Page 11 of Lady Tamsyn and the Pixie's Curse
Morris shrugged. “There are different accounts. Some say that the knockers got to him while he was down there and he was never quite rightafterwards.”
“Knockers?”
“Pixies, my lady. Sprites who live in the mines and knock to warn the men ofdanger.”
“Oh.”
“Most tales agree that he left town and made his fortune, only to come back and become one of the wealthy local landowners. His family flourished here for generations, although I think they’ve diedoutnow.”
“Thank you, Morris.” She regarded the collection thoughtfully. “This part of the country is truly full of strange tales, isitnot?”
“Yes, my lady. Strange and wonderful, to manyofus.”
She wondered, would someone sometime speak of the earl’s daughter who sawvisions?
He slid away and Tamsyn breathed deeply, collected herself and turned back to the gatheredguests.
She eased into a small group containing her sisters Rose and Gwyn. Their chatter kept the mood light and she began to relax—until shefeltsomething . . .wrong. She glanced about. This—this was not a small untruth, but something else altogether—and it was comingcloser.
She was watching the doorway when a man wandered into the pre-dinner gathering and Tamsyn gasped out loud. Her father greeted him and began to introduce him about. Mr. Lucien de Roye was suave and utterly handsome—but somethingelsehung over him like a shroud. A dark, menacing presence—and it knew at once that Tamsyn had spotted it. It leered, swirling larger and darker and grinning while it beckoned her with tendrils ofsmoke.
“I . . . I . . . Excuse me.” She retreated and took a step over to her mother, her eyes locked on the glowing pair that followed hermovements.
Oh heavens, they were drawingnearer.
“Mama?Mama. . .I. . .”
“Tamsyn, dear, are you all right? You are as white as asheet.”
“I can’t. I must go . . . I’msorry!”
She fled, terrified of the horrible creature attached to Mr. de Roye—and of her strange new affliction. Shaking, she ran blindly until she reached an intersection—and collided with a tall,sturdyform.
Gryff! She knew him at once and instinctively reached out—but then she gasped and covered her eyes. Whatever it was that he hid from the world—she had no wish toseeit.
“Tamsyn? What is it? What’s wrong?” He grabbed her shoulders. She burrowed close and buried her face in his chest. She couldn’t get those burning eyes out ofherhead.
“What is it?” She could feel him turning slightly to scan the corridors. “What’sfrightenedyou?”
“I don’t know! It is this place! It’s done something to me. Something is wrong with me.” She couldn’t keep from peering back the wayshe’dcome.
“Hell and damnation, you aretrembling.”
She couldn’t help herself. She started to cry, and to blubber about fishing and kissing and monsters and seeing things that weren’tthere.
“Here now,” he said soothingly. “Is that all? Don’t you worry. Everything willbefine.”
Frowning, she blinked as she looked up at him. “Say that again,” shedemanded.
His mouth twitched. “You’llbefine.”
No image bubbled into existencebetweenthem.
It meant something. Ithadto.
“Come.” He urged her toward a door. “Let’s go outside and get to the bottomofthis.”
His touch was gentle as he led her onto a stone terrace and toward a bench near the balustrade. She sat, and he perched next to her. Gradually, the shaking subsided. She felt safe, so close to his large, warm frame. Almostcherished.
