anything to eat, and merely prodded her food about.
“I heard that Clarissa locked you in the crypt yesterday.” She shivered fiercely. “I’m so sorry. It’s such a horrible experience. And Bruce was furious. He was like a beast this morning, swearing we must all take care that such things should not happen again.”
“It was not so horrible.” Elaina looked doubtful. “Really, it was all right. I was in with Mary, Elaina. Not a lot of ancient bodies.”
Elaina shivered again. “Bruce said that you had awful nightmares in the night. I imagine he’ll find Clarissa and speak with her. It seemed that he was about to explode.”
It seemed that he was about to explode …
How furious could he be with Clarissa? The girl was beautiful, really beautiful, and very young. And her adoration for Bruce Creeghan was obvious.
“It’s not so serious as all that,” Martise said. She tasted a bite of her food, stew again, but delightfully different, a mixture of fish and shellfish in a cream sauce. She looked across the table. Elaina was still playing with her food. “I really am all right. It’s you I worry about,” Martise said.
Elaina started, staring at her. She set down her fork and folded her hands in her lap. “Why?”
“This is none of my business, of course,” Martise said, but she rushed on, not giving Elaina a chance to tell her that her words were true. “It broke my heart to see you when I came in just now. You looked so sad. Is there anything at all that I could do for you?”
Elaina simply stared at her. Martise thought that the girl was highly attractive, slim and lithe, with her beautiful green eyes and startling dark hair and fine features. And she came from such a distinguished—and affluent—family.
“Please!” Elaina murmured. “You mustn’t say anything to Bruce. He gets so upset when I … when I brood.”
Martise frowned. If Bruce Creeghan had betrayed any emotion whatsoever, it had been for his sister. “I certainly won’t say anything to anyone,” Martise assured her. “It’s just that I hate to see you suffer. If I could do something—”
Elaina shook her head. “There’s nothing anyone can do. I just wait. I’ve got no choice.” The last sounded desperate. She met Martise’s eyes with a trace of moisture flooding her own. “And you are here. My God, your war has ended, long ago now …”
Confused, Martise shook her head. “It hasn’t been that long,” she said. “General Lee surrendered in April, but Edmund Kirby-Smith fought on awhile and they say that some troops didn’t know the war had ended until it was over for weeks. Months even. I don’t understand—”
“Then we must enlighten you.”
It wasn’t Elaina who spoke, but Bruce Creeghan. Martise hadn’t heard him arrive. But he was there, walking toward them at the table, then walking around the head to his sister’s seat and bending down to kiss her cheek. When his gaze flickered over Martise, she felt a glacial chill. He kept his temper well in control, but she could always feel his anger, feel it simmering beneath the exterior he so often offered them all.
Perhaps he did not pretend with his family. Elaina said he had been furious that morning. Perhaps he had ranted and raved then, the true ancient chieftain, supreme in his world.
Or maybe he was newly angered now, watching her, condemning her, as if she asked questions which were surely none of her concern. As if she had set her nose into his life and had no right to be doing so.
Martise lifted her chin. Mary was dead. She had her rights.
“Enlighten me, then,” she said.
He pulled back his chair and sat watching her.
“I’m glad you find the family so intriguing, Lady St. James,” he said.
“Bruce,” Elaina murmured uncomfortably.
“I’ve a brother still in America,” Bruce said sharply.
“What?” Martise said, startled.
“My younger brother, Bryan. He went to school in America. He became friends with any number of
“I heard that Clarissa locked you in the crypt yesterday.” She shivered fiercely. “I’m so sorry. It’s such a horrible experience. And Bruce was furious. He was like a beast this morning, swearing we must all take care that such things should not happen again.”
“It was not so horrible.” Elaina looked doubtful. “Really, it was all right. I was in with Mary, Elaina. Not a lot of ancient bodies.”
Elaina shivered again. “Bruce said that you had awful nightmares in the night. I imagine he’ll find Clarissa and speak with her. It seemed that he was about to explode.”
It seemed that he was about to explode …
How furious could he be with Clarissa? The girl was beautiful, really beautiful, and very young. And her adoration for Bruce Creeghan was obvious.
“It’s not so serious as all that,” Martise said. She tasted a bite of her food, stew again, but delightfully different, a mixture of fish and shellfish in a cream sauce. She looked across the table. Elaina was still playing with her food. “I really am all right. It’s you I worry about,” Martise said.
Elaina started, staring at her. She set down her fork and folded her hands in her lap. “Why?”
“This is none of my business, of course,” Martise said, but she rushed on, not giving Elaina a chance to tell her that her words were true. “It broke my heart to see you when I came in just now. You looked so sad. Is there anything at all that I could do for you?”
Elaina simply stared at her. Martise thought that the girl was highly attractive, slim and lithe, with her beautiful green eyes and startling dark hair and fine features. And she came from such a distinguished—and affluent—family.
“Please!” Elaina murmured. “You mustn’t say anything to Bruce. He gets so upset when I … when I brood.”
Martise frowned. If Bruce Creeghan had betrayed any emotion whatsoever, it had been for his sister. “I certainly won’t say anything to anyone,” Martise assured her. “It’s just that I hate to see you suffer. If I could do something—”
Elaina shook her head. “There’s nothing anyone can do. I just wait. I’ve got no choice.” The last sounded desperate. She met Martise’s eyes with a trace of moisture flooding her own. “And you are here. My God, your war has ended, long ago now …”
Confused, Martise shook her head. “It hasn’t been that long,” she said. “General Lee surrendered in April, but Edmund Kirby-Smith fought on awhile and they say that some troops didn’t know the war had ended until it was over for weeks. Months even. I don’t understand—”
“Then we must enlighten you.”
It wasn’t Elaina who spoke, but Bruce Creeghan. Martise hadn’t heard him arrive. But he was there, walking toward them at the table, then walking around the head to his sister’s seat and bending down to kiss her cheek. When his gaze flickered over Martise, she felt a glacial chill. He kept his temper well in control, but she could always feel his anger, feel it simmering beneath the exterior he so often offered them all.
Perhaps he did not pretend with his family. Elaina said he had been furious that morning. Perhaps he had ranted and raved then, the true ancient chieftain, supreme in his world.
Or maybe he was newly angered now, watching her, condemning her, as if she asked questions which were surely none of her concern. As if she had set her nose into his life and had no right to be doing so.
Martise lifted her chin. Mary was dead. She had her rights.
“Enlighten me, then,” she said.
He pulled back his chair and sat watching her.
“I’m glad you find the family so intriguing, Lady St. James,” he said.
“Bruce,” Elaina murmured uncomfortably.
“I’ve a brother still in America,” Bruce said sharply.
“What?” Martise said, startled.
“My younger brother, Bryan. He went to school in America. He became friends with any number of
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