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But that look, that darkness behind the clear green eyes, haunted her. Was she imagining things, projecting her own unhappiness at the relationship between them on to him, manufacturing feelings for him he did not have? But he did not look happy—there was a tension about him even when he was joking with Sebastian or engaged in a barbed flirtation with Ana.
She watched, half her mind on him while she tried to keep up with Dr Herriot’s arguments. There he was, the man she loved, funny, brave, attractive, heart-stoppingly sensual, and she was sending him away. It was the right thing, of course it was. Only it seemed to be making neither of them very happy.
When the clocks struck midnight—a somewhat prolonged matter in a castle the size of Maubourg, despite the best efforts of the official clock-winder—Elinor was still awake.
She had gone up at eleven, washed and changed into her nightgown, thanked her maid and settled down in an armchair with an extravagant number of candles and a sensation novel from the pile that Eva had sent up. It had been a long day; she was convinced she would soon want to climb into bed. But despite the best efforts of the valiant heroine, trapped in a tower by her wicked guardian for reasons that were not entirely clear, she could neither concentrate on the tale nor fall asleep.
Assuming that he and Sebastian had not had another late-night session, Theo was in his bedchamber somewhere above her head. Was he asleep already, or reading? Perhaps he was planning the journey back to England with the Chalice, or his next buying trip, somewhere in Europe. Or perhaps he was sitting like she was, a book disregarded on his knee, just thinking.
Had that strange darkness gone from his eyes? Had he realised that he did not need to worry about her?
What she wanted, she realised, more than anything, was to be close to him. Not to do or say anything—what was there left to do or say? Just to be close.
Elinor scrambled out of bed and opened the clothes press, searching for something she could wear that she could fasten herself. The shabby old gown she had explored the chateau in was the only thing, and it was warm. Despite the time of year, it would be cool up on the battlements.
Tossing a drab cloak around her shoulders and pushing her feet into slippers, Elinor peered out of her door. Down at the far end of the corridor stood one of the guards who patrolled the castle night and day, but his back was to her. Soft-footed, she crept to the doorway Eva had pointed out and was through it without a sound.
The stairs spiralled up, opening out on to a paved walkway, perhaps ten foot wide, with the battlements on one side and a wall, broken by doors and small windows, on the other. There was no sound except the hoot of a hunting owl drifting over the river far below and distantly, faint music from the town. And all was dark, but for the spill of light from under one door and from around the edge of the heavily curtained window.
Theo was still awake, then. Elinor leaned against the door, flattening her cheek and her palm on the warm old wood as though against his body. She knew she could not stay there all night, sleeping across his threshold like a medieval page, but she did not want to leave.
Interspersed with the regular gaps of the battlements were darker areas, which proved to be alcoves with stone slabs for seats, perhaps to allow sentries to rest or shelter in bad weather. Wrapping her cloak tight around her Elinor sat down in one, put her feet up and leaned back. It was surprisingly comfortable and it gave her a clear view of Theo’s door. She would stay until he snuffed out his candles and then she would go back down to her own bed and try to sleep too.
How long she dozed there, warm in her corner with only a cold nose and toes to betray the deepening night, she had no idea. Nor was she sure what brought her completely awake. The light was still showing under Theo’s door, but there was no sound from within his room.
Then she heard it again, the brush of leather on stone as the sole of someone’s shoe met an uneven slab. The person halted. Elinor could sense, rather than hear, breathing and muffled her own in a fold of the cloak. She saw the person move across the spill of light from under the door, silk gown swishing faintly.
The door opened, throwing the woman into silhouette. Elinor craned to recognise who it was and saw, before she hid it in the folds of her skirt, the long blade in her right hand, sparking silver in the candlelight.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘Ana.’ Theo had recognised the intruder, but he had not seen the knife. His voice, just reaching Elinor, held only resignation and faint amusement. ‘What the devil…?’
She tore off her cloak and wriggled out of her niche, running without any attempt at concealment to the door, throwing her shoulder against it as Ana tried to close it from the inside.
The force of the push sent the other woman staggering off balance. Elinor swirled the heavy wool cloak in her hands and threw it, enveloping Ana in folds of cloth. ‘She’s got a knife,’ she gasped, trying to hang on to the flailing figure.
Theo seized her by the shoulders and pushed her unceremoniously into the corner of the room. ‘In that case, leave her to me.’ He dragged off the cloak and Ana emerged, blinking and furious.
‘You stupid little witch,’ she hissed at Elinor. ‘Sleep with him if you want. Do I care? I have had him, I do not want him back—so you take care not to attack me again or you will be sorry.’ She advanced towards them, the long knife glinting in her hand as she prodded it towards Elinor to emphasise every word.
‘Ana—’ Theo was edging to one side, attempting to keep his body between Elinor and the furious Spanish woman. ‘Put the knife down—we don’t want anyone to get hurt, do we?’
‘Don’t we?’ she enquired ominously, then tossed the weapon on to the bed where it lay, its hilt glittering with gemstones. ‘Bah! You could not peel an apple with that thing.’ She kicked the cloak to one side and stood, hands on hips, belligerently regarding Theo, and Elinor, who was trying to push past him.
‘You English are mad. I come here to deliver that thing to you for the count. He says you deserve something from the treasure—and I have something for you, too, only I did not expect you to be up here.’ She scowled at Elinor, who sat down with a thud on Theo’s chair.
He picked up the dagger, turning it over in his hands, then studying the hilt closely. ‘Just for show, see, the blade is dull.’ He ran his thumb down it. ‘It must have been brandished during their rituals. If the stones are genuine, it is worth a great deal of money.’ Ana had sauntered over to the dresser and was pouring herself a glass of wine from the decanter that stood there. ?
??I suppose it was too much to hope you might have given it to me during the hours of daylight?’
‘I did not want anyone to see.’ She tossed back the wine. ‘How do I know if you can trust your cousins?’
‘Then thank you for bringing it. What did he send Elinor?’
‘A platter, a small one, but good work. You can have it tomorrow.’
‘I would not want anything from that place.’ Elinor shuddered, thinking about the scenes those glittering objects must have been used in.
