant along the way, which was fortunate as I was sure some of the maids would report to Elijah.
I stepped in front of Damian Shaw as the sun rose gently in the sky, casting light around me. His eyes widened as he looked me up and down. I placed one hand over the other and glanced coyly at the ground, then slowly climbed my gaze back to him. “Mr. Shaw, I must apologize for intruding on your morning prayers.”
He cleared his throat. “No intrusion at all, Miss…”
Typical. He’d already forgotten my name. “Weathermore.”
A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “I am surprised to see another soul up this early.”
I stepped out of the way, placing myself at his side. “I did not expect another to be up either. I enjoy strolling the gardens, to see the beauty of the world before the noise fills it, from others.” I knotted my fingers. “It is the most intimate time, I believe, to pray to Zerheus and Celeste.”
He inhaled deeply, then let out a long exhale. “It seems you and I are in agreement, Miss Weathermore.”
“Please, Mr. Shaw, you can call me Victoria.” As expected, he didn’t recognize his late wife’s dress, though I could still smell a hint of lavender among the dust.
“Where is my son?” he asked, looking over his shoulder, as if suddenly aware of our being alone.
“Sleeping still, I assume. I didn’t check, but I stopped by his door on the way here.”
He licked his lips, his expression hardening. “He should be awake.”
I forced a smile, one that balled my cheeks, to pretend as if I couldn’t hear the contempt in his voice. “It may be my fault for his being up late, with what happened.”
“Late nights are no excuse.” He turned toward me, as if suddenly remembering I had gone through something awful. “Do you feel better?”
