Ghostlight by Marion Zimmer Bradley Page A

burned with even brighter fire, giving her the look of a warrior priestess readying herself for battle.
    No , Truth decided reluctantly, gazing at her reflection. It was beautiful, but it wouldn’t be at all appropriate—not to mention the questions it would raise. With hesitant regret, she removed Blackburn’s necklace and stowed it back in the train case with the ring. A long silk scarf, knotted loosely about her throat, provided a poor—but adequate—substitute.

    I guess they’ll have to take me just as I am. Truth looked at her watch. Seven o’clock. Half an hour before the time Irene said they would all be gathering for dinner, and in all likelihood the evening would not be over until ten or later. Truth was glad she’d asked Irene to call the Bed-and-Breakfast for her and tell them she was already in town and would be arriving later tonight—she’d hate to get there and find out some stranger had ransomed her bed right out from under her.
    Anyway, she might as well go down now.
    She took a step toward the door and hesitated, then turned back. She’d left the contents of her suitcase scattered all over her bed—including Venus Afflicted. What if someone came in?
    She frowned, standing over the suitcase with a handful of sweaters. What if someone did come in—not that they ought to—and went through her suitcase, which was far beyond the pale of good manners but might still happen? She didn’t have the key to her suitcase, and she supposed the lock wouldn’t stop someone who was really determined anyway.
    She frowned, considering for a moment, then removed Venus Afflicted from inside the bundle of her robe. She should just put it somewhere—for safekeeping.
    Where?
    After a bit of thought, Truth slid the book between the mattress and the box spring, up near the head of the bed where a certain additional elevation of the mattress wouldn’t be noticed on a casual inspection. She smoothed the candlewick cover down again and dumped her clothes loosely back into the suitcase.
    In the doorway she stopped and took one last survey of the room. Everything looked perfectly innocent.
    Aunt Caroline always used to say: If something looks too good to be true, it probably is. Truth smiled, and squared her shoulders, and went down the stairs.

CHAPTER FIVE
    TRUTH AMONG SHADOWS
    Through the unheeding many he did move,
A splendour among shadows, a bright blot
Upon this gloomy scene, a Spirit that strove
For truth, and like the Preacher found it not.
    â€”PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY
    Â 
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    WHEN SHE REACHED THE TOP OF THE STAIRS, TRUTH saw that Julian was waiting for her on the landing. At the sight of him, Truth was glad she’d yielded to some martial impulse and dressed for dinner; Julian had shed his country-squire tweeds for what looked like an Armani suit in midnight silk. He smiled when he saw her.
    â€œAh, Truth. I was just coming to see if you were ready. We’re assembled in the parlor for preprandial sherry. Not that we’re usually so formal—it’s in your honor, you might say.”
    His gaze rested on her with obvious male approval, and Truth felt the heat rise in her cheeks again. What was it about the master of Shadow’s Gate that flustered her so? This wasn’t at all like her; she was always so cool and self-possessed, a creature of the mind, ruled by the mind and wary of emotional entrapment. No flighty Gothic heroine she!

    She came down the last few steps and Julian offered her his arm. Reluctantly Truth cudgeled her slothful brain into gear.
    â€œWho will I be meeting tonight, Julian?” She heard the faint quiver of nervousness in her voice and winced, but she couldn’t help herself. The thought of meeting a large group of people—let alone people who were obsessed with Thorne Blackburn—filled her with reflexive dread.
    He offered her his arm and she took it. The faint, elusive scent of male