Veil of Shadows Read online

  Veil of Shadows

  Chasity Bowlin

  Contents

  Also by Chasity Bowlin

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Author’s Note

  Also by Chasity Bowlin

  About the Author

  Also by Chasity Bowlin

  THE DARK REGENCY SERIES, PART ONE

  The Haunting of a Duke

  The Redemption of a Rogue

  The Enticement of an Earl

  THE DARK REGENCY SERIES, PART TWO

  A Love So Dark

  A Passion So Strong

  A Heart So Wicked

  STANDALONE

  The Beast of Bath

  The Last Offer

  Worth the Wait

  THE LOST LORDS SERIES

  The Lost Lord of Castle Black

  The Vanishing of Lord Vale

  The Missing Marquess of Althorn

  The Resurrection of Lady Ramsleigh

  The Mystery of Miss Mason

  The Awakening of Lord Ambrose (coming soon)

  THE VICTORIAN GOTHIC COLLECTION

  House of Shadows

  Veil of Shadows

  Passage of Shadows (coming soon)

  AND COMING IN 2019, A NEW SERIES FROM

  CHASITY BOWLIN AND DRAGONBLADE PUBLISHING:

  The Hellion Club

  Copyright © 2018 by Chasity Bowlin

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For my wonderful readers… Thank you all for joining me on this journey as I branch out and write something atypical for me.

  1

  Darkness had come to Cysgod Lys early. A storm was brewing. Heavy clouds gathered over the towering spires and battlements of the house, and in the distance beyond, the blue-green waters of the sea had taken on the same dark hue of the sky as they churned and crashed. The very air was taut with impending violence and destruction.

  Standing in the morning room that had become her sanctuary, Adelaide stared out the window and felt a frisson of fear snaking along her spine. Things had been eerily calm of late. From the horrible night when they had discovered the gruesome murder of Mrs. Alberson and the subsequent removal of Eldren’s mother to an asylum in London, Cysgod Lys had been like any other grand estate. No shifting shadows or whispers, no inexplicable occurrences that challenged one’s senses or threatened one’s sense of what was real and what was not.

  In many ways, that was worse. She’d said as much to Dyllis that morning when the maid had been dressing her hair. Walking on eggshells the maid had called it, and indeed that was precisely what it felt like. It made her question all that had come before. Had it been her imagination? Had the strain of her recent traumas and the many changes in her life compromised her ability to interpret the world around her? But it wasn’t simply her. Eldren had been effected, as well. They all had.

  The doors opened and Adelaide sighed. Before she even turned around, she knew that it was Frances. She could smell the cloying perfume that the other woman favored. It invaded her sense and robbed her of any hope for a pleasant morning.

  “There you are,” Frances said. “I’ve been searching all over for you.”

  “Clearly, I am not in hiding. Not effectively at any rate,” Adelaide responded. Sparing a glance at the other woman, she noted the quirk of Frances’ cool amusement at her reply.

  Frances cold, snapping tone was instantaneous. “Another quip. Your banal wit might pass for charm amongst the brash upstarts and nouveau riche of New York, but you’ll find we’re not quite so easily entertained here.”

  “Is there something you wanted, Frances?” Adelaide asked. She hadn’t the patience to tolerate an endless exchange of barbs with her sister in law.

  “I was actually hoping to speak to Eldren about this, but he’s made himself notoriously scarce. Why is that? Not trouble in your newly wedded paradise, I hope?”

  Not trouble precisely. Still, they had not parted on the best of terms that morning, but then Frances would be aware of that as she seemed to be aware of everything that occurred within the house. Deciding not to be baited by her, Adelaide cut right to the heart of it, “What is is that you need of him?”

  “Well, as you know, I am with child and I must begin making preparations for the joyous occasion of my son’s birth,” Frances said. The superiority and the smugness of her tone were undeniable.

  “You are certain of the child’s sex, Frances.”

  “Just a feeling that I have,” Frances replied. “But the nursery is in terrible repair and must be addressed.”

  It was surely something Frances could have waited to bring up with Eldren. But then, it would have denied her the opportunity to once more throw her impending motherhood in Adelaide’s face. “You may do what you wish with the nursery, Frances, so long as it does not involve ripping out walls or changing the actual structure of the house. The wall coverings, the carpets and the furnishings can be altered as you wish.”

  “Well, as you know, Adelaide, Warren and I do not have the same degree of ready wealth—.”

  And naturally, it was about money. Frances spent freely and always charged whatever she chose to the estate. Her asking permission was nothing more than lip service at best. “You may charge it to the estate and it will be taken care of. If that is all, Frances, I find that I am suffering from an aching head and attempts at conversation are only making it worse.”

  Frances’ eyebrows shot up. “Perhaps you are with child, as well then. That was one of my first symptoms, Adelaide. An aching head and terrible nausea! How wonderful it would be for us to share such a thing and for our children to be raised up together.”

  Of course she was not with child. Despite the many pleasures she had shared with her husband, one was still denied her. She had yet to experience the wonder of becoming Eldren’s wife in every way. He had held to his word and refrained from making love to her fully and risking that their passion might bear fruit. Naturally, the servants were aware. They knew everything. In turn, Frances did as well.

  “I don’t think so. Excuse me, Frances,” Adelaide said. Turning to look once more through the double doors that led onto the terrace, Adelaide impulsively opened them and stepped outside. Despite the gathering storm and the briskness of the air, the wind whipping at her hair and her clothes felt freeing in that moment. Lifting her face up into the wind, she stepped down from the terrace and onto the damp grass. Without conscious thought of where she was going, Adelaide simply walked, placing one foot in front of the other. She needed distance. And she needed peace, desperately.

  The further she moved away from the house, from Frances, from the weight of everything that passed between herself and Eldren that morning, Adelaide felt she could at least breathe. Her current circumstances pressed so heavily upon her that even the horrors of her past had faded into the distance of her memory. It wasn’t until her feet touched the sand that she realized her steps had carried her toward the beach and the ocean she so desperately feared. Adelaide stoppe
d then, her feet rooted to the spot and her eyes scanning the dark crashing waves as memories swamped her.

  * * *

  Eldren stared out the window of the carriage as it rolled along. He’d walked out of his office at the train yards, leaving behind reports from his attorney, streams of ticker tape from the Exchange, and even contracts for a new venture in Ireland. All of it had been placed before him and none of it had managed to penetrate his mind. His thoughts were still completely occupied with what had transpired in his bedchamber that morning. In the end, he’d given up, his mind preoccupied with all that had transpired that morning.

  It had started, as so many of their mornings did, with Adelaide naked and pressed against him, their bodies straining with passion. As always, he had held himself back from her, taking her to the heights of passion and denying himself so much. Then she had whispered those words, those cursedly tempting words. Make love to me. Make me yours.

  He had wanted it. He’d wanted her more than he wanted his next breath, and more than he had wanted to avoid the complications and sure disaster that would follow if he gave in. For just a moment, he’d wanted to say to hell with all of it and just take her, to sink into the welcoming heat of her body and lose himself inside her. But in the end, a maid’s giggle in the hallway had brought reality crashing in on them. They were not alone in the house. And the choices he made there, personal as they were, would have far-reaching consequences for many.

  But for the house stirring about them that morning, he would have forgotten the vow he had made and the responsibilities of it that had come crashing down upon him then. All the reasons why their marriage could not be what she needed, what she deserved, were suddenly there at the forefront of his mind again.

  In that moment, he’d sprung from the bed, using physical distance and the chill of the room to still the raging of his pulse and the aching need that had filled him.

  She’d sat up in the bed, the sheet clutched to her breasts and had stared at him, hurt and confused. “Don’t you want that, Eldren? Don’t you want me?”

  “I can’t,” he said. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

  “Does it matter what I want?” she’d asked.

  He’d looked at her then and uttered a single word that inflicted far more pain upon her than she’d ever deserved. “No.”

  With that, he’d turned and left, going to bathe and dress for the day. He’d heard her tears, soft as they were, and every one had cut him like a razor, deep and stinging.

  Cursing under his breath, Eldren banged on the roof of the carriage and it slowed to a halt, easing off to the side of the lane. He’d fled like a coward that morning and now he needed to face her, to apologize and explain and attempt to repair the tenuous bond between them that he had shattered. But he needed a moment first. He needed to collect himself before then.

  “Drive on,” he said. “I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

  If the driver thought it odd, he said nothing, simply nodded and continued on toward the house. Eldren strolled along the lane, ignoring the cold drizzle of misting rain. It was a delay, a temporary reprieve. He knew that he had hurt her, just as he knew that the things she wanted were the things she should want from him. They were also the things he wanted to give her, and yet circumstances prevented it. He could say he was sorry, but ultimately, it changed nothing.

  There were dozens of what ifs in their relationship. If things were different, if the weight of his family’s dark legacy was not pressing down on him, he would give her the world—and a house full of children to ease the loneliness he sensed in her.

  As he walked, he found himself inexplicably diverging from the main road and onto the smaller path that led to the beach. The sound of the crashing waves mimicked his own dark mood and cursed thoughts. But as he emerged onto the beach, his gaze was drawn to the lone figure standing at the water’s edge. The gray of her skirts clutched in her hand and the black velvet of her perfectly tailored coat mirrored the darkening sky and frothing water.

  “Adelaide?”

  She said nothing. Her eyes were focused straight ahead, fixed on the water. It was the pallor of her skin, that and the complete stillness of her, more than anything else that alerted him to just how wrong things were. Crossing the expanse of sand, he reached her and took her hands. “Adelaide?” he repeated. At last, she looked up at him.

  “I just started walking… I didn’t realize this was where I would end up.”

  Her explanation was stammered. Her lips were beginning to turn blue from the cold and her skin was like ice. “You’ve been out here far too long. Let’s go back to the house.”

  “No,” she said. “Not yet. I’ve been standing here for the longest time, trying to muster up my courage to just walk to the water’s edge. Now, that I’ve done it, I’m not quite ready to give it up yet.”

  He looked down at her bare feet in the water. It was freezing. Her stockings and boots lay discarded in the sand a few feet away.

  “It’s too soon, Adelaide. It’s only been six weeks since the Mohegan sank. You do not have to do this today,” he said.

  “I didn’t intend to,” she admitted. “But I had another one of those horribly veiled conversations with Frances and I just needed to get away. I found myself here.”

  “And you decided to face your fears entirely on your own. I would have come with you, Adelaide. You do not have to do these things alone,” he said softly. Damn Frances and her constant needling. He felt as haunted by her as he did by any spirits at Cysgod Lys.

  She looked up at him, wide-eyed and quite adamant. “But I do… Eldren, I can’t be afraid. Not of this and not of whatever it is that is lurking in the halls of that house! If I don’t start facing my fears now, they will consume me!”

  There was an accusation there. He felt it and heard it, but it wasn’t an unfounded one. “As mine have consumed me?”

  “I’ve no wish to fight with you… what happened this morning—I think you’re wrong, Eldren. I think your fears are crippling us both in that regard. But we had an agreement and I will abide by it. I won’t ask again,” she offered in a soft, thin voice.

  It was clear that the heavy wound to her pride was still stinging. But it was the wound he might have inflicted upon her heart that worried him more.

  “I wish I could give you what you wanted,” he admitted.

  “I hope that one day we will be able to put enough of this behind us that we can both have what we want,” she replied. “But that will only come if we begin facing our fears. One at a time. And that begins now.”

  “My fear is that you will catch your death of cold. The water is freezing. Come away now,” he urged.

  She did then, reluctantly allowing him to lead her from the water’s edge back up onto the beach. He paused long enough to grab her discarded stockings and boots. They stopped again at a large outcropping of rock where she sat and he helped her to don the garments and footwear once more.

  “I shouldn’t have left as I did this morning,” he said. “But I was afraid to stay.”

  “Why would you be afraid?” she asked.

  “Because what you wanted from me this morning, Adelaide, is not something that I am incapable of giving you. But it’s something that would be terribly imprudent of us. And while my intentions and my desires are at cross purposes, I am doing all that I can to maintain my honor and not foist the curses of this family onto an innocent child.”

  “There is no guarantee that a child would result from such a union,” Adelaide insisted.

  “No, but it is a risk too great to take.”

  “There are ways to mitigate such a risk,” Adelaide said. “I’ve been reading about them in the books and pamphlets that Lottie sent me.”

  “That woman will be the death of me,” he said, looping the last of the buttons on her right boot.

  “There are devices that can be worn,” Adelaide continued. “Of course, you would have to obtain them.”

  French letters. His lu
sty but still virginal wife was discussing condoms with him. Freely. If ever he had questioned whether or not American women and Welsh or English women were intrinsically different, that conversation would be the only answer he needed. Bold. Brazen. Willing to take risks for what she wanted, Adelaide was remarkable.

  “I would. It would only solve part of the problem, Adelaide… Such a device would allow me to make love to you, but it would prevent conception. I’ve seen the longing in your eyes when Frances talks about her child. I know that is what you want,” he said.

  “I want many things,” she admitted. “I want to have a husband and know him in all the ways that a wife should. And yes, I do want children. And perhaps one day, when this has all been settled, we can. But I see no reason why we should have to limit one in order to limit the other… not when there are such clever inventions out there that would permit it to be otherwise.”

  If she was willing to entertain such a thing, he would not be foolish enough to deny her. Whatever stance the church took on such things, he could not help but feel taking any precautions necessary to avoid bringing a child into the dark and dangerous world they currently inhabited was the right thing to do. “It will take some time. Such things are not readily available in a town such as Machynlleth.”

  “London?”

  “Not so far as that,” he said. “Chester, perhaps, though I would need to make discreet inquiries.”

  “Then you should do so,” she said. “As soon as possible.”

  Eldren didn’t vocalize his response. He couldn’t. Instead he simply nodded.