Page 38 of Master Wolf
“Come to Ghent with me…”
“I can’t come with you.” Drew said at last.
Some light in Lindsay’s eyes dimmed at these words and the scent of his despair filled the air. Drew felt as though he was choking on it.
Lindsay raised a hand, as though to touch Drew’s face, only to check himself and let it drop again by his side.
At last he said, “You’re wrong when you say this isn’t real. I felt it before I ever bit you.”
“Felt what?”
Lindsay swallowed. “This. Love.”
Drew’s heart twisted painfully. “Love,” he said. “Is that why you bit me? Why you turned me into a monster? Because youlovedme?”
“You’re not a monster,” Lindsay said in a low, driven tone. “No more than I am, or Francis is, or Marguerite.”
Drew shook his head. He felt strangely gutted. “You’re not even sorry, are you?”
Lindsay met his gaze steadily. “I’m sorry that you hate me,” he said, “But I’m not sorry I saved your life. What was I supposed to do? Leave you there, bleeding to death on the floor?”
Drew shook his head. “You did not ask me,” he said, then thumped his fist against his chest. “And now I have this beast inside me that fights me constantly. And I don’twantit, Lindsay. I don’t want this beast and I don’t want this God-damned bond that makes me feel like a slave!”
The door of the parlour opened then and Marguerite de Carcassonne stood there, her lovely face tight with anger. Without prelude she said, “Enough of these arguments. Lindsay, you do not have time to waste. Go and pack and fetch your Mr. Wildsmith. And as for you”—she pointed at Drew and narrowed her gaze—“You can come with me, Mr. Nicol. It is time we got to know one another a little better.”
Chapter Eleven
The present
Edinburgh,November 1820
“What didyou find in Muir’s office?” Drew asked Marguerite once they were back in the carriage.
Marguerite reached inside her reticule and pulled out a letter. She handed it to Drew, but when he went to unfold it, said, “Look at the seal.”
The seal was broken, but when he matched up the edges he saw the design that had been pressed into the warm wax.
Three ravens’ heads.
“It’s from a member of the Order?” He met Marguerite’s gaze. Her black eyes gleamed with excitement.
“A Mr. Bainbridge,” she said. “Another of the potential buyers.”
Drew opened out the letter then. It was brief and to the point, informing Muir of his expected arrival time—several days ago—and confirming an appointment to see the skeleton yesterday.
“Wynne should be able to track him down from this,” Marguerite said.
Drew wasn’t sure whether she meant using his human ingenuity—which was considerable—or his witchcraft, and he didn’t ask.
When they got back to Rankeillor Street, there was a note waiting for them from Lindsay, with a pair of vouchers for the Assembly Rooms that evening enclosed. It informed them that the leader of the Town Council, a Mr. Begg, would be in attendance and Lindsay would introduce them.
“Excellente!” Marguerite pronounced, well satisfied.
“How serendipitous,” Drew said. Was ittooconvenient? Drew was wary of any good fortune that seemed to fall into his lap.
Marguerite shrugged. “Edinburgh is a small place, and Lindsay is well placed to introduce us to the most influential people. Even so, we are making unexpectedly good progress considering we have only been here one day. At this rate, I will have you back in London in a fortnight!”
Drew smiled tightly.