Wicked Liaison - Meara Platt Page 0,123

the pine soap he fancied. But Campbell’s scent stirred her to core. It brought out a heated wickedness in her she was almost too embarrassed to admit she even had. Just the thought of seeing Campbell again made her cheeks warm, which was why it was probably a good thing she had this time before dinner to herself. Focusing on anything other than Campbell’s sinful kisses helped put out the fire he’d ignited in her.

Looking up, she stared at a portrait that bore a brass plaque etched with the name Albert MacHendrie, tenth Marquis of Lycansay.

Campbell’s father.

The resemblance between the two men made them appear as if they could have been twins, they were so similar. But something in Albert’s stare differed from the warmth she found in Campbell’s eyes.

She went on to the next portrait, a painting of Albert’s father. Dressed in a formal suit that included a kilt, the older marquis leaned his arm on a marble pedestal that carried a red-fringed Roman legionary helmet on top and a Roman soldier’s breast plate at the bottom. A snarling wolf lingered in the background.

Cold stoked Sarina’s spine.

She spun around.

“The MacHendrie line of Lycansay Hall has a rich heritage,” Tipton said, entering the gallery. His usual outfit of black tails pristinely pressed as ever.

“Have you worked for the family long?” She couldn’t help but ask the question as the Englishman wasn’t what she had expected of a butler.

“My family has served the MacHendries for over sixteen-hundred years.”

Shock snaked through her nerves. “That’s a long, rich history in itself, Tipton. As well as loyal.”

The man offered a broad smile as he stepped closer. “I’m proud to serve Lord Lycansay. He’s a good man with a warm heart and a selfless soul.”

“Did you know him as a boy?”

“I served his father, first, so yes. I took over as butler when my great-uncle retired, which was under the last marquis.”

A softer hue of blue shaded Tipton’s eyes as he spoke, the soothing color easing Sarina’s previous apprehensions about the man. “My father tended to move around a lot as his expeditions had him crossing the globe many times. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have roots so ingrained in one place.” She walked further down the gallery.

“My family hails from London,” Tipton said. “As do I. But there has always been at least one of us here at Lycansay Hall since ancient times. Our connection to the family began with a mid-wife.”

Turning away from studying the portrait of Campbell’s father, Sarina glanced at Tipton. “Your family must have kept very good records to still recount those details.”

Tipton nodded. “The story of our two bloodlines is a combination of tangible proof and tales retold through generations. As far as I know, back when Rome controlled parts of Britain, Mariah MacHendrie met and fell in love with Tacitus Octavianus Creticus, a soldier who rose from humble milites to Praefectus Castrorum. The two married in secret and soon Mariah found herself with child.”

“I wasn’t aware Rome had conquered lands this far north.”

“They hadn’t. Tacitus was stationed along the Vallum Antonini. Mariah met him while visiting friends.”

She recalled the woman’s name from the chiseled effigy bordering the Hall’s front doors. “Did Mariah die in childbirth?” It was an odd question for a stranger to ask, but Sarina needed an answer to her damn dream.

“She did. It was my ancestor who saved her son, took the boy back to the MacHendrie clan.”

“Why not leave him with Tacitus?”

Tipton lowered his gaze. “The man was murdered by his own men. He’d abandoned the Legion to be with his beloved wife when the time came for her to have their child. The boy would have been killed as well, had it not been for my ancestor.”

Such pain thought Sarina. “Nevan’s mother died in childbirth, but at least he still had me and Father. Though Father did travel a lot.”

“No soul is without at least one cross to bear,” Tipton commented.

In the bigger scheme of things, she supposed that was true as there had been many ups and downs in her own life. But the more troubling notion was the fact she hadn’t yet known what was yet for her to discover here in Dundaire. And up until now, all the macabre and strange events that had shaped her life, had been manageable. Even the most harrowing of them.

And right now she didn’t care to think of what shadowed events were yet to come.

Chapter 10

With her mind—and heart—consumed with

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