The Mad, Bad Duke (Nvengaria #2)(98)

Black Annie gestured for Meagan to sit on the sofa and gracefully slid into a chair facing her. “If I may be bold to say so, Your Grace, you look well. Much better than when you came here with Mrs. Braithwaite. I believe married life agrees with you, although you do look a bit tired this morning. Did you not sleep well?”

Meagan’s tongue felt thick. “My husband has gone missing.” She hadn’t meant to blurt that, but worry consumed her.

Black Annie looked thoughtful. “Nvengarians are always surrounded by intrigue, Your Grace. He will turn up when he is finished with it.”

“The Grand Duke was chasing assassins,” Meagan said dully.

“Yes, I know he was. Gossip of what happened at your ball is all over town.” She gave Meagan a sympathetic look. “Some of the guests believed the attack part of the Nvengarian festivities, calling it a prank put on by lunatic foreigners.”

Meagan blinked back tears. “My bodyguard, Dominic, is hurt, and my husband is missing. I’d hardly call that a prank.”

Black Annie leaned forward and patted Meagan’s knee, her touch motherly. “I truly am sorry, Your Grace. What may I do to help?”

After Simone’s hysterics and Mrs. Caldwell’s fussing, Black Annie’s kind-voiced concern unleashed the tears Meagan had kept dammed all night. They spilled out, unhindered, before she could stop them.

Instantly, Black Annie was at her side, gathering Meagan into her arms, her plump body comforting.

“There now, don’t take on so. The Grand Duke has much experience chasing assassins, and he can defend himself. Being part logosh will help him.”

Meagan lifted her head, eyes widening. “How on earth did you know about that?”

Black Annie looked wise. “It is simple, my dear. I knew his mother.”

“You did? But …” Meagan gaped at the very English, very middle-class woman in astonishment.

“Did you not guess, Your Grace?” Black Annie asked. “I am half Nvengarian. My father was English, my mother from Nvengaria.”

Meagan shook her head, sniffling. “No, I did not know.”

“Truly? I had thought it obvious. I was raised in London, and when my father died, my mother traveled with me to Nvengaria so I could meet our family. Because my mother was inclined to the Craft, she knew of the logosh and took me to the mountains to find them. I met Alexander’s mother when she was dying, poor thing. She worried about the child she’d left. She said she had a feeling that Alexander would one day end up in England—he hardly could avoid it, being Grand Duke, so that was not a very difficult prediction—and would I make certain he was all right? I promised. And last autumn, sure enough, he turned up in London.”

“You knew Alexander was logosh all along?” Meagan asked. “Why did you not tell him?”

Black Annie looked blank. “You mean he did not know?”

“No, he did not find out until recently. And that was all your fault.”

Black Annie withdrew her comforting arms. “My fault? My dear, what are you talking about?”

“The love spell.” Meagan rose to her feet in agitation. “The be-damned love spell you made for me—I mean for Deirdre. Except Alexander said that those sorts of spells are very specific, and that you truly made it for me … and for him.”

Black Annie gave her a nod. “He is correct. I did, yes.”

“Why?” Meagan asked in anguish.

“Why?” Black Annie looked surprised. “Because I thought you’d suit of course.”

“You thought we’d suit?” Meagan laughed, a little hysterically. “So you decided to trick me … But your love spell is tearing us apart. The spell released the logosh inside Alexander and now he refuses to come near me. Every time the spell flares, he is afraid he’ll hurt me, so he keeps his distance, and I never see him any more.” Meagan choked on a sob.

Black Annie watched her, puzzled. “I’m afraid I do not understand. Every time the spell flares? What do you mean?”

Meagan wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “I mean that every time Alexander and I walk into the same room, the spell makes us want nothing but to be with each other—in bed. You know what I mean. We have both been trying to find you, to make you break the spell, but you have been un-findable, and I do not know what Alexander has done with the talisman.” Meagan made a helpless gesture. “You must know a way to counteract the spell without the talisman. Please, I will pay you as much as Deirdre did—more, I can give you whatever you want, if it’s money you need. I seem to be very wealthy now. When Alexander is no longer under the influence of the spell, perhaps he will be able to control the logosh, and perhaps he will cease avoiding me …”

“Meagan.” Black Annie’s gentle voice cut through her words. “You are making no sense. The spell is finished and gone. It was only temporary. It was made to disperse the night you consummated your marriage.”



* * *



Alexander saw everything with beast’s eyes, the world curved but very sharp about the edges. He smelled blood and knew the assassins lay inside the small house he’d tracked them to.

They hadn’t known he’d followed, foolish, foolish men who’d left a huge trail of scent—blood, unwashed bodies, gunpowder.