MacKenzie's Magic by Debra Dier

Author:Debra Dier [Dier, Debra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dierington Press

Chapter Sixteen

Jane sat at the vanity in her sleeping compartment and drew a brush through her unbound hair. Beyond the glass of her window, moonlight skipped over a meadow they were passing. She had often found the gentle rocking of a train relaxing. Yet tonight her insides were clenched so tightly, not even the rhythmic movement could ease her tension. She wished she had brought Arthur on the trip. But he was safer at Lancaster House.

She rested her brush on the white lace covering the top of the vanity and stared out the window. The moon glowed near the top of the window. Why did Lancaster have such a fascination with the Sidhe? Did he have his suspicions about her? What depths had the scoundrel...

The door to her compartment flew open and slammed against the wall. Lancaster stormed over the threshold like a summer gale. He marched toward her, his eyes narrowed, murder glinting in the blue slits.

Jane scrambled from her chair. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It will not work.” He stalked her.

Her heart pounded with an uneasy mix of excitement and fear. She drew back until she bumped into the wall. He closed the distance. She pressed her hands against his chest, determined to keep him at bay. “What do you mean by barging into my compartment this way?”

He was breathing as though he had been running for several minutes alongside the train. He lifted the album of photographs in front of him as though it answered all of her questions. “Your wicked plot.”

“My wicked plot?”

“’Twon’t succeed.”

She stared at him, stunned by the honest anger burning in his eyes. “Exactly what plot do you mean? I have so many wicked plots afoot.”

He rested his left hand on the wall beside her shoulder and leaned toward her. “The photograph. I know ’twas you who placed it there.”

“The photograph?” She searched through the muddle he had made of her brain. He was far too close, and she had far too few barriers to protect her. His legs pressed against the ruffles at the hem of her nightgown. She could scarcely fit together a logical thought. “It might help if you were a little more specific.”

He released his breath in a quick exhalation. “You placed a photograph in that book you gave me to look through. You wish to twist my mind. But you won’t succeed.”

“You recognized one of the people in the album?” Her breath stilled in her chest. His memory was returning. With the realization that Lancaster would soon regain his memory came an unexpected stab of emotion, something far too close to regret. “Show me.”

“You know which photograph.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She snatched the album from his hand and pushed it against his chest. “Show me the photograph.”

He held her gaze a moment, his eyes wary. Finally, he took the album from her hands. He flipped through the thick pages until he found what he was looking for. “Here. This woman.”

Jane stared at the photograph. “Who do you think the woman in the photograph is?”

“You know very well who she is.

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