Fascinated by Marissa Day Read Free Book Online Page B

The brothers, Gavin and Morris, might have ownership of the house and management of the money, but it was Aunt Hester who ruled the family, and she did not care who knew it.
    Any other morning, Carstairs might have been relieved by Hester’s absence, but now that he knew about Alicia’s enchantment, he found he wanted to speak to Aunt Hester and get a closer look at her keen eyes. For if anyone in this house knew what mystery surrounded Alicia, it was she.
    The door opened. Miss Hartwell jumped and turned in her seat at the same time. “Ali…Oh, it’s you, Verity. Where is Alicia?”
    “She’ll be down in a moment,” Verity replied.
    Carstairs got to his feet and made his bow to Alicia’s cousin. Verity was a slender girl of eighteen or so. Unlike most of the Hartwells, Verity was darkly complected, but she had a strength about her that took well to the color. She already carried herself with pride and assurance, and would grow, Carstairs was sure, into a formidable woman.
    As if to prove his observation, Verity gave Carstairs a brief curtsy, then sailed straight past her aunt to fix him with a hard glower.
    “The roses are in bloom in the garden,” Verity said, her eyes never wavering once from his. “Perhaps Lord Carstairs would be interested in seeing them?”
    “Verity, really—”
    Plainly, this was not the time to defer to the sensibilities of a timorous spinster. “Thank you, Miss Verity.” Carstairs bowed once more, effectively cutting off whatever protest Aunt Mary meant to make. “I would enjoy that.”
    “You’ll tell Alicia where we are, Aunt? Thank you.” Verity breezed out the French doors. Carstairs bowed again to Aunt Mary, who pressed her knotted handkerchief to her mouth as if she’d witnessed some ghastly horror. Then he followed Verity out into the garden.
    The garden of Hartwell House was large, and laid out with old-fashioned geometry, and the roses were indeed blooming. Verity did not make any effort to pay attention to them. Instead, she marched straight ahead, her eyes flitting this way and that as if she expected an ambush. This was not what he expected from oneof the very correct, very disapproving Hartwells. They were a thin, gray sort of family who lived in a strange air of either resignation or boredom, all except the three aunts, and Verity.
    As soon as they’d rounded a neatly trimmed box hedge, Verity turned and faced him.
    “I want your word.” Verity folded her arms. “Your word as a gentleman that you will take proper care of Alicia.”
    Carstairs folded his own arms, mirroring the girl’s defiant stance. The truth was, Carstairs wasn’t sure whether to be amused or insulted by her. But he was definitely surprised, and intrigued. “And who are you to demand any promise from a man not your relation?”
    “I’m the only person in this family who has ever cared about Alicia.” Verity stepped closer to him, her face tilted up to meet his. Carstairs, more than a little shocked, received the distinct impression she was spoiling for a fight. “And I swear, if you hurt her or neglect her in any fashion, I’ll
murder
you.”
    Carstairs’s urge to laugh at this bit of drama lasted only for a moment. There was genuine determination beneath Verity’s overwrought words. “Why?” he asked.
    “Why what?”
    “Why should you care about her? If, as you say, no one else in this family does?”
    That took Verity aback. “Because…because she’s Alicia. Because she’s had more difficulties than the rest of us, and no one even tries to help her.”
    “How so?” Aunt Mary might not be willing to talk about more than the weather, but this girl was plainly bursting at the seams for someone to confide in.
    For the first time, though, uncertainty crept into Verity’smanner. “I shouldn’t have spoken. I’ve probably ruined everything.” But there was something else in the back of her dark eyes. It tugged urgently at Carstairs’s attention. He needed to keep her