Whistle Down the Wind (Mystic Moon) (11 page)

Chapter Nine

The dinner
was a boisterous and lively affair, with the small party seated at a round table
set at one end of the large formal dining room.

Lord Cranbourne
explained his decision to forgo the formal table for something more intimate.

Catlin
nearly giggled at the nobleman’s exuberance. What a delightful change from
yesterday.

“I rarely
have the opportunity to enjoy the pleasure of even one beautiful woman. I vow I
shall not squander this chance to converse with two beauties by installing you
at various ends of that monstrous mahogany table.”

They all
took their places, allowing the footmen to seat them.

“I’m afraid
we won’t be enjoying a large supper this evening, for my chef has been
accustomed to creating thin soups and bland gruel for my palate.” Lord Cranbourne
shrugged. “I believe he shall do well enough though, for my father brought him
all the way from France. My butler tells me he is most enthusiastic to learn we
have company this evening.”

Lord Cranbourne
took great delight in naming all the rich, delicious food they were eating. The
first course consisted of rich crayfish bisque garnished with crème fraiche.
The soup had a sweet, delicate flavor.

Catlin
enjoyed the rich food and lovely furnishings. She felt like a princess thrown
into a fairy story.

“I’ve heard
’tis all the fashion now to have a supper served in the French mode, called a
buffet, I believe,” Aelwyd said to Griffin.

He nodded.
“The King was most taken with the customs of his cousin’s court while exiled
there and has adopted many habits of the French.”

“And were
you in exile with his Majesty, Sir Reynolds?” Aelwyd asked.

Catlin
sensed a probing scrutiny beneath her sister’s simple inquiry.

“Yes, Missus.
My father and older brother remained here to protect our estate from Cromwell’s
usurpation, but when I was old enough, I was sent to serve the King.”

“It seems my
loyalty ended up saving my family, as there were plans to bestow the lands upon
another petitioner after the Restoration.”

Catlin
smiled at him. “I think you must have lived a life of adventure, traveling with
his Majesty and seeing the world.”

His smile
disappeared at her words and a flicker of sadness tinged his eyes, but he
recovered quickly. “Of course, everyone knows ’tis better to be a Cavalier and
wander across Europe having adventures then to be tied to a burdensome estate.”

Lord Cranbourne
raised an eyebrow in his friend’s direction, but didn’t respond to the remark.

“I
understand you have plans to leave England and travel to the New World,” Aelwyd
said.

Griffin
nodded at his dinner companions around the table as the silver-plated soup
dishes were removed to be replaced with a salad of pear, apple, and chicory
garnished with slivers of ham. “I am a most fortunate man because my father’s
brother decided to leave England and travel to Virginia when Cromwell seized
the government. He established a successful tobacco plantation there, and
recently bequeathed it to me.” He raised his knife. “I shall be trading my
soldier’s garb for that of a yeoman farmer.”

“It sounds
to me as if you are trading one adventure for another,” Catlin said, “for the
New World is filled with exciting and terrifying things. I’ve heard there are
wild beasts there, and savages who will sneak up on you in the dark of night
and shoot you full of arrows.” She was breathless with excitement at the idea
of actually meeting someone embarking on such an journey. “But I've also heard
many fortunes are being made there.”

Aelwyd
inclined her head at her younger sister, a warning implied with the gesture. “I
suspect Sir Reynolds goes to seek his fortune, not to fight savages nor hunt
wild beasts.”

Griffin gave
them a boyish grin. “I hope to share in the excitement of helping to shape a
new colony, and if I do discover my fortune in America, well, that is the
promise, is it not?”

Aelwyd
shrugged. “From what I’ve read, most of the people who have traveled to
Virginia have found only hard work and pestilence awaiting them.”

Catlin
intervened. “I’ve read a great deal about the colonies in the Tidewater, and I
understand there is a good society of people living there now. There are
churches, a civil government, and many fine homes being built.” She warmed to
her topic, “In fact, I’ve developed a desire to see the colony myself someday.”

Her
pronouncement was followed by several moments of silence from the others at the
table and a troubled frown from her sister.

“All young
women dream of exciting places they cannot possibly travel to, just like dreams
of knights upon white chargers.” Aelwyd sent a dark glower in Griffin’s
direction. “’Tis the innocence of youth that deludes them.”

Griffin
shook his head. “I think it’s a worthy goal, for the men who live in Virginia
have complained of the lack of suitable wives in the colony.” He shot a teasing
smile in Catlin's direction. “A beauty such as Catlin could have her choice of
wealthy and established gentlemen, if she were so inclined.”

“Which she
is not, despite her foolish daydreams,” Aelwyd snapped, turning away from her
sister, and bestowing her full attention on their host. “This champagne is
delightful, Lord Cranbourne. I have only enjoyed the beverage once, when my
husband and I were invited to dinner at court. ‘Tis a most refreshing spirit.”

They went on
to discuss the many new fashions of the court of Charles II, the French
influence, and the gossip about the new Queen, Catherine of Braganza. When they
finished the main course of turkey stuffed with sage and onion, served with a
side of red cabbage and chestnuts, Cranbourne suggested they retire to the
small parlor for dessert and coffee. In the parlor, Aelwyd immediately
challenged Lord Cranbourne to a game of Ticktack.

Catlin
wandered across the room to gaze out the mullioned windows, even though
darkness had fallen outside. Griffin joined her, both hands holding flutes of
champagne.

She
hesitated when he offered her a glass filled with the bubbly wine. She glanced
uneasily toward her sister who was absorbed by the game she played. Aelwyd was
a habitual gambler and could not resist the offer to play against the wealthy
Lord.

Catlin
accepted the glass and whispered her thanks. Griffin indicated a small settee
near the fireplace, inviting her to sit with him.

“I'm
interested in hearing more of your opinions regarding Virginia,” he said as he
settled upon the damask cushion next to her. “It appears you have undertaken a
study of the subject which quite frankly surprises me. I don’t find many women
interested in reading, much less researching the settlements in the New World.”

Catlin
squirmed uncomfortably. She and her sisters had frequently been accused of
being over-educated for their sex. Her mother had been adamant regarding the
subject and had insisted tutors in all the classic subjects be hired to school
her daughters. Was Griffin serious or jesting?

“When we
lived at home, at
Llithfaen
, we had a great deal of time to read and
study. Our parents encouraged us and the priest found us to be apt pupils in
Latin and Greek.” She peeked up at Aelwyd, who was engrossed in her game with
Lord Cranbourne. “My sister is especially adept at mathematics, and my youngest
sister has shown great promise in her study of the natural sciences.”

“I tend to
agree with your parents. To waste a woman’s mind on embroidery and gossip is a
crime. Please tell me more.” He leaned back in the settee and took a sip of his
champagne.

“My father
was a baron. We grew up knowing little about the outside world except what we
read in books.” She laughed lightly, which earned her an angry scowl from
across the room as Aelwyd was momentarily distracted from her card game.

Catlin tried
to assume a more prim and proper demeanor as she continued her tale. Griffin seemed
genuinely interested.

“Like your
family, Father found it necessary to support the Parliamentarians when Cromwell
seized power, and because we lived so far from all the turmoil of the Civil
War, we thought we were safe.” She paused as tears pricked at the backs of her
eyes. “But in such times, no one is truly safe, are they?” she whispered,
trying to gain control of her emotions as she recalled all that had been lost
to her family.

“Were your
lands forfeited because your father was a Royalist?”

Catlin
leaned forward, warmed by his interest. “No, but after my mother died, my
father lost interest in the world. He spent all of his time in his chambers
conducting a study of alchemy.” She took a deep breath and reminded herself to
be careful about this explanation. It would be dangerous to divulge too much.
“And then he died, unexpectedly. We discovered another man coveted our lands.”
She watched her sister. Aelwyd was absorbed in her game and oblivious to them.

“And so he
offered to marry one of you in order to gain control of your lands, is that
what happened?” Griffin asked.

Catlin
nodded her head. “Not just one of us, but my youngest sister, Seren. In fact,
he insisted that it must be her.” She paused to consider how she could describe
the baby of their family, the fragile and perceptive young woman who was
destined to become an earth adept.

“But, she
couldn’t tolerate the presence of the man without becoming physically ill.
Seren is very sensitive to the moods of others, and she told us Baron Endevean
is a very evil man.” She shot a look at her sister who was now laughing with
Lord Cranbourne. She must be winning to be in such a jovial mood.

“In the
past, Seren has been too accurate in her assessment of others for us to doubt
the truth of her words.”

Griffin
nodded. “If all your sisters are as exceptional as you are, Catlin, then I
believe you.” He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “And I certainly hope to
become better acquainted with more of your special talents in the coming days.”

Catlin warmed
and jumped to her feet, spilling some of the champagne on the floor. The
bodkins in her hair worked loose and her carefully arranged coiffure would soon
tumble down around her shoulders if she weren’t more careful with her
movements.

“I
shouldn’t...” She gasped for air.

Before she
could compose herself, the door banged open and a tall, elderly man stormed
into the room.

“I heard you
were upon your deathbed, Morgan, and I’ve been bounced and flung about for days
in that infernal coach to rush to your side.” He gave a loud harrumph. “I was
forced to leave your stepmother at court, and you know how dangerous that can
be!” He stomped his feet and glared at everyone in the room. “Then I was nearly
swept off the road in a storm that left the track muddy and treacherous, but
what did I care, for I needed to deliver a marriage contract before you
expired.”

The man
threw off his cloak and lunged toward the couple playing cards. “Imagine my
surprise to arrive on what I believe are your last days upon this earth, only
to discover you hosting a dinner party.”

Lord Cranbourne
jumped to his feet and faced the old man, his mouth formed a grim expression,
but his eyes snapped with good humor. “I can well imagine it, milord.”

“’Tis enough
to send me into a fit of apoplexy and put me upon my own deathbed,” the old man
grumbled.

“I don’t
doubt it a bit, sir,” offered Lord Cranbourne. “I apologize for being in such
good health, and I shall endeavor to make myself ill again as soon as
possible.”

Catlin
shielded her mouth with her fan to hide her grin.

Lord Cranbourne
raised a hand to indicate the two women. “I will ask your forbearance, my Lord.
Please allow me to enjoy the company of the lovely Glyndwr sisters for a few
more days. One of them is responsible for my recent recovery, and I wish to
bask in their beauty and companionship for a bit longer.”

The old man
paused for a few minutes to study the two women and a twinkle appeared in his
own eyes. “I believe judging just by appearances, I am inclined to offer my
agreement, for I’ve not seen such beauty even in the King’s esteemed court.”

Lord Cranbourne
bowed in the direction of the women. “May I introduce my sire, Lord Robert
Fitz-John, the Earl of Shrewsbury.

Catlin and
Aelwyd rose and dipped to a formal curtsy.

“I hope you
haven’t taken an undue interest in either of these beauties, Cranbourne,
because I have your marriage contract with me, and it awaits only your
signature to seal the agreement.” He patted his doublet.

Lord Cranbourne's
smile morphed into a groan of pain. “How very fortunate for me, milord that I
managed to survive the night.”

Chapter Ten

Catlin
shivered, despite the fact that the morning was unseasonably warm for March.
She scurried out the back door and toward the kitchen gardens. She needed to hide
from her sister for a while. One look at her and Aelwyd would know something
was amiss.

She required
a private place to think, for she’d been awake most of the night in an effort
to develop a plan. Yet she still had absolutely no idea how she could convince
Sir Griffin Reynolds to take her with him on his voyage to the New World.

Catlin
wandered over the perfectly manicured gardens and toward the wild woods beyond
the gate. She peeked over her shoulder once more, expecting at any moment
Aelwyd might come running after her to prevent her escape. Keeping secrets from
a fire adept was impossible. Aelwyd’s fire dragons were everywhere, acting as
her spies.

As she
paused to take a deep breath, Catlin’s own audacity shocked her. To think of
making such a long and dangerous voyage in the company of a man she barely knew
was sheer lunacy. Yet, she remembered her mother’s words, and knew she must pay
attention to the power of prophecy.

Her sisters
wouldn't understand, because they had not heard the words from their mother’s
own lips. Her family’s destiny lay far beyond the borders of Britain.

“’Tis a
damniol
plan, even for me,” she whispered before venturing deeper into the dark woods.
How could she convince Sir Griffin Reynolds, the most handsome and charming rascal
she’d ever met, that he should serve as her conscientious and responsible
escort on a long voyage across the ocean? Perhaps she could take up alchemy to
turn lead into gold for her next feat!

Catlin
paused at a small bluff to enjoy the beautiful scenery spread before her. The
early spring day had warmed enough to make her woolen wrap unnecessary. She
enjoyed the view over a low valley, with the buzzing of bees in the blossoms of
a small apple orchard providing a symphony behind her. She closed her eyes and
breathed in the brisk, clean air.

“Are you
running away from your sister?”

Griffin’s
deep voice startled her and she jumped. He stood within a clump of hazel,
hidden from her view. If she hadn’t recognized his voice she would have thought
the place inhabited by a
bwgan
, the wild ghosts her mother had told
stories about when Catlin was a child to keep her and her sisters from
exploring the dangerous places surrounding their stone keep back home.

Catlin’s
heart continued its staccato beat now that she knew Griffin was nearby. Somehow
she had to pretend being near this man did not affect her—a most challenging
acting job as she tried to keep her gaze on the horizon and pretend a
nonchalance she didn’t actually feel.

“I wished to
take a walk and enjoy this lovely morning,” she said.

Griffin
slowly ambled from the copse toward her, the reins of his horse held loosely
within his grasp. “So, did you put a sleeping spell upon your fierce guardian
in order to slip out of Mabley Hall?”

Catlin gave
him a scathing look. “As if I would ever do such a thing, Sir Reynolds.” She
tossed her head in agitation, and her thick curls obscured her vision for a
moment. She pushed her hair back with an air of annoyance. “I hope I need not
fear you’ll reveal my secrets, now that the Earl has returned to the manor.”

Griffin
looped the reins around a small rowan tree to allow his horse to graze. His
mouth was set firmly, and a small muscle at the edge of his chiseled jaw seemed
to throb.

She hoped he
did not intend to kiss her again. Or did she perhaps wish he would? She
struggled with her emotions, trying to sort out why Griffin Reynolds confused
her so much.

“I think the
old gentleman is as besotted with the Glyndwr sisters as Lord Cranbourne and
I.” He smiled coolly, displaying even, white teeth. “But I have assured you
more than once, Miss Glyndwr, that since I have vowed to keep your secrets, I
shall not break my word.”

She nodded.
“I imagine a man of the world such as you has a great deal of experience making
promises to all sorts of women.”

Griffin
circled her, like a lion stalking his prey. “I would never compare you or your
sister to other women, for I find you both to be quite unique creations, even
though I recognize you are very different from each other.”

Warmth rose
to her cheeks. “We share the same desire to keep the members of our family
safe.”

Griffin
paused in front of her to gently lift a curl. “Safety?” He made a clucking
sound. “That sounds dreadfully tedious and not at all as interesting as casting
spells and calling upon the wind to do your bidding.”

Catlin’s
mouth went dry. Was he still seeking some sort of bargain? What would she need
to offer this man to purchase his silence and protect her family?

“You aren’t
going to tell the Earl of Shrewsbury about what I did—the spell, the wind, the
gaol?” Her voice rose an octave as fear rippled through her.

Griffin
stared down at her, a frown marring the perfection of his handsome face. “I
repeat, for what I hope is the final time. I gave my word to protect you, and
you shall discover I am a man of my word.”

He took a
step closer, and she shivered, but not from the coolness of the morning.

“My only
question is, what have you to offer in trade for my silence?”

The hot edge
of Catlin’s temper flared. “Aelwyd tried to warn me about the treacherous ways
of men, and most especially that a Cavalier could never be trusted.” She took a
step away from him. “I’m disappointed to learn she was right.”

Griffin
adjusted the baldric that held his sword. “Your sister harbors a rather unflattering
opinion of me, and I suspect all men. Who has managed to turn her against all
members of my sex?”

Catlin
shrugged. “Perhaps it was her husband, although he was ill most of their
marriage.” She narrowed her eyes to glare at Griffin. “But somehow she learned
that men are not honorable creatures, and the lesson seems to have proven valid
in regard to your character, Sir Reynolds.”

Griffin
winced before he offered her a humble bow. “I apologize for teasing you,
Catlin. It was an ugly jest and not at all appropriate for the circumstances.”

Catlin
stared at him, her mouth stuck open in astonishment. “You really don’t intend
to demand some sort of payment for your silence?”

Griffin
pulled at the leather gauntlets covering his hands. After removing them he
gently took her hand in his own and leaned forward to touch his lips to her
knuckle. “I swear I shall never make any unreasonable demands upon you, for you
have proven to be a good and honorable lady worthy of my respect and
protection.”

Catlin
stared down at the thick, tousled hair that concealed Griffin’s handsome
features. A tiny fluttering in her belly swiftly descended to her most tender
female parts. Her heart beat faster. Griffin had only been teasing her. He was
a man she could trust and he had once again repeated his vow to protect her.

When he
finally lifted his gaze to her face, she smiled at him sweetly.

“You’re a
wicked man, Sir Reynolds, to toy with my affections so callously.” She
pretended to pout. “I think I shall be very angry with you.”

Griffin
bowed again. “’Tis only what I deserve, my lady. But being in your disfavor is
a most unfortunate circumstance, because it appears this is my last day here at
Mabley Hall.”

His words
shocked Catlin. “Your last day. But you said at supper last night your ship
isn’t going to sail for another fortnight.” Panic rose within her as she gasped
for air. “You cannot be leaving so soon!”

Griffin
shook his head. “I had thought to have more time here, and it distresses me to
be leaving my friend.” He winked. “And the lovely Glyndwr sisters.”

He strolled
to the place his horse was tethered to pet the beautiful stallion. Catlin wrung
her hands together and tried to think quickly. She feared he’d jump astride his
horse and disappear forever. This couldn’t be happening— not now, when she
needed more time to put her plan into action. Although ’twould help if she had
some inkling of what she could do to convince Griffin to act as her escort and
take her with him to the New World.

A small
breeze ruffled her skirts and lifted her petticoats. A dark band of storm
clouds hovered on the far horizon, and a momentary surge of power coursed
through her. She quickly drew a sigil in the air before closing her eyes and
silently bringing the old words to mind. The singing of her
sylphs
filled her ears, and the breeze roared into a stiff wind.

She opened
her eyes. She didn’t want Griffin to turn around and discover what she was
doing. He must not suspect she controlled the weather.

He turned
back to her with a soft smile curving his lips and forming a deep dimple on the
side of his mouth. “We should return to Mabley Hall, the weather has taken a
turn for the worse.” He indicated his horse. “I’ll carry you back on Storm so
you won’t get drenched.”

He untied
the leather reins and climbed up into the saddle, adjusting his sword to the
side. He held out one arm in her direction. “Give me your hand, and I’ll swing
you up here.”

She grinned
at him. “Should I trust my life to a creature named Storm?"

Griffin
pulled her easily into the saddle in front of him, and she settled one leg
around the pommel, arranging her skirt and petticoats carefully. One of his
hands rested around her waist while the other held the reins. The horse turned
and headed in the direction of the manor house.

Catlin leaned
back against Griffin’s heavily muscled chest. The strange heat that always
suffused her body when he was near made the day seem warmer then before. Her
emotions whirled. She was thrilled to be so close to Griffin, but afraid of
what might take place between them now that they were alone together. His
kisses had promised so many sensuous delights.

They’d
traveled only a short distance when a bolt of lightening danced across the dark
sky and the horse shied sideways. A huge clap of thunder boomed just above
their heads. Moments later another flash of lightening slammed into a tree
close by, and a branch snapped off onto the path in front of them. Storm reared
back on his hind legs.

“Hang on to
me,” Griffin said, as he used both hands to maintain control of the horse.
“We’re in for a rough ride.”

The horse
turned away from the direction of the house and the instant all four of its hooves
were once again on the ground. Then he shot forward. Griffin swore as she
turned her face toward his chest.

She shivered,
terrified by the image of the forest rushing by them.

The wind had
turned into a blustering tempest now. It tore at the trees and twisted limbs in
all directions. She swallowed hard, aware that once again she had
underestimated her powers. Gauging wind strength when casting a spell was a
difficult chore and a feat she’d yet to master.

Rain slashed
at them, and within seconds they were thoroughly soaked.

Griffin’s
muscles tensed beneath his doublet and linen shirt as he continued to struggle
to control the rampaging horse. She knew his work was made more difficult by
his concern for her. A momentary flash of conscience tore through her for
causing the storm in the first place.

Yet while
she couldn’t be sure of the way events might unfold this afternoon, she still
hoped for an opportunity to speak with him privately. A small rain shower had
seemed a perfect solution. She was not convinced of her wisdom now.

The horse
slowed. They were deep within the woods now. When Catlin finally lifted her
head to look about them, only trees and brush were visible, still obscured by
the slashing rain.

“We need to
find some shelter,” Griffin said. “There’s a hunting cabin up ahead. We can
duck in there until this weather passes.”

Catlin
nodded, although she suspected he was only informing her of his intentions, not
asking for her consent.

The horse
rounded a bend, and there was indeed a small cottage made of wattle and daub,
with a thatched roof and several tiny shuttered windows. A lean-to sat at the
side as they rode up a rough path overgrown with weeds. At least the horse
would have some shelter, too. Relief flickered through her. Leaving the poor
creature in the pouring rain seemed cruel.

Griffin
paused at the doorway to the cottage. “I’ll set you down here so you can go inside
and get out of this miserable tempest. There should be some dry wood within,
and perhaps you can find some linen toweling or a wool blanket.”

One strong
arm circled her waist as he gently pulled her from the saddle to set her upon
the ground. He handled her so easily, like a small child in his arms.

She shook
out her skirts and felt the bodkins pulling loose from securing her hair as she
tried to pat the rain from her head. Another clap of thunder sounded overhead,
and Catlin winced.

This storm
was a true riotous gale now, and she once again cursed her inability to control
her powers. When she finally arrived back at Mabley Hall, her eldest sister
would give her a severe lecture. An adept always recognized when another
elemental witch used her powers in the vicinity.