Midnight Angel (Stokehurst #1)(36)

Once more Tasia dropped them to the table. This time one of them teetered at the edge and fell to the carpet.

“Ah.” The clairvoyant exhaled softly. “The pattern repeats itself. It is the shape of two brothers, death and sleep.” She bent to retrieve the stone that had fallen. Rolling it between her fingers, she studied the markings closely. It was bloodred in color, speckled with black. Setting down the stone, she took Tasia's hands in a firm grip. “You have traveled far from your birthplace. You have been torn from your home and history.” She paused, her painted brows knitting together. “Not long ago you touched the very wings of death.”

Transfixed, Tasia made no sound. The candle flames seemed to turn red and purple at the edges.

“I see a distant land…a city built on bones. It is surrounded by ancient forests. Wolves hide among the trees. I see piles of gold and amber…palaces, land, servants…all of it yours. I see you, wearing a gown of silk and a necklace of precious jewels.”

Suddenly Lady Harcourt interrupted in a droll tone. “Miss Billings is only a governess, Madame. Pray tell, how has she achieved such a splendid future? Made a brilliant marriage, I suppose?”

“Not the future,” Madame Miracle said. “I speak of the past.”

The room was very quiet. Tasia's heart churned, and she tugged at her imprisoned hands. “I want to stop,” she said hoarsely.

The clairvoyant's knotted fingers tightened, and a prickling heat began to build between their palms. Their joined hands twitched as if an electric current passed through them. “I see you in a room filled with gold and fine paintings and books. You are seeking someone. A shadow falls across your face. There is a young man with yellow eyes. Blood…His blood is spilling to the floor. You call his name…something like…Michael…Michael—” The woman screamed and jumped back, jerking away from Tasia's hands. Tasia remained sitting at the table, frozen in terror.

Madame Miracle staggered backward and held up her scarlet palms. It looked as if she had taken hold of a boiling kettle. “She burned me!” she cried, glaring fearfully at Tasia. “Witch!”

Tasia struggled from her chair, though her legs would hardly support her. “Fraud,” she countered, her voice trembling. “I've heard enough of your ridiculous lies.” Blindly she walked through the room, her head held high, though her bowels were wrenched with terror. She was desperate for a place to hide. Oh God, what have I done? Voices from the past swarmed through her mind.

“They should burn you—”

“My poor child.”

“I didn't mean to do it.”

“—burn you to ashes.”

“God help me—”

“Witch!”

“No,” she whimpered, breaking into a run, stumbling, fleeing from the howling demons that chased her.

The room erupted in excitement. Women snapped open their fans to stir the air and conceal their rapid-fire gossip. Guests milled around Madame Miracle with eager questions. Stone-faced, Luke strode out of the room in pursuit of the governess. As he reached the hallway, he felt a violent tug at his sleeve. He stopped and turned to face Alicia. She was furious, her cheeks blazing crimson and her mouth tight.

“Not now,” Luke said harshly.

“What is wrong with you?” Alicia demanded. She pulled him to the side of the grand staircase, where there was less chance of being overheard. “I should have Charles thrash you! How could you do that to my cousin? Putting her on vulgar display when you know all about her need for secrecy—”

“I know nothing about her. Except that I'm sick of the way she floats around the mansion with her martyred air and her tragic glances, brimming with deep, dark secrets. God only knows what effect it's having on my daughter. I've had enough.”

Alicia drew herself up as tall as possible. “And so you decided to torture her in public! I never thought of you as cruel before. Well, I'm going to find Tasia and take her away with me at once. I wouldn't allow a stray dog to be subjected to your so-called hospitality, much less my cousin.”

Luke's gaze shot to her face with searing intensity. “Tasia? Is that her name?”

Horror-struck, Alicia clapped her hand to her mouth. “Forget it,” she gasped between her fingers. “Forget it at once. Just let me take her back to London. I promise you'll never have to set eyes on her again.”

His jaw hardened. “She's not going anywhere.”

Alicia faced him like a yapping terrier confronting a wolfhound. “You've interfered quite enough, thank you! You were only meant to be a temporary safeguard. Now you've put her in danger. Dragging her in front of all those people—it could well be a death sentence, and all because of your offended pride. I assured Tasia that you were trustworthy, and you proved me false. How does it feel to destroy someone's life on a whim?”

“You dragged me into this,” Luke said through his teeth. “I'll be damned if I won't see it through. What do you mean, ‘death sentence’? What the hell has she done?”

Alicia frowned and looked away. Just when Luke thought she would refuse to answer, her voice emerged reluctantly. “I don't know what she's done. I'm not even certain she knows.”

Driven to new heights of frustration, Luke uttered a foul oath. “I'll find her. Go back to the others.”