Whisper of Magic Read Online Free PDF

“My
sister-in-law has been doing some research,” he said.
    In actuality, after he’d given Aster all the names he’d
acquired, she’d fallen into near fits of ecstasy. But describing Malcolm
weirdness was beyond him. He stayed with the facts he understood. “She says
that the Rochester family and hers are distantly related, if Lord Rochester is
from the same branch. She is a genealogist and would very much like to meet the
family, if that’s possible.”
    The lady said nothing, merely hurried toward the mews as if
he were no more than a talking lamp post.
    “As I’ve told your friend here, the family of a marquess
could be very influential in dealing with those who might threaten your
household.” Erran considered that a fairly persuasive argument—until the lady
finally spoke, decisively turning his own words against him.
    “And they can be equally dangerous enemies,” she replied in
honeyed tones that did not seem to match her meaning. “How do we know you aren’t the ones causing us grief? I
would rather you left us alone.”
    For a brief moment, she turned almond-shaped, spectacularly
blue eyes to him with what appeared to be expectation. He was so startled at
the juxtaposition of light eyes, dark lashes, and bronzed complexion that he
almost forgot to reply.
    Dismissively, she turned to escape into her hidden garden.
    He recovered his tongue. “If a marquess wants to harm you,”
he retaliated, “he’d march an army to your door and haul you out. He wields
that kind of power but has refrained from using it.”
    For some reason, his argument seemed to alarm her. She
shoved anxiously at the garden gate.
    Her bodyguard halted her. “I think we should listen to him.”
    At that, she tensed and straightened her shoulders,
obviously preparing a rejection. She was tall for a woman, but Erran could tell
little else about her beneath the concealing cloak. It was hard to imagine a
lady taking suggestions from a servant, but he had no better means of reaching
her.
    “We do not know him,” she said in a tone reflecting hesitation and . . . fear?
Why would she fear him?
    “How does one come to know anyone without talking to them?”
Erran asked. “I can bring my sister-in-law here. I can bring you references
from dukes and judges. What do you require?”
    “A message from God,” the giant said with wryness.
    “He does not respond to my vocalization,” the lady
whispered. “I cannot trust anyone that unpredictable.”
    Erran raised his eyebrows. “I respond to spoken words just
as everyone else. That illogic sounds like my sister-in-law and her relations.
Do I have the honor of meeting Miss Celeste Malcolm Rochester?” He repeated the name Aster had given him, almost hoping he was
wrong. Malcolms were impossibly irrational.
    She peered at him from beneath her hood. “You say that as if
it’s a bad thing.”
    He winced. “Sorry. The Malcolm ladies sometimes have
windmills in their heads, and I do not fully comprehend their rationale. It
would be better if I could speak with your father, but I’m a desperate man.
I’ll bring Lady Aster to translate woman-speak for me, if necessary.”
    “Woman-speak,” she said in an expressive tone that probably
reflected eye-rolling, if only he could see her eyes again, but she’d retreated
beneath her hood. “Yes, it would probably be better if I spoke with this Lady
Aster, except you are here and she is not. I cannot imagine how we can help
you.”
    “You are Miss
Rochester?” Erran asked, trying not to show his disbelief that Aster had been
right. “Then by all means, we must speak. I think we can help each other.”
    ***
    Celeste doubted that anyone could help her, but this
haughty aristocrat had saved her—and their valuable shirts—from a particularly
nasty misadventure. That cautious Jamar was willing to listen said much about
their desperation.
    She was terrified of letting anyone new into their
precarious lives, and someone resistant to