“No portrait.”
“I’ll paint another. She sent some of her smaller canvases.”
He smiled up at her, and that smile still made her belly tumble and her knees go slightly weak. “Paint what you want. I’m sure you can find better subjects than me. Ah! Letters.”
She looked down and saw he held three letters. “From whom?”
“This is from King, and this is also from King, and this is from Rory.”
It turned out the first letter from King was quite outdated, having been first sent to Carlisle’s London town house and then forwarded to the dower house. Carlisle read it, then summarized it. “He’s asking for blunt. I promised him I’d win at the tables and get him out of Seven Dials. He was hiding from his creditors in a tavern there. Turns out I didn’t help either of us.” His jaw tightened, and she could see Carlisle’s inability to help his friend, his reduced circumstances, pained him.
She put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to comfort him. “What does the other say?” Carlisle opened it and read it, then passed it to Katie. She read it, then looked at her husband. “He received the counter-spell as well. Only his piece was shorter than yours.”
“Did you read where he agreed it was more than mere coincidence that bad luck befell both of us on our birthdays?”
“I did.” But privately she thought it would be difficult for even a witch to arrange for the Marquess of Kingston’s father to turn traitor and be found guilty in the Lords. Just as the witch didn’t force Carlisle to gamble away his property. The timing was curious, but was it magic? A curse? “You will have to write him back and ask him to come here. He awaits your reply and wants to meet to discuss future steps.”
“Let’s see what Rory has to say.” Carlisle ripped open the letter from the younger son of the Duke of Tralee. “He hasn’t received anything,” he said. “But this letter is weeks old and written immediately upon his return from the Continent. Hemight have something by now. He also says,As to the timing of the calamities that befell yourself and King, I can only point to my own calamity. I think you will recall the events that transpired on my own thirtieth birthday last year.”
“His thirtieth birthday is when he lost his wife?” she asked.
“He lost his wife and son. They were killed when their carriage went off the road and tumbled down an embankment. Only his daughter survived. The family had been traveling from London to Devon to visit Rory for his birthday.”
Katie reached for a chair and sat. “I’m so sorry for him.”
Carlisle looked off in the distance. She could see the sorrow on his face, but he looked calmer than he had in days. Lately, she had noticed he seemed agitated and restless. Carlisle lifted the letter and stared at it. “King and I went to him as soon as we heard. I’d never seen him like that. He was like one of those automatons you pay to see in an exhibit hall in Covent Garden. He moved and he spoke, but he wasn’t alive. He left for the Continent immediately after the funeral.”
“What of his daughter?”
“She was sent to her grandparents.”
“The poor child.”
“There’s more,” he said, indicating the letter. “He says,I know some are tempted to attribute these incidents to coincidence. I think you know my position on the matter.”
She was one of the people who had considered what had happened to the men nothing more than bad luck. “His position?” she asked.
“He won’t put it on paper, but Rory believes in witches. He believes in the curse. I’m beginning to believe as well.”
“You need to see them, both of them.”
He nodded. “I’ll write them and ask when they can come. I’ll press for a meeting before the end of the year.”
“What can I do?” she asked, rising and putting her hand on his shoulder.
“Nothing.” He was already sitting at the desk they used for correspondence and searching for paper. “Will you tell the cook to send dinner in? I have much to do in here.”
“Of course,” she said. Katie went to the door, and when she looked back at Carlisle, his head was down and his thoughts seemed far, far away.
That night, when he came to bed, Katie opened her eyes. They often retired together, but when she retired early, he usually pulled her close and whispered teasing words.
She turned toward him, waiting for him to reach for her, but he lay on his side, his back to her.
Chapter Twenty
Two days later,Katie gathered her paints and trekked to a spot with a view of the keep. She set up her canvas and smiled as she worked. From this vantage point, the keep seemed to rise from the hill like a sleeping giant, with the sun illuminating it from above. The wind blew her hair and her skirts and threatened to topple her easel, but she’d found rocks to anchor it in place. She was just mixing lighter gray for the stones of the turret when she heard the clip-clop of horses’ hooves. She looked over her shoulder and spotted Carlisle approaching.
She gave him a bright smile to hide her worry. For the last couple of days, he had been distant and remote. He’d continued to stay up until the wee hours of the morning, and when he climbed into bed beside her, he did not reach for her. At dinner, he ate little of the meal the cook prepared, even though the food was very good.
