He said nothing, his gaze fixed on the floor between his feet. When he finally looked at her, his eyes were on fire.
“Damn it, Gillian.”
The air crackled.
She swallowed. “I said I was sorry.”
He stood and paced away. “Aye, I heard you. But what does it mean? You’ll just do it again the first opportunity you get.”
He was right. She should be honest with him. She took a step toward him, her hands twisting in her skirt. “It’s what I am, Nicholas. I’m a witch . . . it’s in my blood.”
He swept his hand across the cabinet before him, sending the silver tray, along with the enameled decanter and goblets, crashing to the floor. “No, it’s not!”
Gillian’s hands flew to her mouth. She stared at the broken decanter. A puddle of wine seeped rapidly into the fine Turkish carpet.
There was a knock on the door, and Gillian jumped.
Nicholas swung around to the door, hands fisted at his sides, latent violence emanating from him. “Go away!”
Fingernails scratched at the wood. “Uh . . . I left something in there.” Rose. “I need it.”
Gillian’s face flamed.Whydid her sister have to overhear Nicholas railing at her? Gillian dropped her hands from her face and smoothed them over her skirt.
The door opened and Rose peeked her head in. She gave Gillian an apologetic grimace and hurried to the chair where she’d sat at dinner. Her pouch was on thefloor beneath it. “Here it is.” She stood and glanced at Nicholas. He glared back at her. He looked demonic, black hair slipping loose to fall around his face, black whiskers stubbling his cheeks, standing barefoot in shirtsleeves before a stain of blood-red wine.
Rose took in the scene before her and said, “Did I mention I did the er . . . spell in the solar? Gillian had nothing to do with it.”
Nicholas gave her a tight and completely false closemouthed smile. “Aye, I believe you did.”
“Very well then.” She looked at Gillian with raised brows. “Need you anything, Gilly?”
Gillian managed a smile that matched her husband’s. “No, I’m fine. Good evening.”
When Rose was finally gone, Gillian braced herself for more of Nicholas’s rage. He stared down at the mess he’d made, hands on his hips and a rueful curve to his mouth.
“Nicholas?”
“You have a very brave and loyal sister. I think she believes I’m beating you in here.”
The tight set of Gillian’s shoulders relaxed. “Aye, she’s also overbearing and meddling . . . and she’s your sister now, too, since you married me.”
He crossed the room and put his hands on her shoulders. His grip was firm but not punishing. “No more spells. No more witchcraft. The servants are already whispering about you.”
His statement gave her an unpleasant jolt. “They are?”
“Aye, they’re saying you’re a witch and can’t be harmed.”
She looked away, a wave of anxiety washing over her.
“I had Evan remove the marks from the solar. No more witchcraft, Gillian. Promise me.”
Gillian stared at the rapid pulse in his throat. She couldn’t make that promise, especially now, when she was so close, when Rose might have actually broken the curse.
He tilted her chin up with his forefinger. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
She searched his dark eyes and saw that he was earnest. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to please him, so very badly . . . and yet sheneededto please herself.
She licked her lips. “Very well . . . I can’t promise, but I will do my best. And if I must, I will be very careful.”
