Darkest Dreams by Jennifer St Giles Page B

Stuart had the appearance of a man who could withstand anything life chose to burden his broad shoulders with.
    â€œI don’t mean to intrude, but if you could have someone ready a small conveyance and a footman to drive me, I would be grateful.”
    â€œYou’re not interrupting at all, Miss Andrews. Bridget and I are through .” He ended his sentence there, not adding anything, like through carried a wealth of meaning, and Bridget gasped in response.
    I bit my lip at the sudden sheen of tears I saw in her shadowed blue eyes. Stuart’s jaw clenched much as a doctor’s would when administering a painful but necessary treatment. I noted he fisted his hands tightly, as if he was trying to keep himself from reaching out, and his dark eyes were full of mixed emotions.
    After a moment or two of silence, Bridget left without saying a word.
    Stuart cleared his throat, making me think that he had trouble finding his voice. “It’ll take just a moment. Where will you be going? Just the short distance to Dartmoor’s End or further?”
    I swallowed my lump of apprehension, realizing this was my first step to a life alone, one that would likely defy many notions of propriety. “Just a short distance, but I won’t be going to Dartmoor’s End. I’m going to Dragon’s Cove.”
    Stuart froze in midstep, then turned to me. “You’re going to Viscount Blackmoor’s?”
    â€œYes.”
    He glanced at the castle, clearly wondering who else would be going with me.
    â€œI am traveling alone,” I said. “And I would appreciate as little attention as possible be given to this.”
    â€œIn other words, the fewer who know the better?”
    â€œExactly.” Even though I saw concern rather than judgment darken his gaze, my insides still twisted as tightly as my lace-gloved fingers.
    â€œVery well, Miss Andrews. I hope you know what you are doing.”
    â€œI do.”
    He shook his head. “I wonder. Tread carefully, Miss Andrews. The viscount isn’t a man to be trusted in some ways.”
    I met his gaze and resisted the temptation to ask exactly what he meant. After a moment he nodded and went to secure my transportation. By responding to Stuart’s warning, I would have opened the door for more conversation, which I wanted to avoid. Whatever he was cautioning me against, I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want anything to deter me from the course I had set upon.
    Twenty minutes later, I questioned my wisdom. Perhaps I should have come armed with everything I could find out about Viscount Blackmoor and his past. The dark castle spires on Dragon’s Cove came into view, and I shivered at how their sharp points stabbed at the heavens, at how black the stone of the walls was against the bright beauty of the distant sea. Unlike Sean’s castle, which nestled cozily along the open coast, Alexander’s domain rose amid cliffs of jagged rock where the sea could be heard crashing violently against the earth rather than lapping the shore.
    More fortress-like than any structure I’d seen before, with fanged dragons carved menacingly upon its battlements, the castle loomed over the cove like a preying beast, ready to devour all who dared to enter its lair. As the buggy drove up the long stretch of road, I could readily see why the rumors about the Killdaren brothers were so rampant. The castle was not a vision of wealth from a family blessed, but an outward warning of a family cursed beyond redemption.
    More than a few doubts about the success of my venture burned in my mind, as if the dragons encircling the rooftop had set fire to them. I couldn’t fail, I told myself, refusing to give in to the worry. Instead, I focused on the heat I’d seen sparking in Alexander’s gaze yesterday. On some level I interested him, and I needed to use that to my advantage.
    The road between Killdaren’s Castle and Dragon’s Cove