from laughing. “Well, Mr. Ogilvy, I do hope ye enjoy yer stay in Dundaire.”
“As do I, sir. Which I’m sure I will, should my time here prove to be uneventful.”
Lord, take me now. She needn’t worry about sinister entities that may or may not be lurking within the walls of Lycansay Hall, she had her own little beast who was on the verge of undoing her. “You’ll have to forgive my brother, Lord Lycansay. He’s only a boy of twelve.” Take that little man. She was not going to let Nevan destroy their one chance at rebuilding a life for themselves.
Lycansay smiled at her. He leaned in, brought his lips close to her ear, a hint of clove and spice filling the space between them. “While I dunnae have a brother, I do have a younger cousin. I completely ken.”
At least the man was accommodating, further proving he was not the devil Nevan believed him to be. “Thank you.”
Lycansay stepped back. He nodded to the man who’d followed him down the front walkway. “This is Mr. Tipton, Lycansay Hall’s butler.”
The aged man offered a slight bow of his balding head, but said nothing.
Sarina stared at Tipton’s eyes. To call them blue was a stretch as they were more the white hue of ice than the shade of sky.
A chill crept up her spine.
“Shall we go inside?” Lycansay swept his arm out, his hand motioning toward the house.
“That would be lovely,” she said, joining the marquis as he started back up the walk heading for the house.
Two steps forward and a crash shattered the air behind her. Sarina spun around.
Nevan cursed.
Teeth littered the ground, their sterling silver box now completely open. “For the love of heaven, Nevan.” She started to crouch.
Lycansay stopped her midway down. “Please, allow me, Miss Ogilvy.” But before the marquis could help Nevan gather the spilled teeth, a groom rushed in and started picking up the scattered items.
“My brother and his toys.” Sarina prayed her tone was nonchalant enough to brush off any questions she could only imagine Lord Lycansay must have formed upon seeing the odd collection her brother toted around.
Lycansay offered Sarina his arm. “Shall we?”
She gladly accepted and left Nevan to picking up his cursed trinkets. The farther away she was from those bloody teeth, the better off she felt.
“How was yer trip, Miss Ogilvy? I trust the inns ye stayed in were accommodating and the carriage comfortable?”
“They were, sir. And thank you for the use of your carriage. It was a very pleasant surprise, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
The marquis beamed. “I am glad it was put to good use as I dunnae tend to travel much, which leaves the larger coach to collect dust most days.”
The man was simply charming, thought Sarina. Definitely not the Devil. Not in the slightest. And to think mere weeks ago she actually believed Lycansay Hall to be a wicked, evil place thanks to those letters where her father had mentioned the vile incidents he’d experienced here. The rambling house was simply one man’s home. Nothing better, nothing worse. “Just crumbling stones,” she whispered to no one as she glanced at the dwelling.
A low growl rumbled through the air.
Sarina’s gaze flew to the windows above the Hall’s front doors, her heart pounding.
The house had its eyes on her.
“Sarina.”
She froze as the last remnants of a disembodied voice fluttered at her ears.
Lycansay stopped and turned to face her. “Is something wrong, Miss Ogilvy?”
She couldn’t well tell him she thought his treasured home had just spoken her name. “No. Not at all, my lord.”
Lycansay resumed walking, continuing to lead Sarina toward the house.
As they approached the open double doors, she noted two niches, one on either side of the entrance. Both contained chiseled reliefs in marble of what appeared to be Roman figures. The one on the right, the one of a woman, bore a brass plaque inscribed with the name MARIAH under its feet.
Wind howled in the distance.
Sarina shivered.
A ghostly laugh licked at her ears, it’s screech sending goosebumps up her arms.
Lycansay didn’t seem to have heard the cackle as he simply kept walking.
Sarina swallowed. Refusing to acknowledge the noise, she headed up the front stone steps with yet another fake smile slapped across her lips.
Silly girl. Houses were not privy to a human’s fears, for buildings were not living, breathing things.
At least she hoped they weren’t. Especially not this one because if it was, she had the distinct feeling it was going to plague her